#also. not putting this in my art tag. read now or forever hold your peace

[mumblesplash]

ok just because this is driving me crazy for context here’s the (very very rough) start of the comic i’m talking about, with a decent chunk edited out for brevity and/or bc it’s still in a state that would literally Only make sense to me

a few notes to anyone actually attempting to read this:

any black and white text screenshots are parts of the script that i hadn’t even turned into thumbnail sketches yet

for my own notes i gave the problem itself the placeholder name ‘trolley’ and the lever man ‘proxy’

it very much is intentional that trolley doesn’t use first person pronouns until after proxy ties her to the tracks, one could even say that detail is indicative of the overarching theme of the whole comic

yes my planning, organizational, and storyboarding skills have improved since i made this, no they have not improved as much as you’d hope

they go back and forth for a WHILE, with proxy eventually managing to deconstruct the problem entirely and escape. (visualized as him getting on the trolley and riding it away)

trolley helps him do this even though she’s fully expecting the process to erase her, but due to the nature of what they are proxy manages to bring her with him. he admits he didn’t say anything because he wasn’t entirely sure he could save her and offers to let her go if she doesn’t want to keep existing as something new, but she’s just happy to still exist at all and decides to stay

(also near the end, right before trolley thinks she’s about to disappear, there’s this little exchange which i laughed at enough going over my notes for this that i figured i might as well leave it in)

only the absolute realest of the real ones will have a clue what i’m talking about here but i just realized the ‘grian argues with the secret keeper’ comic is 100% the spiritual successor to that trolley problem comic i storyboarded back in december 2020 but never finished or posted

[firewoodfigs]

Tagged by the resplendent @roseofbattles :)

TEN GOOD THINGS IN 2023

1. New York / poetry readings — sometime around September, I got to feed an old, ostensibly impractical dream that’s emerged and lurked around since two decades ago. I wrote a poem and got to read it aloud in a wonderful art studio around Chelsea, teeming with so much talent and heart, thanks to the incredible @mirabile---visu. Thank you, dear friend, for giving my poem a home. I will remember this forever and hold dear to heart all the honest conversations we had over pizza, art and wine <3 you are such an inspiration and I can’t wait to see you again! Thank you too to the insanely talented @go-haywire for putting my words into print and allowing them to rest in a well-bound sanctuary — I carried it with me in New York as a lucky charm, and will always be eternally grateful for your generosity and faith.

2. New Zealand — sometime in April, in between jobs, I got to visit the amazing @tsaritsa in NZ, and it was two weeks of peace and great novelty, including but not limited to riding on a horse, feeding penguins, and donning on a firefighter costume! We also walked a ton and talked a lot and gazed upon a blanket of stars. Thank you for all your hospitality and love which I will never forget (and see you in 2024?!)

3. Other travels — I travelled a lot around Asia this year, for work and for fun! I got to see the cherry blossoms for the first time in my life with Japan with my partner. We also got to celebrate his birthday there, and it was an all around lovely trip; I’m really happy he got to have this break because he’s been truly working so hard in 2023. I also ushered in the new year with a dear friend in South Korea; the fireworks were nothing short of spectacular! We got a strawberry shortcake after and returned to our cute little apartment to just wind down and pen down our hopes for 2023 :) I also got to visit Thailand, Vietnam and Malaysia for work, which were really exciting experiences!

4. Job switch — sometime in April, I was confronted with this HUGE dilemma of staying here in my hometown or moving to… a tax-free desert… the latter meant I’d at least be able to stay with my previous firm, but after a lot of coffees and deep consideration I decided it was better to move on to someplace else and stay put so I could spend more time with my partner. In hindsight it was probably the best decision I could’ve made; 2023 has been quite emotionally distressing for us and I would’ve hated to see him ensure all of that alone. I was mildly apprehensive at first about the switch, but I’ve been really blessed to have the most wonderful colleagues and bosses and am really excited to see what’s in store next :)

5. Meeting new friends, and in a similar vein, catching up and reuniting with old ones :) New York was a dream, in large part due to meeting some of the most luminous souls I’ve had the serendipitous pleasure of knowing during the pandemic—first over a screen, and then in person, over karaoke, and bagels, and coffee, and ice cream, and of course fried chicken LOL. @x-rainflame-x @roseofbattles @nightofnyx8 @beware-thegemini @thatisadamnfinecupofcoffee @annespelledwithane it was so so precious getting to meet you all in New York and I will cherish our time there together forever!

6. Learning a language—I try to learn at least one new word a day, and I’ve also been working on my Japanese since moving into a Japanese firm. It really helps as well to have colleagues that I can practice with—I took classes briefly in college but it sort of just drifted out of my memory after the pandemic because I didn’t speak it regularly, but now that I do it’s been super fun!

7. Getting into Spy x Family — and consequently, getting back into fic writing :) all of this is @nightofnyx8’s fault btw, now I have to pretend I like this stupid fake family a normal amount (when I’m just obsessed an unhealthy amount lmao)

8. Fraud/investigations work — this basically consumed the entirety of my Nov/Dec and there’s not much I can divulge about it (apart from the fact that it pretty much aged me by a decade) but… I felt like Loid Forger and it was fun being a spy for a month. the end

9. Dealing better with anxiety (?)—question mark because my progress is… questionable. On one hand I think I’ve gotten a lot better at regulating (or perhaps suppressing) a lot of associated feelings, but it still gets frightening on occasion when the dam breaks free without much prior warning. Regardless I think it’s a marked improvement from the countless menty bs back in college lmao. To be very frank, having a stable income of sorts has helped a great deal; in college I was constantly plagued with the fear of not having enough to purchase required materials or at times food, and it was just a lot to deal with. It felt like there was no room for failure because I only had myself to rely upon, and success was the only tenable avenue out of poverty, but being able to now obtain necessities and even additional wants has done wonders for my mental health. It’s true that money doesn’t happiness, and I spend a great deal of time daily mulling over capitalism and consumerism and the like, but I cannot deny the sense of security it affords.

10. And finally, falling deeper in love everyday :) it’s easy to think we know a great deal about someone, except we don’t. People may appear simple, but the truth is we’re all a work in progress, and by extension, a continuing story. I could read a million books and write a million poems, but beloved, believe me—you will always be my favourite.

Goodbye 2023, and hello 2024!

[honeyhan-123]

The Artist ~ II

Summary: When Steve meets the reader at an art class he immediately becomes enticed and maybe, just maybe, she can help heal his wounded heart.

Warnings: Lil’ bit of angst/previous heartbreak

Word Count: 3.2k

AN: Here it is! The next chapter of The Artist! Thank you so much to everyone for their feedback. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get the next chapter out by next Saturday as I have a uni exam on the Friday but I’ll try. 

As usual, a massive thank you to @imanuglywombat​ for the beautiful moodboard and @magdaleneruth​ for being an exceptional beta. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Part One

II. 

Despite the serum making him run hotter than most, harsh temperatures always managed to seep under his skin. The cold wind nipped at Steve, sending a chill down his spine, he’d spent enough time on ice for one lifetime.

Days like these reminded him of those nights, when he’d tuck in next to Bucky. Most of the time they hadn’t been able to afford heating—when things made a turn for the worse, Bucky would crawl in next to him, cocooning him in his arms, sharing his body warmth. 

Steve had struggled for a long time after the first of those nights. A mixture of emotions has swirled inside him and he had no idea what to do, let alone what to think or how to feel about it. He felt lost.

Bucky was his one constant—the one person he could come to, always. Who could he turn to when he, himself, was the catalyst?

Maybe it was wrong by old world sensibilities. He didn’t see it. He didn’t care, not really. Not when the even beating of Bucky’s heart thumped against his back as he drifted into a peaceful slumber.

It was only years later, during the war when Steve had met Peggy and found that same solace that he had realised what it meant. 

Steve shuddered against the wind, curling himself further into his jacket, trying to wrap it around him tighter as though it would help him purge those memories from his mind. 

He heard a sound before he felt the impact—catching  against his chest, it almost clapped against his coat. Digging his hands from his pockets, he grabbed the paper. He could barely make out the heading as the wind kept folding it over, this way and that, obscuring his sight of the blasted thing. 

When he finally managed it, his face broke out into a smile. 

Calling All Art and Wine Lovers. Do you love art? Do you also love wine? Come down to Roman’s Bar for a night of painting with accompanying wines. Entry fee $25. Drinks and easels are supplied but feel free to bring your own. 

He skimmed the rest of the flyer to find the first session was happening Monday night. it would only be painting a fruit bowl or something like that, but for some inexplicable reason Steve felt compelled to go. It almost felt like fate that he’d happened upon that flyer. Not that he put much stock into that.

Maybe he could convince Sam to go with him… maybe Bucky? He had always been interested in Steve’s art back in the day. It might even help him feel more like himself. Steve knew he hadn’t been adjusting very well since coming back from Wakanda, since that conversation. The world still felt so new and different and he hardly trusted himself due to his days as the Winter Soldier.

With his mind made up, Steve strolled through the city streets, a new found warmth blooming in his chest and a smile on his face. 

+

‘I’m not sure, Steve. I was never that good at art like you.’ 

It was Sunday evening that Steve had finally decided to broach the idea of drunken painting with Bucky.

‘You don’t have to be, Bucky! That’s why this is so perfect. I can guarantee you it will be a relaxed night of drinking some wine and painting a couple of pieces of fruit. It’ll be fun.’ Steve could see him mulling over his words, his brows pulled close into a frown. 

‘What if they recognise me, though? That’s a great way to ruin everyone’s night.’ 

‘Bucky.’ Steve clasped a hold of the brunet’s shoulder, forcing him to look into his eyes. ‘Everyone knows it wasn’t you in Vienna and everyone knows you weren’t in control for all those years before.’

It broke his heart to hear his best friend talk so dismissively about himself. He tried not to let it show on his face when Bucky shrugged his hand off of his shoulder. 

‘I think it will be really good for you, getting out, you know? Letting people see the real you. You’re an Avenger, Buck. You can’t hide away forever.’ 

‘I don’t even know who the real me even is anymore.’

‘Then this is a perfect starting point. You can find out if you like drinking wine and painting.’ 

Maybe he was stretching, but he was just so eager to show him the new world. Bucky had to face the fact that if he continued hiding in the shadows, then rumour mill would only continue to turn. 

He was desperate to get his best friend back. Things hadn’t been quite the same since that night. ‘Look, if you hate it, I promise I won’t bug you about going back.’ 

Steve could tell Bucky still wasn’t a hundred percent sold on the idea, but he nodded. ‘Fine I’ll come. Where the hell are you taking me, Rogers?’

+

Despite the near perfect mask Bucky’s face wore, Steve could tell he was nervous. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure everything will be fine.’ 

He let out a sigh that turned to a muttered uh huh before stepping forward and pushing open the frosted glass door. 

Steve had no idea what he had been expecting but Roman’s Bar was definitely not it. He couldn’t help but be taken aback. The room was buzzing despite it being a Monday. It looked to be a popular after work hangout for those that lived in the Brooklyn area.

‘Hi there, are you looking for a table for two?’ A handsome man came up to the pair, his voice was deep and flowed like honey. Steve peered at the tag on his chest pocket and read that his name was Miguel. 

‘Uh… I’m sorry. I think there’s been a mistake.’ 

Realisation washed over the man’s face and he nodded in understanding. ‘You’re here for the wine and painting class correct?’ Steve nodded, relieved that he at least wasn’t making a complete fool of himself. ‘Don’t worry, it’s right through here. Most of the painting patrons come in through the side entrance over on J Avenue. I’m sorry for the mistake.’ He led the two men through the heaving crowd and Steve started to get second thoughts. 

He had expected a more elderly crowd, similar to the one at Maxine’s class last week, not young twenty-somethings. Yet when Miguel pushed through a velvet curtain at the back of the room, they were led down a small hallway—Steve could see another door leading out onto the street and assumed this was the entrance Miguel had been talking about. They were led through another frost glass door and he was relieved to see a room much more like the one he had been expecting. 

It was small, cozy, and slightly old fashioned—a complete contrast to the sleek, modern bar he had just left. They’d only just arrived but Steve already felt right at home. Some soothing Jazz was playing from a record player in one corner of the room, completely drowning out the vibing music that had been pumping out on the main floor of the bar.

‘This is Susanne. She’s the lead instructor for tonight. I hope you fine fellows have a pleasant evening.’ As he turned to start heading back to the main room, Steve could have sworn he saw Miguel wink at him and it sent a rush of excitement through him. 

‘Good evening gentlemen. You’re just in time, we were just about to start. The entry fee is $25 each. Will you be paying together or separately?’ Susanne’s voice was soothing and Steve hastily fished a fifty from his pocket. 

‘Together, thank you.’ 

She nodded and took the bill, heading over to a small bar in the back corner of the room. 

‘What can I get for you? Would you like a glass of the house white or red? Other options are available, but at an extra cost.’ 

He shared a look with Bucky before responding. ‘Two of your house reds, thank you.’ 

‘Of course, dearie.’ She pulled two glasses from underneath the counter and uncorked the bottle. The dark red swirled in the glass as she poured.

Steve thanked her again as he and Bucky took their drinks. 

‘If you need a refill at any point just let one of the servers or instructors know. Now it’s nearly eight, so why don’t you grab a seat and we’ll be starting very soon.’ Steve smiled and led Bucky off, searching for a pair of seats together. 

The easels were set up in a semi-circle around a stool with a bowl of fruit. There were only two rows and even though the first wasn’t filled yet, Steve headed for the back row, knowing it would make Bucky more comfortable. 

Once they were all settled in, Steve pulled his sketchbook from his bag and placed it on the easel. Even though the bar had supplied some utensils, he again opted for his own pencils—this time bringing some coloured ones along. 

He could see Bucky’s eyes darting around the room, assessing everything from neighbouring faces to points of entry. It had been so long since he’d been able to rest. Steve just wanted to put him at ease or at least offer him some respite to the memories that plagued him.

He sighed at the thought, having more than enough guilt for them both.

The door swung open, catching Steve’s attention. He felt his jaw go slack at the sight.

There you were. You wore the same button down shirt and jeans as last time and Steve figured they must be your painting clothes. You seemed slightly frantic searching through the crowd, more than relieved to find Susanne as she bustled over to you. 

‘I’m so sorry I’m late. Work was hectic, there’s this big case and–’

Susanne cut you off shaking her head with a smile on her face. ‘You don’t have to apologise, darling. You're hardly late, we haven’t even started yet. Just grab a seat and we’ll begin soon.’ You smiled, graciously handing over some cash before taking a seat in the front next to an elderly lady Steve had noticed earlier. 

‘Oh! Darling you’re here!’ The woman greeted you excitedly, leaning over to give you a slight hug. ‘I was worried something had happened, you’re normally so punctual.’

‘It was work.’

‘Is that boss of yours giving you a hard time again? I honestly don’t understand why you don’t tell him where he can stick it and just quit.’

A melodic laugh escaped your lips and your eyes crinkled slightly. You smiled further as one of the servers approached, carrying a glass of shimmering white wine. You thanked her by name as you took it. 

Clearly you were a regular here. 

‘If only, Gladys… but you of all people know how expensive Brooklyn’s gotten to live in.’ 

She hummed in agreement. ‘It’s nothing like it was in my day. But still, you shouldn’t be stuck behind a desk at a job you hate. You should be out there, showcasing your work. It’s truly remarkable.’

‘I don’t hate my job. Besides, I’ve already been down that road, remember? And failed hard.’ Even in his short time of knowing you, Steve could hear the lie on your voice and felt a pang of sadness for you. ‘That’s what led me to Mr. Barber’s company.’ 

Gladys nodded and before she could respond, Susanne stepped up by the stool. 

‘Hello all and welcome to tonight’s ‘Fine Art and Fine Wine’ class. If everyone has what they need, we should be ready to get started.’ She lifted the red cloth from the table, revealing the bowl beneath. It was a clear glass serving bowl that had blue swirls of ink running through it and inside was an arrangement of autumnal fruits—

Pomegranates. Blood oranges. A passion fruit and some figs, all ornately placed.

At first glance, Steve knew it was a perfect arrangement. It was simple enough that some of the beginners in the class would still be able to manage but had some difficult elements that would offer a challenge for the more seasoned artists. 

Brilliant.

Despite the small fragments of chitchat, Steve quickly lost himself to the sketch—capturing the slight green tinge of the passion fruit or the darker hues of pink from the pomegranates. 

It was so soothing, just being able to sit and draw, occasionally taking sips of his wine. Even Bucky looked relaxed. Well, nearly… It’s as close to the word he could manage these days.

The hours had flown by all too soon. Still. Steve felt fairly proud of what he had achieved. It had been a while since he had worked with colour, but he felt he had done a decent job of it. 

‘So what do you think?’ He asked Bucky as he started packing up the pencils, sorting them neatly into their colours. 

‘It was actually okay. I… I had fun.’ Steve looked about ready to pull a muscle in his face with how hard Bucky’s words had him smiling. ‘Don’t start.

‘I didn’t say a word,’ he defended, hands raised in fealty. ‘You just need to be willing to try and put yourself out there. I know it’s hard, but you’ll always have me.’ 

Maybe it was still too soon. Too fresh after that conversation. 

He quickly averted his gaze back to his drawing. Steve felt a pang in his heart and continued to silently pack up, trying desperately not to think back to that night when Bucky had first returned to the tower.

+

Steve found himself shivering as he stood out on the landing pad, waiting for the quinjet to touch down. 

He knew rationally that Bucky still had a long road of recovery ahead of him. He knew this. It didn’t stop Steve from being so relieved to have him here. To have him home.

Maybe this time around, Steve would be the one to be Bucky’s protector. And maybe, once he was ready… If he was ever ready.

Steve hated himself for thinking so selfishly, but he couldn’t help but hold onto that hope. 

Hope that in these new modern times, he and Bucky might actually have a chance. 

He had greeted Bucky and quickly shown him inside, guiding him through the multiple hallways and staircases until they reached his new apartment. 

Steve had made sure it was the one next to his own, wanting him to be as close as possible. He had even gone so far as to temporarily move out of his apartment in Brooklyn for this.

He’d wanted to stick around, help him settle in but when Bucky told him  all he wanted to do was sleep, exhausted from the flight as he was, Steve relented.

Later, they said.

Another day, they said… 

Only that day never came. 

Over the coming weeks, Steve quickly noticed Bucky was avoiding him. 

While he was quiet most of the time with the others, he didn’t find some excuse to leave the room whenever they entered like he did with Steve. At first, he just thought Bucky needed time to adjust. 

He gave him time. 

He gave him space. 

But a couple months down the road, they were well into summer with no mention of the rift between them. 

He made sure to wait him out until he knew with certainty that Bucky was back from dinner with Sam.

When he heard his familiar rustling the next room over, he tried to push away the pain that things had fallen so off course. Steve hadn’t even been to dinner with him yet.

He glanced at the mirror, taking himself in. Despite the heavy bags that lined the underneath of his eyes, he felt that he had managed to look at least a bit presentable. A final nod before heading out for the night. A final breath before blowing his reality to bits.

He pads next door and knocks.

When the answer came swiftly, Bucky didn’t seem surprised. If anything, he looked as if he’d been expecting him.

‘Come on in.’

 ‘Your head’s gonna combust if you keep all that fire locked up in there. Say your piece and it just might bring you some.’

‘I thought… I thought things were better.’ 

‘Things are better. I’m better. But you—’

‘Then what is it? Tell me what’s going on,’ he begs over him. ‘I can feel you pulling away. You can barely stand to be in the same room as me. Please, Buck. Help me understand.’

He was quiet for a beat, just watching Steve come down from getting so worked up. It gave him time to collect himself, collect his thoughts… 

‘I know what you want from me. I take one look at you and I know… but I’m not him.’ Steve looked about ready to argue but Bucky raised his hand, begging to finish. ‘You wanted to understand. I’ll never be the same man I was back then and being around you, being with you? It’s painful, Steve. It’s a constant reminder of what was taken from me and how I’ll never be the same.’ 

‘You can’t say things like that. It’s not true.’

‘Don’t you think it hurts me that I can’t be that for you?’ He gestured all around the room, never wavering. ‘That we could have all of this together and call it a day… Don’t you think I want that rest?’

‘We can work through it. We’ve been through so much together.’ Steve swallowed the lump in his throat, so ready to contest that he doesn’t have to feel the same. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered—he still loved him. ‘We can get through this, too.’

‘Steve…’ Bucky could tell just how painful this was for him but he knew it needed to be said, it needed to be done. ‘There was a time I loved you so much I’d have fought a whole war for you. Love and war… that’s not something you get out of. I’m still fighting.’ 

Face buried in his hands, Steve swiped at the tears that stained his hot and itching cheeks.

‘Please, Buck… don’t say it. I love you. Here and now. I don’t care about the rest of it,’ he murmured desperately into his palms. ‘I love you.’

‘I know.’

Both men sat in their defeat as the confession faded into silence.

‘He’s gone. I can’t be him and we can’t be together. I know it’s hard but please, please, don’t hate me. You mean so much to me.’

‘I shouldn’t have thought just because you were here with me now—it doesn’t mean anything. I could never hate you. And I would never want to see you in pain… But I can’t just leave you, knowing you’re out there alone as me.’ He drags a hand through his hair, looking anywhere else. ‘We were friends, best friends. We could go back to that, couldn’t we?’

‘Of course, punk.’ He clapped his back and hoped it wasn’t too much, too soon. ‘Best friends.’ 

Even as his heart was breaking, Steve managed a small smile. It was a far cry from ideal, but if it kept Bucky in his life, he was prepared to bite the bullet if that’s what it took. 

Despite the smiles and promises, things would never be the same after that. Not really… 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

[justkending]

Are you stupid or stupid? (Drabble)

Summary: Maybe having kids do your makeup wasn’t the best for a tired babysitter.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1500+

Warnings: Just a ton of fluff that you may or may not be able to handle... :)

A/N: This is for @itsunclebucky​‘s challenge! I had the prompts: “Are you stupid or stupid?” & “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look ugly. And that makes me kind of happy.” - Bridesmaids Thank you for letting me do this challenge my dear, and congrats on your milestone! Here to more milestones in the future!! xoxox

____________

You usually had to say no when your sister asked if you could babysit considering your job. At any moment you could get a call saying the world was ending, and you needed to jump on a Quinjet to go save it.

But after what had to have been the 10th time canceling with your sister, Tony told you not to worry. It had been a tough argument between both of your iron hard heads. One with you saying you would find time later and wanted to stay at the compound just in case. 

But after Tony had Morgan, he always made sure you could escape to your family when you needed. He knew the right thing to say every time too to get you to leave your job behind, and put your family first. 

“You don’t know the next time you’ll get to see them. So if the world isn’t ending this instant, get your fine ass out of here.”

So with a heavy roll of your eyes, you nodded knowing he was right. You did love seeing and spending time with your family, but could easily be blinded by the needs of your job.

However, tonight you told your sister that you would babysit, and her and her wife could go out on a date night. You don’t remember the last time you hung out with your nieces, and they were always such a hoot. 

Tonight consisted of loads of movies, princess play, staying up way past bedtime, and some intense makeovers. 

By the time you did get the girls to bed, you were too tired to mess with the heavy amounts of eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick smeared all over your face. Mainly in places it was not made to be put. 

You looked like Abby from that show Broad City on the episode where she gets her wisdom teeth out, and her friend does her makeup like a drag queen. It was that bad.

But again, you were too tired to care.

So when your sister came home to relieve you of your job, she couldn’t hold back her laughter and neither could her wife. 

“I know. I know it’s bad. I’ll take it off when I get home though.” you yawned as you sat up from the couch and stretched. 

“You could just stay the night here,” she offered, fluffing the pillow you were leaning on.

“I would, but I have training early in the morning. Gotta show some of the new agents how to kick Bucky’s ass,” you chuckled, grabbing your things and crossing your arms. “Thanks for letting me hang out with the girls. I miss them and I really needed this.”

“Thank you for letting us get out of the house for once without the little rascals,” your sister smiled.

“You’re more than welcome to have some sleep overs here whenever you need a healthy dose of birth control,” her wife Sarah said nodding at the girls bedroom. 

“Noted, and I will for sure cash that in at some point,” you chuckled tiredly. 

“You sure you’re good to drive?” your concerned sister asked walking you to the door.

“I’m good. It’s only a 10 minute drive. I’ll wake up once I get in the car.” 

“Ok, drive safe. Thanks again sis.” 

“Anything for you and Sarah. And the girls of course!” you waved walking out to the driveway.

“Text me when you’re home!” she shouted.

______

You made it back to the compound in one piece, but you were exhausted. 

When you got back to your room, you saw your boyfriend was still up at the late hour, and was reading a book in the corner of your balcony. Bucky always waited up for you if you were coming home late. You knew it was so that he had a peace of mind of you being safe, and also that he couldn’t sleep well without you. 

He never told you those things, but it wasn’t hard to catch on. 

As soon as the door shut behind you, you saw him turn in his seat and smile before coming back in the room. 

But just a few steps in he froze, and tilted his head. 

“What, uh, whatcha got going on there?” he said with a small chuckle escaping. 

“What?” you asked confused. 

He pointed at his own face making a circle with his index finger showing he was talking about you. 

“Wh-” you started, but then your brain caught up and you remembered that you had makeup done by a 4 and 6 year old still on. “Oh, crap I forgot.” you moaned slumping over and walking to the bathroom in a drained way.

All you could hear was full on laughing from the other room, as Bucky slowly collected himself enough to come into the bathroom with you. 

You were looking for your makeup wipes, but must have moved them because you couldn’t find them fast enough. 

When you looked up in the mirror looking at Bucky behind you, he had his arms crossed and one hand covering his mouth. He was trying SO hard not to laugh, but when you made eye contact with him again, he folded over laughing more. 

“What is so funny about this?” you chuckled at his reaction. You don’t remember the last time he was this giggly. It’s not like you guys don’t laugh when you're together, but this giggle fest was so much stronger than most. 

“Nothing. Nothing.” he said trying to hold it in, but failing. You send him a serious look not having the energy for this like you normally would. “Ok, ok.” he said, seeing you were too tired to understand. “It’s just that...It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look ugly. And that makes me kind of happy.”

“What?!” you shouted, turning to look at him. 

“Wait-” he said, getting defensive but still laughing. 

“You can’t just tell a girl she’s ugly Buck!” you shouted playfully running up and shoving his chest. You would be offended, but you know he didn’t mean it that way. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to let him off with his slip up. 

“Let me restate what I meant,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender as you kept smacking him. “I didn’t mean ugly, I meant...” He was in a bind and didn’t know how to fix it, and once again the giggles came back out. 

“Are you stupid or stupid?” you said straight faced crossing your arms over your chest tightly. 

“Stupid. Very, very stupid.” he answered still laughing as he pulled your elbows to him, and held you in an embrace. His chin resting on the top of your head. 

“At least you got one thing right.” you mumbled into his chest. 

“I’m guessing the little munchkins did this amazing transformation.”

“How’d you know?” you said in a sarcastic tone. 

“Wild guess.” he chuckled. Then he pulled you back holding your shoulders as he looked at you. “I’m just not used to seeing you with makeup up of any sort, and this... Well, this is not the kind of makeup I ever thought I would see you in.” he smiled. “I hate to tell you, but you have lipstick in your eyebrows I think.” he said running his thumb over the red smear. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” you giggled. 

“You gonna keep it on to show the crew in the morning, or do you need help washing it off? I’ll support whatever,” he grinned, turning you around and putting his hand on the lower part of your back as you both looked in the mirror. 

“You know, I think Steve would appreciate seeing how makeup has changed over the years. It’s a nice form of art,” you said tilting your head as you examined the fine artwork done by the youngins. 

“That or give the old man a heart attack,” he said, mocking your tilt of the head. 

“I didn’t give you a heart attack,” you smiled up at him. 

“That’s because I’m very used to your dorkiness.” he kissed your cheek. 

“Awe, trying to suck up after your slip up. How cute...”

“I’m not going to live this down for a while, am I?” he sighed resting his chin on your shoulder now and embracing you from behind. 

“No. No you’re not.” you smiled, but behind it was a deadly promise. “But, like you, I’m not sure this is the right style for me. Doesn’t really fit.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t really scream Y/N.” he nodded. 

“Ok. I’m going to wash this off and then I’ll be ready for bed. If you can’t tell by this alone, it was a very tiring and eventful night.” you sighed warming up the water. 

“Sounds like a plan doll.” he said, giving you one more kiss on the head before heading to the door. “And Y/N/N,” he said before you turned to look at him. “You look gorgeous 25/8. It’s nice to know some of us have a chance with you when you get done up like this.” he grinned.

You let out a single loud laugh before throwing a wash cloth at him as he ran out laughing himself. 

“Punk,” you mumbled, grinning wide as you went back to riding your face of the clown paste.

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies forever:

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[candyheartharry]

Fall Apart - Part II: Bewitched

Author’s note: Hi dolls! 💘 Sorry it took me forever to get the second part up and ready, it took a while to get some inspiration for it, but of course as soon as I got it, I had it done in one day lol. Once again our series playlist can be found here, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list at the end drop me a message and let me know, feedback is EXTREMELY appreciated, happy reading ✨ PART I

Although you and Calum had shared friends, it wasn’t until the two of you started spending more time together that these two groups began to intertwine, but it was going to be just you while he and the band were all around the world on a small promo tour. You’d kept up with him a little while he was away, receiving occasional texts and snapchat videos from wherever he was, usually either a nice picture of the scenery or a video of him and the other guys doing something funny.

It had been a little while since he was away, and you really weren’t too sure when he was supposed to be back due to a few commitments they hadn’t quite confirmed before they left, so the most he could give you before he left was a two week window on when he might possibly be back home again.

In the meantime, one of your friends who worked for an art museum downtown had invited you to an early preview party for a new temporary exhibition that was opening at the museum, so since you had nothing better to do on a Wednesday evening, you got dressed up enough to try to not look out of place among donors to the museum and fancy people who had memberships. Since she worked there she had to be there early, so you were going to be arriving by yourself and meeting her there. As you made your way through the entrance after presenting your guest pass card to the attendant at the welcome desk, you promptly made your way to the bar to help yourself to your one complimentary drink of the evening.

You had tried texting your friend to let her know you were there, but knew that since this was technically a work event for her it might be a little while before she could respond and come say hello. Until then, you decided to take a look around the exhibit that everyone had come to see. Since it was an early preview, it was obviously packed full of people who you never would’ve imagined yourself at a party with. Many people who were leading discussions in small groups crowded around the ornate frames on the wall gave off the obvious vibes that they were professors of some sort, mostly due to their use of words like “tone”, “depth”, and conversations about color choices. Others seemed like doctors, or lawyers, or stockbrokers, or maybe multi-million dollar luxury real estate agents who had so much money they decided to make very large annual donations to the museum in the name of charitable giving. There were of course others who you could tell were just membership holders out for a nice evening, and now that you think about it, you were a little surprised you hadn’t run into any of your other friends, assuming that you weren’t the only one your friend Cora who worked there had invited.

After a while of doing your best to see what types of painting and small sculptures were in this new exhibit over everyone else crowded closely around them, you still hadn’t heard from your friend, so you decided to take a break from listening to conversations about “what this shade of blue here means versus the other shade of blue in this area” and made your way out of the gallery over to the elevators that brought you upstairs earlier. Once you entered the glass elevator, you decided on going up one level to the contemporary floor. When the doors opened one floor above, there was instantly a difference in the atmosphere, not just because this area felt more spacious and open, and the pieces were much larger and not in ornate gold frames, but the first room of the gallery was completely empty with the exception of two security guards who welcomed you once they realized they were no longer alone.

After admiring a few pieces near the entrance, you followed a distant noise across the first room into the next to see where it was coming from. The only sound in the otherwise quiet gallery came from a massive mountain of speakers stacked from the floor to the ceiling, playing very quietly, but playing slightly ominous music overlapped with a few various sound effects and dialogue from movies and TV shows every now and then. Something about how gigantic and illusive this mountain of speakers was drew you in, and you found yourself wanting to stop and listen rather than explore the rest of the empty gallery. Of course, since the gallery was empty due to everyone else being downstairs, the bench across from this colossal structure was empty as well. You decided to take up a seat across from the speakers and recorded a quick video of the scene for your Instagram story. After posting, you put your phone away in the small clutch purse you brought, and decide to enjoy the peace and quiet compared to the party full of people you don’t know that you had just left.

It was nice in its own way, the quiet accented by the almost white noise coming from the speakers. It should be unsettling, but it was almost calming. Something about it felt like it was putting you in a trance, it was something so monumental, it almost felt like it had a secret that if you watched and waited long enough it would let you in on what it knew.

“Mind if I join you?” a familiar voice interrupts your from your thoughts. You look up to your right to see Calum grinning down at you, dressed in a black and white striped shirt that looked very nice on him, and a drink in his own hand. “Oh my god, Calum, hi!” you exclaimed while you instantly broke into a smile of your own after you realized who it was speaking, and rushed to set your drink down on the bench to your left before turning back to open your arms up to him.

He accepted your invitation into your open arms, starting out for a hug before he was even properly seated yet, both of your arms wrapping around his broad back and he squirmed to set his drink next to yours behind your back so he didn’t spill it on you. Once his hands were free they wrapped carefully around you, pulling you closer into him.

“Oh my god, you’re the last person I ever expected to be here, when did you get back?!” you ask once you both pull apart.

“I got back pretty late yesterday! Did you come with anybody else?” he asks as he leans around behind you for the two drinks, handing yours back to you as he holds onto his own.

“No, it’s just me. I didn’t know anybody downstairs so I just came up here,” you told him. It was still just the two of you in the gallery with the speakers, which have gotten his attention. The backing track its playing almost sounds like music that should be playing in a horror movie when the antagonist is introduced, but the overlapping track is a scene from Pride and Prejudice.

“Damn, what’s the first song you’d want to play on these if you got to pick?” he asks, turning to you before he takes a sip of his drink. You look away from him and back up at the towering mountain of speakers across from you both and think about your answer.

“Are we choosing loud songs or sad songs?” you ask, needing to narrow down what type of answer he wants to know.

“Well my answer is by Cigarettes After Sex, so pick something different for variety’s sake.”

“Can I be super cliché and go with The Less I Know The Better, Tame Impala. You said your band, but what’s your song?” you ask, shifting your position a little so that you’re facing him a little more.

“Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby,” he replies, and even though it’s just the name of the song, for some reason hearing the way he says ‘baby’ gives you chills.

“So what brings you up to the contemporary floor in the first place? Didn’t want to hang out with all the art critics downstairs?” you ask to change the subject. “Oh, you posted on your Instagram, so I came to find you,” he replies casually, sending your heart into your throat, so you take a sip of your drink to try to calm down. “Plus some of the Picasso’s downstairs looked like they could’ve also been villains on Courage the Cowardly Dog, so,” he adds with a shrug, making you laugh.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, even though there was so much you both wanted to say. He wanted to tell you every detail about his time away: the cities they went to, the people they got to meet, how he spent time with his mother which made him feel the most like himself he had felt in a while, but he probably wouldn’t tell you about how about halfway into the trip he realized he missed you a little more than he normally missed his friends when he was away. You wanted to ask him all about what he saw in the countries he had left, he always had such a more interesting life than you did, but that wasn’t all you wanted to talk about. You wanted to tell him about how mundane your life was here back at home while he was gone, and that the most interesting thing you had done was meet up with an old friend from your hometown who was passing through on a business trip. You wanted to tell him how ever since he had been gone, you had been hearing his new song on the radio nearly every time you started your car, so it almost felt like his way of saying hello even when he wasn’t around. You wanted to tell him how the barista at the coffee shop inside the bookstore you both liked had asked where your friend was the last time you went, and how you realized you actually felt kind of lonely when you told her that he was out of town. Instead you both just sat in the silence for a little while more, and listened to the mountain of speakers play a scene from the 1996 Romeo and Juliet overlapped with organ music that sounds like it could be in a haunted house.

“I missed you,” he admits after a moment’s silence. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that his left hand is resting on the bench in the space between you two, and when he feels you noticed it he moves his hand ever so slightly closer towards you almost in an invitation that he wants you to take it.

“Sorry, I cant help it that I’m just so charming,” you tease him, nudging him with your shoulder, which makes him laugh and shake his head. When he stops laughing and is just smiling softly at you still, you place your hand on top of his.

“I missed you, too,” you continue more seriously, giving him a soft smile of your own. “The stripes are a nice look, by the way,” you add after not so subtly checking him out. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look fucking amazing, but telling him that word for word would very likely get to his head.

He slides his hand out from underneath yours to properly hold your hand now, leaning down to place his drink on the floor before he guides you to stand up from the bench you had been seated at. “Do you want do dance with me?” he asks once you both are standing.

“Calum, this is literally a sample of a Pink Floyd song and dialogue from Titanic,” you try to oppose, setting your own now empty glass on the bench where you had been sitting. Instead, he guides you into a twirl while he shrugs his own shoulders.

“I know what I said,” he continues, reaching for your other hand and pulling you in so that you both are standing with your elbows bent and your joined hands are level with his chest, so close that if you were to let go you could reach out and touch him, but you knew better than to give in so you kept them safely joined in his in the space between you both.

In the daytime, the gallery is lit up from the natural lighting that the skylights allow, but in the evening, the darkness casts an inky blue across the room, with just a little light coming from the moon and from the occasional spotlights that illuminate certain pieces of the artwork.

“You’re supposed to say that I look nice too, you know,” you playfully point out as Calum guides you both around in a circle in the empty gallery in front of the speakers. He grins down at you before he extends his arm and lets go of your hand to guide you into a twirl again. After he spins you around he doesn’t join both your hands again, and places his free hand on your waist to pull you just a touch closer than you were standing before.

“You know I always think you look nice,” he replies. ‘Nice’ isn’t the word he wants to use, he wants to use amazing, incredible, entrancing, beautiful, captivating, but just ‘nice’ will have to do for now. Distance must have made you both a little bolder, because this evening there seems to have been an unspoken, but mutually recognized tension between you two. Staring into his eyes is almost too intense, even more so once you catch him looking away to glance at your lips for a moment, so you look away yourself to admire another piece in the gallery across the room.

You notice you’ve been in the gallery for so long now that the track on the speakers has looped back to the beginning, when you hear the same scene from Pride and Prejudice playing again. “You have bewitched me, body and soul,” is the first line you notice has started playing back, and you notice as well that Calum has started to look around the room at the other art. You take the moment to admire how he looks in the shadows of the darkness, searching to see if he’s any different now than when you left him. His hair looks like it was recently cut a little shorter, and he’s gone back to black instead of a silvery blonde. You’ve always thought the contrast of the two reminded you of night and day, and now he’s gone back to night.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul,” repeats again, now mixed over the bridge of a Lana Del Rey song you both like. He notices the song and meets your gaze again. He almost asks why you’re staring, but lets it slide in hopes you’ll return the favor eventually and let him do the same someday without questions. This time he’s the one who notices your gaze down to his lips, seeing if his smile still starts on the same side of his mouth that you remember.

He inches his face just a little closer to yours, embracing the boldness he seems to have found in the time he was gone. “Hey,” he says softly in attempt to get your attention. Your eyes flash back up to his, and he notices how where you’re standing allows you to be lit up perfectly in the moonlight.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s unfortunately time to call it a night. Everything wrapped up downstairs a little while ago,” a security guard announces from the archway, causing you to both nearly jump out of your skin in surprise. “Okay, thank you,” Calum nods to the guard. He drops his hand from your waist and takes a few steps back to the bench to pick up your discarded cups. You reach for your clutch purse and hold it in both hands in front of you, following his lead back to the elevators once he asks if you’re ready.

He throws away the cups in a trashcan by the doors after pressing the call button, and shoves his hands into his pockets while you wait. When the doors open, he extends an arm in gesture for you to enter first, and he follows behind before pressing the button for the main floor. In the process, you notice the time on the silver watch on his wrist reads that it’s nearly 11:00 PM, meaning you and him must’ve been up there alone for nearly an hour and a half, and neither of you had realized. You press your back against the glass to try to ground yourself again after whatever that was between you that had just happened back upstairs. He doesn’t turn to you, and instead stays just a step ahead with his back facing you the entire short ride four floors down.

“Did you drive yourself or do you want a ride?” he asks as you two exit the building through the lobby. You both fall in step side by side across the courtyard outside. “Oh, no, it’s fine, I drove myself. Did you park in the deck across the street?” you ask in return.

“Yeah, I’m over in that one, Cora gave me a pass for a reserved spot on the first level with my invite, did she give one to you too?” he replies, referring to your friend who had invited you both in the first place, and ended up never seeing the entire night. You nod in reply as you both make your way to the crossing. You had thought for a moment upstairs he might’ve been about to kiss you or say something at least before you were interrupted, but if he was going to act like everything was normal, so were you.

As you make your way into the parking deck across the street, you notice your cars are both just a few spaces apart from each other. You both stop in the empty spaces between to say goodbye before going your separate ways. “Let me know when you want to get coffee at the bookstore again, it’s been too long since I’ve been able to go,” he says after a moment.

“I’m ready whenever you want to go! The girl who always rings us up was asking about you the last time I was there,” you tell him, which makes him smile. It’s always nice to hear the home misses him just as much as he misses home whenever he’s away.

After you get your keys out of your purse, he holds open his arms to wrap you in a hug before you go, and you step into the space you’ve missed so much while he was gone. You close your eyes as he buries his head against your neck, pulling you in for the most proper hug you’ve had in a long time. You don’t realize it at the time, but the last time you’ve felt so secure and safe while wrapped in someone’s arms was his own the last time you saw him at his house the day before he left for the airport.

“Get home safe,” he requests, rubbing his hand across your shoulders before he lets go. You still feel so electrified from whatever sort of trance you both must’ve fell under in front of the speakers earlier that you can’t let him leave before giving a quick, still friendly and as casual as you can make it kiss to his cheek before you step away from him. You tried to act as if was an old habit between you both, your usual routine whenever you part ways, but you’ve never kissed his cheek before, and you both know it no matter how hard you try to not acknowledge it. Once you’ve stepped back, he doesn’t know what to say, and all he can do is blink at you for a moment.

“Be safe, I’ll see you soon. Let me know once you get home,” he requests again in attempt to snap himself out of it while he takes a step backwards towards his own car. You nod and ask him to do the same, heading around to the driver’s side of your own car in the process. Once you’re both safely in your own cars, you give each other a quick wave from the window before you go your separate ways.

You were all he could think about while he was gone, and now that he’s back it seems that you’ll be all he thinks about while he’s home as well.

tag list: @yessii-i @rexorangecouny @calssunflower @notsooperfect @outofmylimitcal @ayee-style @madbomb

[melyaliz]

@milleniumxhan: 

Hello There! I'm Anshu and this is for the Star Wars OC thing. I'm 5'1, Indian, medium length black hair, middle part swept bangs (always in a ponytail), black cat eye glasses, average build. I'm very expressive and love art. I am also quite reserved and tend to live in my own head but can be very talkative with my close friends. I'm very curious and tend to question everything, however I do stand strong to my own beliefs. For a fun fact about me: I love anything vintage and historical. Thanks!

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Create you into an OC

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST  Note: This was a paid request (it’s $1 to have your request put to the top of the line) 

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Title: Galaxies of Pages  

Fandom: Start Wars 

Pairing: Obi Wan x OC 

Facecast: Freida Pinto

Genres:  Sweet Romance with action-adventure. (Think Indian Jones meet’s a Nicholas Sparks novel) 

Summary: Anshu aways read about adventures but never through she fit into them. Better to help those who were heroes than become one herself. 

Or that was what she told herself until a fellow young Jedi helped her see she could be a hero herself. 

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Anshu was a librarian for the Jedi order. Studying the art to become a Jedi herself -and a quite powerful one at that- she decided instead of becoming a warrior she would dedicate herself to preserving the arts and knowledge that the Jedi holds so dear. 

Fun day stuff. Anshu going about the Jedi temple (Belle style nose in a book) 

Bumps into Obi Wan

FlashBack 

The two of them training and baby Obi want pulling her hair teasing her for always reading.

“If you always have your nose in the book how will you ever see the real world?” “Maybe my books are better.” “Well, I’m in the real world so it’s better. And I’m going to be an amazing Jedi and if you keep reading you’ll miss it.”

Obi Wan makes fun of her slightly. They catch up and he asks about finding some maps Qui Gon needs. 

They explore the library and chat and Obi Wan admits as he got older he admires the life of a scholar. Anshu feels so flattered and a bit flushed over his praise of her work.

“The Libary has never been so easy to use. You have done such amazing work here.” 

Cute banter back and forth

He tells her he is going with Qui Gon to help Naboo with the Trade federation 

Episode one stuff 

He visits her for a few moments After Anakin is being tested and tells her about how Qui Gon has suggested he start the trails 

He seems like he wants to tell her something else but he gets cut off by a youngling telling him that Qui Gon wants him. They are going back to Naboo 

The next time she see’s him Qui Gon has died 

She meets him late at night just wondering through the halls. She tells him she heard and asks how he is.

He breaks down crying and telling her about how he can’t sleep thinking about what he could have done. 

She sits with him until he has cried himself out. 

Throughout the years

She becomes good friends with Aniken as well and will listen to their fights 

During this time she starts to notice how things seem strained at the Jedi temple. Something seems to be holding the Jedi back. Clouding their judgment. 

She realizes that the rules of the Jedi were starting to hold them back and not helping them grow. It was one thing to understand and learn from history but it was another to live there. 

More cute moments with Obi. She calls him Ben as a joke/nickname. It’s her special name for him. 

Episode 2

Obi Wan goes to her for help with finding the Clone planet. 

She tells him it doesn’t exist but is confused why and digs deeper while Obi Wan goes to check it out. 

Realizes that something dark is happening. Something bad.

Anshu collecting some of the most sacred texts copying them and taking Journey’s to hide them. 

For the first time, she is going to see the galaxies she had only read about 

More build-up between the Sith and Jedi

Anshu travels to different planets and has many hiding spots. Lots of codes and puzzles to hide books that she never wants to be used for evil. 

The more Anshu travels she realizes something is wrong. There is something sinister below the Order. Something bad is about to happen. She can feel it.

Order 66

Anshu is calling her Jedi master from the library when Anakin attacks

She tries to call other Jedi but it’s too late. So she rushes into hiding wondering what is happening and praying her friends made it out in time. 

Years later 

Anshu is now traveling undercover still finding texts and scripts 

Runs into Obi-wan

Thinks he’s a bad guy and attacks him 

They fight until she realizes who it is and that he is still good

She hugs him almost crying unable to believe he’s alive. 

Tells him about how she’s looking for a book that was lost and how she has a map to find it. 

He says he will help her.

Lots of Indian Jones adventures 

Lots of silly getaways

Romance starts to blossom 

 Anshu finds a place to hide her texts 

They travel to the planet Luke hid on 

Lots of near-misses almost getting caught by the growing empire 

Obi wan helps her find the panet 

They both sit on the beach looking out and he tells her about Luke and Leia. 

Almost kiss

She tells him she wants to help as she can

He leaves to live on Tatooine 

Anshu goes to visit him and asks for his help

He tells her he is going by Ben now

Cute little conversation about that

They go on an adventure together

Stops by to see baby luke first

Adventure 

They go find more missing Jedi stuff

Hide from an empire brigade 

He kisses her

They go back to Tatooine 

Little Luke is in trouble 

Some sand people kidnapped him 

Obi Wan and Anshu save him 

Obi Wan says he needs to stay here and protect the most precious Jedi treasure 

Anshu says she understands and says she will be around 

They visit each other 

Over the years she will come and tell him of her adventures. 

She also checks on little Leia 

Watches Luke grow up 

Obi Wan tells her he loves her and there is lots of fluff / Romance

Helps with Rogue One 

Tells Leia that they need Obi Wan

Goes off to find some information on the Empire 

Has been helping the rebels in secret.

End

She is traveling the world getting some crystals and information 

Retires to her hotel room excited to go home 

Has a dream of Obi Wan telling her how much he loves her and then he disappears. 

She wakes up and realizes 

Obi Wan died. 

Goes back to Tatooine 

Lives there in peace until one day she see’s a young woman standing by Luke’s old home 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Ray Skywalker” 

And she knows everything will be alright. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Forever tag:  @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku​ @xx3fsxx​ @daisyboobear​ @  @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr​ @ocelysium​ @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8​

[galaxyacerodoesart]

As I promised, more Sanderstuck Panel edits, this time featuring Remy, Emile and Dolian (AKA. Deceit) 

More about my Sanderstuck AU can be find under my sanderstuck tag HERE! And under read more, is the dialogue of the situation going on in the panel, in case anyone is interested in knowing what would be going on behind it, and a little more about some of the events in the AU! :o

If anyone seeing this would like to be tagged in any future Sanderstuck art, please let me know! 

DOLIAN: Let’s face it Princey, despite going around saying how strong and great you are, you are one of the weakest people in this team, and that’s just facts~ ROMAN: WHY YOU- DOLIAN: I mean, if we want to talk about power, Remy would be the most powerful being in this team, seeing he LITERALLY ascended to god status already and not only has ACTUAL powers, but is also pretty much immortal at this point. REMY: idk if you can call me powerful tho, i mean, i literally have no idea how i even reached god-tier gurl REMY: … I literally have no idea, one moment I was good old me, the other i was in a stone bed bleeding to death, and in one more I was back to life with this clothes and wind going wild all around me. REMY: so yeah, i don’t think i can take much credit? i don’t feel like a worked to reach this status or anything so- DOLIAN: Why, see?! Remy doesn’t even KNOW how he did it, and yet, there he is. Started from zero, all the way to hero. DOLIAN: While you are still aaaall the way down here. No powers, no powerful weapon, just the old pathetic Roman.  DOLIAN: I know you are trying to reach the god-tier status, don’t think no one noticed.  DOLIAN: you struggle and struggle, but still, at this rate you will probably be the last one to get any power. IF you even get it DOLIAN: You might just die before it, after all :) EMILE: NOW NOW EVERYONE! Let’s not say things like that, okay? Dol, we talked about this right? Everyone has their time! We can still do great despite not have ascended to god-tier, no problem! EMILE: There is no need to fight, we are ALL working together after all! And I know we will reach god-tier whenever we need to! The fact Remy had ascended already just means it was his time, even if he isn’t sure how he did it, and yet, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have work to improvement, right?! Remy, you aren’t even entirely sure how you powers work, isn’t that true? REMY: i sure don’t. All I know is how to fly and i’m pretty sure that’s like, basic to literally any god-tier, not just because my aspect is breath.  EMILE: See? The fact he has ascended already, doesn’t put him in a pedestal! We can always improve, Remy surely still will, and who knows, perhaps he still won’t be sure how his powers work by the time Roman ascends. EMILE: But still, who says we even need to? I’m sure as long as we work our hardest and give our best, we can beat this game and reach peace! God-tier or not!  REMY: also i’m pretty sure i can still die? like, there is certain conditions, but i remember one of the lil carapace guys mentioning something REMY: i don’t really remember all they said tho, lil guy was talking pretty fast, like he had to get away from there quick, he just mentioned a clock and something like REMY: “Heroic” or “Just” death being the only way to get rid of me??? so yeah, i don’t really understand it, but there clearly is a way to get rid of someone even if they reached god-tier status REMY: so yeah. I definitely can stil die lol EMILE: See Dolian? Everyone still got to work hard to beat this, but most importantly, we have to stay together! We are a team, like it or not. DOLIAN: *sigh* Yes, yes… I get it. DOLIAN: … Doesn’t mean I am entirely wrong in what I said though…  DOLIAN: I still haven’t ascended to God-tier, but let’s not forget who was able to pull dear Virgil out of the void in the first place, hmm~? DOLIAN: Say Roman, where where you when Virgil was almost being consumed by the void? Crying in a corner faced with the reality of not being able to save him, or still trying to hold onto the idea you are the “leader” of this team? Because trying to get him out of there, you certainly were not.  DOLIAN: So really, do us all a favor, and stop trying so hard to be a leader for this team, you are far from one. ROMAN: … EMILE: Dolian, ple- DOLIAN: I’m sure Patton would be a better leader, and he literally doesn’t have the heart to even kill a single Imp, despite his life being at risk. EMILE: Dolian- DOLIAN: And I mean, Logan? That’s someone who knows what he is doing. I’m sure if anyone saw our team without knowing us before hand, they would be sure he was in charge here, because let’s be real…he is, Isn’t he~ EMILE: DOLIAN. THAT’S ENOUGH.  DOLIAN: I’m just- EMILE: PLEASE… Just…Please… I’M asking you to stop. You already made your point. DOLIAN: … DOLIAN: Sure. You are right Emile. There is no reason for me to keep beating a dead horse.  EMILE: Dol- DOLIAN: I’ll just go back to my room, like you said, I DID Make my point already. So, I’ll take my leave. See you all around~

—DOLIAN Left the conversation— 

EMILE: …I…I’m sorry Roman. It wasn’t right of him to say such things. I have been talking to him, I promise! He seems to be making progress every now and then, but suddenly out of nowhere he just- EMILE: …does things like that. ROMAN: …It’s not your fault Emile, it’s mine… He isn’t wrong after all. EMILE: Roman, no! Don’t let what he says get to you, it’s what he wants after all. And it is partly my fault, i’m his therapist after all… Got to take responsability for when he acts like this.  ROMAN: BUT STILL! What he said wasn’t a lie… I am not a leader, I act like one, but anyone in this place has more leadership than I could even dream of! And I HAVE been trying to reach God-tier, I thought- I think that perhaps then, I will be able to do more? I’m suppose to be the Space player of this team, one of the most important parts of the game, but all I do is mess things up! ROMAN: We almost lost the crucial part, that was our time player, but most importantly, OUR FRIEND because I was just thinking about me and trying to make ME be the big hero in this! ROMAN: The universe and everything we knew is GONE, and i keep acting like this is just any other game. If we fail, it’s game over forever. Everything is done for. And it will be all because I couldn’t stop to look around me. REMY: …Dude. REMY: even I know that is all bullshit REMY: pardon my potty mouth, btw REMY: but seriously. You? Not caring about others?? Stop believing Old Dolly lies, gurl REMY: you are putting yourself in the front to make sure no one you care about gets hurt REMY: sure, you messed up with V, but no one is saying you need to be perfect, nobody is perfect. Don’t let Hannah lie to you, she is full of lies.  REMY: you tried so much to get V away from the void, and kept keeping everyone spirits up when they started to think there was no way of doing it REMY: no joke, i’m almost sure even Pat was starting to give up on seeing Virgil again REMY: sure, in the end Dolly was the one to successfully bring Virgil back to us, but let’s be real. he have no idea how he did it, and probably only got as far as he did because of the natural connection with the void that he has for being both, a void player and a derse dreamer REMY: so yeah, don’t be so hard on yourself man, you might be making mistakes, but you are learning from them and improving every day REMY: you are doing pretty great, if we didn’t think so, someone would have said something already REMY: ya’know, someone that isn’t Dolly, lol  EMILE: I couldn’t have said better myself, Remy! ROMAN: I… Thank you guys. The support is appreciated… REMY: no worries R-man, we’re here for you~!  EMILE: Just keep believing in yourself Roman! You are a great leader! We are sure to beat this game and save everything! REMY: heck yeah, my man. ROMAN: I’ll make sure to remember that… Really, thank you, both of you… EMILE: You can count with us! 

—END OF CHATLOG.—

[futurewriter2000]

Potion

A/N: Oh my god I am so freaking proud of this one and I’m so glad my writers block didn’t ruin it. Also this one is my first severus one and I know I said that it Will probably come after Thursday but this is just..it couldn’t wait.

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Slytherin reader

REQUEST: Do you think you could write a random Snape x reader fic? XP

TAGS: @shadyladyperfection, @geeksareunique, @huflerin

How long? How long have you been in Slytherin and never in all your years of attending Hogwarts have you not noticed a boy crushing on you. Ambitious, cunning, resourceful, determined, clever and more amongs other things. You were the definition of a true Slytherin.

And him. Who was he to be in your lane? 

Never has he took eyes off of you. Your bright smile, blessing the Slytherin table with its light. It was almost addicting. 

“Severus!” snapped Regulus, waving his hand in front of Severus and breaking his gaze from you. “Honestly mate, you need to stop with that.”

“Stop with what?” replied Severus surprisingly, his voice low and cold.

“Don’t play daft, Snape. We all know you like her. I think even she know that.” winked Regulus and put another spoonful of soup in his mouth.

Wait. Was he really being this obvious about his feeling towards you? He couldn’t have been. He hid them pretty good for Lilly, what makes it so different from now? he wondered while his eyes stuck on you.

That’s excatly when you turned your gaze away from your friends and made an eye contact with Snape. His eyes widened in shock as you were literally seeing him, not through him, but seeing him. Placing even a bigger smile on your lips you waved at him and looked back at your friend.

“Severus...” grumbled Regulus as he glared at his friend for gripping his hand tightly and spilling the soup from the spoon on his robes.

“ Sorry.” he mumbled quietly as he let go of Regulus’ arm. To be honest Severus was never good with girls. Being the main victim of infamous Marauders and their pranks, most people from other houses thought of him as a freak. His house on the other hands, saw him as a brilliant mind with a great talent for Potions and the Dark Arts. Except he didn’t know that and the only attention he ever got from a girl was you right now at this very moment. He felt his heart rate growing faster and faster, while his cheeks coloured his pale skin pink.

“I think I just witnessed Severus Snape melt for a girl for the first time.” snickered Regulus and immediatly got an ugly look from Snape.

“Oi, (y/n)!” yelled the boy with dark curls and gorgeous grey green eyes, making you slightly blush as he ran closer to you.

You couldn’t figure out what his name was but being a pureblood yourself you definetly knew his surname. Every strong pureblood family was connected with eachother and you definetly knew this boy as a member of the Black family. 

“Black.” you greeted, pulling your books tighter to your chest with a small smile appearing in the corner of your lips.

“Please, call me Regulus.” he smiled, making your cheeks grow roses after hearing his lovely voice.

“Regulus, right.” you replied, trying to seal that name in your brain. “So how can I help you Regulus?”

“Well as a big fan of Potions, that I am, I am even bigger fan of your friend you are partnered with.” he grinned and walked along side you. “So I was thinking if you would be a dear and-”

“Switch up partners for you.” you finished his sentance. It wasn’t hard to figure out where it was leading but you had to admit to yourself you were a bit disappinted. Regulus was handsome, everybody knew that but if he was interested in your best friend, who would you be if you didn’t help your best friend score a hot date. “Of course Regulus. Just know that if you hurt her I will ruin you.” you smiled jokingly and walked away.

“Thats rubbish! You couldn’t hurt a pretty face like this in a million years.”he grinned and started walking backwards, further away from you.

“No beauty is forever Black. Remember that!” you shouted back and walked into your next class. 

‘Damn those Blacks and their charm. Just like his brother.’ 

“You did what?!” whispered Severus to Regulus as they stood at the table.

“Don’t be such a wuss Snape. It’s just a potion, not a wedding. Now as soon as she comes in you are gonna put on your best smile and you are going to woo her and ask her out.” demanded Regulus, putting his hands on Severus shoulders and looking him deep in the eyes.

“No I will not! Do you know what you di-” he spoke angrly but was interrupted by the bell and incoming students filling up the classroom.

“Saved by the bell. Make me proud.” grinned Regulus, tapping Severus on the back and walking away from him.

“No! Reg-” he whisper-yelled but was interrupted by you walking closer to him and making him shut up immediatly.

You placed your books on the desk and looked up to Severus. Knowing he was Regulus’ partner you never worried about today. You always saw Snape as a brilliant student yet a bit mysterious, which always made you a bit curious. “Hello Severus.” you greeted him with a lovely smile gracing your lips.

God he was about to melt to hearing his name come from your lips. “Umm...hello.” he mumbed out, trying to sound as normal as he could but you could notice the high pitch voice.

It was no secret that Severus Snape liked you. Your friends kept teasing you about him and you caught him watching you from time to time. But to be honest, he did seem to catch your attention every single time. He was quiet, yet quite a smart-mouth when he was asked a question. Sometimes you saw him read a book under a linden tree, sitting there and looking so peaceful. Those times all you wanted to do was walk over there just to get a bit quiet and peace, away from all the noise. You never listened to the rumors, true or not, you always judged a person after you met them. And Severus, he was quite handsome. His interest in the Dark Arts made girls swoon and not only that but every girl in your house wanted to know his secret. His deep and dark secret that nobody figured out what it was, just few of his closest friends. His mysteriousness, brilliance and fraternity sure made him a catch, whether he knew it or not.

Severus Snape. This is sure going to be interesting.

When the two of you were working on your potion, you couldn’t help yourself but to observe his features. His dark eyes were focused on the book and reading through the ingridients while his neck-length hair fell before him. They weren’t greasy as the Marauders and others teased him about. They were normal, black long hair, washed or not, they were still looking quite attractive on him.

This time he noticed your eyes on him so he looked at you from the corner of his eyes and a sly smirk quickly formed as he spoke. “ Can’t focuse?”

You shook your head as you heard him say that, knowing he must have known you stared at him for too long. “Um...well.. “ you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up and your heart beat faster. “I was just...yeah, you caught me.” you then smiled, knowing you couldn’t get out of this situation.

He was surprised to hear you say that. His crush was just staring at him. Were you checking him out too? I mean, maybe the bunn but what girl doesn’t check that. ;)

“Here. Let me show you.” he smiled and moved away from the couldron.

“Show me what?” you asked him while you moved closer to the couldron with Doxy eggs laying in front of you. 

“I get Regulus with not doing all the work, but it’s definetly not going to be the same with you.” he smiled and stepped behind you. 

As soon as you felt him stand behind you, you felt warmth wash over you. He wasn’t touching you, no, but his presence made your lungs squeeze and your heart beat faster. Feeling his breath on your neck, you couldn’t help yourself but to get even more distracted than before.

“Got it?” he asked and you suddenly realised you haven’t paid any attention to a word he spoke to you right now.

“Can you repeat one more time. I’m still a bit confused.” you replied and tried not to look at him.

“Yeah, sure.” he smirked as he knew you got distracted once again. Maybe because of him, maybe not, but today you sure weren’t your usual self.  “See the colour of the potion. It’s still too bright, so to get the exact colour we want to, which is blue, we’ll have to add the doxy eggs. Now usually, the right amount is a fist-full, but I believe it will cause more damages, so I usually take half of that.” he explained, this time his voice low and attractive as it was coming right behind your ear.

“Umm...okay.” you replied taking a fistfull of doxy eggs. Hearing his chuckle behind you, you realized you must have done something wrong. “What?” you smiled.

“You just did the opposite of what I told you.” he chuckled and reached over to your palm. “Here let me.” 

You let go of the doxy eggs and slowly let them fall on his hand until there was half of them left. He put away his, getting them back in the bowl and he reached to your hand one more time. He gently took a hold of your hand, lifting it up and leading it towards the couldron. He didn’t even know his other hand was on your waist, but you sure did and you liked it. Looking over your shoulder you noticed his eyes fixed on the potion and you immediatly turned your gaze back to your holding hands. His hand was much bigger than yours, his slim fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, while his palm supporting your arm. 

“Now slowly drop them in.” he spoke, almost in a whisper.

And you did. You let him take all the lead and you dropped your doxy eggs, slowly one by one, while your potion soon turned its colour into beautiful bright blue. Looking over your shoulder one more time, you caught him smiling at the finished potion. It was the first time you saw him smile like that. Like a real, true smile.

You turned around, only inches apart from him, and looked up. “Severus?” 

He looked down, finally snapping back from his dream world of passion and potions to reality of you being really close to him by now. He realized he had his hand on your waist, so he quickly removed it and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to you know...I just kind of forgot while I got lost in the potion. You know I always have a thing for that and how perfect it needs to be..I just kind of forgot-”

“Severus.” you giggled as he continued to ramble on.

“It was just Regulus and sayins how I need to ask you out cuz I’ve kind of liked you for a long time and I just don’t know how to say it correctly becasue I’ve never-”

“Severus!” you said a bit louder  than before, shutting him up and taking another step closer. “Ask me.” you smiled, looking up to his dark eyes and putting away a strand of your hair.

Ask you? Ask you wh-oooh. he suddenly realized what you meant. He fixed his tie and put away his hair. “(y/n)(y/l/n), Will you go on a date with me?” 

“I would love to.”

[maybe-theres-hope]

Truly Worthy

A Captive Prince fic by MaybeTheresHope

Summary:  Kings Laurent and Damianos of the Empire of New Artes have lived a long, peaceful, wonderful life. They meet their end together, their bodies giving out peacefully in old age. They are happy, fulfilled. But once they cross the threshold, they find themselves transported to a different place entirely. Is it the afterlife? Or something more? And they soon find they are not the only ones, and that makes it even better.

Rating: General Audiences Length: 3022 Tags: Reincarnation, Canon Compliant, Character Death BUT NOT REALLY, Fix-it Sort of, it’s super happy i swear

Read on AO3 here

Damen feels like he’s going to hurl. The whooshing sounds, the falling feeling, the vertigo, they’re all working in concert to make him believe that this is absolutely the worst feeling he has ever felt, and he’s already died, damnit.

He barely remembers dying. He was lying in bed with Laurent, his husband of nearly fifty six years—who still looked as beautiful as the day Damen had realized he loved him, and he knew it was coming. Laurent looked just as tired as he’d felt, and Damen had pulled him close with the last strength he’d had. He’d nearly felt the moment it happened, when he’d passed from one realm to the next, and all he’d been able to think was that he hoped he’d still be with Laurent.

“I think I’m going to puke,” were the first words he heard out of his husband’s mouth, echoing his own sentiments. Damen whirled around to look at him, struck anew by his otherworldly beauty.

Laurent looked much like he had at nearly thirty. His hair was skimming the middle of his back, the lines on his face were laugh lines and they were considerably less deep than the last Damen remembered of them. His eyes were bright, his skin vibrant, his hair the darker honey gold it had been when he was young and not the pure lily white it had been when they’d last looked at each other.

“Is this the afterlife? Is this what they say when they talk about the heavens?” were the next words out of Laurent’s mouth, and he was looking at Damen almost…hungrily.

Damen took stock of his own body and noticed that yes, he was back in the same physical condition he’d been in at about thirty-five. His skin was also tight and barely lined, and he could name the light scars on his arms and legs as those coming from sparring with Nikandros and occasionally Laurent himself.

Laurent was on him then. Fingers were tracing up the hard planes of his chest, skimming over his collarbones, and falling down the bulges of his biceps with wonder.

“I’d almost forgotten these,” Laurent quipped playfully.

“I’ve never forgotten this,” Damen replied, touching Laurent’s face.

“So it’s over, then. We’re gone,” Laurent finally said after a few moments.

“Yes, I think so. But…where are we now?”

“If my calculations are correct, and they always are,” came a voice from over Damen’s shoulder, “we are now in Los Angeles, California. The better question is when.”

They both turned to face a young woman, clad in the most garish garb Damen had ever seen. Her top was black and ripped to shreds, as if she’d been clawed by a lion. Her trousers weren’t much better, holes at the knees from what looked like years of wear and tear. Maybe they were hand-me-downs? Her hair was a most unnatural shade of red, like ripe apples, that nearly glowed in the dim light of the room.

“Look, I’m going to give you, like, the simplified version? You’ve done wonders of good in your life, so you’re being rewarded.” She flipped her short cropped hair from her face. “The powers that be have given you ever-lasting happiness, yada yada.”

“I’m sorry…what?” Laurent asked, inarticulate as Damen had ever heard him.

She sighed as if she was being greatly put-upon by their stupidity, which Laurent inevitably noticed, because he huffed in return. Damen’s husband didn’t like not being the most knowledgeable one in a room, and that had never changed.

“You have changed history for the better. Your actions made an impact on the world that set in motion a chain of events that led to good. You are being given the chance to enjoy that world, forevermore, if you want it. All people who fit the criteria do.”

“Are you a mage of some kind?” Damen asked delicately.

“Seriously most people just take the deal and get on with their second life,” she replied. “Also, the word ‘witch’ doesn’t have nearly the connotations it used to, so you’re fine with using that term for me if you want.”

“Just…just wait a moment,” Laurent implored them, holding up a hand. His fingers were strong and fine and not the withered, nearly unusable things they’d been closer to his passing. Damen was mesmerized all over again. “Are you saying we’ve been…reborn?”

“Reborn, reincarnated, given a second chance, whatever you wanna call it,” she quipped.

“Because we made a difference in history?” he prodded.

“Because you significantly changed history in the direction of good,” she clarified. “This is the highest honor that can be bestowed by the boss, and only those who are truly worthy get a chance at it. You were in a timeline that was destined for disaster, a massive war and subsequent dictatorship by an absolute shitstain of a man, if my history knowledge serves me correctly. And you two took the recipe of fate and turned it on its head. Are you really as in love as the books say?”

“Yes,” Damen answered, before Laurent could say anything or before either of them could really put together what she was actually saying.

“Then that’s what did it. Your love changed the world. Congrats, my dudes.” She smiled witheringly at them.

“And we get to, what, live out our lives again now? In this…Los Angeles?” Laurent pronounced it carefully.

“You get to live forever. If you accept. No growing old, no hardship—your finances are in order, that’s part of the deal, so you can, like, live however you want. Probably not like Kings, though, if you wanna stay under the radar. People nowadays have wild fantasies about immortals like Keanu Reeves and such, but like, you probably wanna keep your everlasting youth on the DL if you don’t want Oprah calling or something.”

Damen hoped Laurent understood at least some of that, because he was baffled. He was also stuck on the forever part.

“We’re immortal.” Laurent said.

“Yes.”

“We will live problem-free for the rest of eternity, looking like we do now, without any consequences.”

“Yes. Well…you also probably want to steer clear of going back to your home country. For like, at least a couple hundred more years. No one in America or Canada or like, Norway knows your story but…you’re legends in modern New Artes. The people tell stories about you to their children. Lovers use lines from your letters to woo each other. It’s sweet actually. But like, there’s a giant portrait of the two of you in the Palace at Marlas, and people might think ghosts are among us if you walk through there on the tour or something.”

“The one painted on our wedding day,” Damen mused.

“Yep, that’s the one. So like, can you guys make a decision so I can get on to helping other people? They’re dying every day in every time period, you know.”

Damen turned back to Laurent and put his hands on his shoulders. “What do you think?” he asked, because Laurent was always the better planner and decision maker. He could see all angles. Even now Damen could see his mind working over all the minute details rapidly.

“I think we should take it. It sounds like bliss,” he finally said, gazing up at Damen and looking for all the world like he’d looked the first time they’d said I love you out loud.

“Yeah? You want to live forever in a strange world with no friends and no one but me to keep you company?”

“Oh! That’s the other thing. There is someone here already that you might know. I’m supposed to take you straight to him. He’s here at the club right now, but he has no idea about you two. I hope he’s as amenable as the boss said he’d be. I’ve never met him, didn’t work on his case.”

“Someone we know? Who took this deal as well?” Damen asked.

“Yeah, he’s a looker, too. Had to pull some strings for his appearance though, on his request. He wanted…well, I guess you’ll see. Usually we put you in the body that represents your prime. His we had to basically conjure out of thin air. But we’re good,” she finished smugly.

“Fine. Let’s do it,” Damen said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah. We’ll take it,” Laurent declared.

“Wonderful! I love a happy beginning!” The girl hopped off the box she’d been perched on for the duration of their conversation, and turned to a door neither one of them had noticed before. As soon as it opened, they were hit with a wave of sound that nearly knocked Damen off his feet. He could feel it in his bones like the pounding of a thousand hooves. It was heavy and throbbing, surrounding them completely.

As they walked, Damen took in the flashing of color along the walls, as if the paint were shifting every few seconds to a different hue. As they walked down a hallway, one side opened up like a balcony to reveal a writhing mass of bodies moving to the beat of what must have been music, though it was nothing like any music Damen had ever heard. He thought it might be right at home in Vere, were restraint was most certainly not prized, and he chuckled to himself. He was starting to get used to it.

“He’s just through here, in VIP. He took his paycheck and ran with it, if you know what I mean. The guy loves opulence but from what I hear he’s a sweetheart, so.” She continued through another hallway, out into a makeshift room that was surrounded on all sides by various booths with tables, groups of people shoved into them nearly on top of each other despite the fact there was plenty of space to be had. Yes, this definitely reminded him of Vere, but not in a bad way, he was coming to realize.

“He’s just over there!” She shouted above the din. “Blue shirt, white pants, brown hair. Enjoy your life!” And with that she was off, disappearing through the crowd and the music.

Damen craned his neck for someone who fit her description, and it turned out ‘white pants’ was the best giveaway. He spotted the man at a far booth, seated with only one other person. Their apparent acquaintance looked relaxed with the other man’s arm around him. They would talk into each other’s ear every few seconds, apparently trying to hold a conversation above the noise. From this distance he looked about twenty, brown tousled hair and light eyes.

As they walked closer, Damen felt the niggling in the back of his mind of recognition, but he couldn’t entirely place the man in his memory. When they were about ten feet away, their acquaintance looked their direction, and froze.

His face paled in what looked like horror and, Damen noticed with some confusion, guilt. Laurent had stepped up to the table, and Damen watched from beside him as his face slowly, slowly, grew into a relieved and exuberant smile.

The man looked for a moment more, before nearly scrambling over the table towards Laurent, landing in his outstretched arms and burying his face in Laurent’s neck. They hugged each other so tightly that Damen was worried for their respiration.

The man lifted his face from Laurent’s neck to look up at Damen with wide eyes, and it hit him. Those same slightly scared, unsure eyes, innocent despite his experience, that Damen remembered in a hallway in the dead of night. Don’t tell him I came.

“How? Am I dreaming?” Nicaise breathed into Laurent’s hair, still looking at Damen.

“No, you’re not dreaming. We’re here. We’re here now,” Laurent was saying, soothing in the shared space between them, still hugging Nicaise tightly like if he let go Nicaise would disappear.

Nicaise pulled back slightly then, looking between the two of them with a hurt expression. “Did he…did he get you too?” He looked on the verge of tears.

“No, no Nicaise, he didn’t,” Laurent said, hands still on Nicaise’s shoulders, lingering in the touch, the proof that he was there.

“But…you’re dead, right? That’s how you’re here? I ended up here when I died.”

“Yes, but you were given the deal, right?” Damen said. Nicaise nodded.

Because you significantly changed history in the direction of good the girl had said. This is the highest honor that can be bestowed by the boss, and only those who are truly worthy get a chance at it.

“We’re here, but not because he got us,” Damen said, coming to place a hand on Nicaise’s shoulder next to Laurent’s. “We lived. We won. We ruled a combined empire in peace and prosperity, for over fifty years,” he said, leaning in and moving his hand up to cup Nicaise’s face. “Because of you. Because of your bravery, the whole country survived to live in peace.”

Laurent had remained silent, and Nicaise looked to him for clarification. He simply nodded.

“You are a hero, Nicaise. We made sure the record books reflected that,” Damen added.

At this, Nicaise buried his face in Laurent’s hair again, his shoulders shaking. Laurent just wrapped his arms around him again, hugging him close.

After a while, Nicaise pulled back again, completely out of Laurent’s arms for the first time. “Okay, so wait. This is really true?” he asked, almost accusatory, gesturing between the two of them. “The two of you?”

“Yes?” Damen said, uncertain.

“He told me, right before he sent me to the executioner. He told me you were Damianos the prince-killer, and he was going to watch—watch Laurent destroy himself over it. That he was going to enjoy it. That Laurent had already fallen for you before you left for the border, it was going to ruin him when he found out.”

“I think we can discern who the more intellectually capable one is between him and me, can’t we?” Laurent said with a small smile.

“You knew?” Nicaise asked, looking surprised.

“Come on. It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Laurent replied, his smile growing.

“Well, I can’t say I understand it but…” He turned to Damen. “I’m willing to accept your presence for eternity if he does.”

“I sure hope he does. He vowed it a long time ago,” Damen said, his smile growing as well when he looked back to Laurent.

“Ugh, okay, gross, stop there with the mushy stuff,” Nicaise whined.

“So. Forever?” Laurent asked the two of them.

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan,” Nicaise answered.

Damen just pulled them both close, content in the knowledge that Nicaise did not have a fork available at the moment.

For the next few months, Nicaise helped them acclimate to the modern world. He showed them how to set up credit cards—to look normal, he said, people didn’t use cash or coin nowadays—and how to use technology. Laurent, as expected, took to the iPhone immediately, and his favorite app was a game in which he used his thumbs on either side of the screen to line up virtual archery shots. Damen lost track of his record-breaking score quickly. Laurent had also been absolutely floored and near tears when Nicaise taught him how to put digital versions of books on his device. He now carried an entire library in his pocket at all times.

Damen, on the other hand, had become a museum hermit. He’d spend hours and hours, sometimes alone and sometimes with one or the both of them, just looking at the intervening history between the time he came from and the one he lived in now. Not much of it was very relevant, since it didn’t pertain to Akielos, Vere, or New Artes, but it was fascinating. There were priceless paintings that were younger than he was, but revered as nearly timeless. There were old weapons and new ones, exhibits of inventions over the course of time. Whatever city they visited, whether it was a metropolitan area or a small ghost town, Damen found some kind of museum to peruse. The other two let him be most of the time, content to keep their noses buried in their phones while he wandered.

They spent years upon years together, living in different cities and different countries around the world. When they’d finally decided to chance a trip to New Artes, it had been nearly a century.

Entering the palace at Marlas felt almost like coming home. It, too, was a museum now, the government converted to a democracy some decades back. There was still a sitting monarch in title only, a direct descendant of Nikandros. They’d written into the law that in the absence of heirs of their own, the Kings could cede inheritance to the family of the Kyros of Ios.

They saw the painting, stared at it for what seemed like an age. Damen looked at the portrait and back to Laurent in succession two or three times. He’d always thought the painting hadn’t done him justice, but it was after all impossible to encompass Laurent’s beauty in two dimensions.

Also on display, much to their amazement since they hadn’t known it had been saved, was the letter from Paschal’s brother, the one Nicaise had given his life in order to see it delivered into good hands. Nicaise spent a lot of time at that exhibit, running his fingers over the glass that encased it silently.

As they exited into the bustling streets thronging with people, Damen heard his name called. He immediately seized up in fear—the girl had told them to avoid this place, after all. But in the next second, Damen felt all the breath leave him as he turned and saw the source of the call.

Running at him, dodging people and androids alike on the sidewalk, was Nikandros. They collided with brute force, clutching each other tightly.

“My brother. I just knew I’d be seeing you again someday,” Damen whispered into his neck.

[noorakardemmomesaetre]

Southside High

Chapter Three

Or read it on Ao3 

Chapter One, Chapter Two

Pairing: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones 

warning: some underage drinking in this chapter. 

Summary: Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it. -Sara Gruen

“Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones, please report to the principal’s office immediately.”

Betty sits in one of two worn-down faux leather chairs facing her principal, hands clasped neatly in her lap, waiting for Jughead to arrive.  Her initial thought that she had been called to the office for some sort of award or acknowledgement had been quickly extinguished by the second name listed in the announcement.

And Jughead Jones…

Yeah, this is definitely not good.

Glancing at her watch, she sighs impatiently as Principal Johnson continues looking through a few files on her desk.

Does he even care that he’s being called to the principal’s office or is this just a normal occurrence for him? Her irritation is mounting as the first few minutes of her English class pass by without her.

Ten minutes later, Jughead saunters in, dropping his satchel to the ground before sitting in the chair next to Betty and folding his arms.

No acknowledgement of either her, their principal, or the amount of Betty’s time he has just clearly wasted.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Mr. Jones.”

Principal Johnson peers over her spectacles at Jughead before continuing, “I’m sure you two are wondering why you’re here. Can either of you explain these?”

She pulls out two posters, one, a makeshift clipArt black and white piece of printer paper for Southside High’s student newspaper and another, a photo paper, color, original art for Southside High’s newest student newspaper.

Betty bites the inside of her cheek, stealing a glance at the guy who has become her arch-enemy, unsure if she should say something.

He has one leg kicked out in front of him and the way his jacket rests open underneath his crossed arms reveals only a white wife beater tank top. Drawing her lip between her teeth and turning her focus back to their principal, she can’t help but wonder what his body looks like under that leather jacket…abs possibly?…strong arms probably…

“Okay,” Principal Johnson sighs, shaking her head at their lack of a response and leaning forward, “there cannot be two student newspapers at Southside High. Mr. Jones, I understand that you are the editor of the Red and Black and Ms. Cooper, I understand that you are the editor of the Blue and Gold. I would like for the merging of Riverdale and Southside High to be a smooth process and one that shows a united front, do you understand what I’m saying?”

Betty immediately nods while Jughead adjusts his beanie, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“I like the idea of calling the student paper the ‘Black and Gold’ and joining the two together,” she continues and Betty smiles haughtily at the compliment (she can almost swear she sees Jughead roll his eyes at that), before she continues, “what do you two think of working together? Two editor-in-chiefs?”

A silence falls over the office as Principal Johnson waits for their reply, raising her eyebrows when she doesn’t receive immediate agreement.

“I’m just not sure if Betty is going to be able to find the time to take this seriously,” Jughead says to Betty’s surprise, leaning forward and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “between her Starbucks runs and, like, really intense cheer practices.”

Betty bites back the urge to scoff at his snide remark, instead choosing to reach out and rub his knee affectionately.

“Aw, Jughead, I appreciate your concern,” she responds, smiling sweetly as his eyes fall to her hand before turning back to their principal, “but if Jughead can find time between selling drugs and tagging abandoned buildings, I’m sure I can as well.”

She glances back at Jughead whose tongue is in his cheek, holding back laughter as his eyes draw back to her hand…which is still lingering on his knee. He looks up at her, one eyebrow arched, and she quickly draws her hand back to her own lap, cursing the blush in her cheeks.

Principal Johnson has her fingers pressed against her temples, attempting to rub out the stress headache that’s threatening to erupt.

“Alright, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m now requiring you both to work together as editors for the Black and Gold. I want notes each week about the progress you’re making together delivered to my desk by Friday at 3:00, or there will be no student newspaper at all. Do I make myself clear? Dismissed.”

Jughead already has his satchel up and strapped to his body, nodding to Principal Johnson as he heads out ahead of Betty.

Betty rushes after him to ask about when to host the first Black and Gold meeting (or, at least, that’s what she tells herself she wants to talk to him about), but he’s already halfway down the hallway, headphones on.

"Ugh. I could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife,” Toni sighs, tossing her pen on the desk and glancing between Jughead and Betty who are seated on opposite sides of the office reading over articles submitted by the Black and Gold journalist candidates, “it’s making me need to get laid.”

Jughead snorts, shaking his head as Betty sighs, rolling her eyes. It had been three days since their meeting in Principal Johnson’s office, and they had finally agreed on a time and place for their first meeting.

“There is no sexual tension, Toni,” Betty states, marking a few spelling errors on her applicant’s article.

“You must be confusing sexual tension with mutual hatred,” Jughead mutters, and Betty shoots him a look. Asshole.  

“You two are in denial and I’m starving,” Toni says, grabbing her jacket and keys, “I’m going to run and grab Pop’s, anyone want anything?”

“A strawberry milkshake!”

“My usual.”

“Noted,” she nods, heading out the door and leaving them in the peaceful silence of the cramped office.

Betty loses herself quickly in an article she’s writing about the merging of the two high schools (having given up one the applicant articles for the time being), her mind consumed by the many ideas that come to her whenever her fingers hit the keyboard.

Jughead is also typing steadily, his eyes focused on his screen, a pen perched between his lips.

Feeling a little warm, Betty unbuttons her cardigan and tugs it off revealing her modest sleeveless top as she sets the sweater against the back of her seat. Jughead clears his throat and Betty glances at him, but he’s staring at his screen.

“Uh, it is getting a little hot in here,” he says casually, shrugging out of his Serpent jacket, revealing his gray S t-shirt, and tossing it on top of his satchel before returning his focus to his screen.

Betty’s eyes drift from her laptop to his biceps, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she admires how toned and taut his arms are. Not big and beefy like Archie and the other football players at Riverdale High.

So that’s what’s going on under there…  

“It’s alright, Betty,” Jughead smirks, interrupting her thoughts and immediately igniting a blush in her cheeks as she quickly looks back to her screen, “I know I’m a pretty good looking guy.”

“What?! I wasn’t…It’s just…” Betty flusters, trying to think of something, anything, that will distract him from thinking she’s attracted to him or something, “you’re smaller than the guys I’m used to.”

WHAT?! Goddamnit, Betty.  

“Not where it matters,” he retorts, meeting her gaze before he adds, “I can assure you.”

“Wow, that took forever!” Toni says, swinging open the door with bag full of food in one hand, drinks in the other, saving Betty from having to come up with a witty response.

Toni stops, her eyes shifting from Betty’s bare shoulders and pink cheeks to Jughead’s jacket and smug smile, before her eyebrows raise and she grins, “sorry...am I interrupting something?”

“Cher, who invited you to this party again?” Veronica asks Cheryl from Cheryl’s closet where she’s casually looking through her dresses. She turns to share a knowing look with Betty and Betty chuckles, continuing to paint her toes a lovely shade of lavender.

“Her name is Toni Topaz,” Cheryl shrugs, leaning in closer to her mirror to apply the perfect shade of deep red lipstick to her lips.

“I heard she thinks you’re pretty,” Betty says, offering a secretive smile to Veronica, who she had, of course, instantly told about her conversation with Toni.

“Southside girls have good taste,” Cheryl replies nonchalantly, pursing her lips to apply concealer at the edges, but Betty sees her smile to herself when she thinks her friends aren’t looking.

“How do we dress for a Southside party? Should I leave my signature pearls at home?”

Betty wiggles her toes now that they’re all painted, admiring her work, before nodding, “yeah, I think maybe the pearls should stay home tonight.”

Veronica tugs them off before putting them in their nice velvet jewelry box, pulling on a tight black dress from Cheryl’s closet.

“Archie is picking us up in 5.”

Archie actually picks them up in 10 and once Betty is settled into the backseat of his Jeep Wrangler, she feels her anxiety start to creep in.

After a long first two weeks at Southside High, she isn’t feeling as though she has made very many new friends and a Southside party doesn’t sound as fun to her as it does to V and Cheryl.

In fact, Betty would much prefer to be settled into a warm bubble bath, mud mask on, a book in one hand and a glass of wine (stolen from her mother’s cabinet) in the other.

But she couldn’t deny her friends their first opportunity to go out and she figures she could use a drink.

“Just one,” she assures Cheryl as she takes the cup from her twenty minutes later, glancing nervously around the unfamiliar situation she is now in.

The party is taking place at an abandoned, dimly lit warehouse in the middle of nowhere Southside where the music can be loud and the alcohol can flow freely. Bodies she doesn't recognize are everywhere, some dancing, others are in casual conversation, a few couples are pressed together in heated embraces.

A few hours and several red solo cups full of “jungle juice” later, Betty is definitely feeling the buzz. She is not usually one to participate in underage drinking, but after the nuisance she’d been put through by a particularly sexy annoying fellow journalist, she hasn't been too hesitant tonight.

Betty has finally loosened up, much to the approval of Veronica, who had slipped outside with Archie about an hour ago.

Sitting next to Betty on an old couch is Cheryl whose eyes have been casually drifting around the party before lingering on Toni several times throughout the night. Toni is now leaning against a wall talking to another Serpent, in plain view of Cheryl's eyesight.  

“You should go talk to her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cheryl snaps, taking a small sip of her beer.

"It’s okay if you’re nervous."

“I’m not nervous.”

“Ladies!” Kevin grins, walking up to them and leaning down to give them each a quick hug.

“Kev! Where have you been?” Betty smiles up at her friend, noting that Kevin is starting to look a little fuzzy.

Maybe I should set this drink down...

“Meeting new people! It’s great, there’s a guy here, Joaquin, seems really cool.”

Betty smiles happily for her friend before she glances at a silent Cheryl, whose eyes were now fixated unashamedly on Toni. Toni quickly steals a glance at Cheryl before flipping her long pink curls over her shoulder and leaning in closer to her Serpent friend.

“Cheryl, seriously, go!” Betty says, giving her a little push. Kevin spots someone on the other side of the warehouse and waves, heading away from the girls.

“Fine!” Cheryl sighs, taking one last look at herself in her compact before standing, “but only to thank her for inviting us. Nothing more, Betty Cooper.”

Betty rolls her eyes and nods as she watches Cheryl walk over to Toni, swaying her hips a little more seductively when Toni stops talking to her friend to turn and look at her. She smiles as she walks up and motions to Cheryl’s beer, offering to get her another.

Realizing she’s now totally alone (her worse nightmare in a new social situation) Betty decides to keep her drink, sipping and glancing around the warehouse. She’s not surprised that Jughead isn’t here, but she can't help feeling a little disappointed.

She can’t figure out why a guy who drives her absolutely mad, is also a guy who’s invading her sober drunken thoughts.

“Hi beautiful,” a guy Betty doesn’t recognize sits down next to her, his arm resting against her bare thigh.

Big...muscular biceps…  

Betty’s eyebrows furrow as she stares at his arm, at the way the muscle bulges, the sweet words pouring out of his mouth falling on deaf ears.

No…no…toned…lean arms…

Not where it matters…I can assure you…  

His words from their banter in the office of the Black and Gold floods her brain, making her ears feel hot as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I’m not interested,” she says firmly, cutting off the guy’s pick-up lines.

“Alright, whatever,” he shrugs, standing up before glancing back at her, “all you Riverdale High girls are stuck up bitches anyways.”

Betty swallows the lump in her throat and sits up straight, glancing around the warehouse for her friends. Kevin is talking to a few guys on the other end of the warehouse and Ronnie and Archie are nowhere to be seen.    

Cheryl is leaning against the wall in front of Betty facing Toni and nursing a new beer. Toni’s fingers are playing with the ends of Cheryl’s hair, obviously paying her compliments and Cheryl is smiling, her cheeks flushed.

Not wanting to interrupt them, but knowing she needs some fresh air, Betty chugs the rest of her drink and stands, swaying violently until she grips the arm rest of the couch to steady herself.

Whoa.

She makes her way to the back of the warehouse and out the back door, wanting to be away from the music. Noting the chill breeze, Betty wraps her sweater tighter around her as she lets the effects of the alcohol take over her body, feeling careless and free in the dark emptiness of the Southside.

Hearing a soft crackling noise to the right of her, she turns to see a small bonfire burning a several feet away.  

Warmth!

Her hand slams against the back of the warehouse, taking a moment to steady herself before she heads towards the flames.

“Hey! A Northsider!”

“You lost, sweetheart?!”

Betty stops a few feet away from a small group of people who are sitting around the bonfire, her eyes adjusting to the light. She notes the Serpent jackets and feels her breath catch in her throat.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea...  

“Betty?”

An unfamiliar rush of excitement hits her as she hears his voice, her eyes finding him in the dark. Jughead is sitting casually on an ice chest, a lit cigarette in one hand, a bottle of whiskey on the ground next to his black combat boot. A girl pressed against his side.

Betty’s eyes narrow when she notes the girl, stepping backwards as he stands, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out before walking over to her.

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” she shoots back, slurring her words and folding her arms across her chest.

“Are you drunk?” he asks, stepping closer to her and swaying slightly. Or was she swaying? She couldn't tell the difference anymore...

“Who is that?” she says quietly, motioning to the girl who has gotten up and moved to sit near a different serpent. She knows she’s going to regret this tomorrow but her nerves are too relaxed to care.

“Why do you care?” Jughead shrugs, sliding his beanie off and running his fingers through his dark curls before shaking his head, “you fucking hate me.”

“You hated me first!” The world tips a little and Betty wonders if it's normal for a guy to have such a strong effect on a girl.

“Fuck,” he groans, looking at her, taking in her high-waisted shorts and tight sweater before shaking his head, “that’s not what this is-“

The worlds tilts again and the bile rising in her throat makes Betty realize it’s not Jughead making her feel this way…

"Shit."

He quickly steps forward, wrapping his hand in her loose waves as she bends over, emptying the jungle juice and her lack of a proper dinner all over his shoes.

I rewrote this chapter like six times, so I apologize if there's any mistakes. Hopefully you enjoy, please leave a comment if you'd like, I love hearing your thoughts! ❤

[youngwidowofbrooklyn]

Open letter to a foul weather friend.

I won’t lie, after my husband died, I wondered if you’d heard. I secretly hoped you’d reach out with kind words and offer some comfort. There’s a part of my heart that will always want that from you, even though I’ve learned the hard way that your friendship has always been conditional, unpredictable and temperamental.  

And even though I longed to hear from you, there was something else that I knew - have known for a long time - and that is that our friendship is over. As much as it hurt me to do it, I buried our friendship long before my son was born and my husband died. Two of the biggest life events I’ve experienced which you, by choices you made, were not there to experience with me.

I’ve learned a lot about myself, being a grown up, being a kind person and being a friend, in the last several years. I’ve learned how to forgive and how to expect less from others, so that when I receive more, it’s a delight and not a foregone conclusion. I’ve also learned to respect my own limitations and make peace with them. And I’ve come to know that your friendship is exhausting, painful and absolutely requires more of me than I have the capacity to give, now, and probably forever.

I don’t think you fully comprehend how devastated I was by our final fallout nearly six years ago. You turned your venom on me, caught me completely off guard, hurled nasty, untrue and hurtful accusations at me via text, and refused to answer my frantic calls to try to talk things out with you. I left you a voicemail. I don’t know if you listened to it. I wouldn’t be surprised it you didn’t. I remember that I was so sick that day. I barely had any voice at all, and I was sobbing, and I just wanted to understand why you were so vicious. You didn’t give me a chance. You didn’t give me the respect of hearing me. You broke my heart.

When we were kids, you were the coolest girl I know, by a mile. I know I’ve told you that many times, but I cannot overstate this fact. You were all the things that a teenage me wanted to be: beautiful, tough and fearless. You gave me my first cigarette, and made fun of me when I didn't inhale the smoke of the Marlboro Red, so I made it my mission to learn how to smoke properly. It’s a lesson I have yet to unlearn. You were the first girl I knew who shaved her legs, who had sex. You also stole from me, ridiculed me and ignored me. But even still. I wanted to be like you. I wanted you to like me.

When we met up again in college, you were the first friend I knew who had moved in with a boyfriend. You were friends with all the guys in the cool bands. You smoked pot and dropped acid and went to cool parties. I always felt like a big square when I tagged along.

You introduced me to all my favorite college bands. Your taste was always so much more refined than mine. You showed me Tarantino movies and Wes Anderson movies long before they were usurped by the hipster contingent. You had tattoos and piercings and endless swagger.

God, you were so fucking cool. 

You got into fights with girls in bars, just because you didn’t like the way they looked at you. You were sexy and tough.

You moved away and then got married. Then I moved away. We’d gone in two different directions. 

When your marriage was falling apart, I offered to give you a ticket to visit me in the city. You came, and immediately started an affair with my friend and downstairs neighbor. I felt exploited and discarded.

When you decided to divorce and move to the city, I was ecstatic that we’d finally be living in the same place again. I looked at apartments for you and sent you photos. When you reenrolled in college, I was proud of you. I went out and bought you a few hundred dollars worth of back to school supplies, because I knew you were low on funds, and anyway, you were my best friend and I wanted to show you that I cared.

All along I think you always resented the way I tried to give you things. I wonder if you felt like I was hanging something over your head. I wasn’t. Or at least I didn’t mean to. I just wanted you to be happy. I see now that there’s no way I could influence that.

I tried to help you get jobs. I tried to fix things for you, whenever you complained about things, I responded by jumping into action. I realize now that did nothing but irritate you.

And over the years, the fallouts kept happening. We’d go a year, two, three or more without talking. Then one of us would give in, reach out, and we’d pick up like nothing had ever gone wrong. We’d proclaim our best friendship, our kindred spiritness, and maybe we actually believed it. I know that I wanted very badly to.

I remember meeting up with you after our second or third fallout before the last.  We went to your apartment, you held my feet and I cried and told you how guilty I felt for being angry with my aunt when she died. You told me that you’d been in a bad place with cocaine in the years since we’d last spoken. You also told me you’d been enjoying making out with women recently. You kissed me in my car, and when I backed away, you grabbed my face and said, “Not like that, not like that,” and then put your tongue in my mouth. I didn’t know what to say, but I was so uncomfortable that I just let you do it and then left as soon as I could.

When I moved to New York we resumed our friendship once again, long distance. We’d spend hours on the phone, commiserating over our fears and paranoias. We made plans to visit each other. We schemed and plotted and talked shit about everyone else and proclaimed our undying love for one another.

And then a mutual friend told me that you were dabbling in heroin. I couldn’t believe it at first, that you would keep something like that from me. And I was so worried for you. I wanted you to be well. I wanted you to stop finding ways to hurt yourself. 

So I tried to set up a network for you, from another state. I confronted you, gently as I could, I asked you to get help, to go to meetings, to go with a mutual friend. You agreed, and, I’ll be honest, I was proud of myself for being a good friend and trying to take care of you from afar. I didn’t realize how much you resented my intervention. I didn’t understand that it was not my place to fight for you.

In truth, your addictions have only ever made you more glamorous to me. I always felt like your mousy, naive little friend. In my mind, the druggy art world that you seemed to gravitate to was so much more romantic than the one I lived in. And if you want to know the truth, if you’d ever asked me to do drugs with you, I would have. I so very much wanted to be a part of your world.

But when the final rift came, I realized some very painful truths. You have never, in the 30 years I’ve known you, shown up for me in any meaningful way. I’m not blaming you. You don’t owe me anything. But I look back on all the ups and downs I’ve had and you made very clear choices to not participate in my life. I invited you to my wedding. You said no. Even though I stood up for you in yours. You didn’t come see my shows, which is fine, really, except....I can’t shake this feeling that you never had interest in celebrating my successes with me.

So, that last fight that we had, which left me shaken and reeling for quite a while, it was the final straw. And my husband, who had been with me for at least ten years of my ups and downs with you, observed, quite astutely as I was hysterical and crying, “Babe. I know she’s your friend, but....fuck her.”

In this latest email you sent to me, you wrote, “There will never be another Tom Bateman.” And you are very right about that. But you should know that he was fed up with the way you manipulated me, he was angry that I kept falling for the same toxic cycle with you. And so, for my own well-being, and to honor my partner, my best friend, I am saying once and for all, it is over between us.

I won’t lie. Since the last contact we have had, I still dream about you. My heart wants us to make amends. I want to be cool enough to be your friend. But after all this time, I don't think it’s possible. You resent me because you think....what? I’m lucky? I’m smug? Do I rub my great fortune in your face? I don’t know....and I don’t care anymore. Whatever you think of me is not my business.

A few months after that fight, I got pregnant, which you now know. Yet another milestone you’ve missed out on. I’m sorry for you about that one, because my son is so special, so wise and kind. It’s a shame you’ll never know him. When I was younger, I’d just assumed that you would be there to know all of my family. Then I grew up, I guess.

When I received your first email after Tom died, a year or more ago, honestly, it gave me some peace to know that you had it in you to reach out, even though you did it in your usual too-cool and not-quite heartfelt way. I wrestled with responding to it for a long while. I saved it and read it and reread it. But ultimately, Tom’s words kept ringing in my mind.

In your second email you advised me that your ex-husband had died. I don’t know what you thought...that perhaps I would see a shared experience in that information? That I would rush to you to express my sympathy? I’m sorry that he died. He was my friend, once. But, no matter how saddened you were by his death, I promise you, it’s nothing like the experience I had holding onto the father of my child while he slipped away from us. Don’t you dare try to invite yourself into the realm that I exist in. You don’t belong here with me.

Tom’s death taught me a lot about what real friendship looks like. There are many people that I thought “of course, that’s my friend,” about ,who just did not show up in my darkest hour. And plenty more who I wouldn’t have expected who have made their presence profoundly known when I needed them most. I have no anger about the way these things shook out. Just clarity.

And on top of that, I know that I can no longer chase friendships. I don't have the strength or the time. I know that I am not a good friend right now. I’ve given myself permission not to be. I need more than I can give. My real friends understand that, and they are here to catch me as I continue to fall.

This morning I woke up to a third, and hopefully final, email from you. It was rambling and in places incoherent. It begs the question as to your mental state as you wrote it. I don’t know what you intended. It was, by turns, loving and defensive. It seems though after three attempts, perhaps it’s driving you a bit crazy that I haven’t responded, which would’ve been part of our usual cycle of friendship/estrangement.

I know you've read my blog. I am not going to write you personally. If you are looking for an answer from me, here it is. Is this what you wanted?

I wish you only the best. I wish you peace and health and love. But you’ve got to let go of me. I don’t have anything left for you.

[esseastri]

Megan Reads Oathbringer (part 5)

whhooooooo there’s still so much left, but I’ve come so far?? I’M !! THERE IS SO! MUCH! HAPPENING! IN ! THIS! BOOK!

Part 5 encompasses pages 326-394 (previous parts)

INTERLUDES 1

fucking. Venli? really? I don’t want to be in her head. I don’t want to know.

anyway! NEW PEOPLE FIRST:

“Puuli the lighthouse keeper” I LOVE THEM ALREADY

“Kelek himself had broken apart the land in the middle of a storm” I...Kelek? really? are you sure? Aren’t most of the Heralds busy being...not here?

Listen, Alyx told me that we’d seen all ten Heralds somewhere over the course of the series so far, and armed with this knowledge I have squinted at every single new character like “are YOU a crazy person who is sort of a god? are YOU a crazy person who is sort of a god?”

I’m pretty sure none of them have been crazy people who are sort of gods.

But I’m keeping my eyes peeled anyway.

I RELATE TO THIS ARDENT LADY BECAUSE I, TOO, WOULD LIKE TO BE LEFT ALONE IN PEACE AND QUIET AND VERY VERY LONELY SOLITUDE TO READ MY SMUT FIC.

“What was that you’re studying?” “Important works.” Obviously. Trashy romance novels are the HEIGHT of important works.

ROSHARN LINGUISTICS IS REALLY COOL.

it’s a trashy romance novel; of COURSE there’s a sequel.

tbqh, Venli, I’m not sure what you expected. “You should be taking orders from me.” Uh huh. Sure. You summoned a hatesprean that your people literally went dullform to escape, and you didn’t think you were going to be ordered around by it?

YOU KNEW YOUR GODS WERE EVIL WHY DID YOU THINK THAT SUMMONING THEM WOULD SAVE YOUR PEOPLE

nooooo

Eshonai please. don’t be dead. you’re the best of them, just...don’t

aaahhh

wow, that’s. a lot of information okay. um. Spren of redemption? yeah, I’ll believe that when never. The parshendi ANCESTORS? are in charge?? in charge of what? the spren? the voidbringers? the changes? the storm?

also Venli is KIND OF AN ASSHOLE and I mean, we knew this already but this kind of power-hungry selfishness is. really unfortunate in a person.

ooh. different spren? save Esh please? maybe? I LIVE IN HOPE.

PART TWO

what

BRIDGE FOUR gets a pov?!!!!!!??! MY BOYS!!!??!?!?!? AAHH

BHAHAHAHA I ALWAYS FORGET HOID’S REAL NAME IS A STUPIDLY RIDICULOUS STAR WARS NAME I Love it

how come we don’t get Navani’s reaction to her daughter just magically appearing back from the dead

I want the Navani-Jasnah reuinion scene. I’ve been robbed of good mother-daughter content.

“Storms. She was perfect.” Every. time. I love it. I love how super bi Shallan is and how desperately in love she is with two very different Kholins. What a good.

god bless Jasnah “Every Moment is a Teaching Moment if You Try Hard Enough” Kholin

you know, I’m also been robbed of Jasnah and Hoid’s Road Trip Adventure. I’m sad.

omg it’s so weird for Jasnah to be the one who’s a step behind.

AAHH JOINT VISION TIME YO this’ll be fun

oooohh the Stormfather does care. he has an imagination and everything.

bahahaaha Dalinar. How many times has he witnessed all these visions and he’s still a doofus when it comes to fitting into them.

OOOHH SUMMONING ARMOR THAT’S COOL!! Can they do that nowadays?? 

“they moved on all sixes” like yeeeeppp right, most stuff on roshar has six legs but that’s a wild variation on all-fours and suuuper jarring for a sec

hi, yeah, I love Fen a lot. petition to keep her.

also her assuming that Dalinar was working with the Voidbringers: not unreasonable considering the last few months of him possibly going crazy or not. like...she’s got reasons to be suspicious.

OMG THE ART FOR THE HEADER FOR BRIDGE FOUR AAAAAHHHHHH

SIGZIIIIILLLLL omg. Having panic dreams about messing up tests. I love him???

he’s SO OFFENDED THEY DON’T KNOW HOW TO QUEUE I LOVE IT

hold on I’m changing my queue tag to “I’m Azish, I know how to queue”

BLESS. AFRO!SIGZIL

LOPEN EATING BREAKFAST ON THE CEILING WHAT A NERD

I HAVE MISSED THESE ROWDY BOYS

“Where was Teft? They actually listened when he gave orders.” MY BOYS ARE DUMB NERDS AND I LOVE THEM

what’s the “other thing”? Where does Teft disappear to? what is happen. why does Kaladin not know about it, but Sig does?

dear. god. I’m.

of course he does morning push ups. without his jacket on.

I’m

hhhnnnnngggggggggg

#priorities

I LOVE MY DUMB BOYS

LOOK AT THEM ALL GETTING MARRIED AND COURTING AND GETTING LUNCHES DROPPED OFF BY THEIR WIVES AND LOOK AT THEM BEING REAL PEOPLE WITH REAL LIVES AND I’M SO PROUD OF THEM THEY’VE COME SO FAR I LOVE THEM

also I adore that the only "problem” about Drehey being gay is that Sig thinks he’s gotta fill out forms, and that the indication is that in Azir, the forms go both ways. That’s. so refreshing and lovely and. Good job, Brandon! I’m so. this is A Good.

“Master Hoid” is a fucking hilarious juxtaposition of terms.

Kaladin’s desperate insistence that they won’t lose any more people is endearing and also terrifying because you just know someone is going to die and he’s going to be so upset and I’m going to have to drive back to Utah to yell at Brandon personally for making my boy suffer.

Can Lyn join Bridge Four? If we’re recruiting, can we recruit her?

BLESS. TWO SENTENCES LATER “How would you like to join the Windrunners.” GOOD YES EXCELLENT

me, anytime they even mention Moash: *long keening noises of despair and pain* 

Kaladin didn’t teeeeellll theeeemmmmmm he didn’t tell them what Moash did he didn’t tell them Moash hecked up and betrayed them he didn’t want then to be mad or to hate Moash I’M UPSET NOISES FOREVER

ohhhh my god.

Kaladin. Please.

Using the royal treasury’s emerald grain reserve to practice Radianting is DELIGHTFUL and HILARIOUS and also TERRIFYING OMG I LOVE IT THAT’S PERFECT

God, I love these boys.

Evi calls Dalinar “beloved” and I’m emotional

He doesn’t deserve her.

oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

He didn’t kill the kid.

He didn’t--I... I doubted him. I thought--so caught up in the Thrill, I just ASSUMED, BUT here were the seeds. The idea that the Blackthorn wasn’t quite as horrible as he could have been. Which makes the changes later so much more plausible.

god, she’s so proud of him. I love her?

Gavilar can fuck right off, tbh, oh my god.

YAASSS, ROCK POV OMG

LUNAMOR

THAT’S SO PRETTY

“I want everyone on this plateau glowing like they swallowed a lantern.” that there’s a decent David Charleston metaphor.

WHERE! IS! TEFT! I’m so worried about him.

I love that they salute Dabbid.

I love them.

I love Bridge Four. I’m not sure if you guys know this about me.

LOPEN PLEASE. “Did you stick yourself to the ground?” “All part of the plan, gon.” IS IT THO, DARLING?

KALADIN TRYING TO TEACH HOBBER TO BREATHE IN STORMLIGHT SO HE CAN HEAL HIS LEGS IS SO GOOD KALADIN IS SO GOOD I’M

crying

“I now have to either promote him or push him off the side of the plateau.” “Promote him? to what?” “Airsick lowlander. Second class.”

HELLO, FRONDS, I DON’T KNOW IF YOU ARE AWARE, BUT I! LOVE! BRIDGE! FOUR! SO! MUCH!

I...they saved the bridge.

I love that Rock bows to and respects even the spren he can’t see. Also I get the feeling that no one really ever sees Glys, except Renarin. Which makes...sense, in a weird way? I guess...’cause they are both so quiet and reserved. Or we assume Glys shares that with Renarin. It seems right though, if that’s true.

Also, Rock making work for Renarin, just so he can be included, which is all he wants is A Good. Rock is an extremely observant fellow, once he puts his mind to it, isn’t he?

Rock is really, really good at making people feel better. And he knows exactly what people need. Skar is a teacher, so he gives him the opportunity to teach. Renarin needs a confidence boost, so he tells him not to see himself as a flaw, but as a person. Rlain needs company, so he sends Renarin to him. He’s very good at manipulating people into making themselves feel better. It’s really delightful.

HOBBER!!!! HOBBER GOT IT!!! THEY’RE ALL JUST GIVING HIM THEIR GEMS THEY DON’T EVEN HESITATE THEY’rE JUST

I’M CRYING I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEY ARE ALL SO DAMN GOOD

you know what, fuck Sadeas.

OH MY GOSH

OOOOOHHH

ROCK’S FAMILY!!!!! IS HERE!!! THERE’S KIDDOS!!!!!! I’M!!!!! OH MY GOSH

HER NAME IS SONG AND THEY ARE CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS AND I’M CRYING AGAIN

they are SO GOOD. honoring their bridge for its last run. the last one. That’s...almost incomprehensible, but YEAH! They fly now! what do they need a bridge for! (a bridge four. hah) But the still...they honor it. It saved their lives. It was all they had. Of course it gets one last run.

aahh, I love Bridge Four so, so much.

[frostbittenfemme]

Tagged by: @polyhexianchicken Thank you for the tag!

Tagging: @x-de-con-struct-ed-x @bytesnbolts @omicrontheicequeen Feel free to do so if you wish and I apologise if you’ve already done it and anyone who I haven’t tagged feel free to steal if you so wish. I’m really crap at stuff like this. 

MY MUSE IS.   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES/NO  I mean she’s not popular at all but I think being an OC really contributes to that unfortunately. 

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  WELL… / NO / IDK. 

I mean I’d say she’s rather cool. (badum tss)  I don’t really now if she’s considered hot? I mean atleast one muse thinks she is?? I mean I think she’s an attractive femme. Wild however doesn’t hold such an opinion of herself.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.  I mean she’s an ex-gladiator? So I’m gonna go yes because damn you need some strength for that. Mentally she’s strong too but she only sees herself as physically strong. 

Are they underrated?  YES / NO. She does indeed need some love and TLC and sometimes even I underrate her. Sorry Wild. 

Were they relevant to the main story?  YES / NO. I mean kinda just slotted her in and she can exist outside the main story so I’m gonna say no?

Were they relevant to the main character?  YES / NO

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO. Maybe in Kaon? Tiny femme gladiator kickin aft? I’d like to think she was known for that. Or the fact that she’s now a medic I mean honestly what a career change. 

 How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. Depends on what point in her life you get her at. 

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?

I mean I try and follow canon as much as possible but like its hard sometimes with all the universes and not having knowledge on them all. I do try and match and stick to the canon of whoever I’m interacting with though.

SELL YOUR MUSE! (aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutual.)

ICE AND SNOW GUYS AND GALS! I mean that’s pretty freakin awesome! She’s a really loving caring medic who just wants some damn respect and 5 minutes peace and quiet. She was raised to be a gladiator only because her Sire knew of nothing else and he saw potential. Kaon was tough but Wild was tougher. Once she had enough of fighting and had the funding she went to medical school, battled to become a doctor against the reputation she’d built through pit fighting and then went back in the pits to help those who needed her.  She puts up a cold hard front sometimes because she’s known nothing but fear and anger and had the only mech who cared for her ripped away, but with a new location came a new chance, a fresh start.  She isn’t perfect but then who is? 

NOW THE OPPOSITE! (list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

While she is a sweet and loving femme that gladiator spirit still burns in her and some days it just really craves a fight. She is stubborn and she can be a bitch and she knows it and she doesn’t like taking orders because she’s usually the one giving them. Her being an outlier can be off putting which I understand but its part of who she is. I’m not sure what is mostly offputting but sometimes I think its just the idea she’s an OC which is quite sad because OC’s are wonderful and interesting and I think if you gave her chance and got to know her you’d see she isn’t that bad. 

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?

Wild was my very first OC I made her when I was about 8-9 years old, she’s gone through many changes and only recently have I solidified the story line and her designs and such. She got put on the shelf for 11 years just gathering dust because I didn’t have any friends who role played or were transformers fans. 

Only recently I decided to make a blog for her because I found old art of her and she made me fall in love with transformers again. And I’ve got to say thank you to @x-de-con-struct-ed-x for being so damn supportive of both me and her because I really was considering just damn right deleting this blog because Wild just wasn’t going anywhere. Hell there are still days I feel that way now but they’ve been a big help and they’ve also helped me develop Wild as well. (and got her someone to love at the same time) and I’ve got a best friend now too all because of Wild so I’m grateful for that.

I’ve been RPing for a while now with my fiance through a different OC so it’s not like I haven’t got experience in it but I’m lacking in experience with Wild. I love Wild I really do and I want to see her grow and get more popular I want people to see past the fact she’s an OC and see she is a unique femme with an attitude but will put her own damn life on the line to save others and will mother hen you to protect you but also won’t hesitate to kick your ass. 

YOUR INSPIRATION

People’s reactions to this small femme medic are great, especially in reaction to her powers or the fact she was a gladiator. She very much is a trouble maker and she likes a challenge and I like writing her. While I did make her before frozen existed I won’t lie when I say it does inspire me in regard to her powers but and how she reacts and it’s even a running joke between other mun’s and even muses some times.  I’m here to have fun and show her off because she is amazing and it took me too long to realise that and that’s what inspires me, I want others to appreciate her.

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.  I really wish I was more skilled to portrait Wild I really don’t do her justice at all.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.  Yes I do write drabbles and I promise I’ll write some that aren’t all Wild/Ironhide but damn they’re the best couple and I will go down with that ship. I’m working on some currently although practically no one reads them :’) But it’s a bit of fun I think and it goes a little deeper into how Wild reacts to situations.

Do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES/ NO. I am forever thinking about Wild and there’s always ideas bouncing around my head whether its AU’s, headcanons about Kaon or ideas for Wild herself. 

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO. Again I’m not skilled enough to portrait Wild I really wish I was but no one else could portrait her because she is my creation and y’know what that’s okay. Hopefully we can develop together.

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. I try my best and just hope the crap I dish out is ledigble and understandable.

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. I am and that kinda shows in Wild sometimes?

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?

I’m open to constructive criticism and I’d try and take it onboard. Telling me you hate Wild and how I write her won’t end well. I’m trying my hardest and I do this for fun and if you don’t like it just don’t interact.

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?  

I love them! Feel free to send them in anonymous or not I don't mind any question others have about her, seeing people curious about her really makes me happy and it helps flesh her out a bit more too!

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  

Well I’d be curious about it so sure? but that’s the best thing about headcanons they’re open to interpretation by everyone and everyone has their own. My headcanons are for me and while you don’t have to agree with them please don’t get aggressive.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT? 

?? Why are you still on my blog then? I mean I might be offended but I do respect that people have their own opinions and that’s okay. Just don’t be spreading hate okay?

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?  

I like to think so? I mean I’m a bundle of anxiety and depression so I do have my bad days so if I’m overbearing please do tell me and I’ll dial it down.I’d love to get to know other muns and make some more friends but I’m so damn anxious about interacting sometimes I could and sometimes do cry. Please don’t hesitate to send me an ask or a private message I will get back to you as soon as possible but do bare in mind I’m from Britain and most likely in a different timezone. Ya just gotta get to know me I’m like a coconut, I take a while to crack but I’m good on the inside? I nearly put delicious? Maybe I am delicious on the inside but we shall never know, 

I enjoy OOC interactions as well as IC ones just sometime bare with me because I am very tired and awkward so sometimes replies take a while. If you have a problem with me or my content or you’re having trouble please do come and talk to me about it because honestly we’ve all been there and I like helping. I look forward to interacting with others because I am 100% an introvert and the internet is my only escape from real life. Hopefully we can make some more friends.