#also the bottom left is little me& & my& grandma & the bottom right is my& grandpa again... g-d... i& vividly remember nanny's living room

[ladyimaginarium]

just going through old pictures &. i& found little me& ( in the middle ). i& almost never see that. i& dont even recognize who that is or remember who that little girl was. to clarify, this was before my& major trauma happened & started to develop a year later tho i& can imagine that since my& father was struggling with substance abuse in the home even when i& was so young i& just. simply don't remember much of it. & so i& just think. like. how could my& abusers do that to a little girl? a child? all she ever wanted was to be loved and accepted and held. to be loved by her grandfather.

[twogoliathbeetles]

wearing a jumper i still have to finish darning and with each movement all the little moth holes are screaming out in pain

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 10) - Take Care

Summary: The reader gets to meet Danneel’s parents in a somewhat unorthodox way but receives a warm welcome to her surprise. Meanwhile, a minor medical scare makes Jensen anxious that he takes too much and doesn’t give enough to the reader...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Playing With Their Hair

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, minor frightening situation, minor medical situation, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy! Also written for @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo...

________

One Week Later

“Y/N, can we get orange?” asked Arrow from where she sat in the shopping cart. She pointed at the tubes of frosting and you took one off, handing it to her as you went back to searching for a box of red velvet mix. 

“Come on,” you sighed, squatting down. You saw one shoved in the back and you bent down, reaching back to get it. You huffed when you pulled it back, the expiration date still plenty good. “Score. Okay Arrow what other color…”

She wasn’t in the cart anymore as you stood, her bright pink shirt and shorts nowhere in sight. 

“Arrow!” you shouted, people from the farther end of the aisle turning to look at you. You breathed hard and spun around, exiting the aisle and looking at the checkouts. “Arrow!”

“Mam,” said a man in a white dress shirt and slacks, walking over with a headset on.

“I had a little girl with me and she’s missing and she was in the cart and I would have heard her climb out,” you said, walking quickly, the man following with you as you checked down aisles. “Arrow!”

You heard the guy talk into his headset when you caught pink and a guy near the front of the store. She spun around and you ran over, the manager not too far behind you. You didn’t say a word when you kicked the back of the guys knee and grabbed Arrow, picking her up.

“What’d I do?” he said, Arrow turning away. He looked more angry than you were expecting and you swallowed, the manager urging you back. “She’s the one that took my granddaughter!”

“She’s not your fucking granddaughter, pervert. I’m her nanny and soon to be step-mom so you can back the fuck off.”

“Step fucking what?” he said, his face going blank. 

“Grandpa I told you Y/N’s my friend,” said Arrow. You blinked and stared at the man.

“Prove it,” you said. The man angrily pulled out his wallet and ripped out a picture, turning it around. It was a large group photo but you could clearly see Jensen and the kids in it along with… “You’re her father. Danneel.”

“Who the fuck are you,” he said. You took out your phone and went to your pictures, showing him one of your backyard bonfire from the weekend before. 

“Is there a problem?” asked the manager. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes and left.

“Sir, I’m so sorry,” you said. He nodded and glanced down. 

“Well, I can’t blame you. I understand the feeling,” he said. 

“Can we...talk?” you asked.

“I think that’d be best before somebody else gets their ass kicked.”

Fifteen minutes later you had your bag of baking supplies in your trunk, Arrow was playing on the jungle gym and you were sat at a picnic table with Danneel’s parents.

“You guys came down early for JJ’s birthday, huh,” you said.

“We had to come down this weekend instead. Something came up last minute next week,” said her mom. You nodded and took a deep breath. 

“I am so sorry. That is absolutely not how Jensen and I wanted to tell you both.”

“I’m old but I’m tough. I’ll survive,” said her father. You looked over to where Arrow was playing, gnawing on your bottom lip. “You said you were the nanny and soon to be step mom. Mind unraveling that for us?”

“I uh, I started working for Jensen in January as a nanny to help with the kids. The relationship part came a few weeks later. We’ve been engaged very briefly. Don’t even have a ring or anything yet,” you said, shaking your head. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s taken him so long to stop feeling guilty for having feelings for me. Please don’t be upset with him. I don’t...I’m not trying to replace anyone or anything. I didn’t want to like him. But I did and I love him and he deserves to be happy again.”

They looked at one another and back at you.

“Good,” they both said. 

“Excuse me?”

“We think he deserves to be happy too. He was in such a bad place after the accident,” she said. “He’s sounded like himself again recently.”

“Plus if you’re willing to kick my ass for thinking I took Arrow, that gets you some brownie points,” he said with a smile. You nodded and looked down at the table, swallowing. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Your daughter’s husband is engaged to a younger woman. I wouldn’t blame you at all for whatever you might think,” you said.

“He’s got a lot of time left,” he said. “He doesn’t have to be miserable for it. We don’t want that for him. It’s not what she’d want. He’s doing exactly what she’d want from him and that’s all we can ask of him. Well and maybe stick around the country for a bit so we can see the kids some more.”

“Yeah, no plans to be anywhere but home right now,” you said. You looked over at Arrow and watched her jump off a high platform. She fell down to her knees but got up and brushed them off before she was running again.

“She’d like you,” you heard, your attention going back to the two of them. She was staring at you and you smiled.

“You don’t know a thing about me mam.”

“I think we know the important parts,” she said. You nodded and glanced down. “What do Jensen’s parents think of all this?”

“They know he’s dating but that’s it. I’m supposed to meet them next week,” you said.

“We’ll keep our lips sealed for the time being then,” she said. “What about your folks? What do they think of Jensen and the kids?”

“The kids probably haven’t met either parent yet, right?” he said. 

“It’s kinda complicated...I was adopted. My mom died a long time ago. I don’t have a dad or family really,” you said. You pursed your lips and picked at the corner of the table with your fingernail, the air heavy. 

“Well we approve of him,” he said. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s very special,” you said. “I just wish something so horrible didn’t have to happen to him and your daughter in order to meet him.”

“We can’t change that fact,” she said. “She’d want you to take care of him, keep an eye on him. Oh and remind him to take a break and slow down every once in a while. He always gets so caught up in work and being on the go. She had to calm him down sometimes.”

“I have noticed that trend,” you said. “I hope you don’t feel like he’s going to forget-”

“No we don’t worry about that. If we learned anything from this it’s just that you have to live while you have the chance,” he said as Arrow ran over.

“Y/N, I’m hungry,” she said. 

“Alright, munchkin. Why don’t we head home and maybe your grandma and grandpa will have lunch with us?” you asked.

“We’d love to,” they said. “We’ll meet you two there.”

“That went shockingly well,” said Jensen late that night when you were having an extra slice of JJ’s early birthday cake. “Those guys loved you.”

“I think we both got a little too worried over the parents situation. Dee’s parents were great, especially considering I nearly broke his knee. I’m really excited to meet yours next weekend.”

“It’s not too long of a drive up there. I haven’t been home in a long time. I’m looking forward to it too,” he said, a big smile on his face. “I’m really glad they liked you.”

“What’s not to love?” you said, Jensen smirking around his piece of cake. “You’re so hard on yourself. I’m really happy they like me too but even if they didn’t, there’s no problem there. You’re allowed to live your life. Dee wants you to keep living it.”

“I still wonder if she was just like ‘this boy is driving me nuts again, he needs a girl,’ and somehow shoved you into my life,” he said.

“Maybe. I mean, it was good timing that I was looking for a new job the same time you were looking for a nanny.”

“Did you ever report that last guy as an inappropriate employer?” he asked.

“I tell the agency but nothing criminal no. I mostly feel sorry for the families. Nannies are stability in the kids lives and leaving them isn’t easy. Unless they’re little shitheads but even then I don’t blame them, it’s the parents that turned them into it,” you said. 

“What’d you think of those three, when you met ‘em I mean,” he said.

“They’re all a little shy like you but they open up if they like you. They’re pretty damn funny. They got wit and sarcasm, even if they don’t know it yet. They’re kind and intelligent and they look to you in how to act like most kids. I knew they were good kids from the start.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” he said. You smiled and watched him eat a piece of cake, Jensen tilting his head. “You know they have called you mom before. All three of them. Accidentally but still.”

“Being a nanny has some of the roles of a parent but there’s still a difference,” you said.

“Yeah but you’ve never just been the nanny,” he said, scraping up some frosting with his fork. “Speaking of your sudden thrust into motherhood, the whole kids thing...how many of your own were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know. I don’t need to make a baby to love it. I was adopted and my mom loved me so much. I mean there’s already three of ‘em to chase after.”

“I’d like to have a baby with you. Someday,” he said. You dabbed your finger across some frosting on the plate and sucked on it, staring at him. “I know you do. Y/N there’s no more secrets. There’s never gonna be a secret between us ever again. Sometimes you get nervous but we have to talk about these things and everything. The big choices and the little ones we make together.”

“Honestly? I don’t want you to think I’ll love them less than a kid I make. I won’t. I will treat them all the same but I don’t know how to prove that to you.”

“You told me the day I hired you that I needed to hire someone I could trust, that trust was going to be so important. Y/N, I’ve never doubted your feelings for them. Shit, I’m pretty damn sure you were in love with them before me. And I get it because they aren’t scary. They can’t hurt you like the adults can. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had a shred of doubt.”

“I gotta think about kids more I guess. How many, when. I don’t know that right now.”

“We’ll figure out all that when we’re ready. Just let me know and we’ll come back to this conversation,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You know...hearing about what you did at the store...that’s kinda super attractive you know.”

“Uh what?” you said, Jensen pulling you into his lap.

“You, going protective badass...that’s very, very hot you see,” he said. 

“You’re such a guy,” you said while he picked up the last piece of cake on his fork. 

“Well we-” he said as you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the dessert, pulling back with a smile. “Oh you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” you smirked. He narrowed his eyes and set his fork down before he was standing and flipped you over his shoulder. “Jensen! Put me down!”

“Do the crime, do the time!” he said, walking over to the stairs. “Hm...what to do with you...ah I know…”

“You know…” you said before he flipped you down onto the couch and plopped down on top of you, catching most of his weight on his hands on either side of you. “Troublemaker.”

“You love it,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, your hands wandering to his hair, holding him close. You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist, Jensen kissing you sloppy and cheeky and like a teenage boy making out for the first time. 

“Dad,” said JJ, rushing down the stairs. He dropped this forehead to yours and sighed.

“What is it?” he asked. He sat up and you both looked at her, spotting the pale tint of her skin. “Feel okay?”

“Jensen call an ambulance, now,” you said, pushing him off and going over to her. He sat up and you kneeled down next to her, her lips slightly blue. You put a hand on her chest and felt the labored breathing. “Did you eat something new tonight? Or did a bug bite you?”

“I stepped on a prickly in the bathroom a minute ago,” she said.

“Jesus,” said Jensen as he rushed into the kitchen. “She got stung by a scorpion.”

He grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and started unscrewing it.

“Jensen go see what the scorpion is and get rid of it before the twins find it,” you said. He left the bottle with you and shoved the phone against your ear. “Hi, sorry how much of the anti-venom do I give her?”

“There should be a child dosage on the bottle, half the cap,” the person on the other end said. You unscrewed the lid and poured some out, having her swallow it down. She whined and you didn’t blame her based on the smell. “An ambulance will be there shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said, spotting Jensen at the top of the stairs. He was holding his wrist and had a slightly smushed object in one of the clear plastic cups from the kids bathroom. “We have the scorpion.”

“EMT’s should be able to identify it,” she said, Jensen walking down slowly. He took a seat on the bottom step and shook his head. 

“Jensen?” you said, his hand reaching for the bottle. You moved his hand from his wrist and saw two dots there. “Shit. My fiance was stung too.”

“There’s a nest in the bathroom vanity,” he said, pouring himself a dose and knocking it back. “I blocked off the door but get the twins out of there, please.”

“JJ,” you said as you saw her color get better while Jensen was getting paler. You took your phone out of your pocket and dialed, handing it to her. “Tell Uncle Jared to come over right now.”

Five minutes later Jared was there, JJ and Jensen sat in the back of an ambulance, Jensen getting a shot of something in the leg.

“We’re taking them to West County,” said a paramedic.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, JJ staring worriedly at Jensen who has holding his wrist again. Jared looked around as they took off and you sighed. “Hey.”

“JJ said she and Jay got stung by a scorpion?” he asked.

“She got one as far as they can tell. Jensen got three. There’s a nest in the bathroom cupboard,” you said.

“Idiot,” mumbled Jared. You raised and eyebrow and he shook his head. “He forgot to get the pest spray done this year I bet. Dee always handled that kind of stuff. They’ve had a scorpion problem before when they first moved in.”

“Oh.”

“I’m gonna take the twins and stay the night. I’ll call and get the spray guys in first thing in the morning. You go take care of those two,” he said. You nodded and he grabbed your arm when you headed for your car. “Wait five minutes to calm down.”

“Jared I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You just don’t know it. Go inside, get your purse, Jensen’s wallet, take a beat, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. “Make sure-”

“I got it. Go on,” he said. “Make sure he’s not freaking out. Last time he was at a hospital it wasn’t good.”

“Right. Okay. Call me if you need something. And stay away from the kids bathroom.”

“Y/N. I know. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

One Hour Later

“Is dad okay?” asked JJ from where she sat in your lap. Jensen peeled an eye open and smiled. 

“I’m okay. Sleepy is all. We’ll be home in a few hours,” he said. His wrist was bandaged and he had an IV in his arm but he’d taken the anti-venom soon enough that they had enough time to get the proper medication in both him and JJ. She was already discharged but you didn’t want to leave Jensen by himself.

“Mr. Ackles,” said a doctor when she walked in the room. “Your bloodwork came back and everything looks good.”

“Awesome,” he said, sitting up in bed. “Can I get out of here?”

“You got about fifteen minutes left on that IV drip but I’ll let the nurse know to start the paperwork. I want you to take it easy tomorrow. Nothing strenuous.”

“I got it,” he said with a nod. “Nothing strenuous.”

“Jensen,” you said around noon the next day, catching him unloading some wood from the back of his truck. “What are you doing?”

“I was gonna work on those shelves for the kid’s playroom,” he said. You crossed your arms and he threw his head back. “I feel fine. The nest got cleared out and the house got sprayed. I wanna work on this.”

“You have all the time in the world to do it. Work on it tomorrow,” you said, picking up the wood plank. He tried to take it out of your hands and you growled. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Please do what the doctor said and rest today,” you said. He bit his lip and you moved the pieces of wood into the garage, Jensen leaning back against the side of the truck when you shut the trunk. “You’re scared, aren’t you.”

He nodded and glanced at his wrapped up wrist, then down to the ground.

“Hospitals freak me out now,” he said. “I don’t like bugs. My body hurt and knowing I forgot to do something so simple put them in danger sucks. Knowing if she hadn’t come downstairs it might have been real bad sucks. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t know if I would have and it scares me not knowing.”

“Close your eyes for me,” you said. He shut them and took a deep breath, letting you take his hand and walk around to the back of the house. You spun him around a few times stopping him so he was facing the pool about twenty feet away. “Know where you are?”

“Somewhere in the middle of the backyard,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“You said not knowing scared you. Lots of times you don’t know. It’s kinda just how life works,” you said, dropping his hand and moving a few feet away. “Take a big step forward.”

“Y/N, I don’t like this,” he said, fidgeting his hand along the bottom of his shirt. 

“I know you don’t. But would I hurt you?”

“No,” he said. 

“So listen to me. Big step forward.” He took a step and you looked around. “Jump backwards.”

“What?”

“Jump backwards.” He frowned and took a small bunny hop back. “Again.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Says the guy who plays pretend for a professional career. Now hop back and then step to the right,” you said. He groaned and did as asked. “Jog forward until I say stop.”

“Are you trying to kill me out here cause I feel like I’m about to break my neck slipping in the pool.”

“I’m trying to get your anxiety out in a non-life threatening way, okay?”

“By having me jump around the backyard like an idiot.”

“By having you get comfortable with the fact that most of life is spent not knowing and you can’t change that fact. You can’t see it all coming.”

He threw his head back but kept his eyes shut. He stared to run towards you and you wrapped your arms around him when he got there, Jensen peeling them open slowly.

“See? I wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen,” you said. He nodded and rested his forehead on your shoulder, pulling you into a squeezing hug. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry for being short and not doing what the doctor asked,” he said.

“Hey, it’s alright. I got scared too last night. Everything is fixed now so no need to worry over it. Why don’t you take a nap and maybe we have a real quiet lazy day while Dee’s parents got the kids for the day,” you said. “Sound fun?”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll take quiet today.”

Three hours later Jensen was curled up with a blanket, his head resting in your lap as you watched a movie together. You played with his hair, Jensen turning into the touch every so often. 

“I know you’re worried about me,” he said. He turned and faced up at you, your fingers swirling in his strands. “I know I’m kinda clingy today which I’m normally not.”

“You can cling all you want, honey,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I wish life would give you a break for a second. No work, no badness. Just some peace and quiet for you.”

“My parents lived here after the accident. For a few months. They were here, Jared and Gen were over every day, my siblings would stop down every week. The first few months I understood. I had an injury I had to recover from. But I felt like a child those few months once I recovered. Everyone taking care of the kids, of me. I was barely a father to them. Playtime. A story at bed. Someone else made most of their meals, did everything for them.”

“You’re a father but you’re still someone’s child,” you said. He blinked and you shrugged. “You were hurt, possibly the worst out of anyone. I know taking care of everyone else is your default but people get to take care of you too. I get to take care of you.”

“I feel like all I do is get taken care of by you,” he said. “I never give it back.”

“You’ve given me a family again. You take care of me every single day.”

“I never see you getting upset. It’s always me. I’m always the fuck up,” he said. You slumped down and took a deep breath. 

“I get upset Jensen. I got upset that very first time we fought, that night with the ice cream. I got upset when you got jealous of that nanny in Canada and we saw my father the first time. I got upset telling you the truth of it all because you of all people don’t need problems like that dumped at your feet. I got upset when we saw him again because I was scared and I was scared he might hurt you too. I got upset when we fought when you got home and I got upset when you proposed because you were so scared and I get upset Jensen. I get upset when you’re hurt. I get upset when I hurt. But I don’t have all those safety nets under me that you do, remember? I just got a couple right now and you’re my last resort. I’ve been my own support system for so long that I can’t undo that all overnight. I know it’s been months but the fact I even let you see me cry, the fact I can even talk about this stuff with you and know all you’re thinking about is how to make me feel better...I still need to heal too. You’ve done so much already. I’m gonna have my moments where this is switched, believe me. But today’s not my turn for that, it’s yours.”

“I love you,” he said, staring up with the softest green eyes you’d ever seen on him yet. “Even more than five minutes ago if that’s possible.”

“I love you,” you said, bending down and kissing him. “You’re the expert on the falling in love stuff though so I’ll leave that up to you.”

“It’s very...it’s what you think it is and it’s not at all what you think. There’s falling and nerves and then calm and then falling and calm and you spend the rest of your life doing that. It’s not magic and it takes work to keep it alive sometimes but all you gotta do is talk. Just talk and it always seems to work out for me,” he said.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. He nodded and smiled as you went back to playing with his hair.

“You know I really like when you do that,” he said.

“I know you do. It relaxes you,” you said.

“Makes me feel safe too,” he said. “But what’s your secret cause eventually I’m gonna want to know them all.”

“I was very attracted to you when we met. But that kinda freaked me out a bit. I found myself liking you a lot that first day I was here. You got me a birthday cake. I realized how kind you are that night. It wasn’t for anyone’s benefit other than my own. I had a crush on you, even though I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“I had a crush on you from when you made me a cup of coffee. You’re so good and kind yourself,” he said. He reached up and cupped your cheek. “I’m really happy you had your mom eventually. I would have liked to have met her.”

“Maybe she and Dee are hanging out wherever they are.”

“I hope so. She won’t mind sharing me with you,” he said.

“You honestly think so?” 

“You gonna mind sharing me with her?” he asked.

“I’ve always shared you. Just hope that wouldn’t bother her.”

“I used to think maybe it would but no, she wants me to be happy and that’s you so you got all eternity to get to know each other eventually if you think about it.”

“Well when you put it that way we got nothing to worry about,” you said.

“Oh don’t worry about that. I think your mom was right. I get to have two people is all, kinda like she did,” he said. 

“She would have liked you. Would have said you’re a little old for me but she would have liked you.”

“Wasn’t she older than Ray?” he asked.

“Yeah. She was. She was only fifty,” you said.

“You grew up too fast,” he said quietly.

“Maybe. But it got me here and I don’t think I would have done anything different. I wouldn’t want to screw that up. Well I’d do one thing different.”

“What?”

“Drop by this house, have a conversation with a certain someone.”

“Say hypothetically you had that ability, you’d really do that knowing what you’re giving up?”

“I’d give her back to you right this second if I could.”

“I appreciate that, really,” he said. He let his hand fall down and reach around your back, curling around your waist. “But she’s not more important than you are. I miss her. Everyday. But I lose one of you either way in that scenario. And I can’t choose. I’ll never be able to. If she were here and you weren’t, I’d still be just like this. It’d still hurt.”

“Make me a promise. I keel over early, you try again. Try for both of us.”

“I will if you will,” he said. He held up his pinky finger and you grabbed it with yours. “But he can’t be hotter than me.”

“Equally as hot?”

“Slightly less hot but that’s my final offer,” he said. 

“Eh, fine,” you said. “You’ve worn me down.”

“Always words I want to hear,” he chuckled. You slid further down the couch until you were practically laying back, your arms wrapping around him. He got up and lay down with you on the wrap around side of the couch, pulling you into his chest. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? Just us.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, honey,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just thanks. For what you said. What you did earlier, just being with me,” he said.

“Lucky for you I like being with you a whole lot,” you said.

“Very lucky for me,” he said. “Very lucky indeed.”

______

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Ackersmith Cafe 

Pieck x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k Cw: minor cursing Disclaimer! This is my first story/fic/head canon type thing ever, so feedback is much appreciated! ( :

enjoy!

* Lots of wholesome fluff ( : <3 *

Ships involved: Pieck x Reader, Hitchani, Eruri, Yumihisu,  Implied EreMika, Implied Niccolo x Sasha

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⁃ Ackersmith cafe, a quaint, dark academia type coffee shop

⁃ Leading local competitor “mom and pop shop” of the Shiganshina county against Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts and Bakers Dozen

⁃ Used to be called “Smith Cafe” owned Grandma and Grandpa Smith before Mr. Erwin took over and married Mr.Levi

⁃ You and your parents have been going here since you could remember! Even before Mr.Erwin won his battle against cancer but lost his arm

⁃ Even though you’re in college now, it’s still walking distance from Paradis University and the neighbor university—Liberio University

⁃ You introduced your college friends, Sasha, Mikasa, and Annie to this place

⁃ You go here almost everyday to study and do uni homework

⁃ “Mr. Erwin!” You announced every time you walk in with Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa as the bells of the cafe ring

⁃ “(Y/nnnnnnn!)” he says waving his bionic arm that Hange, the other barista, made for him

⁃ (Hange chooses to work here every other weekend as a way to “relax” from their researching job, crazy right?)

⁃ “Hey twerp, when did you get so tall?”Mr. Levi flashes a smile from behind the counter, remembering you getting hoisted up on your dads shoulder while ordering a hot chocolate from when he was a trainee here a few years ago

⁃ “Mr. Levi, it’s been years since I was your height” you chuckle glancing at Mikasa, Sasha, and Annie stifling back a laugh at they witness this interaction

⁃ “Tch. You brats, I’ll kick you out any second!” he jokingly gets defensive

⁃ “Levi” Mr. Erwin puts a hand on the small of Mr. Levi’s back “Be nice to my favourite and most important customers! You’ll drive out our daily revenue” he laughs

⁃ “Yeah yeah whatever. The usual, brats?” Mr. Levi rolls his eyes holding back a soft smile

⁃ “Yep!” You all say in unison

⁃ “Should’ve guessed” as his rings up your guys’ total “I’ll bring it right out for you guys” he says before disappearing into the brewing station

⁃ You, Sasha, Mikasa, and Annie go to your usual booth right by the front window of the cafe

⁃ You 4 begin to pull out your computers and begin to do homework

⁃ Sasha and Mikasa are typing away on a shared Google Slide for a project they were both assigned to for their ENGL 2273 class they both happened to have together while you and Annie are looking out the window dozing off

⁃ “(Y/N),” Mikasa says grabbing your attention “Do your work.”

⁃ “Alright alright” you begin opening up a blackboard assignment your Professor assigned to you

⁃ “Slacking off again (L/N)?” Mr. Levi’s voice startles you as you look up

⁃ “No!” You shyly smile at him as you pretend to type away at the assignment

⁃ “Tch. Anyways, a white chocolate mocha latte with a glazed donut for you Annie, a hot, unsweetened, caramel latte for you Mikasa, a bacon, egg, and cheese croissant with a cinnamon dolce frappe for you Sasha, and a matcha frappe for you (Y/N). Anything else brats?” He smiles as he hands everything to you guys

⁃ “No thank you!” You say in unison once again before he nods and walks away

⁃ As you sip on your delectable drink, Annie’s face lights up and it’s not from the donut (this time)

⁃ “Eh? Annie, what’s got you smiling?” Sasha says nervously chewing on her croissant at Annie’s surprised face

⁃ “Oh.” Annie’s face goes back to the typical stoic look “nothing, it’s just I know those people about to walk in” she gestures to a tall, muscular blonde man, a tall, brunette who is visibly sweating, a dirty blonde man with an undercut, and breathtaking black haired women with languid eyes and a perpetual soft smile

⁃ “Huh? How?” Mikasa looks up from her work and towards the girl sitting to her left shoulder, peeking a glance at the group about to walk in

⁃ “Eh, I went to Marley high school with them. I had a few classes with each of them throughout the years but never really interacted too much. They aren’t mean or anything— I just recognize them. I think they go to Liberio university” she says taking another bite of her donut

⁃ “Her names Pieck Finger” Annie said with a mouth full of donut directly at you “I’m guessing you were wondering” she smirks

⁃ Your face heats up. Did Annie notice you were staring at her?! Oh no… if Annie noticed… did this mean that Pieck girl also notice?!”

⁃ “No no” you laughed it off, “I wasn’t wondering I was just staring off into space!!”

⁃ This earns a chuckle out of Mikasa, she read you like a book

⁃ The Liberio squad orders as your little Paradis squad begins to pack up after being there for about hour and a half

⁃ “Annie?” The muscular blonde says from a few tables over

⁃ Annie lights up a bit at the seemingly familiar voice coming from behind her

⁃ “Reiner?” Annie walks over to the table as you, Mikasa, and Sasha continue to pack up

⁃ “Oh! These are my friends (Y/N), Mikasa, and Sasha. We usually come here almost everyday” annie says as each of you light up at the sound of your name

⁃ “Nice to meet you all! This is Bertolt, Porco, Pieck, and I’m Reiner”

You 4 wave to the Liberio 4 and you make direct eye contact with Pieck, she smiles softly at you

⁃ “It was nice seeing you all again, we were just on our way out” Annie waves to the group

⁃ “It was nice meeting you!” You, Mikasa, and Sasha say in unison

⁃ You made eye contact with Pieck once again before exiting

The next day

⁃ you text the group chat during your last class of the day “Ackersmiths?

⁃ Annie replies “Hitch nagged at me this morning claiming she deserves more attention so I'm taking her on a date tonight. ”

⁃ Mikasa replies “I’m being forced to meet Niccolo today😐”

⁃ “Okay so you all hate me😩I’ll go alone” you respond to the group chat

⁃ “Yeah that’s exactly what we mean (Y/N)😪😪😪” Sasha replies

⁃ “Yeah whatever.😫 I’ll be over later tonight and bring you guys your usuals if you want” you reply

⁃ “You’re a saint!🛐” Sasha says

⁃ “Sasha’s dorm as usual? I’ll be there around 8 o’clock” Annie says

⁃ “Perfect, I’ll see you guys then, i know you guys love me🥰🥰🥰🥰” you sent the text and began walking to Ackersmith’s

⁃ you walk in and greet Mr.Levi and Mr.Erwin like always “Mr. Leviiiiii! Mr. Erwin!!! It’s your favourite customer!”

⁃ “Oh? I didn’t see Sasha walk in though?” Erwin banters back as you walk towards the counter

⁃ “Yeah yeah, be glad or else you wouldn’t have any pastries left to sell today” you laugh “could I get the usual please?”

⁃ “Of course! I’ll have Levi bring it out to you in a second” Erwin beams and heads towards the machines

⁃ You begin to head to the table usually sit at when you aren’t accompanied by your usual gang but it seems to be taken

⁃ “Grandpa Arlert!?” You exclaim

⁃ Distracted by your excitement, that ethereal black haired Pieck, walks in and sits at a table closest to the entrance by the window. She instantly notices you chatting with (in her eyes) a random sweet old man

⁃ “(Y/N)!” He begins to get up

⁃ “How’s Armin doing? I haven’t heard much from him while he’s been in France but Mikasa tells me so much, maybe too much,  about Eren’s studies abroad”

⁃ “He’s doing well, I miss seeing you 4 all the time. I’m about to be on my way but come see me anytime kiddo” he pats you on the head

⁃ “I’ll come by this weekend okay Grandpa Arlert?” He nods as you sit down and pull out your computer

⁃ Pieck is gazing out the window but every now and then she glances at you. She can’t help but find you adorable when you focus on something— you furrow your brows a bit, squint, and bite your bottom lip

⁃ As Pieck is totally engrossed in your cute little studying quirks, she quickly averts her eyes and your head snaps in her direction as the entrance bells chimes and a couple walks in

⁃ You focus on the couple as the blonde one in a flowy pink dress pushes the stroller to nearby table and the taller brunette one in slacks and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow goes to order (for the blonde one as well, you assume)

⁃ The gears in your head are shifting as you begin to figure out who the hell that couple could be as they are SO familiar to you

⁃ Then. A lightbulb! “Historia?!” You say to the women about three empty small tables away

⁃ (It’s a local favourite, how could you not see people you know here?)

⁃ (Y/N)?! You get up and start walking over to Historia’s table accompanied by a stroller

⁃ (Y/N)? The tall brunette walks over with a strawberry pastry and a plain croissant

⁃ “Ahh, Ymir!” You exclaim embracing her

⁃ “And who might this little one be?” You question while lovingly waving to inside the stroller which held a baby with dark hair, freckles, and bright blue eyes

⁃ Somehow(?) a perfect mix of Ymir and Historia

⁃ “This is baby Freida” (after her late sister) Historia grabs the about 7-month baby girl and gives her a kiss on her chubby cheek

⁃ “Sooo this is what you’ve guys have been doing since we left high school. I always wondered where you guys took off! You both completely went AWOL “ you chuckle while holding your index finger out as baby Freida grasps it

⁃ “Yeah, after high school I decided to take a gap year and Historia decided to become a CNA, I’m working on my realtor license” Ymir says taking a chomp out of the croissant

⁃ “I’m so happy for you guys! Seeing you guys and plus this cute little one just made my day. Could I hold her?” Your eyes looks as if they’ve been possessed by literal stars

⁃ “Of course!” Historia gingerly hands you baby Frieda and to your surprise, little Frieda giggles while you rub your cheek to the baby’s chubby one smiling

⁃ While this interaction is happening, Pieck has her eyes GLUED to you

⁃ Her heart is bursting at the seams right now. From seeing you interact with the sweet old man you refer to as Grandpa Arlert to you holding a cute ass child AH! Her heart IS exploding

⁃ It’s like she’s emitting a pink aura out of her body and little hearts are circling her as well

⁃ You hand baby Frieda back “it was nice chatting with you guys, text me if you guys are ever back in town!” And with that you retreat back to your original spot

⁃ Hyper focused on what you’re supposed to be doing on your screen you’re interrupted by Levi’s booming voice

⁃ “Hey brat, sorry it took so long. The blender got jammed, probably from all the stupid ice it took to make your dumb frappe”

⁃ “Also, you’re probably too oblivious to notice but, don’t look now, there’s a dark haired girl by the window who has been making googly eyes at you the moment she walked in”

⁃ (WINGMAN LEVI?!?!?!)

⁃ You nonchalantly glide your eyes over to where he was talking about and he referring to Pieck

⁃ THE PIECK FINGER from yesterday

⁃ Your face turns red as you grab the drink from Mr.Levi and begin to stutter

⁃ “I— uh-“

⁃ “Don’t think I didn’t notice your little interaction yesterday” he scoffs hiding a smirk

⁃ …is he referring to me staring at Pieck from the window????

⁃ (That sounds creepy but in an innocent young teen/adult puppy love way)

⁃ “If you’d like, I can send a drink over from you. She ordered the weirdest frappe-combo-shit yesterday so I remember it. It was a matcha frappe with strawberry purée and strawberry drizzle with matcha dusted on top of the whip cream…” he scoffed “but what do I know? I’m just an old married man”

⁃ WINGMAN MR. LEVI!!!!!!

⁃ “Yes! That would be perfect, I trust your gut Mr.Levi!” You hand him your card and he smiles as he begins to walk away

⁃ At this point you’re nervous. Yes you’re looking at your computer but you CANNOT think about anything else but how Pieck will react

⁃ Does she have a boyfriend? That (stupid) undercut guy?

- The tall sweaty guy?

⁃ Or maybe the muscular guy

⁃ No no, she looks too smart to date a meathead

- She seems too outgoing to date a super nervous guy

⁃ Or a seemingly fuckboy

⁃ But who am I to judge her preference?

-Is she even gay?

- She probably has a girlfri--

⁃ “Thank you for the drink” a sweet voice danced in between your clouded thoughts

⁃ You look up and you meet eyes with the one and only, Pieck

⁃ “May I sit here?” She gestures at the empty seat in front of you

⁃ (Mr. Levi’s plan worked?)

⁃ “Of course!” You shyly smile rubbing the back on your nape

⁃ “Your names (Y/N), right?” She took a sip of the drink

⁃ “Hmm.. Doing a bit of stalking I see. How’d you know my exotic drink of choice?” Those heavy words came out so smoothly you could barely react to the accusation

⁃ “Oh! Uh— no it’s not that” you instantly became flustered

⁃ The laugh she let out was so beautiful that it made you stop in your tracks

⁃ A bit of the puree was on her lips, which made them glossy and her head tilted back which let her flowy silky black hair waterfall off her shoulder

⁃ A bit of confidence shot through you

⁃ “Actually, a little birdy told ME that you were the one “stalking” and they decided I should do something to get your attention” you raised an eyebrow

⁃ Pieck’s angelic laughter came to an instant halt and her face become the same colour of the little bit of strawberry purée on her bottom lip

⁃ Now YOU were the one giggling at her reaction

⁃ “Don’t worry don’t worry! You waved your hands in a surrendering motion “in all honestly Mr. Levi said he saw you looking at me today and remembered your ..interesting.. drink from yesterday and also remembered about how I was looking at you when you walked in with your friends and suggested I send a drink over to you” you reassured

⁃ Oh shit

⁃ She giggled at how red your face got after realized what you had just told her

⁃ “Well if you’re going to be honest I will too, I thought you were the cutest thing yesterday. Today really solidified that thought because I mayyyy… have noticed you with that cute little baby” she gave you a languid smile fiddling with her hair nervously

⁃ Taken a bit aback from this

⁃ Are you hearing this correctly???

⁃ “Could I possibly get your number? Maybe later this week we could go on a proper date or something?”

⁃ “I’d love nothing more than that, (Y/N) she gives to the sweetest most genuine smiles there can be

After you exchanged phone numbers, you and Pieck spent about 2 more hours there talking about everything and yet nothing at the same time. You both shared pointless stories about each other’s upbringing, majors, fun stories about your mutual friend Annie, your own friends, and little sarcastic shots at one another here and there before walking her back to her dorm at Liberio University (about a 30 minute walk back to Paradis University)

She thanked you for the fun night by giving you a small peck on the cheek.

When you both returned to your assigned dorms

Pieck spent the night fangirling about you to Porco, Reiner, and a 4th year named Zeke

While you spent your night fangirling to Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa

“Oh (Y/N)!? Speaking about great things you find at the cafe, where’s the drinks? ” Sasha asked after your little spiel about Pieck

“Shit!”

Ackersmith Cafe has always held a special place in your heart but the love you’ve had for the place just got deeper.

sorry if the ending sucks but lmk your thoughts!!!!!! (:

- Kyah

[ashbrea381writings]

Fractals and Feathers:Pt1

For as long as Damian could remember, his grandfather had grumbled about his wings. The outer color was fitting for the League, a deep pine green with brown eye-markings near the base. The underside, however… Were a soft, baby pink that faded into a grey-white. His soulmate was obviously some civilian girl who had no problems in her life. “It is unbecoming. If you were to ever meet this person, you must end them on sight, salvage some form of dignity.” Ra’s lectured, sneering down at Damian. “If you fail to do this, you will lose the right to have wings at all.” With that threat, Ra’s swept out of the training room, leaving Damian to consider what he must do.

The next five years were spent with Damian training hard, the threat of having his wings removed hanging over his head. He kept an eye out for his soulmate anytime he was out on a mission either with his mother or when he was alone. He was determined to not get his wings ripped from him, no matter what fate wanted for him. This went on until the fateful day his mother took him away from all he knew, and left him with his father. His father’s wings were jet black with small points of pure white like stars on the underside and slate grey with blue and purple markings on the outside. Damian didn’t care about the colors of the other boys’ wings, and ignored the color of his own, choosing to keep them tucked close enough that only the grey edges of the bottoms showed at all. This is why it took him 2 weeks to notice the first cracks.

****

Marinette had always found the dichotomy of her wings interesting. The light, pale pink fading to grey on the back, and the dark pine green on the underside. She thought it was pretty, and just a bit mysterious. Somehow, on hot days the inside of her wings would be just a bit cooler than the rest of her, soothing the heat just enough to be comfortable. On cold days, they gave off the heat of the summer sun, warming her through the cold nights in her attic bedroom. When Marinette got her miraculous, she worried about her wings giving her away, but instead of her pink/grey and green wings, she found that the pink was replaced by bright red with black dots, and the green was changed to black with red dots. Meeting up with Chat, she found him with startling acid-green and black patterned wings. “I guess they want to protect our identities.” He joked, laughing and admiring the pattern. “Let’s not focus on that, Kitty.” She sighed and turned to face Stoneheart. “This is scary enough as is without thinking about if they didn’t hide our wing colors.” “True… Let’s go.” His face turned suddenly serious. “Do you have a plan?” Stoneheart took time to defeat, and Ladybug forgot the Akuma, so they had to clean it up later, but… They were pretty happy with the partners they were starting to become. They started to get to know each other, not revealing identities, but learning everything else about each other. Until one day, Chat brought up something interesting. “Hey, what happens to your wings if something happens to your soulmate?” “Why do you ask, Kitty?” Ladybug paused as she was unpacking the dinner she’d brought with the two of them. “Someone I know, they commented about the color of a person’s wings when we were out together. They said something about how that person had lost their soulmate. Nobody ever said anything to me about the colors changing if we lose them.” He stared at his gloved palms, seeming to not see anything at all. “Why? Did yours change color recently?” Ladybug asked, alarmed. “No! No, they’re the same as always, but… My… My mother disappeared a while ago, and I want to know what to look for and how to know what happened to her if I see my father’s wings change.” He sighed deeply, dropping his head into his hands. “I know I can’t say more because we can’t know who each other are, but I just… I’m so terrified to see them changed one day.” Ladybug wrapped an arm and wing around Chat, pulling him to lean on her shoulder. “Oh Cat. I can tell you, but try to stay positive, okay?” At his nod, she continued. “Your color on the underside of your wings will change if your soulmate dies. If they die of old age, they turn pure white, if they were sick, pure black, if they had an accident, they become silver, if they died a hero or sacrificed themselves for someone, they turn gold, and… If they were killed, they turn blood red.” Ladybug sighed at the end and hugged Chat tighter. “Does your father have any of those colors without any other color or pattern? It’s only plain colors with no other pattern for if the person has died.” Chat took a deep breath, shaking his head, “No, they still look like Mom’s wings as of last I saw them. We… Don’t talk much.” He hugged Ladybug tightly, wrapping his wings around under the one she had put over his shoulders. “Thanks, Bug, I’m glad I know now… At least I know she’s still alive out there. Somewhere.” They finished their dinner, flying a circuit around Paris to make sure all is well before they called it a night. The next few weeks passed, and they kept up with the Akuma Victims, making sure to check in on the victims after each fight. The people of Paris started noticing something odd as this continued though. The Akuma fights, even though all damage was reversed after each one, were affecting their wings and those of their soulmates.

***

Damian squinted at the small spider-webbing of cracks that glowed gold on the underside of his wings. It reminded him of kintsugi in appearance, subtle cracks that showed gold between the usual colors. “Father, what does this mean? I thought your wings only changed color if your soulmate died?” He finally asked after the number of cracks increased to stretch in geometric patterns across the pink and grey feathers. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen this before.” Bruce frowned, looking closely and waving Tim over to him. “Will you try to find anything you can about this phenomena?” Uncharacteristically serious, Tim nodded and went to work right away, his red and black wings draped over his chair comfortably. Damian turned away before he noticed the colors inside his wings, not wanting to know. A sharp beep alerted him to his phone, and he raised an eyebrow at the photo. “It would seem Kent is having a similar problem.” He showed Tim the photo Jon had sent of his own wings, the blonde and emerald green feathers also showing cracks, in a similar geometric pattern, but in a mix of gold and blood red. “I shall inform him that we are already looking into it.” “Yes, let Jon know that we’re working on it. If his case increases at any point, or anyone else around him experiences it, have him notify us.” Tim called over his shoulder as he continued to work on the program he was making to search with.

***

How long does it take for your wings to change color when your soulmate dies?

Marinette chewed her fingernail as she scrolled through the results, reading a few different reports comparing the reported time of death and when the soulmates’ wings changed color, mostly reported by hospitals in the case of illness or death. “Within two or three minutes. That explains a lot, actually. But then why are they not completely changed, just showing cracks?” “You have dealt with some pretty destructive Akuma recently.” Tikki recalled from her place on her Chosen’s shoulder. “Maybe those only kinda count because they would have been permanent if you hadn’t done the Cure?” “I suppose. Syren was pretty intense, and so many of the people who have the markings were probably people whose loved ones and even they themselves drowned.” Marinette sighed. “I wonder what Mamman and Papa think about all this?” “You could probably ask them… It isn’t so strange to wonder since you can see the cracks in their wings, and in other people’s at school.” Tikki suggested. “Good idea, what would I do without you?” Marinette giggled, patting Tikki’s head and opening the edge of her blazer so Tikki could listen in from there. The bakery was quiet at the moment, so Marinette had little trouble catching a few minutes of her parents’ time. “What do you think about them? I saw Alya and Nino with the markings at school and I’m not sure what they mean.” “Well, I’ve seen them before, but not this much on one person.” Her Papa said carefully, “Your Grandpa Roland had a heart attack not long before your Maman and I got together. Did you notice the black edging to some of Grandma Gina’s feathers?” “I thought she just had black markings.” Marinette answered softly. “On the back of her wings, yes, but his wings are just grey and white with the black tips.” Tom sighed, rubbing his face. “This many cracks… and the mix of colors. It’s very unusual. I can only assume it’s because of the akuma attacks. Which means that either your soulmate is very lucky, or they aren’t in Paris.”

[juniorgman187]

The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her. 

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier  (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research. 

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week. 

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig. 

I’d officially hit rock bottom. 

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop. 

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press. 

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. 

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile. 

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like. 

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers. 

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me. 

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one. 

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project! 

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette. 

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie. 

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to. 

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August. 

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that. 

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying. 

A house don’t fall when the bones are good. 

The bones. 

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so. 

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance? 

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am. 

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about. 

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that. 

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. 

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher. 

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio. 

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary. 

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time. 

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me. 

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway. 

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out. 

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation. 

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.” 

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now. 

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped. 

Valerie. 

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way. 

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was. 

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare. 

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was. 

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.” 

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?” 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...” 

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed. 

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?” 

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.” 

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?” 

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room. 

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive. 

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before. 

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?” 

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer. 

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.” 

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe. 

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me. 

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body. 

She was so close. 

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there. 

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions. 

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?” 

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again. 

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there. 

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me. 

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass. 

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 7- Love Lines & Soul Finds

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookstore/bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,966

Summary: You and Bucky go on your first date, make some plans and share much more than just your time. 

Author’s Note: So, I’ve been thinking about this story a lot lately and I realize that it really is just a love story. There is nothing new or revolutionary about it, just two people falling in love in my favorite city. I know it’s slow moving but I’m so thankful for those of you that have been reading and sticking with me. I really appreciate it because believe me I have read and continue to read some really fucking incredible series out there that were and are so exciting and amazing in every way. People are so damn talented! Thank you again! Also, Gallow Green, Attaboy (the bar Bucky works at) and Harbs are all real places in NYC that I’ve been too and I can’t wait to go again ❤ Thank you all for reading, all my love❤❤❤

Warnings: fluff, super corny sweet Bucky, first date excitement, tiny angst (super tiny), Bucky to the rescue, implied sexy times, lots of kisses as usual :) 

Previous Chapters 

Chapter 1: Enchantment 

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers

The rest of your day goes by quickly. Nat comes over to help you pick out your date night outfit as you both gush over your evenings “Do you think it’s bad that I can’t wait to see him again and I just saw him a few hours ago?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at her. With a scoff she throws a new dress at you, “try this on and stop it. You’re obviously head over heels for him and from what you tell me and what I saw he feels the same. Enjoy yourself.”

You shimmy into the dress, pulling at the hem and waist before twirling to face Nat, “yes?” She claps her hands and gives you thumbs up, “perfect, you look amazing.” Once your hair and makeup are finished you text Bucky to let him know you’ll be leaving soon. Nat walks out with you and you each hail a cab. “Have fun with Sam tonight!” you chime, giving her a wink. She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile, “thanks, I know he’s going to be working at the bar but I’m just excited to hang out again.” Pulling her in for a hug you tell her, “I so get it.”

When you reach the bookshop, you hop out of the cab, thanking and tipping the driver and all but skipping to the door. The bell chimes when you walk in, your eyes searching the front of the store for Bucky. He’s no where to be seen so you head to the reading nook at the back, your eyes lighting up when you find a single rose laying on the cushion with a note attached. “I’m still wearing the smile you gave me.”

“Oh Bucky,” you say into the silence, bringing the flower up to your nose. You hear his footsteps approach and turn to see him walking down the aisle toward you. You launch yourself into his arms, rose in hand and kiss him. “Thank you, thank you, it’s so beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you. You look incredible, he states, kissing you again, this time letting his hands wander over your waist and hips. Any other words you had planned to say are silenced by his mouth on yours, the kiss quickly heating up.

He pulls away to breathe, his fingers twirling into your hair. “What time are out reservations?” you ask, failing to hide the want in your voice. “In like 20 minutes,” he pouts, “and it’s so nice out I figured we could walk there since it’s close.” Brushing your lips to his you ask, “does that mean we need to leave now?” Bucky gives you a small nod and squeezes your hand. “Ok. I’ve really been looking forward to this, so we better leave now before we don’t,” you say with a wink.

“I have too, let’s go!” Bucky agrees with one last kiss. The two of you walk hand in hand down the street, the city alive with the excitement over the change in weather, summer on the way. “I love this city,” you whisper into the wind, smiling at Bucky. “Me too, y/n. Even more so now,” he adds, watching you dip your head with a blush. He stops you in the middle of the street, pulling you in a for a sweet kiss, “mmmm definitely like it more now.”

He starts walking again, bringing your hand up to his lips as you practically float next to him. “Here we are,” he says, motioning to a sweet little spot tucked away in Chelsea. “I’ve never been here before!” you say with excitement. “Just wait until you see the outdoor seating in the back.” Smiling like an idiot you greet the hostess and follow her to the back, your breath catching as you take in the intimate seating area surrounded beautiful greenery and soft lighting. “Here are your menus, your waiter will be with you right away, welcome to Gallow Green.”

“Oh, Bucky! It’s so perfect!” you quietly squeal, looking around. “I had a feeling you would love it here, I’m glad it was a surprise, I was worried you might have been before.” Shaking your head, no you reach out to grab his hand, “thank you. This is already the best first date I’ve ever had.” Bucky’s smile widens and his eyes crinkle and you fall a little harder, hoping you don’t have actual hearts in your eyes.

“I’m so glad, doll. I know we did things a little backwards, but I want you to know I intended to take you out properly and all.” Instead of blushing at his own implication he says it with confidence, his eyes darkening as you hum and brush your foot up his leg. “Oh, it was worth it,” you assure him. Letting out a low growl only you can hear, he replies, “so worth it.”

The waiter comes over and neither of you notice until he clears his throat and smiles, asking if you would like drinks and to hear the specials. You order some drinks and Bucky recommends some appetizers. The conversation flows as easily as ever, Bucky asking you questions about your childhood and telling you more about his and the adventures with his grandparents. You learn that he spent many of his younger years with them, the bond they have extremely special and strong.

“So, I’m named after him, my mother knew it would make him so happy. Everyone calls me Bucky instead of James so no one gets confused, but I think we could have handled it.” He laughs, clearly caught up in a memory. You don’t push, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze while you give him the moment. “Grandpa would have loved you, you know,” he says, voice strained with emotion. Before you can answer he continues, “and grandma won’t stop asking when you’re coming over for dinner.”

You get up, Bucky’s brows furrowing in confusion until you circle your arm around his neck and sit in his lap, kissing him firmly before whispering in his ear, “thank you.” He hums against your lips, securing you against his chest as you two continue to whisper to each other, drawing the eyes of the other patrons.

Noticing the waiter approaching with your tray of food you reluctantly get up and sit back in your seat, Bucky’s eyes twinkling with amusement as the waiter smiles at you both. “Enjoy your meal, if you need anything just let me know.” Thanking him you dig in, tasting everything and loving it! “The food is so good!” you say through a mouthful. Bucky gives you a wink, taking a forkful off his plate and holding it up to you, “here, try this.” He brings the fork to your mouth, gently feeding you the bite, his eyes bright as he watches you chew. “WOW,” is all you manage to say.

The rest of dinner is a whirlwind of delicious food, perfect conversation, and soft touches. When you leave the restaurant Bucky throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his side, “want to have some really amazing dessert before heading back? I know a great place nearby.” You smile up at him, crooking your finger so he leans down for a kiss. “I bet I know where you’re going to take me,” you say against his mouth.

“Try me,” he counters, nuzzling his nose to yours. “HARBS!” you shout, maybe a little too loudly but you don’t really care. “OK FINE, you’re right!” he says, with a playful roll of his eyes.  You come to a dead stop, standing still on the sidewalk, and looking at Bucky wide eyed. “Bucky, what am I going to get?!?! A slice of the Queen of cake or one of the Strawberry cake!?!?! I can’t eat two, they are huge!”

It takes Bucky a moment to realize you’ve stopped walking because you’re unsure of what slice of cake to get at Harbs. He laughs, jogging back to you and snaking his arm around your waist, “how about we get a slice of each and we can share them, this way you can have both!” Giggling into his neck you say, “oh yea, that makes sense.” He brushes his fingers along your jaw, gently drawing your eyes to his, “it does, doesn’t it.”

You smile up at him for the 100th time that evening and Bucky can feel those familiar words pile up, settling right on the tip of his tongue, both weightless and heavy. He recognizes the look in your eyes because it’s reflected in his own and before he can think on it any more he opens his mouth only to be interrupted by a loud, “hey asshole, watch where you’re goin’, can’t ya see I’m walking here.”

Bucky instinctively wraps his arms around you and blocks your body with his which makes you laugh into his shoulder. “I thought you grew up in this city, Bucky? Aren’t you used to this crap?” you ask him, eyes alight with laughter. His shoulders drop and he lets out a breath, “I did! I am, I was just…distracted,” he says, a light blush tinting his cheeks.

“He did kind of ruin our moment, huh?” Standing on your toes you leave a trail of kisses along his neck and jaw, effectively changing the mood. “Ready for some dessert?” you say before kissing his lips.  “Like hell I am, maybe we should get it to go?” Twirling and pulling him by the hand you look over your shoulder with a sly smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next day…

Monday morning hits you like a ton of bricks, the lack of sleep and previous nights fun catching up to you. Bucky left early, allowing you time to get ready for work and time for him to get home before opening the store. Even with the heaviness of the day you feel like you’re floating on air, your thoughts never far from Bucky and the perfect weekend you had.

“Nat, I swear. It was the perfect date. I feel like this can’t be real.” You walk and talk, making your way toward the building. “He’s too good to be true!” Nat chuckles in your ear, “I know what you mean, but he’s very real.” With a dreamy sigh you nod in agreement even though she can’t see you. “I bet you look like one of those walking hearts for eyes emoji’s right now,” she laughs, never one to stop teasing you. “Whatever, Nat! You’re gonna be right where I am before you know it. I can tell you really like Sam.” She doesn’t deny it, but you can feel her smile through the phone. “Whatever you say, y/n. Have a good day.”

Ending your call, you head into work, seeing that Bucky had sent you a text while you were talking to Nat. ‘Miss you already, doll❤ .’ You crash your phone to your chest, stopping dead in your tracks and doing a small happy dance. “Happy Monday to you too,” your coworker laughs, “someone must have had a good weekend.” You smile brightly and say, “something like that,” before walking to your desk.

You don’t get to see Bucky the for the next couple of days, work, errands, and life in general keeping you busy. He texts you every morning when he first wakes up and you two are in touch throughout the day. By the time Thursday rolls around you’re sick of work and decide you’re going to cut out early and visit him at the bookshop.

When you walk in you notice he’s speaking to someone, but you can’t quite see who it is behind his large frame. Your footsteps alert them both and Bucky turns to you, his face lighting up as he jogs over and crushes you to his chest. “Hi,” he whispers into your hair. “I’m gonna kiss you now even though my grandma is watching, I’ve been waiting all week!” You don’t get a chance to argue, his lips crashing to yours in a light but sweet kiss.

He grudgingly pulls away and walks you over to his grandma, her happiness at seeing you nearly mirroring his. “So good to see you again, y/n,” she says as she gives you a hug. “It’s lovely to see you too Betty!” With a twinkle in her eye she looks you both over, “Bucky and I were just talking about you, weren’t we? When are you available to come over for dinner?” Leaning into Bucky, you say, “what about Sunday?” “That sounds perfect and would you bring some of those delicious cookies you made?” Bucky agrees, “oh yes! And you should probably make an extra batch just for me!” Poking his side, you happily say “yes,” giving Betty one more hug as she explains she must leave so she isn’t late for her mahjong game.

As soon as his grandma is out of sight Bucky pulls you into the small room behind the counter, backing you against the wall, “I really hope we don’t get any customers.” You dip your fingers into his jeans and pull his body flush to yours, kissing him soundly. Your make out session is interrupted by the chime of the bell over the door, the loud chatter of a group of people cutting through the moment. “Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky whines.

Plastering on his best sales smile he walks out and greets the customers, quickly pointing them in the right direction. “Let me know if you need anything else.” You sneak out from behind the counter and pretend as if you’re searching for a book. “Excuse me sir, could you help me find something.” Bucky’s eyes darken as he stalks toward you. “Did you just call me sir?” he all but growls into your ear. You give his hair a little tug, a cheeky grin on your face as you say, “maybe I did.”

Right before he gets the chance to steal a few more kisses the people emerge from the aisle, books in hand. “I guess I have to go check them out,” he sighs, giving you a quick peck before doing just that. He finishes up, glancing at his watch, “we close in a half hour then I have a shift at the bar.” You wrap your arms around his neck, “are you working this weekend too?” He runs his hands over your ass and gives it a light squeeze, “Friday and Saturday again.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just have to come hang out at the bar. You know keep you company while you work. I could bring Nat; she’ll want to see Sam I’m sure.” Bucky kisses you, “that sounds,” another kiss, “perfect,” more kisses. “Mmm great, I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” After a few more heated moments you part, Bucky walking you out and waiting while you grab a cab.

No sooner does your ass hit the seat of the car that your phone pings, ‘can’t wait until tomorrow night😍.’ Your bubbly laugh is uncontrollable as you text him back, ‘me either,’ quickly opening Nat’s message and asking her if she wants to go to the bar with you.

Friday night…

“What do you think Nat?” you ask, as usual looking to her for advice on your outfit. “I love it and the color is amazing on you.” Touching up your lip gloss you smile at her in the mirror’s reflection, grabbing your bag with a “let’s go!”

The bar is packed and you text Bucky to let him know you’re there. In less than a minute, Sam is outside, greeting Nat with a sweet kiss and giving you a hug, “come on ladies, right this way.” Nat looks back at you and mouths, “nice,” as you move past the line.

As soon as you walk in you search for Bucky. You don’t see him behind the bar but continue following Sam to the other end, two open bar stools waiting for you. “Bucky’s grabbing something from the back but I can get you started,” Sam says smoothly. Nat tells him to make whatever he thinks you’ll like and Sam grins, kissing her cheek before moving behind the bar.

While you wait for your drinks and Bucky you and Nat gush over how cute Sam is. “Omg, I’m so excited. He seems so nice. And he has a great ass,” you laugh watching as Nat enthusiastically agrees. Just as you’re about to say something about Bucky a warm arm slides around your shoulders. The hairs on your arm stand up but not for a good reason as you turn your head and come face to face with a man you have never seen before.

“Can I help you,” you ask, tone unfriendly as you move out from under his arm. “Can I buy you a drink beautiful,” he asks, stepping into your personal space. “NO, thank you,” you say firmly, once again moving away from him. “Aw come on baby, you can’t tell me you didn’t come here looking for a good time tonight.” Your nose wrinkles in disgust, your mouth opening to tell him off.

“Hey buddy, didn’t you hear her when she said no thank you.” Now that’s a voice you recognize, spinning to see Bucky standing right behind you, his arms folded over his chest and his jaw clenched. “Who asked you, asshole,” the guy shoots back, clearly not taking a hint. “My boyfriend did, actually,” you say, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s middle and glaring at the guy. The guy scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking off while mumbling under his breath. You look up at Bucky, his eyes soft as he asks, “did you just call me your boyfriend?”

@aesthetical-bucky @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @nerdypinupcrystal @scarletsoldierrr @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @flyawaybaybay @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @hawksmagnolia​

[drummergirl231-2]

I don’t even know what to title this.

I’ve been trying to come up with a title for I don’t know how long and now I’m legit crying because I can’t even figure out how to start this post... so this will have to do.

I’m not okay. I can’t keep up with all this and everything going on in my life. I feel like I’m strapped into a car on a collision course for a brick wall and I’m just frozen in fear anticipating the impact. 

Everything has kind of been spiraling out of control in my personal life (if you want you can skip to the bolded headings for what’s relevant to this blog).

My parents - whom a lot of you know about from my GoFundMe - are moving from California to Tennessee. I can’t afford to stay in California so I have to go with them (though they insist my going with them is my choice and that I totally have other options... but whatever. At least I’ll be out of California). 

If my job can’t transfer me, I’ll lose it just when I was going to get the most hours (and therefore money) of the year, but my parents refuse to wait until after Christmas to sell.

My grandma recently died and even though my grandpa (step-grandfather) invited us up to the house at one point, his horrible son met us on the porch and rudely refused to let us in, telling us his father wasn’t seeing anyone. Now that his horrible son has left, grandpa invited my uncle and aunt up, but not my parents or me, and my uncle said he’s going to do what he can to bring us what we want of grandma’s. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandma because her death was sudden, and now I’m scared I won’t get to say goodbye to the only grandpa I’ve ever known, either, because I’m moving to Tennessee and he’s 89 and has heart problems and I’m scared he’ll die of a broken heart in every sense. I’d have liked to say goodbye to the house, too. My grandma didn’t want a funeral. She was one of those “Don’t fuss over me,” types who fussed over all of us. I have zero closure in this situation.

I have to get ready to move but have no idea how/when/where to start. I’m terrified of the 4 day journey to Tennessee, trapped in an SUV with my parents and five animals, including my poor elderly cat, Kira, whose anxiety makes mine look mild. I have Misophonia and so many food allergies I can’t eat out so I don’t know how I’ll do food for four days. My parents say they won’t bring the camping stove for me to warm up my lunches. It’s like they never raised an autistic child.

Things have been crazy for “Kristen,” me, but losing my grandparents, my home, possibly my job, and moving far from any family or friends I trust aside... things haven’t been easy for “DG,” me, either. 

As badly as I want to start a youtube channel about Autism, Misophonia, food allergies, gut health, emotional abuse, etc., I cannot find the answers no matter how much I google when it comes to the tech problems I’ve faced. And I’m not even sure when I’d be able to record these videos because my parents are almost never gone. And when they are it’s not for long, and I just want to relax, and breathe, and be in the living room, and talk and sing out loud, and do all the things I don’t get to do when they’re here for just a little bit. I stay in my room so much I feel like I’m a diver holding my breath and as soon as they leave I can surface and gasp for air. 

Also, I’m getting more and more self-conscious about my acne and this one tooth I have that’s crooked because my mom has enjoyed commenting on them lately and it makes me kind of scared to share my face with the internet and last night I legit had a dream about trying to get these things fixed with more braces and foundation. Like what even I literally don’t care about this stuff when people don’t comment on it. Why do I have to be so sensitive?

Problem is, I am figuring out why. I’ve been doing so much research on Narcissistic Personality Disorder and narcissistic abuse to try to understand my parents and childhood and young adult years, that not only have I been able to identify it in my abusers, but I’ve found some traits in myself. And I’ve searched and studied and tried to see if I have it and after this inward witch hunt I have to conclude I don’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but I have a few signs of vulnerable narcissism. Even if they’re not enough for a label, they’re definitely things I need to work on (things like hypersensitivity, victim mentality, sulking and shut down, self-sabotage, things like that... and now apparently vanity, but only when people frequently give me flack about my face). Trouble is I don’t know how to work on these because I have no mentor, no counselor/therapist, no pastor, nothin’. And most of the videos about Narcissism are about identifying it or surviving it as the victim, not growing past the traits, because full-blown narcissists generally don’t acknowledge their flaws and try to fix them. So I’m at this annoying and fruitless phase of “self-improvement” where I just frequently scold myself for my thoughts.

YouTube ambitions and flaws aside, I have people waiting for the next chapter of my fanfic, and no one’s been pushy or anything, but there’s this huge weight on me to write, write, write, but with everything else going on in my life I just feel stuck. Like my brain is just “NERP.” And I feel guilty, like I’m the biggest disappointment to people.

And then there’s this blog itself. 

It’s begun to feel more like an obligation for me rather than recreation. Every week I dread the time after a new episode airs. I want to make posts at my pace, about what I want to talk about, like what I used to do. 

But sometimes the link I get has a weird video player window that I can’t make the right size to make decent gifs, and sometimes I can’t even take screenshots because when I pause it it’ll have the play triangle in the middle of the screen and the bottom of the screen will get dark, or sometimes the link just stops working. So I wait for the episode to go up on watchcartoononline because that’s where it works best for me but in the meantime I’m missing out on the fandom being online and by the time the episode goes up I’m just like, “What if the post I make of this moment gets like zero notes because it’s already been giffed and talked about a million times and I’m late to the party? What if I’m disappointing everyone?”

I try to not post anything until I can post about the episode properly, and I’ve asked people not to send me asks or messages with episode spoilers until they’ve seen proof on my blog that I’ve seen the episode, but that hasn’t stopped them. I get spoilery asks anyway.

I get a link relatively quickly but mainly I ask for people to wait for proof I’ve seen the episode because I want a chance to get my own thoughts on the episode out first before people ask me about specific things or straight up demand I talk about what they want me to talk about on my blog. 

For a couple weeks I even made all my posts and saved them as drafts first so real quick I could just post ‘em all in a row and get ‘em out, because I know the second I post one thing I’ll have everyone going “OMIGOSH SHE’S ONLINE,” and trying to send me asks and messages and I’ll be trying to juggle them all while trying to make more posts about what I want to talk about. I feel like I have to reply to those messages because if I don’t I’m scared they’ll see me make another post after they’ve sent their message and be like, “What the heck she’s online why won’t she reply to me?” So sometimes I’ll just stop posting and hope and pray they think they just missed me or something, which isn’t fair to them.

But then I’ll see something new on my dash - art from khionyohann, new screencaps for the upcoming episode that DuckTalks shared - and I’ll want to reblog it, but then I’ll think: “I can’t reblog anything... people will know I’m online then. And I still haven’t posted about the episode. I can’t do things out of order. They’ll think, ‘Why isn’t she talking about the new episode? Why isn’t she answering my asks? Why isn’t she replying to me?”

And by the time the episode gets posted on watchcartoononline (and as long as I don’t have a migraine and I’m not paralyzed with fear), I make my posts, but by then I feel like I’m super late and I don’t even know what the point is of me reblogging things anymore, if I even remember there were things I wanted to reblog.

My time here has become nothing but me trying to please people while simultaneously trying to hide from them.

So... blarg. All that to say, I’m closing my ask box for a while. And I’m sorry to disappoint people. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. Extroverted thinking isn’t even a cognitive function that comes naturally to an INFJ! It’s utterly exhausting. 

And while I do still want to do more posts about the latest episode, I hope you’ll understand that things are just crazy for me right now and I’m not in a good place. I’m trying to be okay and I’m trying to be so excited about an episode that I get motivated enough find ways to blog about it no matter what but I don’t have the energy. I want to reblog stuff, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to interact. 

And for the few I consider true friends on here, please know I’m not asking you to leave me alone or anything. Just know I might not respond as soon as you message me... which, honestly, you’re probably all used to by now, but I still feel super guilty about it.

I just need to simplify my time on here a little bit because I’m not okay.

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.23

GIF not mine. Credit goes to owner.

Summary: Willy makes a very important decision, and he seeks out Priscilla for some advice.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​ @sleepiesapphicxoxo​

Willy and Charlie were hard at work in the inventing room, coming up with some new ideas for candy. Charlie was definitely coming up with some good ideas, and Willy was loving each one. Even though he was hard at work, Willy's mind was elsewhere.

"Is everything alright, Mr Wonka?" Charlie asked, noticing he seemed a bit distracted.

"Oh, yes" Willy said with a nod. A small smile grew on his face. "I just can't stop thinking about Rose"

Charlie grinned. "You really love her, don't you, Mr Wonka?"

"More than you can imagine, Charlie" Willy answered dreamily. "I know I haven't been with her long, but yet it feels like I've spent an entire lifetime with her. I love her smile, her laugh, her eyes, and that angelic voice she has, whether she's talking or singing! I just.... I love her"

Never once did Willy Wonka ever think he would feel this way about anybody. He used to feel so disgusted at the idea of love. But then Rose came along, and she helped him realize that love was a wonderful thing to feel.

"Charlie" Willy muttered quietly, staring off into space, still thinking about his beautiful starshine. "I don't think I'll be able to wait..."

The young boy furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what Willy was trying to say. "Wait for what, Mr Wonka?"

"I want to marry Rose. I need to marry her" Willy confessed. "I was going to wait a year, but now..." He then started laughing with pure happiness. "I'm going to ask her to marry me!" Willy started pacing back and forth, now talking more to himself than he was Charlie. "Yes, we have only been together for a few days, but I know I'm gonna love her for the rest of my life. So, why not?"

Charlie couldn't believe his ears. Here was Willy Wonka, declaring his everlasting love for Rose Bucket, and now he was announcing his intention to marry her as soon as possible.

"You don't think it's too soon, do you Charlie?" Willy asked for Charlie's input.

"I don't think it's too soon" Charlie answered honestly. Now, if this were anyone else wanting to marry Rose, he would want at least a year before her suitor were to propose. See if the man truly did love Rose. Unlike that rotten boy, Harry. Charlie always knew that Harry wanted to marry his sister just to claim her as a trophy. Something to show off.

But this was Mr Wonka. A man who has proved that he's truly, madly and deeply in love with Rose. Willy didn't just love Rose for her looks. He loved her because she was Rose. After all, the man did make an entire room in the factory just dedicated to her. If that doesn't prove true love, then Charlie wasn't sure what did.

Charlie was curious about one thing and so he asked Willy. "When did you know you were in love with Rose?"

Willy's eyes twinkled as he reminisced about the day of the tour. "It was the moment she shook my hand" He looked down at his hand and smiled as he remembered. "Charlie, if I'm going to propose to Rose, what kind of things do I need to do first?"

"Usually people seek out blessings from families. You already have my blessing to marry my sister, but it's still a good idea to tell my family that you intend to marry her"

"Blessings, got it!" Willy added to his mental list. "And how exactly should I propose to her? I want it to be really special and romantic for her"

Charlie thought it over. He wasn't really sure. He was only eleven and the only bit of romance he's ever seen were from his parents and grandparents, and now Rose and Willy. "I'm not quite sure, but I'm sure if you ask Rose's friends, they could help you out. They probably know more about marriage than I do"

"Yeah! I'll do just that!" Willy said.

It was as if they said Rose's name too many times because she came to join them. "Hello, you two!" She greeted happily.

Charlie hugged her. "Hello, Rosie" He then let go of her so she could walk over to Willy.

"Hello, starshine" Willy greeted his love. He held her face with both of his hands and leaned in to kiss her. "I missed you" He said, touching his forehead to hers.

Rose giggled. "It's only been a whole morning, Willy!"

"A whole morning too long without you" Willy whispered softly to her. He smiled fondly at her, his eyes scanning over every inch of her face. Yeah, he was absolutely sure he was ready to marry her. "Have I told you I love you today?"

Rose smirked, gently biting her plump bottom lip. "Maybe once or twice, but why don't you tell me again"

Willy giggled dreamily. "I love you!"

"I love you too" Rose purred back to him. Willy brought her into another kiss. Forgetting that Charlie was still with them, Willy moved one hand from Rose's face to the back of her neck and gently pushed her forward into a deeper kiss. "Willy..." Rose mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm?" Willy hummed in response, not daring to let his lips leave hers.

Rose managed to pull away from Willy, and he whined in protest. "Charlie's still in the room with us..." She said, pointing in the direction of her baby brother. Not that Charlie seemed bothered by the two of them. In fact, he had been watching them with a smile. But Rose felt like it needed to stop before the kiss took them further than just kissing.

"Sorry" Willy muttered out quietly and shyly. He closed his eyes and nuzzled against Rose's neck. "I just get carried away when I'm with you"

"It's okay" Rose said, touching his cheek. "I love it when you get carried away" She winked at him as she stepped away from Willy.

Willy's mouth gaped open, heat came to his cheeks, and he just felt an overall tingly feeling when she said that. But it was a good tingle. One that made him want more.

Rose stepped closer to Charlie. "And how are you today, Charlie?" She asked as she ruffled his hair. "You and Willy having fun?"

"Loads!" Charlie answered her.

"That's good. Anything important you were discussing before I walked in?"

Charlie and Willy shared a look. Then, Charlie looked back at his sister and quickly made something up. "Just possible new flavours for candy"

"I see" Rose said, nodding curtly. "Well then, I'll let you two get back to it" The moment that she walked past Willy, he grabbed her by the hand.

"Please stay, starshine" He begged of her, flashing her a smile.

"You'll see me again tonight, Willy" Rose told him.

Willy's smile quickly changed to a pout. "But tonight is so long away!"

"But the wait will make it worth it when you see me again" Rose pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. Willy's eyes fluttered shut at the feel of her soft lips against his skin.

When Rose left the room, Willy stood still in his spot, touching the spot where Rose kissed him. He could still feel the touch of her lips ghosting against his skin.

"Mr Wonka?" Charlie called to him, knocking him out of his daze.

"Huh?" Willy murmured. He turned to Charlie. "Oh, yes. Let's get back to work, shall we!" He said excitedly. "I'm suddenly feeling a big wave of inspiration" Of course, Willy was talking about Rose.

******

After Charlie and Willy got a good amount of work done in the inventing room, Willy wanted to start planning his proposal. But first things first, he needed blessings from the Bucket family. That's what brought him to stand in front of the entire family (excluding Rose of course).

"What is it that you want to ask us, Willy?" Mrs Bucket asked.

"Well..." Willy started, nervously swallowing a lump in his throat. What happens if he asks for their blessing, but they say no? Would he still marry Rose? Or would he need to end things with her? "I wanted to..." Willy reached up and removed his hat, and then fiddled with it nervously. "I wanted to ask..."

He looked to Charlie, looking for some support. Charlie gave Willy a smile and a nod. "It's okay, Mr Wonka. Go on"

"Right" Willy nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more confident about asking. "I'm about to ask you all something very important. I know Rose and I haven't been together for that long, but I'm absolutely sure that I love her"

Mr and Mrs Bucket shared a knowing glance. Mr Bucket smiled as he said to his wife, "I think I know where this is going"

Willy heard what Mr Bucket said, and he also saw the way he smiled when he said it. That gave him another boost of confidence. Willy put his hat back on and stood up straighter. He then wore that lovesick grin on his face as he continued on. "I'm never going to love anyone else that way that I love Rose. You see, I'm going to ask her to marry me but I want to know if I have your blessings to do so"

"Now Willy, are you absolutely sure that you're ready to marry Rose?" Mrs Bucket asked. Of course, she was happy to hear that Willy wanted to marry her daughter, but to her, it seemed that he was moving a little too fast with this decision. "There's no harm in waiting a year"

"I've never been more sure of any decision, not even when it comes to my candy" Willy explained.

"Dear," Mrs Bucket looked at her husband. "Don't you think it's too soon for them to marry?"

Mr Bucket shrugged. "Well, it's clear that they're very in love. And they'd end up getting married eventually"

Grandpa George butted in. "Let the man marry our Rose! They already live together"

Grandpa Joe added. "And if Willy is absolutely sure that he's ready to ask Rose, then I don't see no reason why he shouldn't"

Grandma Josephine nodded. "They already act like they're married. Why not make it official?"

Grandma Georgina smiled. "Rose will say yes!"

Mrs Bucket smiled, having her answer. "As long as you're absolutely sure, then you have our blessings, Willy"

"Thank you!" Willy said, wearing a great big smile on his face. "And I promise that I'll be the best son-in-law you could ever ask for!"

******

After getting the Bucket's blessings, Willy took the elevator to go see Rose's friends. He was sure that they'd be able to help him plan a perfect proposal. Willy walked up the front steps to what was Priscilla's front door. Out of everyone, Rose seemed closest to her so she would be the best to ask. He rang the doorbell and he heard Priscilla as she approached the door.

"Whatever it is you're selling, I don't want—" Priscilla opened the door and stopped herself as she saw that it was Willy. She smiled brightly at him. "Hello, Willy! What brings you by?"

"I was hoping I could talk to you about something" Willy said.

"Alright, well come on in. Make yourself at home" Priscilla said. Willy smiled at her as he stepped into her home. Priscilla made her way into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?" She called out to Willy.

"No, thank you. I'm fine" Willy called back. He began snooping around her living room, searching her drawers and cupboards. When Priscilla joined him, she came back with a cup of tea and sat on the couch.

"So, Willy, what brings you by? And where is Rose?" She asked curiously. It wasn't like him to go anywhere without her.

"Actually, I wanted some advice about something" Willy said, taking a seat in one of the chairs. "And it involves Rose"

Priscilla quirked an eyebrow. "Is everything alright between you two?"

Willy smiled wildly. "Oh, everything is perfect!" Priscilla returned his grin as she took a sip from her tea. "That's why I'm gonna ask her to marry me!"

Priscilla's eyes went wide and the tea sprayed out of her mouth. "W-what?" She coughed out.

"Haven't you been listening to me?" Willy said to her with a slightly annoyed tone. "I'm gonna ask Rose to marry me! You should really pay more attention"

"I heard you, Willy" Priscilla said, setting her tea onto the coffee table. "I just wasn't expecting to hear you say it so soon"

"I know it seems fast, but I'm sure that this is what I want to do" Willy surely said. "And that's why I need your help, Priscilla. I want a perfect proposal!"

Priscilla could tell that Willy was absolutely sure about this. "Okay. If this is what you want to do, then I'll help you propose to her"

"Thank you!" Willy said happily. "You know, besides the Oompa-Loompas, I've never really had a friend before, and I'm glad you're one of mine"

Priscilla smiled again, feeling her heart warm at Willy's sentiment. "I'm glad you're my friend too. Now, you just leave the planning to me and the others. All you have to do is show up with Rose and a ring. Do you have one?"

"Yep" Willy nodded, and then he proceeded to admit shyly. "I actually had one made a day after we met..."

Priscilla went wide eyed again. "Willy!"

"What?" He frowned in confusion. Was that not a normal thing to do? "I knew I wanted to be with her forever" He quickly defended himself.

"After a day!?" Priscilla asked in shock.

"Have you not fallen in love with someone after a day?" Willy challenged her. Priscilla opened her mouth to say something, but immediately closed it. Willy smirked. "Who is it?"

"Not important..." Priscilla trailed off, before her thoughts got caught up with a boy whose name rhymes with 'nanny'. Priscilla continued on. "But what is important, is that I already have an idea of how the proposal should go"

Willy clapped his hands together, eager to hear what Priscilla was thinking. "Tell me everything!"

And so, Priscilla began to explain to Willy the plan of how he should propose to Rose. Willy listened carefully to every word that came out of Priscilla's mouth. And he couldn't help but think. Tomorrow is going to be perfect.

[padfootagain]

Girl Crush (XXI)

Chapter 21: Acacia's Secret Love

 Here we go again for a new chapter!! This is cute, very cute, terribly cute... Why am I like this?

I don't know anything about medicine, but I remember my mum had to pass that kind of stuff once and it gave me such an amazing opportunity to have Harry take care of Y/N, I couldn't resist. So if something is wrong with my medical explanations, please, just... humour me on this one and just enjoy the cuteness.

I hope you'll like this new chapter! Next update in 48 to 72 hours, as usual!

Word Count: 3096

You were terrified, to be honest.

You had to check your eyesight, pass a test with a specialist. Which in itself was not particularly pleasant, but what really made you straight up terrified was that the test to be performed required your doctor to put a serum in your eyes that would make you blind for a few hours. And the idea of not seeing was just... unbelievably scary.

Gareth was busy with work and couldn't possibly get free for the afternoon to accompany you. But it was alright, you weren't alone. And if you had been honest with yourself you would have admitted that you were happy Harry was by your side instead of your boyfriend.

You blamed how reassuring it was to be by his side, Harry simply had a soothing aura about him. And God knew you needed every relaxing thing you could get right now.

But Harry was not as calm as you longed him to be. He kept on tapping the wooden ground with his foot and biting on his bottom lip. He had a small frown that wouldn't leave his brow and his eyes seemed a little greener than usual.

You heaved a sigh, looking up at the ceiling, and he moved to take your hand in his.

"I know," he nodded in a voice that was much calmer than what his pounding heart should have shown. "It's gonna be okay though. It's nothing."

"What if they find something weird?" You started to babble. "What if I react badly to that thing they'll give me and my eyes melt and I can never see again..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Your eyes will not melt. You're going to be fine. I just hope it's nothing serious causing your headaches. But I bet you just get old and need glasses, like the grandma you're becoming..."

"Pfff... a grandma? Already? Then you're a grandpa too."

"I am. I'll make soup for our poor teeth tonight."

You chuckled, shaking your head at him.

"You're so silly today!"

"It made you laugh though," he replied with pride.

But then, your name was called...

You and Harry exchanged a look, but you were to get in alone. So he merely gave you a thumb up, an encouraging smile, and waited for you.

He dried his sweaty palms on his blue jeans, heaving a sigh and biting on his lip once more. He was sure that it was nothing, you might need a pair of glasses, and that would be all. Still, medical tests were always stressful, and especially so when you were the one passing them.

Ever since his tour was over, Harry spent most of his time in L.A. It gave him a lot of time to spend with you, and after months of being apart, it was a welcomed change. He reckoned that he deserved a couple of months to rest before starting to work on a new album. It didn't mean that he had stopped writing music, he reckoned he never did. But before going back into a studio and surrounding himself with his team again, he wanted to spend some quality time with you.

And one of the advantages of being a musician was that he could spend as much time with you as he wanted. He could drop by at the flower shop, pick you up after work, eat with you at lunch, spend his evenings with you... He had nowhere to be, except by your side.

He reckoned that Gareth wasn't so happy about his return and the amount of time the two of you spent together, but you were adamant in ignoring him. Or, well... Harry reckoned that you didn't ignore his worry, you were too kind and loving for acting like this. But you also had an important rule when it came to your relationships, and that was that anyone controlling was out of the game. You had your boyfriend, and you had your friends, and if Gareth didn't like your friends, it was his problem, not yours. You would never give up on the people you loved for him. Which was why, Harry reckoned, you still spent so much time with him and Jas.

And Harry was the obvious choice to accompany you now. Gareth and Jas were both working, and Harry, being the artist he was, was available all day, like he had been ever since he had come back from tour.

If the test was unpleasant, it was nothing too terrible. It was rather quick, even, and you were soon back by Harry's side. The effects of the serum would take a few hours to dissipate, and you should get your sight back to normal during the evening. Harry drove you back to your apartment and guided you towards the staircase leading to your apartment with careful steps.

"Okay, we're at the stairs... Why can't you live in a building with an elevator like a normal person?" Harry complained, making you chuckle.

"Harry, your rich arse is showing."

You held his arm tightly, but seeing how slowly you walked up the stairs, and how you tripped on the third step already, Harry shook his head.

"Okay, stop, this is ridiculous. You can't climb to the fourth floor like that. Get down."

"Well, I'm not gonna wait in the hall until my sight comes back!" you replied, but Harry was already taking your arms and wrapping them around his neck. "What... what are you doing?"

"You're up for a piggy-back ride," he answered, and you could hear the cheeky grin in his tone.

You rolled your eyes.

"I can walk..."

"It'll be much faster and safer if I carry you. Come on, are you that afraid I'll drop you?"

"I mean... I wouldn't if you were like... Chris Hemsworth or Chris Evans or the Rock.... you know... more... muscular..." you mocked, doing a terrible job at hiding the amusement that was spreading across your features.

Harry shook his head, faking outrage.

"You're lucky you're blind and in so much need of my help right now. Are you saying I'm not fit enough to carry you up the stairs?"

"I'm saying I'm afraid you'll drop dead before we reach the first floor. I'm not so sure all your hours spent at the gym were enough to prepare you for that kind of effort."

"And I was trying to be nice..." he shook his head, but you were both chuckling, your voices made shaky by your badly-hidden laughter.

He turned around, bent down, and slipped his arms around your legs, letting you lean against his back before he would pick you up with a grunt.

Before you could protest, he was starting to climb the stairs.

"Honestly though, I am genuinely worried that you will get an asthma attack if you carry me all the way," you said, your tone serious now.

He waited to have reached the first floor before answering, stopping to adjust your position on his back.

"I'm fine."

And there he went, climbing another flight of stairs.

By the time he reached your floor, he was panting heavily, and you were properly worried, all traces of humour gone from your voice.

"Are you alright?" you asked as he gently put you down.

You could hear him struggling for breath by your side, but obviously couldn't see him as he nodded.

"Give me... a minute..." he answered, wiping the sweat away from his forehead.

"You're not gonna die on me, are you?"

Harry laughed despite his scattered breath.

"I'm fine. But give me a minute, I've just carried you for four floors!"

"Sorry about that."

"Give me your keys."

You reached for the item in your pocket, and handed them to Harry without a word.

He guided you inside your flat and to your sofa, and only relaxed when you were safely sitting on the comfortable cushions.

"Coffee or tea?" he asked, and you noticed that he was still out of breath.

"Tea. Thank you, Harry."

He brushed your remark away, which you didn't see, and disappeared in the kitchen, taking long and deep breaths while he prepared some boiling water.

"When will you get the results?" Harry asked from the kitchen.

"Next Monday. But the doctor said that it wasn't anything serious."

"Right..."

"Thank you again, for taking care of me today."

"Don't mention it."

He came back with two cups of tea, and handed you yours, that he had prepared exactly the way you liked without even a thought.

"Reach up a bit, I'm handing you your tea. Be careful, it's hot."

You were clumsy as you grabbed your drink, but still managed to take your cup without burning yourself or Harry.

"Do you need anything?"

You could hear Harry's concern in his voice, and it made you smile tenderly at him before you could think about the gesture. It was a bit selfish, but you felt loved and cared for whenever he was worried about you.

"I'm good. Thank you."

"I was about to propose to watch a movie, but that might not be the best activity for you right now..."

You laughed at him, shaking your head.

"Music is good though."

"Sure, what do you want to listen to?" Harry asked, already on his feet and heading towards your collection of vinyl.

"You."

"Hmm... the narcissist in me likes this answer, but my mum wouldn't approve something that gives such a boost to my ego."

"I meant... maybe you could... sing me something?"

Harry exploded with laughter.

"Sing you something?"

"Look, my best friend is a singer. And I'm blind, in case you had forgotten. Can't I ask for a little lullaby?"

He shook his head, but reached for your guitar anyway and sat down by your side on the couch, settling on your left.

"That's a no," he teased, securing the guitar against his leg.

"Hey! I'm very sick! I'm blind!"

"You're not sick. And it's just temporary."

"Alright, then... I won't ever listen to your music again."

"You're so mean."

"I know... but you're the one being mean now! I'm blind!"

He heaved a sigh, a large smile digging dimples in his cheeks.

"I'm lucky it'll wane today, God knows how many crazy things you would ask me to do because you're blind if you had more time."

You opened your mouth to reply, but Harry pulled on a string and started to tune your guitar.

A grin made its way across your lips, and you snuggled deeper in your sofa, sipping on your tea while patiently waiting for Harry to be ready.

"What would you like to listen to?" he asked in a soft, deep voice.

"Anything you'd like to play."

You weren't surprised when the first notes of Landslide echoed through your apartment. His voice was soft and warm and so reassuring as he sang. You closed your eyes, and didn't even notice your movements as you leaned closer to him, until you sat shoulder to shoulder together. Time felt like it had stopped altogether, and maybe it truly had, settling to take a look at the tender scene playing in your apartment, making the moment stretch a little longer.

And as you rested your head on Harry's shoulder, you reckoned that you had rarely felt so safe before.

And Harry kept on singing, bathed in the familiar melody and the way your warmth seemed to run through his whole frame. And it felt peaceful, so peaceful to have you against him like this, so close. It had been an awfully long time since he hadn't felt lonely. He wasn't surprised to find that it took having you against him to make the feeling go away.

Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm gettin' older, too

While he sang, Harry's eyes drifted towards your face, admiring the line of your eyelashes, and the bridge of your nose, and the curve of your lips...

Your lips... They seemed so soft, so reassuring. The sight of them made his heart stumble in his chest, missing a few beats and then pounding. He wondered how they would feel like against his. Would they taste like your tea? Would their appearance change a little if he kissed them long enough? What kind of sound would you make if he bit them lightly?

He almost missed the end of the song, and tried to focus on the strings he played again. Because he wasn't supposed to think about all these things, he wasn't supposed to... want to kiss you so damn much. It was a physical effort for him to not lean down to capture your lips with his. They looked so daunting, so tempting, it made his whole body ache to not cup your cheek and smash his mouth against yours.

The song was over, and silence settled back into the room, the sound of his heavy breathing the only noise ringing through your apartment. He could hear his heart beating, the movement vibrating against his eardrum.

You were alone, and you were so close, it would be so easy to finally kiss you. It would feel so right... Maybe he should tell you everything, actually. Maybe he should admit it all to you. How he dreamt about you, and how he missed you whenever you weren't in the same room as him, and how he wanted to love on you, God... he would love you so good. He would cherish you if you gave him the chance. He needed you. He was selfless when it came to you, he thought of your happiness before his, and he would have done anything you asked without a second thought.

Maybe it was time to admit that he thought of your lips when he couldn't sleep at night and was staring at his ceiling in the dark. That the taste of your name on his tongue was his favourite flavour. That the sound of his name in your voice was better to him than any song he had ever heard. That he was cheesy and desperately romantic when it came to you. That he was in love with you to a disgusting degree. That you had made his life better, and that you were, for a huge part, the reason why he felt better in his own skin these days. That all he wanted in this world, really, at the end of the day, once his existence had been stripped off of all superficial layers, was to hold you in his arms and keep you there to make sure nothing wrong would ever happen to you.

And he almost did.

He opened his mouth to let out the words he had been holding in for so long. Because perhaps you would change your mind. Maybe you would leave Gareth to be with him instead...

But the sound of keys turning in your front door made him jump, and you sat up, frowning.

"What time it it? Gareth isn't supposed to come home before six."

"It's not six yet. Stay here."

Harry had barely stood up and reached for the lamp next to your sofa to serve as a weapon that your boyfriend was entering the room. He heaved a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, man... you scared the shit out of us."

"I left work early to take care of Y/N," Gareth replied, and you turned to him with a smile.

"Hi, babe!" you chimed. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I managed to finish early. Had to take care of my girl, right?"

He finally noticed the guitar in Harry's hand, and clenched his hands into fists.

"How did it go, baby?" he asked, ignoring Harry altogether and walking around him to sit on the sofa next to you.

"Okay... it wasn't too long. The side-effects should be gone by this evening. I actually see a little better already. It was all black before, and now it's all white. I guess it must be a good sign."

"I'm sure it is. And the results?"

"Next Monday. But the doctor told me not to worry, I should be alright."

"That's a relief. You've really had me worried, you know?"

He tugged you against him, and you didn't protest, didn't resist. It was a gesture the two of you had done a thousand times. Harry could see it in the way Gareth knew exactly how to hold you, how to get you comfortable, how you rested against him without thinking, it would seem. And he wondered if you would fit so naturally well in his arms too.

Gareth finally turned to Harry, offering him a polite smile, and your best friend didn't fail to notice the cold nature of the gesture.

"We'll be fine here, don't worry. I'll take care of Y/N now. I'm sure you have more important things to do," your boyfriend said, his tone almost condescending.

Harry's hold on your guitar tightened, and if you hadn't been in his arms now, he would have punched Gareth in the teeth.

"I have nothing planned, I can stay a little longer."

"We'll be fine. Won't we, babe?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, we're alright," you answered, and Harry hoped he wasn't inventing the touch of reluctance he could hear in your tone. "You can go if you want to, Harry. Gareth will help."

"Are you sure? I can stay for a little longer."

"I don't want to bother you."

"Don't be ridiculous, you never bother me."

"It was the deal, that you'd stay until Gareth was home and could look after me for the rest of the day. Thanks for everything. And the song was lovely, it made me feel better."

"Anytime," Harry nodded, his voice weaker than what he had hoped for.

He put back your guitar on its stand, and walked towards the hall, ready to leave.

What else could he do now?

"Text me if anything goes wrong," he told Gareth. "And you, do tell me when you've got your eyesight back, huh?" he added to you.

You gave him a bright grin, your eyes unfocused but turned in his direction.

"Of course I will. Bye, Harry!"

He took one last look at you, at how perfect you looked, how soft and gentle and warm and radiant you were. Then he and Gareth shared one last glare, and he turned towards the front door while your boyfriend held you even closer.

"Bye, Y/N. Take care, yeah?"

*********************************************************

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[sabrinamichele]

Dear you,

I’ve meant to write you, so many times…and yet it hasn’t felt right, until now. I want to write to you, before I meet you, as I feel there’s so much I want you to know. About the girl before, the girl that was, before the woman you will one day meet. Tonight finally feels like a good time to at least start. Because tonight I just learned my last living grandparent, my grandma Mae, passed away today. My heart breaks tonight, not just because she is gone, but because you will never meet her, nor any of the amazing people who were a part of that generation, who helped raise me, helped make me who I am today. My heart aches with all that loss. The love, the life, the laughter…a familiarity so comfortable that there is almost a physical ache in the knowledge that it is forever gone. I hope one day to tell you about each of them, to hopefully give you an idea of who they were, at least to me, even if I know I will never do it fully justice. I think that’s why I want to start writing you now. Full well knowing how it must sound, and how it will look, I’m doing this for you, and I’m doing this for me.

I’ve known for just a little over a week now that my grandma had just about a week left. It wasn’t even that surprising; I have known deep down that this was probably coming— resolved myself to it, told myself all of the rational things, “this happens,” “she’s older,” etc., etc. But even still, hearing it out loud, it hit me…harder than I expected it to. And I knew that I needed to see her. I knew this was important. More than work, or the mundane day-to-day things that seem to matter so much—until they don’t. So I went, and I saw her. Even though her body didn’t seem to be hers anymore, and her mind was no longer serving her as it should, it was still her, and she knew who I was, and that was all that I could ask for. To see her, to say I loved her—and to hear her say it back—it was everything. My heart still aches for my parent and aunt and uncle who have been with her non-stop since this started, and the grief I know that they must be feeling too. Grandma Mae had just turned ninety years old. A small woman, but she had a spark. So much spunk and personality there. They lived humbly, my grandpa Vance and her—but you’d never hear her ever in a negative spirit. She always seemed to have a positive thing to say; usually it was some funny story she would be hearing about this, that or the other. “About whichmajigger” was a pretty common saying, because the name of the person would escape her. Mae and Vance lived on a farm about an hour north of the small town I grew up in, in Oregon, in an even tinier town named Halsey. There were many summers when my younger brother and I would get shipped off to our grandparents for a month (or at least it felt like a month). So many memories: That little ramshackle house, the barn, the feral cats that lived under the house—there were always kittens, which I was always chasing in the hopes of catching one to just love on it, to be inevitably scratched up mercilessly by it, drop it, and the cycle would start all over again. The old white, deep clawfoot bathtub that scratched our bottoms raw from the roughness of the tub. Hundreds of VHS tapes meticulously organized and labeled, three moves to a tape, which we spent hours watching in front of their tv in their living room. The dozens of old clocks, that you would hear in their varying chiming, dings, cuckoos, and even bird calls (yes, bird calls) at the top of every hour. I can remember being very young one night, sleeping in the living room at their farmhouse, waking up and just hearing all of those clocks—their ticking so loud in the dead of night that I just sat there and listened. I remember the stories. Oh the stories they would tell us of us “hoodlum children.” Ha! I don’t actually remember this personally, I must have been too young, but I loved hearing my grandma tell it. Both my grandparents had previous marriages, so there were often times I would come to visit that my grandpa Vance’s other grandchildren would be visiting them as well. I think there must have been four of us, all boys, save for me. My grandparents would often take us to the coast in their trailer, all of us kids sleeping on one small kitchen table, converted into a bed come night. Apparently the boys were “little terrors,” the entire time—or so the story goes, according to Grandma Mae—but, even so, they treated me like, “a little lady.” It still shocks me, thinking about it now (especially knowing how incredibly cold the ocean is off the Oregon Coast), but apparently whenever they would take us to the beach, we wouldn’t be there but five minutes before we were all of us, all four boys and Sabrina, tearing our clothes off and running pell-mell for the ocean to get in. *laughs* I think about that now, and I can’t help but laugh. We must have come out of that water completely sopping wet, sandy, and shivering from the cold—probably a complete mess and utter handful—but all Grandma Mae did was laugh when she told the story. I love thinking about her laughing. I will always remember her that way—happy, and just so easy to be around. And I remember she used to sing. I

wish my memory was better, but I think I remember she used to sing to me at night before I fell asleep. I’ve always thought it was my grandma Mae that got me singing when I was a child. Something that so many people didn’t know I could do for years, because I was so terrified of getting up on a stage in front of people and singing. And even now, it seems to be a secret I have kept, yet again—one that breaks my heart. Oh how I secretly long and wish to sing again. I hope to find a way to do so again. My heart feels so big and full when I do. I hope one day to share it with you.

There are so many memories, and so many more I could share. Thank you for listening to these ones. More than anything, though…I have to admit, I hate that you’re not here. I hate it. Six years—for six years I have been navigating being single and dating, and it’s been gut wrenching. I know it’s weird—talking about it, even just acknowledging it—but I make no apologies for it. I only wish I hadn’t had to experience so much heartbreak. I wish I had already met you. I have been looking for you, this entire time—every time hoping it would be you. I do not know why I wasn’t meant to meet you yet, nor why I still haven’t met you, but I find a small measure of comfort knowing I may not have been ready to (yet). But I am now. I am so ready. With that said, I am sorry you will not ever know the girl I was, before. The strong-willed, headstrong, stubborn, full of life girl that I was. She’s still there, I promise. She still has her moments. Haha! I’m sorry you will not meet a girl with the naïveté of youth, or wanting a romantic, “fairy-tale” wedding. I’m afraid I have already been there, done that, and come out the other end. While I may have lost some of that, the girl who wants to be treated special, like she’s the most important, most beautiful woman in the room—she’s still in there. I still have a romantic heart, that still beats, even after having been broken a few times. I just don’t know how much more I can take, to be perfectly honest. I want to find you, I want it more than I can even say…but I also have to protect this heart of mine. She’s so incredibly tired—of being stomped on, of being passed by, of not being taken care of—that I don’t think I can take it another time. So, I’ve stopped looking. And especially here—Sacramento is the worst, or at least it has been for me. That’s not to say I’ve entirely given up…at least not on the idea of you. The hope of you. That somehow you exist—as hard as that is to imagine, well-meaning people continue to tell me that you do. Here’s the thing: I will not settle. I have not settled. I’m here, living my best life, waiting for you to join me in it. I hope that you will. But even if you don’t? I will just keep on living my dreams out—with every adventure, every trip…I just sometimes wish I could have you in my life to share all of them with you. I want that so bad. I hope that one day we can share all of the stories, all of the adventures in life that led to us finally meeting. I also hope that you don’t let the strong woman you meet one day intimidate you too much; at least not enough to not approach me. I hope that you do. I hope you make the first move. I hope you aren’t afraid to ask me on a date, and the next date, and the next. I hope that, no matter when you meet me, you pursue me. And I hope you don’t ever let me go.

Until that day, I know I am going to keep loving the hell out of me, wishing you were here, but continuing on—the strong, resilient, independent woman that I am. I have so much more that I could say, but I think that’s probably enough for tonight.

So with that I will say goodnight.

Love, me.

[nialledfromfics]

The Dating Game | Chapter Three

~~

He couldn’t get her off his mind. Her infectiously bright smile, the sparkle in her hazelnut eyes every time they locked on his. The way her hair smelled like the sweetest apples ever grown. Her soft giggle, which played over and over in his head like a never ending carousel. They way his body nearly melted any time she got close to him. He barely knew this girl, but he just could not get her off his mind. 

Niall woke up early that Sunday morning after the festival so he could sneak in a small workout. But his concentration wasn’t on his squats or the thirty minutes of treadmill time he was required to do. No, it was stuck on her. On her voice, her hair, her lips, her skin. Every part of her made an aching warmth fill his belly, and his heart race like a goddamn horse in his chest. He hadn’t felt that way about someone in a long time, longer than he could remember. And he had no idea how she felt about him, or if she even thought about him at all, but he was determined to keep this girl, this girl he barely knew, in his life. Somehow.

Wiping the sweat from his browline with a small towel, Niall stepped off the treadmill and chugged back some water. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his shorts and switched off the music that had been playing through his earbuds before opening up his texts. His thumbs idled over the screen, almost like he was too nervous and didn’t know what to say and for Niall, that was something very new. He was usually a pretty confident person and had been so used to networking and meeting loads of people over the past ten years of his career, that talking to others always came easy to him. He was incredibly personable. So, sending a simple text to a girl normally wouldn’t stump him up. Normally. 

Niall ran his finger over his bottom lip in precarious thought, nervously scratching his nails though the side of his beard before he decided to just bite the bullet and...hit send.

Hey Joey , it’s Niall. Just wanted to see how your date went last night. no puke I hope .

The text sent and Niall stood there in the middle of the gym, staring down at his phone like an idiot. Was he waiting for those tiny little bubbles to pop up? He wasn’t sure but he knew he wasn’t moving a muscle until he was positive she had seen it. 

Joey, on the other hand, giggled like a giddy teenager as Alexis jumped up off the sofa and came bounding over to where her friend was standing. “Lemme seeee,” she whined, “what’d he say?” 

“He writes like one of the kids in my class,” Joey playfully teased, Alexis gasping and swatting the side of her arm.

“Be nice.” 

Joey smiled. “I’m only kidding. It’s cute actually.” 

Hooking her hand on her hip, Alexis urged Joey on. “Joey, c’mon, text back. You have to text back.”

“Relax,” she replied, looking over at her best friend, “I am. I’m just...figuring out what I should say.” 

Nipping at the inside corner of her mouth, Joey thought for a minute before sending a text back to him. 

Hi Niall! Date was okay, no puke, thank God. How was your night?

It wasn’t but a few seconds before another text from Niall had popped up onto Joey’s screen. 

N: We had a good Time. it was nice seeing ya . like talking to you .

Slowly flicking her eyes to her best friend as they both read over the text, Alexis tossed her hands up to her mouth to hold in her squeal. She was always a bit over dramatic. Joey smiled and sent him another text. 

J: It was nice seeing you too.

N: I’ve asked my agent and manager about gettin you those tickets . . they’re looking around to see what they can find . It shouldnt be too hard though

J: Oh wow, that’s awesome, Niall, I really appreciate it!

N: No problem , Joey , really. I’ll definitely let ya know when I get me hands on some.

Joey bounced happily on the balls of her feet. “This is too much, you think he’s gonna ask you out?” Alexis said. 

“Shhh…”

J: You are a Godsend, honestly. The best person I have ever met in probably forever. 

“Wow, Jo, way to inflate his ego.” 

Joey rolled her eyes at her best friend’s sarcastic comment, dropping her hands in a huff. “Shut up, he’s not like that. I’m just being nice, like you said.” She smiled big at Alexis and raised her brows.

N: Hahahahaha 😂

J: You think I’m kidding, Niall, but I’m serious lol 

N: Well . . . I can say the same about you .

J: Now you’re just trying to charm me, aren’t you? 

N: eh Maybe 😉

Running his tongue over his lips, Niall fought off the smirk that wanted to invade them as he softly chuckled to himself. He switched his music app back on, sticking his phone into the pocket of his jogger shorts and hopped back onto the treadmill, now having the focus to finish his morning workout. 

•

The texts left a blissful smile on Joey’s face that lasted for the next few days. She’d find herself thinking about them, about him, as she was applying her makeup in the bathroom mirror each morning, or drowning out the sound of her shoes on the sidewalk every time she took Sadie for a walk. Or while reading the children their weekly storybook, and fixing herself dinner every night. Her mind was so preoccupied with the fleeting, and foolish, thoughts of Niall, that she had almost forgotten about her date that coming Thursday. 

Joey would normally not agree to a date on a weekday given that she had to be at work early the next morning, but the guy she was meeting up with, Felix, was very adamant on seeing the premiere of some sci-fi movie that Joey, frankly, had zero interest in. But she decided that she should just suck it up and file it right into another one of her ‘experience’ folders. It was just a movie, right? She could live through it? 

Felix wasn’t the usual type of guy that Joey would go for. He had long unruly hair, seemed a bit unkempt in his general appearance and from what he mentioned, wasn’t very goal oriented; he was in between jobs at the moment but taking his time trying to figure out what he really wanted to do. He was a slacker by all definitions. But he was really sweet in their conversations back and forth, insisting on taking her out, and she thought that there would be no harm in going on a date with him. She didn’t get home from work until a bit after 4pm that Thursday night, and made sure to hop in the shower first thing. After blow drying her long red hair, Joey slipped on a pair of ankle length jeans and a black fitted top, Sadie already jumping at her legs to be pet. 

She let out a sigh and bent over to squish the little dog's face, giving her a sweet kiss on the top of her head. “You’re the only one I really need in my life, Sadie girl.” 

Joey was to meet Felix at the theater complex around 6:30 as the movie was to start at 7pm. Standing outside the front of the theater, Joey watched as people went in and out of the doors, and it was nearing 6:45 by the time a car had pulled up right in front of her. The passenger door swung open and a guy wearing ripped jeans and a raggedy worn old t-shirt, and matching the pictures she had seen on his profile, stepped out. He waved to the person driving, an elderly looking lady, as he slammed the car door shut and stepped over to Joey. 

“Hey, I’m Felix.” 

The young woman smiled politely. “Hi, I’m Joey.”

They shook hands, Joey fumbling with keeping the strap of her bag hooked on her shoulder as Felix peered up at the large marquee sign above the entrance. “Sorry for being late, I had to wait for my grandma to get done making my grandpa his dinner.” 

Her lips parted briefly and Joey pointed a finger at where the car had come to a stop. “That was...your grandmother?”

Felix nodded. “Yeah...I live in their basement. And I don’t really have a car right now, so she drives me.” Joey stayed quiet. “Should we go in?”

•

Joey was right about the movie, absolutely zero interest. And she had just about as much interest in Felix. That had to have been the longest, and most boring, two hours of her life. She was not just bored out of her mind, she was also well beyond annoyed. Not only could Felix not hold a conversation to save his life, but he dropped their only bag of popcorn into Joey’s lap when he got up to use the restroom and he also completely misread a polite lean in halfway through the movie to quietly inquire about a character and tried to unexpectedly kiss her. Totally unprovoked and very much unwanted. It did not go over well. 

Walking out through the theater doors in a huff, the night air hit with a gust and Joey felt like she could finally breathe again. She quickly yanked her phone out of her bag and, without saying a word to her date, requested a Lyft home. The driver was only three minutes out. Felix followed behind as she stepped closer to the street and paused to stand right next to her. “Thanks for paying, I really can’t believe I left my wallet at home.” 

Joey rolled her eyes, checking on how close her ride was. “No worries,” she told him with a forced smile. “It happens.”

He ran his hand through the front of his hair and chewed on the corner of his lip. Joey’s Lyft pulled up and she looked over at Felix. “Um...I guess I should go-”

“Hey do you maybe wanna go get something to eat? Nothing too fancy since you’ll be paying and all.” He laughed, as if what he was saying was an actual joke. It wasn’t.

Furrowing her brows, she just stared at him and shook her head. “No, thanks I’m-”

A text message coming through her phone interrupted her, the device vibrating in her hand. Joey glanced down and clicked open her messages. 

N: Hey Joey. . I know this is last minute , but I just got u some tickets to a Wildflowers show at the Echo on Sunset that starts in about an hour . u down?

Her heart nearly beat out of her chest as she read over the text Niall had sent and she quickly sent him one back. 

J: Holy shit, yes!! I can totally meet you there in 20?

N: yeah sure . see ya There

Clamping her teeth on her bottom lip to hold in her ever growing smile, she looked up at Felix. “Sorry, I gotta go,” she said, clambering into the backseat of her ride, “thanks for-...uh, yeah, have a good night!” She slammed the door shut and told the driver where she needed to go, the car pulling away and leaving Felix there alone to wait for his grandma.

•

The ride to the venue was one filled with giddiness and a tinge of nerves. Joey had no idea why she was nervous; seeing her favorite band live for the first time, maybe seeing Niall again, she really wasn’t sure, but she did know she was beyond excited. Coming to a stop out front of the club, Joey could see Niall already standing there waiting for her. He was wearing fitted trousers, a vintage t-shirt and a jean jacket. His hands were stuffed down in his pockets, his hair gently tousled to the side and he quietly watched people shuffling into the venue as Joey’s eyes stuck to him like there was no one else around. He looked incredible. 

Climbing out of the vehicle, Joey thanked her driver and it was then that Niall finally saw her. The smile on her face was brighter than he had ever seen before, her light brown eyes sparkling in the neon lights that laced the street above them and for a moment, as his stare locked on hers, he could have sworn that everyone else around them had vanished. His heart picked up its pace as she walked towards him, flicking her long red hair over her shoulder and before he could even register what was happening, Niall found Joey crashing her body against his in a hug. 

She wasn’t even thinking. She saw him standing there waiting for her, his cheeks rounding in a huge smile that caused the cutest dimple to crease his skin and for a split second, Joey lost all control over herself. Her breath caught in her throat the second her body touched his; her arms curling around his neck so tight like she was a drowning victim who needed rescuing and Niall barely hesitated before his arms wrapped around her middle. Closing her eyes as she inhaled along with him, she felt his splayed hand gently rub just a fraction across the span of her upper back before Joey clumsily cleared her throat and pulled away. 

An awkward giggle left her lips but Niall just smiled even bigger at her. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she replied, biting her lip as she took a tiny step back and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “You actually kinda saved me.” 

Niall’s brows wrinkled. “Yeah? How’s that?” 

Flicking her stare off of his, Joey dropped her chin down. “Well, I was on another date, a really shitty date actually and you texted me and-…” she peered back up at him, “you just have impeccable timing.” 

He laughed, his head tossing back a bit. “I’m glad I could save ya from another disaster.” 

“Me too.” 

Licking across his lips, Niall found himself locked in her gaze for a moment, unintentional but not surprising before he realized why he was there meeting her in the first place. He shook his head out of his daydream. “Oh…” he mumbled, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out two ticket stubs. “Here, these are for you.” 

Joey glanced down at the tickets held out towards her and she stared at them for a second, a slight disbelief coming over her. He really did it. He really got them for her. She gently grabbed the tickets and looked back up at him. “I can’t believe I’m really holding Wildflower tickets,” she giggled, not even bothering to fight the huge smile on her face, “it’s like a dream!” 

Niall chuckled, lowering his head as he carded his fingers through his hair. “Well, I hope ya have a good time.” 

“Wait…” Joey tipped her head to the side, her brows cinching in, “you’re not coming in with me?”

Locking his gaze on hers, Niall’s mouth gently parted. “Did...did ya want me to come in with you?” he asked, his brows raising. 

“Well...yeah,” Joey scoffed, “I-...I mean, I was hoping you would, if you don’t, like, have other plans. I wouldn’t even have these tickets if it weren’t for you.” 

Niall darted his stare with hers, Joey softly biting down into her bottom lip as she waited for his answer and he gave her a faint nod, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Okay...yeah, I’d love to.” 

“Yay!” she squealed, causing a chuckle from Niall. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” Handing him one of the tickets back, Joey stepped past Niall to lead the way into the venue and he followed behind her, staying as close as he possibly could. 

•

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was the prettiest, most alluring woman he had ever seen and the way she let go to the music, the way she felt it, singing along and smiling and laughing, it was all so...captivating. Her eyes gleamed every time he caught a glimpse of them, her body moving like a dandelion seed in the wind; effortless and free. She was beautiful. 

Joey did not stop smiling the entire night. Happiness seemed to come naturally to her, it lit her up from the inside and was nearly infectious. So much so, that Niall, keeping his stare on her as much as he could, found himself smiling right along with her. There was something about her that he liked, really liked, almost admired and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But he enjoyed being around her. More than he had enjoyed being around anyone in a long time. 

The concert ended a bit before midnight, and Niall and Joey filed out of the venue along with the other concert goers. Stopping right out front, Joey eased her eyes up to Niall’s as she faced him. Taking in a deep breath, they both stood quiet for a moment before a few giggles broke the silence. Joey tipped her head down in shyness before peering back up at Niall. 

As his eyes fawned over her face, soaking in the beauty of the delicate slope of her nose and the fullness of her bare lips, he slowly reached out to her. Joey’s breath stalled. “May I?” he whispered. She nodded, unsure of what she was consenting to as Niall moved his hand closer and lightly brushed a few strands of her red hair from off her cheek to tuck behind her ear. 

Her lips gently parted and her eyes fluttered as the warmth of his skin touched hers and Niall froze just as his fingertip slipped down the shell of her ear. Swallowing hard, he flicked his stare over hers before quickly retracting his hand, hastily shoving it into the front pocket of his pants. Joey smirked at his nervous reaction. “Thank you so much for the tickets,” she softly spoke up after clearing her throat, “I feel like I should repay you but...I don’t even know where to begin.” 

“No, no...please,” Niall said, shaking his head as he attempted to run his hand through his dark hair, “no need, really. As long as you had a good time, that’s all

that matters.” 

She smiled at him again. “I did...thank you.” Letting out a short sigh, Joey peeked over her shoulder at the traffic buzzing past their intersection and grabbed her phone from her back pocket. “I guess I should be getting home.” 

Niall watched her click into her phone and start to scroll through. “Did you drive here?” 

“No,” Joey replied, catching his stare, “but it’s fine, I’ll just get a Lyft or something.” 

“I, uh...I’m only parked a couple blocks up,” he mentioned, pointing up the street from them,”if you don’t mind walkin’ a bit, I can take ya home.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

A soft grin spread over her lips. “Okay, thank you.”  

They began to walk in the direction of where Niall’s car was parked, not stressing on time or needing something to chat about. There was no rush, there was no pressure and Joey slowly kept pace with Niall, their shoulders bumping every so often. It was a clear night out, a soft breeze kissing their skin as the bright lights from the storefronts and the blazing of car horns in the distance seemed to drown out between their harmonious giggles and easy flowing small talk. 

“By the way, that show was fucking amazing,” Joey commented.

“You enjoyed it?”

“Enjoyed it?” she laughed, “Niall, this was definitely one of the best nights of my life in, like,...forever. It was like a fucking dream.” 

Niall’s head tipped back in a laugh, his hand perching on the front of his stomach. “Good,” he managed to stutter out, looking back over at her, “I’m glad you had a great time.” 

She brushed some hair from her face and smiled at him. “The best time.”

“Better than your date earlier?” he asked, raising a brow.

Joey playfully narrowed her stare. “What, are you keeping score?” 

“No, no...just curious.” 

The young woman tilted her head down in a bashful smile before she peered back over at him. “A hundred times better than my date earlier.” 

Giving her a nod, he raised his hand up and motioned a checkmark symbol into the air. “One check for me.” 

Not being able to hold in her laugh, Joey pinched her eyes shut as the sweet sound left her lips and leaned her face over to rest against the peak of his shoulder. Niall slowed his steps as he flicked his eyes down, seeing just the top of her head. She quickly looked up at him, a smile still tugging at her mouth. “You are too funny.” 

“I try,” he shrugged with a half smirk.

“Hey, out of my own curiosity,” Joey started, crossing her arms over her chest as they continued walking, “do you think you’d ever...join one of those dating apps?”

His brows furrowed. “Tinder?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh...fuck, no,” he scoffed, his bluntness causing Joey to cover her mouth in a giggle. Niall’s eyes went big as he caught what he had said and looked over at her, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I...I don’t mean that in a bad way, Joey, ya know, more power to ya and all, but, it’s just…with what I do, with who I am, I can barely trust the people I already know in me real life. No way I could trust some random strangers I met off if an app.” 

Nodding her head, Joey dropped her stare. “Yeah, I mean, I obviously don’t do what you do, so I can’t really even begin to know what that’s like, but...I do understand what you mean about trusting people.” 

Her tone had softened with that last bit and Niall instantly took notice. He licked across his lips as his eyes tried to read her face. “You have a hard time trustin’ people too?” he asked her.

Joey nodded and caught Niall’s gaze once more. “I didn’t before,” she began to explain, “you know, I was probably the most trusting person you’d ever meet, which...was probably a fault in the end. But my ex, Jake-...he was...not the greatest person. He was manipulating and controlling and just not a nice guy, and I wasted three years of my life on him. Even when I knew that I shouldn’t have.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 

“We broke up, like, two years ago, and it’s taken me that long to even think about trusting anyone again,” she lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “It’s pretty much why I haven’t started to date again until now.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. I dunno, though, I just think datin’ is...too time consumin’, ya know?” Niall said with a short laugh, holding out his hands as he looked over at Joey, “I mean, gettin’ to know someone should feel more...organic, it should come easy and not feel so...forced. I dunno.” With a little shrug, he peeked down at the toes of his shoes, “Like I said, I don’t date much. I love the actual relationship part, that’s nice, ya know, bein’ with someone, havin’ all those experiences with ‘em, but the whole...meetin’ someone for the first time and goin’ out and gettin’ to know the person...fuckin’ hell.” 

He shifted his blue eyes over and locked his stare on Joey’s. “Kinda wish you could just...skip all that.” 

A smile pulled at her lips and she pushed out a tiny giggle. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

“It’s not like I never dated anyone or anythin’,” Niall went on, “Me last girlfriend...she was a great girl, don’t get me wrong, we were together for nearly a year but...it got to a point that I just wasn’t feelin’ it anymore and I had to end it. I felt horrible, ya know, ‘cause I did love her in a way, but...it just wasn’t right anymore, somethin’ wasn’t right.” 

There was a fraction of quiet that wafted between them as Niall’s words left his lips before Joey spoke up. “Well...at least you didn’t lead her on for years to the point that she was expecting you to propose or some shit.” 

“Oh…God,” Niall threw his head back with a loud groan, running his palms over the front of his face. “I can’t even think about that at this point in me life.” 

Joey giggled again. “I’m now picturing myself married to that guy from tonight and...wow, complete shitshow.” 

They both bowed over in laughter. “At least you can admit it.” 

“That’s the first step, Niall.”

After a few more laughs and about half a block, they finally reached Niall’s car. Yanking the keys from his pocket, Niall unlocked it before stepping over to the passenger side door to kindly open it for Joey. 

Her brows raised at the chivalrous gesture and she peered at him as she climbed in and settled into the seat. “Still trying to charm me?”

“Absolutely.” 

With a lopsided smirk, he gave her a playful wink and closed her door. 

Joey lived in Toluca Lake, which was about a thirty five minute drive through Hollywood from the concert venue. Not really unheard of for LA, but still out of the way from where Niall had mentioned that he lived. They had to literally pass his house on the way. If Joey had known that, she definitely would have insisted on getting a Lyft instead, the last thing she wanted to be was a bother. 

Despite the extra time in the car for Niall, he rather enjoyed the aspect of driving Joey home. It gave him more time to get to know her, to talk to her. To hear her voice and her laugh and see her smile. Joey was even more enthralled with Niall. Hearing him go on and on about his music and his many passions, seeing the way his face lit up with the mention of his favorite bands and athletes. The deep tone of his voice was so rousing, his accent so sexy, it sent shivers down Joey’s spine with every mention of her name. The way his stare stayed focused on the road ahead, his big hand perched up on the steering wheel as his thumb gently tapped along with the low hum of the music that was playing on the radio. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. 

Pulling up to the front of Joey’s apartment building, Niall stopped the car and put it in park. Joey turned her head to stare up at the modest brick-front building, and scraped her teeth along her bottom lip. She almost didn’t want to get out of the car. Looking back over at Niall, she smiled. “I had a really great time, Niall, it was nice hanging out with you. No...weird expectations, ya know?

He nodded, dropping his hand into his lap. “Yeah, I had a good time.” 

“Thank you again for the tickets, seriously,” she said, “It was one of the best shows I’ve ever been to.” 

“I was actually pleasantly surprised, to be honest, I had never seen them live before.” 

“Now you know why I love them so much.”

They both let out soft chuckles and Joey peeked down into her lap. “Hey, um…” Niall began, causing Joey to flick her gaze back to his, “would it be weird if I, like, texted you some time? Just to, like, chat or whatever. I quite like talkin’ to ya.” 

Joey tucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “I like talking to you too, that’d be great. I’d like that.” 

“Cool,” Niall said, carding his fingers through his hair, “Maybe we can, um, go get some coffee or somethin’ this weekend, if you’re free or whatever.” 

“Yeah, sure, that’d be fun,” she replied with a nod, reaching down to unhook her seatbelt. 

Niall smiled. “Alright, well...I’ll text ya then. Have a good night, Joey.” 

Opening her door, Joey stepped out of the car. “You have a good night too, Niall,” she said with a sweet smile before giving him a wave and shutting the door. 

Niall watched with hooded eyes as she walked up to her building's door and put in the code, Joey sweeping her hair to rest over her one shoulder as she disappeared inside. Sitting there for a moment, Niall let his eyes fall closed and tipped his head back on the seat, a long and heartfelt sigh sliding past his parted lips

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】Tears of Themis: Main Story 5-39 Translation

Translated parts: Chapter 5 – Sounds of Falling Snow (Part 1, 2, 3): 5-1 / 5-3 / 5-5 / 5-7 / 5-9 / 5-11 / 5-13 ♦️ ♦️  5-14 / 5-16 / 5-18 / 5-20 / 5-22 / 5-24 / 5-26 / 5-28 ♦️ ♦️ 5-29 / 5-31 / 5-33 / 5-35 / 5-37 / 5-39 / 5-40 / 5-42 / 5-43 Translation Masterlist: here

Video: (48:41) https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV15a4y1j7CW?

Stellis City Police Station

Having heard Wang Han’s confessions, as well as Qiu Heng’s, I finally learned the truth of the matter.

I had already thought about the appearance of their plot:

Such as, in a dark room, with only one incandescent light on…

Wang Han and Qiu Heng were holding a map of the winding mountain highway and the car’s structural blueprint, comparing them.

They discussed the timing to change the brake pedals and calculated the hallucinogen dose.

They meticulously planned every detail, ensuring that Kong Moli would be completely unaware of the accident, planning to pretend that it was a completely normal accidental car crash.

But the truth was more ironic than I had thought.

--

[Flashback]

Outside Wang Han’s house door

September 12, 2029, 1:00PM.

Wang Han: Reporter Kong, look, the paper mill paid money. For Heirson’s lawsuit, how about you…

Wang Han: How about just leaving this matter behind.

Kong Moli: Village Head, it is true that the paper mill polluted, but this doesn’t mean that Heirson has no problems.

Kong Moli: I’m not only appealing just for myself. Think about it, if Heirson continues to pollute the Rainbow River water, then what can the villagers do?

Kong Moli: Not only can they continue to farm the Rainbow heart fish, but everyone’s health will also be impacted.

Wang Han: But you have no proof to appeal.

Kong Moli: Don’t worry, I already got in contact with a professional biological laboratory. I’ll send the few Rainbow heart fish that Grandpa Sun has to them for examination.

Kong Moli: We’ll know exactly what negative effects from the pollution caused the Rainbow heart fish’s mutations when the results come out.

Kong Moli: I hope we can make it in time. I heard Grandpa Sun say that he feared that those fish won’t be able live for a few more days.

Kong Moli: You are also too anxious. Why did you destroy all the polluted fish right when the paper mill paid the compensation, ah…

Wang Han: Wasn’t this required by the Food Safety Department, to prevent poisoned, dangerous Rainbow heart fish from getting into the market…

Suddenly, a car alarm sound came from Wang Han’s house yard.

Kong Moli: Eh? Why does it sound like my car?

Wang Han looked once in his house’s yard and could faintly see that beside Kong Moli’s car, there was someone’s shadow.

Wang Han: Maybe a wild cat bumped into it, nothing major.

Wang Han: It’s hard to drive down the little road to Sun Heping’s house. You can just leave your car at my house, and after you’re finished working, you can come back and get it.

Kong Moli: That’s fine. Many thanks, Village Head.

Kong Moli: I’ll go to Zhao Yuncui’s house first and give her daughter’s handmade gift to her.

Wang Han: Zhao Yuncui and her husband are out of the village today; they should have gone to the city to see their daughter. Only the grandma is at her house.

Wang Han: You really are kindhearted – you already know that she has a certain way of looking at you, yet you go out of your way to help her.

Kong Moli: She’s not a simple person. I won’t split hairs with her.

Kong Moli: As long as there’s someone home, it’s fine; it’ll be easy for me to drop things off.

Kong Moli: Then I’ll head off first, Village Head.

Wang Han: Sure, sure, sure…

--

Wang Han: You only know how to make your dumb news. This old man’s road to fortune was almost snapped off by you.

Seeing that Kong Moli had walked far into the background, Wang Han hatefully cursed out, spitting towards the ground.

Wang Han: This won’t do. This old man must think of a way to have you shut up.

Wang Han’s yard

After Kong Moli left, Wang Han returned to his house’s yard.

He walked around Kong Moli’s SUV once and didn’t notice anyone.

He saw that Kong Moli’s driver’s seat window was open, but it didn’t seem like there were any indicators of someone breaking it.

The rearview mirror was hanging intact. The cupholder’s car thermos was also sitting there properly.

Wang Han: Tch, didn’t even look when parking. The car window’s not even closed.

Wang Han whispered a few more words and turned around to enter the house. He walked a bit, then stopped his footsteps.

He turned back, looking in the yard at Kong Moli’s SUV that was identical to his own family’s, and revealed a sinister smile that would make one tremble from fear.

Seeming like he’d thought clearly about something, Wang Han returned to his house and grabbed the toolbox, carried over the jack, and got busy between the two SUVs.

At Wang Han’s house, from top to bottom, only he was home at that moment.

But at the side of the yard, outside the wall of plants, there was a pair of eyes secretly watching, taking in the whole scene of Wang Han’s actions.

Wang Han’s yard

September 12, 2029, 4:00PM.

Kong Moli returned to Wang Han’s house, her demeanor thoroughly exhausted.

Wang Han: Reporter Kong, you’ve returned.

Wang Han looked Kong Moli up and down, then looked behind her.

Wang Han: Didn’t you say you went to get fish? Why aren’t there any?

Kong Moli: Grandpa Sun’s house had a theft. When I went, he had already left for the police station to make a record, so I didn’t see him.

Wang Han: A theft?

Kong Moli: Not exactly. No idea how a thief would aim for his house.

Wang Han: Where he lives, it’s slanted – the villagers don’t go frequently. The quiet places in the back attract thieves the most easily.

Wang Han: Did you also go to Zhao Yuncui’s house?

Kong Moli: I did go. Zhao Yuncui’s grandma dragged me into discussion for nearly an hour.

Kong Moli: If not for this, I might have been able to help Grandpa Sun catch the thief.

Wang Han: It’s not easy for you to make this trip – how about you wait a little more?

Kong Moli: I’ve already waited the whole afternoon in his house’s yard. I still have matters to attend to in the evening – I must return to the city.

Kong Moli: I’ll come again tomorrow.

Wang Han: You really have worked hard, Reporter Kong. Then be careful on the road and drive slowly.

Kong Moli nodded, opened the car door, and got in the car.

She first lifted the thermos to drink a few mouthfuls of water, then started the car to leave.

Wang Han sent Kong Moli off, and returned to his house, humming a small tune.

Wang Han: What is this?

Where Kong Moli’s car had originally been parked, Wang Han saw a little glass bottle.

Connecting it with the curious coincidence of the shadow of the person earlier, Wang Han picked up the glass bottle…

[Flashback end]

--

Wang Han: Why didn’t I think of it at that time – the shadow belonged to Qiu Heng.

Wang Han: Reporter Kong’s trial was open to the public. I saw it online. I recognized Qiu Heng.

Wang Han: I’ve still kept that glass bottle that I picked up. Reporter Kong’s car window wasn’t closed, and there was a water cup in the car. Most likely, he gave Reporter Kong drugs!

Wang Han: Qiu Heng’s fingerprints definitely can still be found on that glass bottle!

Wang Han: Plus, there was still some liquid inside, at the bottom of the bottle. I’ll get my wife to send it over and give it to you for chemical analysis!

Wang Han put his utmost effort in accusing Qiu Heng. The interrogation room’s door was suddenly opened.

Qiu Heng rushed in. If there wasn’t glass blocking him, he might have rushed over and grabbed Wang Han’s neck.

Qiu Heng: You’re talking nonsense! I personally saw you change Kong Moli’s brake pedals!

Qiu Heng: The police also said that Kong Moli got into the car crash because the brakes lost control. The murderer is you!

Wang Han: You’re spouting utter rubbish! When she slammed on the guardrails, she hadn’t died yet!

Wang Han: If not for you giving her drugs, would she have dizzily stumbled off the mountain cliff?!

Wang Han: An SUV has many brake pedals. Changing just one won’t kill someone!

Wang Han: I just wanted to scare her a little. I didn’t want to kill her!

Qiu Heng: My hallucinogens take effect so quickly that normally, she should’ve been asleep before she got out the village. How could she have stumbled off the mountain cliff!

I had heard enough of their argument, and left the meeting room.

Stellis City Police Station

MC: Leader Yan, I’ll have to trouble you with the remaining matters.

Yan Wei: No need to be courteous. Criminal investigation procedures are supposed be for us to complete to begin with. 

Yan Wei: When this case’s open court time is established, I will get in touch with you.

MC: Okay, then I’ll leave first.

I could already confirm that Kong Moli’s car crash was a criminal case of intentional murder.

For the follow-up trial process, there would naturally be the police and the Public Prosecution to deal with it.

Now, I only felt that I was exhausted in both mind and body. I just wanted to hurry home, take a hot-water shower, and sleep.

I stood up, walked towards the office door, when a rush of vertigo fell on me.

All I saw was pitch-black in front of my eyes. My body tipped forward…

But unexpectedly, I fell into a warm embrace…

Zuo Ran: What happened to you!

Ah… it seems like it’s Zuo Ran.

If he’s here, I probably don’t need to worry…

[fairyqueenofthedragons]

Key to Knowledge

Fablekingdom chapter 3

Glad you all seem to like the story :D I'm having fun writing it. Sorry for the slight delay, life happens. Finals are coming up and I have a bunch of projects so I might be a bit slow on updates for the next few weeks.

(Find Chapter One with a server of “Fk ch 1″)

Come chat with me on discord: https://discord.gg/nwwcSQSUjh

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Breakfast the next morning was good. Lena had called it “cream of wheat”, mixed with berries and homemade raspberry preserves. There was also toast and butter, and orange juice.

Seth had his tongue poking out as he angled his butter knife to bounce sun rays in Kendra’s eyes. She was not close enough to the window to retaliate, so she settled for kicking his foot.

“Don’t blind your sister, Seth,” Grandpa said.

Seth put his butter knife down with a sigh, turning to Grandpa, “Where’s Dale?”

Kendra wondered the same thing, she hadn’t seen him today, was he still asleep? It was almost nine.

“Dale and I got up a few hours ago, finished most of the morning chores. He’s still out working, I’m just here to keep you company since it’s your first morning.”

“Will you guys be back for lunch?” Kendra asked.

“No, today I’m going to the North fields, I’ll be bringing lunch with me.” He studied the wall above them, looking uncomfortable. “I’ll likely be back for dinner.”

“Oh...” Kendra murmured, nibbling on some toast. She supposed he hadn’t particularly wanted them here anyways. He wasn’t required to spend all his time with them.

“You kids remember my rules?” Grandpa asked.

Seth nodded, shoving some cream of wheat in his mouth, “This is good.”

“Stay out of the woods and the barn,” Kendra answered her Grandpa. “And keep things neat and try not to break anything.”

“Good girl,” Grandpa said with a small smile. “There’s a swimming pool out back, it’s all set up so feel free to swim in it. If you don’t feel like swimming there are gardens as well, plus the yard as a whole to run around in. You might even find some surprises if you look around.”

He stood, folding his napkin.

“You’re also welcome to play in your room. Any questions?”

Kendra nodded, “When is Grandma coming back?”

Grandpa faltered, gaze darting to the clock.

“That depends on your Aunt Edna. If she recovers quickly than Ruth could be back next week, or it could be a couple of months.”

“Good thing Grandma’s not sick anymore,” Seth said, putting some jam on his toast.

“Sick?” Grandpa asked.

“You know,” Kendra said with a frown. “The illness that kept her from the funeral.”

“Oh yes,” He nodded. “That one. Well, she was still a little under the weather when she left but was feeling much better.”

“I’m sad we missed her,” Kendra said.

“Yeah, we haven’t seen her in years,” Seth added.

“She was sorry to miss you too,” Grandpa assured them as he pushed his chair in. “I’d best be off. Don’t forget sunblock if you swim and keep your video games inside.”

“Yes Grandpa,” Seth said.

“We’ll be good,” Kendra promised.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Kendra was dressed in her blue swimsuit, a towel over one shoulder, as she stepped onto the back porch. She had a water bottle under one arm and a very pretty handheld mirror she’d found in the nightstand by her bed in her hand.

She paused to admire the gardens that covered a good portion of the backyard. There were paths of white stones meandering through the flower beds and hedgerows. She could see the edge of a vegetable patch peeking out behind some hedges to the right of her, and some dry fountains over there too.

Just in front of the porch seemed to be an herb garden and around the pool were more flower beds and a ring of fruit trees. She didn’t recognize all the fruit there, only the two apple trees and cherry tree. Maybe that one was a peach tree?

She wondered if it was okay for them to eat any of them.

The flowers were really beautiful though, Kendra had never seen such brilliant blossoms.

Seth was already swimming, throwing some sinking toys and diving after them.

The pool looked really cool, with a black bottom and rocks surrounding it you could almost mistake it for a pond.

Kendra grinned and headed down the steps, following the short path to the pool side.

The garden around her was filled with birds and insects.

There were quick moving hummingbirds, wings nearly invisible as they moved from flower to flower.

Huge bumblebees buzzed around, two coming very close to her. She stilled for a moment, remembering the rule her dad taught her. As long as you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. They drifted past.

Kendra paused again as two butterflies alighted on some flowers by her, wings brilliant hues of blue and red. She’d never seen such brilliant butterflies. Then again, she’d never visited a garden this incredible either, it’s no wonder Grandpa Sorenson had so many chores.

“Beautiful,” she murmured.

The butterflies fluttered back up, flying around her for a moment before drifting away.

“Wow,” she whispered as she arrived at the pool. This really was an amazing backyard.

The poolside was paved, with some recliners and a circular glass table with a big umbrella in the center.

Seth climbed out of the pool as she arrived, waving as he leapt from a stone outcropping with a whoop. He hit the water with a big splash.

Kendra set her towel and mirror on the table and grabbed a bottle of sunblock. She took a few minutes to smear it on her skin, rubbing it in until it disappeared.

While Seth dove under water for another one of the sinking toys, Kendra picked up the mirror, carefully angling it so it reflected the sunlight. When Seth came up she aimed a big splotch of sunlight right in his eyes.

“Hey!”

Seth ducked back under water, coming back up in another spot. Kendra pointed the light right back at him.

“Cut it out!” Seth called.

“But I thought you liked playing with sunlight,” Kendra said.

Seth turned to glare but had to look away with the light in his eyes.

“I only did it a little! And Grandpa already told me to stop.”

Because that always stops him from doing something, but Kendra put the mirror down anyways.

“Don’t try to blind me again,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, swimming over to the side of the pool.

“How’s the water?” Kendra asked, walking over to the edge.

Seth grinned, and shoved the water forward to splash her.

She shrieked, surprised by the cold, before her eyes narrowed and she leapt over him into the water.

It took a moment to adjust to the temperature but then she quickly swam away from Seth, ducking under the water to avoid his splashing.

It ended in a splash fight, Seth swinging his arms in wide arcs and doing big but weak splashes. Kendra pushed to water in focused waves, hitting Seth head on more, though he dodged more than she did.

She ducked under water after a few minutes, when the fight was slowing, yanking Seth under water.

The fight began anew, Seth and her wrestling in the water until they were both tired.

“I definitely won,” Seth said.

Kendra rolled her eyes.

The two of them played some games with the sinking toys, racing for them and seeing who could get the most. Then they tried different dives into the deep end.

Kendra was the best at the clean dives, making only a small splash. Seth was great at doing big splashes though.

Kendra grew bored after a bit, getting out of the pool to rest on the edge.

Seth had her judge his dives.

“Watch this can opener!” He yelled as he jumped with one leg straight and the other bent.

“Eight and a half,” Kendra called back when he surfaced.

“That was definitely a nine,” he said as he swam back to the edge to jump again.

“You bent your leg when you hit the water,” she countered.

“Oh, come on!”

Kendra grinned, standing to grab her towel, but stopped when she saw the mirror.

Hummingbirds, bumblebees, and butterflies swirled in the air around the mirror. Several more butterflies and a couple of large dragonflies were actually sitting on the mirror face.

“Seth,” Kendra called quietly. “Come look at this.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Seth sighed, walking around to reach Kendra and doing a double take at the insects and birds around the mirror.

“What’s up with them? They’re acting like the fairies from Grandpa’s stories.”

“I’m not sure,” Kendra said. “Do insects like mirrors?”

“Ones that are secretly fairies do,” Seth joked.

Kendra rolled her eyes, “This isn’t Grandpa’s fairytales, Seth, what are they doing?”

“Admiring their lovely wings?”

“Well they are pretty wings.”

They stared for a moment.

“I dare you to grab the mirror,” Kendra said.

“Sure.”

He moved forward carefully, before snatching up the mirror and bolting to the pool, diving in.

Some of the insects and birds scattered, but most drifted after him for a moment.

“How strange,” Kendra muttered before shaking her head. “Seth, get the mirror out of the pool, the chemicals will ruin it!”

“Chill, it’s fine,” he said, stroking over to the side.

“Here, let me see it,” Kendra took the mirror from him and wiped it dry with her towel. It didn’t seem damaged.

She paused, eyeing the assorted insects around the pool.

“Want to try something?” Kendra said as she placed the mirror face up on a lounge chair and backed away.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Seth asked.

“We’ll see.”

Kendra and Seth sat down at the table, not too far away from the lounge chair. Kendra sipped her water as they watched a hummingbird glide over to the mirror. Soon it was joined by a few butterflies, and then some bumblebees, and then some dragonflies.

“Go turn the mirror face down,” Kendra suggested. “I wanna see if they like their reflections or the mirror itself.”

Seth crept forward slowly, the animals taking no notice of his approach. He reached forward carefully, then quickly flipped the mirror and bolted back to the table.

The ones that had landed on the mirror took flight when it was overturned, but only a few of the creatures flew away. A pair of butterflies and a dragonfly landed on the lounge chair at the edge of the mirror.

Kendra gasped as they took flight and flipped the mirror over, nearly sliding it off the chair in the process.

“Is that even possible?” Kendra muttered.

“That was so weird,” Seth agreed as the swarm pressed close to the mirror again.

“How are they strong enough to lift it?”

“There were a few of them,” Seth pointed out. “Want me to flip it again?”

“No, it might break… I don’t think butterflies are strong enough to flip that, it’s too heavy.”

“I dunno,” Seth said, draping his towel over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go change.”

“Take the mirror with you?”

“Sure, but if I get stung I’m telling Grandpa it was your fault.”

Seth moved to towards the mirror slowly, then snatched it up and rushed to the path back to the house. Part of the swarm drifted after him but didn’t follow far before scattering.

Kendra stared after them for a moment, frowning as she tried to figure out what was up with them. Seth was right, it really did remind her of the stories Grandpa told them about fairies.

How strange.

Kendra sighed and wrapped her towel around her waist, grabbing the sunblock and her water. She headed back to the house.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Kendra found Seth dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved camo shirt. He was checking through the cereal box that served as his emergency kit.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking if I need anything else,” he said innocently.

“How about some water?” Kendra said, eyes narrowed.

Seth brightened, “Good idea! I’ll grab some on my way out.”

He scooped up the kit and headed to the door.

“Where are you going?”

Seth paused, sending her a sly smile, “Promise you won’t tell?”

She huffed, “You’re going into the woods.”

He shrugged, “Wanna come?”

“You heard Grandpa, there are ticks in there, you’ll get Lyme disease.”

“Ticks are everywhere, so’s poison ivy. If people let possible dangers stop them then no one would ever go anywhere.”

“Grandpa will be mad, you’ll get in trouble.”

“Grandpa isn’t here. As long as you don’t tell, nobody will know.”

Kendra frowned, “Grandpa has been really nice. He didn’t want to have us here, but he opened his home to us. We should follow his rules, he only gave us like three of them.”

Seth rolled his eyes, “There’s no adventure in the garden.”

“Have you explored the whole yard yet?”

“How about this. If I don’t find anything interesting or weird or anything like that in the woods today, I’ll spend the next week only in the yard.”

Kendra considered, that sounded fair. What were the chances the forest had much in it?

“Grandpa’s livestock or whatever he has here doesn’t count.”

“Sure, but if I find a satyr or evil witch in the woods-“

“If you find an evil witch in the woods I’m not letting you back in the woods or you’ll get cursed.”

“But then how is Kendra the fairy princess gonna save me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes.

“Fight me.”

He laughed, “It’ll be fine, are you coming?”

Kendra hesitated, it did sound interesting but…

“No, not this time.”

“Will you tell on me?”

“If they ask I won’t lie.”

“I won’t be long,” Seth promised, hurrying out of the room.

Kendra sighed and stared around the room for a moment, what was there to do?

Oh yeah, she’d almost forgotten.

Kendra hurried to the nightstand, the mirror was resting on it. Beside the mirror was the key ring Grandpa had given her.

She’d already figured out what the biggest key opened, a jewelry box on the dresser that was full of costume jewelry, and a few pieces that looked real.

There were some fake necklaces and earrings and pendants and rings and bracelets, but also some that looked real. She was pretty sure the hair clip was real silver, and the bracelet looked like real rubies. She’d put them all back in the jewelry box, not sure if they were allowed to use it despite what Grandpa had said.

Did he mean for her to keep them in giving her the keys? Or was there a different purpose?

She wasn’t sure.

There had also been gold wrapped chocolates, only three of them, she’d had one and it was undoubtably the best chocolate she’d ever had.

She decided to check out the rest of the room for more key holes. She had two more keys, both smaller than the first. The smallest was no longer than a thumbtack. Where would she find such tiny keyholes?

The night before she’d tried all the drawers and toy chest, but none were small enough, and most unlocked anyways.

Her eyes scanned the room, trying to figure out what might have a small enough keyhole. They landed on the Victorian dollhouse.

Of course, if anything would have tiny keyholes, it would be a tiny house.

She unlatched the clasps of the house and opened it, revealing three stories and many rooms full of miniature furniture. Five doll people lived in the house—a father, a mother, a son, a daughter, and a baby.

The detail was incredible, the dolls had individual hairs on their heads and the clothing had patterns. The rooms themselves had just as much detail, with the beds having quilts, blankets, sheets, and pillows, and the couches having removable cushions. The bathtub even had movable knobs and the sinks had tiny cosmetic supplies on them.

The dollhouse’s master bedroom had an intricate armoire, with a large keyhole in the center, or well, large for the size of it.

Kendra inserted the tiniest key and turned it, smiling when the doors sprung open.

Inside were more of the gold wrapped chocolates, along with a small golden key. It was larger than the one that opened the armoire, but smaller than the one that opened the jewelry box.

Kendra carefully tucked the two wrapped chocolates away, they were two good to eat all at once.

She checked the rest of the tiny house, under every couch, bed, and carpet, behind every painting and dresser, in every closet and cabinet, but there were no more keyholes.

She closed up the dollhouse once more, determined to play with it later, this really was the dream dollhouse, she wished she’d had one at home.

Looking around the room, Kendra debated what to check next. There was one key left of the originals, plus the new one… was there a key in the jewelry box too?

She went back over to it, shifting through the real and fake jewelry to see. On a charm bracelet she found another little golden key, about the size of the one she’d found in the armoire. She took it off the bracelet and slipped it onto the keyring.

So that’s two new keys, and one of the originals.

She looked around again. Kendra had already checked all the dressers and toy chests and wardrobes (they were filled with fascinating stuff, the wardrobes had some of the softest fur coats and scarves and gloves she was jealous) but she could always double check. It was possible a key hole could be behind something, or under something, but she didn’t think it would be that crazy, the first two weren’t.

She decided to check the telescope, it seemed reasonable enough with all the knobs and different sections.

A thorough check later led her to be sure that there were no key holes.

Maybe she could see Seth through it though.

She opened the window, noticing Dale walking along the lawn at the outskirts of the woods. Kendra thought that he was out doing chores, why was he at the yard?

He stooped, putting something that he’d been carrying behind a low hedge, making her unable to see it. He set off at a brisk pace, glancing around as if worried someone would see.

Kendra considered for a moment, that seemed strange, but not bad. Her curiosity got the best of her though and she headed down the stairs.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Reaching outside, Dale was nowhere in sight. She headed over to the low hedge beneath the attic window, weaving through the beautiful gardens and past a few lovely fountains.

The hedge was about six feet before the edge of the forest and laying on the ground just behind it was a large pie tin full of milk.

Kendra crouched down, staring in fascination at the assorted animals hovering around it and drinking the milk.

An iridescent hummingbird hung suspended over the pie tin, along with several butterflies. One swooped down and splashed in the milk, before fluttering back up.

The hummingbird flew away after a moment and a dragonfly approached.

All the animals were very pretty. The butterflies wings the brightest colors and the dragonflies large and almost sparkling in the light.

“You’re all so pretty,” she murmured to the winged animals. “But why are you all drinking the milk?”

She gasped as a butterfly landed on her hand, wings fluttering delicately.

“Hello,” she whispered, staying still so as not to scare it away.

It’s wings fluttered, and after a moment it drifted back into the air.

She glanced back at the pie tin, surprised by how much the milk level had fallen.

Who knew that butterflies, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and bees liked milk?

She carefully straightened, grinning at the winged animals that drifted around her.

“I’ve got to go, enjoy your milk.”

She walked back towards the house, then paused partway. She studied the attic window for a moment. The house was pretty big, but the attic was fairly long.

Studying the window, she visualized the room. It only took up half the space that should be there.

She walked around to the opposite side of the house, distracted slightly by the many beautiful flowers, and the assorted fruit trees that dotted the lawn.

Arriving on the far side, she studied the top of the house. There were another set of attic windows, window that the room Seth and she were staying in couldn’t see. So, there was another side to the attic.

Maybe there was a secret passage to it in the playroom! Maybe that’s what the keys were for.

She was just about to head back to the attic to check when she noticed Dale coming from the barn with another pie tin.

She could always check the attic later.

She hurried over to Dale, frowning when he suddenly looked uncomfortable.

He pasted a smile on his face as she reached him, “Hey Kendra.”

“Hi, what are you doing?”

“Just taking some milk to the house,” he said, changing direction to head towards the house. He had been heading towards the woods.

“Why’s it in a pie tin? And why’d you leave the other tin behind the hedge?”

“Hedge?” he said innocently, looking incredibly guilty.

“There were a lot of butterflies there, drinking it.”

Dale stopped, studying Kendra intently. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

He glanced around as if there were spies nearby. “We have a few milking cows, and they make a lot of milk. We sell some of it, and use some, but there’s a bit excess. I put it out for the insects, seems to make them happy.”

“Why’s it a secret?” Kendra asked.

“Well, I never really asked if it was alright. Your grandfather might not be happy about me doing it when I could be trying to sell it.”

“It seems nice,” Kendra offered. “The animals seemed to like it.”

He nodded, “Yeah, they seem happy with it.”

“So you weren’t taking that tin to the house.”

He coughed, “No, no. This milk hasn’t been pasteurized. It’s full of bacteria, you could catch all sorts of diseases. People should not drink it, but the insects seem to like it best like this. You’ll keep my secret?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” he winked at her.

“Where are you putting that one?”

“Over there,” he jerked his chin towards the woods. “I set a few on the border of the yard every day.”

“Does it go bad? Or attract anything dangerous?”

“I don’t leave it out long. And some days they’re empty when I collect the pans, haha, they’re thirsty little critters.”

Kendra nodded, “Cool.”

“I’d best get back to work, I’ll see you around Kendra.”

“Yeah, see you later.”

She turned to head back inside.

“Oh yeah, you seen your brother around?” Dale asked.

“I think he’s in the house,” Kendra said. “He wanted some water last I checked.”

“Kay, just checking.”

Kendra waved, heading back in the house.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to reblog and leave a review, they feed my soul.

lmk if you’d like to be tagged.

[coolguycy]

all of them

Purple: 10 facts about my room: 

two sets of bunk beds 

im on the bottom bunk

super messy

my dresser is in my brothers room cause there was no space

i put up a sheet to give myself some privacy

no bedroom door

our mirror is broken (no one is sure how)

if you knock on the bedroom wall someone in the kitchen will think theres someone at the door and its really funny 

i have a poster of a dragon 

we just to have curtains on the window but they broke

Blue: 9 facts about my family

three queers (me, my bi sister and my aroace sister)

mom and dad are 9 years apart

7 people total

one older sister, 17

me, 16

younger sister, 14

little sister, 11

little brother, 9

i have three grandmas and one grandpa (rip to the other two)

Green: 8 facts about appearance

green-brown eyes

freckles on my nose

light brown hair

5′6

my right middle finger is permanently bent 

i have freckles all over my left arm 

very very pale

i have glasses but i dont wear them a lot

Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood

nope

Orange: 6 facts about my home town

super boring

like theres nothing here

the adjacent towns are really cool tho

theres a theme park really close to my house

my school is an hour commute from my house (see fact two)

area round my school is sus as hell also i got punched in the face there

Red: 5 facts about my best friend

love them so much

their super funny

i could listen to them all day

they have two hairless dogs (cuter than you’d think)

tumblr is @/apollo-the-fool

Pink: 4 facts about my parents

moms homophobic

dads pretty chill tho

mom is super religious

dad is too but less in your face

White: 3 facts about my personality

bold of you to assume i have one

Grey: 2 facts about my favorite things

answered this one in my last ask <3

Black: 1 fact about the person I like

tall as fuck

[mercurialmist]

Orts, Meghan Murphy, 2021

When coral and poppy lipsticks melt into waxy pools they are scraped away. Yet the empty tubes remain, rimmed with colorful remnants of time. 

The residue of laughing painted lips cling to hollow silver shells. The stifled air, moist with trapped memories, turns acidic, tarnishing the silver bullets in blues and greens. The weaker metals succumb to corrosion and the smooth geometric objects of the vanity descend into the mirrored surface…an infinite reflected universe of pock-marked moons and rust-cratered pits. Glass perfume bottles, whose contents have long-since evaporated, reveal droplets of gooey condensation on the inside. 

Every time I turn on a faucet the water splutters in mud brown streams before finally fading to a pale yellow trickle. 

Inside this house there is no letting go. 

We can’t even replace the carpets, until the carpets speak for themselves—abruptly unraveling to trip us up. Failing plumbing stains the walls in murky teardrops, rivulets cascading down, down into the earth—and the same shade of paint is used to cover up the blooming mold. The wallpaper-ed rooms are less lucky—if the wallpaper is no longer in production then it stays, doomed to gradually be absorbed by the sweating house. A bathroom with walls of vibrantly colored, life-sized birds has faded from ornate detail to abstract shapes. The yellow finch that used to watch me with a discerning eye, has been reduced to the silhouette for a toddler’s puzzle. 

The house gasps, groans, wheezes and secretes …

There are birds of all materials here. Porcelain eagles, taxidermy ducks and pheasants, delicate glass swans, a bronze peacock figurine…..

On the wall of the den is the mounted head of an indeterminant creature. Its mouth is open to reveal pointed white teeth and I see my brother and I reflected in the protruding marble eyes.

“It’s a fox,” I say.

 “No,” my brother responds resolutely. “It’s an opossum.” 

The toy box, an excavation site where the heavy wooden blocks of my mother’s childhood lay at the bottom and my own plastic toys float towards the top, all webbed together by the roots of tangled doll hair. We prefer to play with the bronzes—a collection of dog-sized statues line a room, an infinite circular migration. We climb on to ungiving saddles, little hands grasping cold buffalo horns and clutching at the faces of stoic Mohican chiefs. 

I am all too aware of the constant surveillance that follows my padded footsteps. The walls are covered in heavy oil paintings, depicting dramatic scenes of nature—a ship caught in the throes of an angry sea, horses (so many herds of horses) in various landscapes—galloping, grazing, leaping into the air with rolling white eyes—and two large portraits of them, stationed in the heart of the house. 

The grand piano sits below their looming faces—a glossy sacrificial altar. The ebony surface is covered in a clutter of picture frames, the many factions of a tangled family tree. The newest faces and unions vie for the front, dangerously close to the edge, while past, ended marriages and children long grown linger in the back.…. It’s the photos that don’t make it in the frames that matter—those candid moments that break through the glossy sheen.  

I enter rooms on tip-toe, and hold my breath, always waiting for…what? To see the statues scramble back into place? The portraits conversing? I can’t even find peace in the bathroom, where a framed, larger-than-life nude woman bathes in the moonlight, glancing accusatorially over her shoulder at me. 

And when it all becomes unbearable, all that empty, heavy space, all the unblinking eyes, I defy the house the only way a child can. I open the home stereo system, installed under the old record player, and press play on the album ‘Now That’s What I Call Music. 9.’ There is something immensely satisfying about filling the space with the pulsating base of Missy Elliot and dancing spastically around the house. Pausing in front of china cabinets and display cases to flail my limbs wildly. I am both defying the on-looking artefacts and also moving, running, prancing, and crawling for them. I scream the obscene lyrics, and when I don’t know the words I fill the void with howls, yelps and guttural cries. 

In the summer, we collect dozens of inky black tadpoles from the pond and bring them inside to observe their evolution into frogs. With transfixed satisfaction we watch the wiggling amphibians absorb their tails and gills, to sprout webbed feet, gradually preferring the floating branches to the depths of the tank. 

By the time the frogs are leaping and croaking, their startling ruckus is too erratic and I can feel the house expelling their presence. When I release the frogs, I think of the mounted fox, collecting dust in his perpetual snarl, glass stags frozen in flight, the bronze boar in everlasting terror and the hounds always tensed to lunge. 

We have granted these things a power and their stillness now vibrates with a tension that will surely crack if the white porcelain arms of ballerinas, extended high over heads, don’t finally rest. 

Every closet and drawer is filled with them. Racks of dresses hang in a shocking burst of color that even years of mothballs can’t subdue. Stacked boxes of white leather gloves, waiting to either mold itself to my skin in a permanent grasp or disintegrate from the shock of warm, pulsating flesh. His imposing army of suits, the outgrown shells of a larger-than-life man. 

Over the years, we grow bolder and shift through her dresses, fingering the stiff fabrics and choosing our favorites. 

“Try them on girls,” they whisper. 

We are all silent as the rigid materials swallow our pre-pubescent bodies, but there is no warm encasing or folding of fabric over our slight frames. The dresses stubbornly maintain their womanly shapes, and we are just sticks propping up the figure of her. 

It’s when we start to move that the ritual commences. There is something intimate and precious, and thrilling, because we know it is wrong to be wearing her clothes. In these gowns we feel elegant and graceful and hold our heads high as we twirl and pirouette through the house like a coronation—a sense of importance and birth-right. 

We baptize the stiff dresses in our sweat and the dusty-dry fabric greedily soaks in youthful beads of perspiration…a secretion of inheritance. 

…10 years later

“Now that I’ve left, when I come back to the house I feel like that boy, Holden, from Catcher in the Rye,” he says with a half-smile. His posture is rigid though, and I find my brother’s resigned behavior maddening, as if we hadn’t spent our childhood living here. Hands stuffed in his coat, he winds through the room, giving the furnishings a wide berth.  

“Remember,” he continues, “how Holden loved the Natural History Museum as a child and suddenly he can’t bear going back because he’s changed and everything remains the same inside the museum?”

I only vaguely remember something about a red (or was it orange?) hat and a carousal. His eyes finally land on the oversized portraits of our great-grandparents, dominating the living room, and his expression sets.  

“Meg,” he is resolute but I can sense a dread in his voice that alarms me.

“I love you and I want to set you free.” He emphasizes “free” as if it means so much more than I understand. 

“Sometimes the power of a place, an artefact, or a story, can help guide us into our own. But this has gotten way out of hand. We,” he gestures around the room to indicate our family, “we were once the weavers of our truth. But, suddenly our hands couldn’t keep up with the loom, or it was like the loom didn’t need us anymore…and now we’re tangled, trapped, suffocating in our own creation, while the story shuttles on. I hope that you are able to let it all go…leave this tangled mess where it lies. Perhaps pause to wonder at the knots, frayed ends, and faded dyes…at this jumbled creature that has enveloped you, and what it once was. I want you to feel the blood start to circulate back into limbs that you haven’t even realized are numb, wrapped up in this vice-like thread. When all this is over, maybe take a strand or two with you to carry around as a reminder.”

In the back of my mind I can hear my cousins’ comments about how lost my brother is. How ungrateful he is to turn his back on all that our family has worked so hard to achieve, and how our spoiled upbringing is the only explanation for his dissatisfaction. 

“I don’t understand…”

He surges on:

“You know how Grandpa taught me how to fish? And how I was so excited that I nearly hooked myself in the eye?” I smile fondly as he touches his brow, where a small scar disrupts the arc of hair.

“That never happened. I got this scar from hitting my head on the coffee table. I don’t even like fishing. And I barely remember them!” 

He gestures accusatorily at the serene, smiling faces on the wall. 

I am horrified. 

I was born shortly after my great-grandparents had died, and grew up envying and reveling in everyone else’s memories of them.  

“I started to catch on that everybody in our family had these special moments with them, and that there was never any kind of timeline or specific setting. And everyone is always trying to up each other with how meaningful their memories are. Aunt Susan got herself into trouble when she went a bit too far with her sailing story, involving that storm and shipwreck, forgetting that Grandpa never learned to swim.” 

He picks up a porcelain horse from the mantle-piece and snaps a leg off. For a moment I swear I hear the terribly crisp ‘crack!’ of breaking glass, resounding through the house. Instead, there is only my own sharp gasp and a dull splintering sound. 

“This isn’t hand-made, limited edition porcelain from Vienna. It’s acrylic. Probably from China. Maybe there was an original figurine once-upon-a-time, and maybe Grandma really did smuggle it back from Europe in her jacket, but this particular one is the third acrylic replica—in our lifetime—to be placed here.”

He looks at me pleadingly, “surely you must have caught-on that something was up…”

I look around the room; was there an imperceptible dulling of color and light? Had there always been so much…stuff? Every surface is covered with the treasured belongings of my great-grandparents. I finger the scratchy wool of pillows she crocheted. Here was his rifle collection, above a desk littered with her stationary and a heavy glass paper weight. And suddenly I feel those binding ties that he had been talking about. Every object, painting, and photograph that has been eternalized in my memory over the years, is connected to me by hundreds of threads tied to my ribcage. As I stare at the tremoring silky strands, I wonder whether I spun this web or if the objects themselves cast the net. And now I can never unsee or un-feel myself caught, suspended, propped-up in this thing. I realize that these are ties only I can sever. But what if these little connections are what hold me upright? I picture myself a crumpled heap on the floor, with no more wonder and certainty to buoy me back up. 

“Hurry!” My brother says, an edge of desperation in his voice, “before it is too late.”

I frantically begin to pull…and pull and pull and the fibrous strings just keep coming….slipping, wet and glistening, through my skin… and then with a panic I press on my stomach and, instead of my bottom ribs, all I feel is soft, vulnerable intestines. I am unraveling myself. I am this thread, and I was moments away from unmaking myself.

Suddenly, my brother’s face transforms. As I watch, it continues to mutate between gender and age, and yet there is something familiar looking back at me. In skin that is soft, taut, and lined—all at once—I glimpse iterations of the same eye-shape, and pointed chin. And I am not afraid. “You have passed the test. And so, you have earned these—The Scissors of Acceptance, and The Stone of Truth.” They pass me a pair of small silver scissors and a whetstone, that sits reassuringly in the palm of my hand. 

“But ask yourself: why was it so easy for my little tale and demonstration to nearly unspool you?” 

When does the silence of family secrets, glaring omissions and mysterious gaps, accumulate to become more substantial than what is known? Perhaps the unspoken and unacknowledged is the backbone of the narrative. Perhaps one doesn’t necessarily contradict, or negate, the other. 

I can not pull, or exorcise this thing from my body; I must accept it for what it is and be grateful that it supported my trembling legs until I could stand on my own. I use The Scissors of Acceptance, sharpened by The Stone of Truth, to cut the strings. Each snip of the scissors is a snapped chord—a violent jerk, quivering, and finally stillness. 

I leave the house. And these ‘orts’—leftover fragments of the past—trail behind me in a soft silver wake. As I continue moving, the ghostly little strings begin to tentatively seek each other, connect like grasping hands, and eventually these remaining ties are the beginning of something new, and whole. A sheening garment, light as air, covers me like a second skin—as comforting as a blanket and protective as armor. 

See more of Meghan’s work at: https://www.everythingforever.net/meghan-murphy