#and now its half a year until i can see them again and act like an actual person

[pinks-wizards]

One day I'll share with the class

i need everyone that has a wizard101 oc to tell me about them in the notes. like now. im so infatuated give me every thought

[five-rivers]

Cilia

A little ficlet I did for @jackdaw-sprite :3

Clockwork was observing Daniel out of the corner of his eye.  The boy had wedged himself into the corner of his couch - an artifact he had only acquired for Daniel’s sake in the first place - and looked like he was half asleep, although he was still in ghost form.  

There were a number of paths leading out from this point in time.  Some of them were so unlikely and would require Clockwork to act in such a reprehensible way that they were virtually impossible, and Clockwork barely glanced at them.  Others were unpleasant or unfortunate for a variety of reasons.  The rest had their positives and negatives.  

Clockwork would have to decide which pathway to take.  And whether or not it would be worth it, to take the one that would give him what he wanted.  

Already, he had been contemplating the dilemma for subjective days.  As Master of Time, he could contemplate it for subjective years, if he so wished, but that would likely be unhealthy.  

He wanted.  

He flew over to the couch and settled on the side across from Daniel, just close enough for their auras to touch.  

Daniel’s aura reached towards his, the tiny strands that made it up waving and stretching sideways.  The strands that could touch tapped and brushed and wrapped around Clockwork’s.  Clockwork could feel as their rounded, slightly bulbous ends curiously, and somewhat clumsily, nosing through the thicker field of Clockwork’s aura.  Where the auras overlapped, the air seemed to ripple with rainbow shades.  

Daniel stirred, reorienting himself slightly on the couch so that he was closer to Clockwork, a little bit more of his aura intersecting Clockwork’s.  

“‘M I in your way?” asked Daniel, blinking sleepily at Clockwork.  “Keeping you off your couch.”

“No,” said Clockwork, who had never used the couch before now.  

“What’s–”  He raised his hand, confused, and waved it through their combined auras, briefly making them flare even brighter as another part of Daniel’s aura passed through the area.  “What’s happening?”

“Aura intersection.”

“I’ve been close to other ghosts before,” said Daniel, waving his hand through their auras again.  “It didn’t, um, it didn’t do this.”

“Ghosts you trust?” asked Clockwork.  

“Um,” said Danny, frowning.  “Why does- Why does it do this?”  He was very obviously not fully awake, but he was as curious as his aura.  

“You know that your aura is made of small filaments.”

Daniel nodded.  “Like cilia.  On a cell.”  

“Yes, like cilia.  Your aura is interacting with mine.  If you look very closely, you will be able to see the strands.”

Daniel blinked slowly, then leaned closer.  “I don’t see anything.”

“Look at it like you would look at something invisible,” said Clockwork, adjusting his position slightly.  

“Hmm,” said Daniel, leaning even closer.  He lost balance and his shoulder bumped into Clockwork’s arm.  “Mm, sorry.”

“No need,” said Clockwork, patting Daniel’s back.  

It was the first time Clockwork had touched him so casually, and Daniel stiffened, but he was too tired, and too interested in the interactions of their auras, to keep that up for long.  Clockwork, meanwhile, let the strands of his aura brush through Daniel’s, projecting calm, moving soothingly.  

Daniel was not yet familiar with that kind of empathic, aura-to-aura communication, and he responded accordingly, mirroring the feelings and drooping further, curling slightly into Clockwork.  Clockwork nudged him gently, with hand and aura, until he was more or less lying on Clockwork.  

“It’s pretty,” said Daniel.  

��It can be, yes,” said Clockwork, extending his aura, wrapping Daniel in its embrace.  “You seem very tired today.”

“Lots of fights,” said Danny.  “Boxy, Desiree, Skulker–”  He yawned.  “Nocturne, even.”

“Oh?”

“He’s- He’s not so bad when he’s not feeding off like a million dreams or- or whatever he was doing that one time…”

“Indeed,” said Clockwork, stroking his shoulders and upper arms.  Daniel’s head was nodding up and down, his blinks getting longer and longer, and his aura was also starting to slow and grow quiescent, although it still expressed a sleepy curiosity.  

Clockwork let his own aura be more adventurous, questing through Daniel’s until it touched his skin.  Daniel shivered at the first touch, but otherwise seemed undisturbed, relaxing further as their auras became more intertwined.  

Cautiously, Clockwork began to feed him energy through their auras.  There was a small chance for rejection at this stage– But there was none, Daniel accepting the sustenance easily, his head lolling back against Clockwork’s chest.  

His eyes were closed.  His breathing slowed.  At his waist, his aura sparked, then rolled, forming a ring.  The ring split, moving in two directions.  Where the rings passed, Daniel’s aura pulled back into his skin and his clothing shifted, becoming his human outfit.  All very normal.  

Except that the parts of Clockwork’s aura that were tangled in Daniel’s were pulled in as well.  Not all the way, no, but enough.  It was uncomfortable at first, but Clockwork quickly got used to it.  

Daniel did not wake.

He did, however, turn to snuggle into Clockwork.  Clockwork, feeling indulgent, wrapped him in his cloak.  

Even when Daniel transformed again, Clockwork’s aura would still be tangled with his.  In fact, their auras would be even more tangled, to the point of being inseparable by normal means.  

Now, a ghost’s aura could extend for some distance, and the stronger the ghost, the further their aura could reach.  But even Clockwork’s aura could not extend more than a few dozen meters.  

In other words, Daniel would be bound to him until he could come up with a way to untangle himself.  Bound, for Clockwork to keep, at least for a while.  

Daniel would be angry at first.  Even if Clockwork didn’t have the ability to see the future, he could see that.  But his anger would fade quickly, and he would feel better if he had useful and interesting things to do - Clockwork was already planning what he would teach him.  As for sustenance during that time…  Clockwork sent another pulse of energy through his aura, and smiled as Daniel mumbled happily in his sleep and snuggled closer.  

He would savor this moment.  

[cayleeuhithinknott]

matt knows how much you hate to see christmas end.

the christmas tree stands in the corner of the living room, twinkling softly with its white lights and a few stray strands of tinsel that somehow ended up there after all the decorating chaos. you’re sitting on the couch, staring at it like you’re saying goodbye to an old friend. matt’s on the floor by the tree, already halfway through unboxing ornaments, carefully placing them back in their little slots.

“you know we don’t have to do this right now,” he says, glancing back at you. his voice is gentle, but there’s a teasing edge to it. “we could just leave it up forever. make it a, uh…year-round christmas tree.”

you smile faintly, hugging your knees to your chest. “don’t tempt me.”

matt smirks, turning back to the tree and plucking off a glittery snowflake ornament. “seriously, though. if it’s making you sad, we can wait a few more days.”

you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. it’s just…” you trail off, shrugging. “i don’t know. it’s stupid. christmas is over, and now everything feels kind of… boring again.”

he pauses, looking at you over his shoulder. “boring? come on, we have so much exciting stuff coming up. like, uh…” he pretends to think, tapping his chin dramatically. “laundry day. cleaning the fridge. oh, and let’s not forget the thrilling saga of returning that sweater your aunt got you.”

you laugh despite yourself, rolling your eyes. “wow, can’t wait.”

he grins, clearly pleased with himself, and turns back to the tree. “see? i’m full of great ideas.”

but as he continues taking down ornaments, you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness. the cozy glow of the tree, the scent of pine, the warmth of the holidays—it’s all disappearing too quickly. you stand up and walk over to where matt’s sitting, grabbing an ornament and turning it over in your hands. it’s one of your favorites, a little ceramic reindeer with a chipped ear.

“remember when you dropped this last year?” you ask, holding it up.

he glances at it and groans. “don’t remind me. you acted like i’d broken a family heirloom.”

“well, it’s cute,” you say, placing it gently in the box. “it deserves to be treated with care.”

“noted,” he says, shooting you a playful look. “no more reckless ornament handling.”

you smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. matt notices, of course he does, and sets down the strand of lights he’s untangling.

“hey,” he says softly, nudging your knee with his. “what’s really going on?”

you shrug, sitting down next to him. “i don’t know. i just… i love christmas. it’s my favorite time of year. and now it’s over, and everything feels kind of empty.”

he watches you for a moment, then leans over and bumps your shoulder with his. “you know, it doesn’t have to feel empty. we can keep some of the christmas magic alive.”

you raise an eyebrow at him. “oh yeah? how?”

he grins, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous sparkle you’ve come to know so well. “well, for starters, we could leave the tree half-decorated just to annoy everyone who visits.”

“matt.”

“or,” he continues, ignoring your tone, “we could eat christmas cookies every day until, like, march. just drown our post-holiday sadness in sugar.”

“matt!”

“or,” he says, turning to face you fully now, “we could just look forward to next christmas. because you know it’s going to be even better than this year. we’ll get an even bigger tree, put up even more lights, and—get this—we’ll start watching christmas movies in october. we’ll go full christmas overload.”

you laugh, finally feeling the weight in your chest start to lift. “october, huh? that’s a little extreme, even for me.”

“oh, come on,” he says, grinning. “you know you’d love it.”

you shake your head, but the smile on your face doesn’t fade. “maybe. we’ll see.”

he leans back against the couch, looking up at the tree. “besides, christmas isn’t just a day, you know? it’s a vibe. and i’m pretty sure we can keep that vibe going as long as we want.”

you glance at him, your heart softening at the way he’s trying so hard to cheer you up. “you’re such a dork,” you say, nudging him lightly.

“but i’m your dork,” he shoots back, winking.

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through your chest. somehow, matt always knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.

together, the two of you finish packing up the ornaments, working in comfortable silence with the occasional joke or playful jab breaking the quiet. when the tree is finally bare, matt stands up and stretches, offering you a hand to help you up.

“ready to drag this thing out to the curb?” he asks, nodding toward the tree.

you sigh, but there’s a smile on your face now. “yeah, i guess so.”

as you both wrestle the tree out the door, leaving a trail of pine needles in your wake, you can’t help but feel a little lighter. christmas may be over, but with matt by your side, you know there’s plenty to look forward to—this year, next year, and every year after that.

a/n: 2 posts in one day wow! i stole @strnilolover little sparkly divider sorry!!! anyway im sad christmas is over so im projecting it onto this😍

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222

[illiterateaffairs]

so we meet again | stiles x reader

part one | masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 1,595

warnings: language, banter, references to sex, fire! and not too much development from the last part because this is a slow burn and just bridging the gap to more drama

summary: stiles is still processing the fact that he hooked up with his enemy - but seeing you again might just be all he needs to get a grip and get over it...for now

author's note: am i doing this 12 days of ficmas??? i'm 2/2 but i shouldn't get cocky, i've got a week of work events so like i said don't hold me to it! this is part two of cursed from the start, you can read the first one at the link above!! also for anything teen wolf, i am half fact checking and not really rewatching episodes in full so while this takes place in 301, i am half assing the hell out of the surrounding plot so just stick with me, at the end of the day its just backdrop for stiles and our evil witch girly! enjoy and pls comment and reblog!!! <3 p.s. virginity is a construct but we all know the stiles characterization lmao

Stiles “ignore the problem until it goes away” Stilinski was back in full force. 

This time the problem was you. Maybe problem wasn’t the right word. But hooking up with you, someone he’d despised from the second they’d met, was definitely not a good thing. 

Fortunately for him, he hadn’t seen you since that night. But while that made it easy to avoid a visual reminder of that night, it didn’t mean he didn’t think about it. 

In fact, he's thought about it every night since. He’d get through his whole day in quiet denial, burying the memory deep, deep down. But then as soon as he was alone with his thoughts at night, he relives it all over again.

And listen, its not because he enjoyed it.

Well. He definitely enjoyed it. More than he honestly thought he’d enjoy his first time. So that was a plus.

And he was in fact a very eager and consenting party in the whole thing. 

But that didn’t mean he enjoyed you. 

It was just a check off the bucket list. 

But damn was it really good. 

That was all it was though. Just him reliving the pleasure, not the girl. It was his first time having sex, it was normal and even expected for him to look back at it fondly. Even if his partner in the act was someone he was less than fond of. He’d just tuck the memory away safely and move on, a new and improved person. 

But that was easier said than done when Scott was around. Most people jumped at the chance to tell their best friend when they’ve lost their V card. Especially Stiles, who’s made his virginity a hallmark of his personality. He was dying to tell Scott if finally happened, but he really did not want to have to explain it all. Even if he left the identity of the girl anonymous or made someone else up, Scott would still question it. And sense his heart rate. He did not have the mental capacity to deal with that anytime soon. 

So when he finally does accompany Scott to his tattoo appointment, he doesn’t mention a thing. And when they run into Allison and Lydia for the first time all summer, he is reminded there’s a girl he actually likes to stress himself out over. 

Admittedly, on the first day of junior year, he does keep an eye out for you, nervous about how he’s supposed to act the first time you come across each other since that night. Sure, you don’t run in the same circles as long as Stiles can help it - until another supernatural event forces proximity. But you do go to the same school, and one or the other would bring you together eventually. But he doesn’t see you in the halls, nor are you in his homeroom with Scott, Allison, and Lydia. 

The first time he sees you he’s not prepared for it. Despite any weariness - or full blown hatred - from Stiles, Scott is insistent on getting his tattoo. It had healed after the initial tattoo appointment, neither of them having thought of werewolf powers affecting it. So, they pay a visit to Derek at the old Hale house to find out how he did his own tattoo. Unfortunately, he reveals there are two ways a werewolf can receive a permanent tattoo. One, get inked up by a blow torch. Or two, have a witch do it.

That’s why when Scott and Stiles walk into the abandoned house, they find Derek and you.

Stiles’ heart stopped briefly when the two of you made eye contact, but he quickly recovered from his shock in fear of giving himself away. Especially when you greet them with your usual nonchalant smirk. Hey, boys. 

He could have sworn you’d given him a private, discreet look when Scott focused his attention on Derek for an explanation, but it was probably his anxiety playing tricks on him. 

Needless to say, after hearing his options, and seeing Derek a little too trigger happy with the torch, Scott chooses you as the one to give him the tattoo. Even if he’s not thrilled with that option either. 

Stiles watches wearily as you sit in a chair beside Scott. You wait expectantly for him to offer you his arm. 

“What? You think I’m going to bite it off, or something? I’m not one of the werewolves here, remember?” You ask, teasingly.

Scott rolls his eyes and holds out his arm. “Well, you’re still not the most trustworthy person I know, remember?”

You fake pout, “You trusted me enough to help you with the kanima situation last spring.”

“Yeah and then you teamed up with the Argents at the last second!” Scott argues back.

“That's because your little friend pissed me off.”

“Hey, I’m standing right here.” Stiles buts in. 

“Oh, I’m aware.” You look up at him, “Now make yourself useful, and help hold him down.” You nod at him and Derek.

Stiles fights his own eye roll. Yeah, it was getting easier second by second to stop overthinking your night together. 

“Why do they have to hold me down?” Scott asks.

You plaster a semi-sweet smile on your face, “Because it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” 

You’d never been more honest with them. 

Stiles will probably have nightmares about Scotts agonizing screams while you magically burned his tattoo onto his arm. 

You stick around to ensure the tattoo stays, despite your verbal confidence in the fact. But as soon as Scott discovers the alpha pack emblem on the door, and gets into a conversation on strategy with Derek and a now conscious Isaac, you make your exit. 

As you walk down the path to your car, Stiles can’t help but follow you, figuring he wouldn’t be of much use to the conversation and that Scott would catch him up later. 

“What do you want, Stiles?” You ask without turning around, not even giving him the chance to speak up first. 

“Jesus. Do witches have super hearing, too?” He asks incredulously. 

“No, you just walk loud and annoyingly,” you finally stop and turn around, “And I figured you’d want to talk.”

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?” Stiles crosses his arms, trying to act calm and normal. 

“Because you’ve been antsy since the moment you saw me,” You shrug, “And you’re you. All you ever do is talk.”

Stiles scoffs, but then nods reluctantly. He did yap a lot, that was fair. 

“So what do you want, Stiles?” you ask with an amused smile.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure we’re cool, I guess?”

“That we’re cool?” You give him a disbelieving look, “Have you and I ever been ‘cool’?”

Stiles doesn’t hold back from rolling his eyes, “Okay, you know what I mean. I just wanted to make sure that since we-”

“You just want to make sure I’m not gonna give away the fact that we slept together?” 

Stiles flinches and glances back at the Hale house.

“Relax, they’re not listening to us.”

“Wha- you don’t know that!”

“They’re too busy talking about the alphas, we’re fine,” You sigh, “And I know the drill. We already agreed not to tell anyone.”

“I know. But you’re not exactly known for keeping promises.”

You stare at him blankly, “Are you trying to make me want to tell people?”

“No! No. Okay, no. Thank you for your discretion so far. I’d really like it if we continued to keep it between us.” Stiles stutters, stepping closer and lowering his voice. 

You look him up and down in amusement. “Yeah, I got it. Not a soul.”

“Right, exactly,” Stiles nods, “And it was a one time thing.”

You nod too, the corner of your lip turning up, “Was there any part of you that considered it wouldn’t be?”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, and his cheeks warm. “Um, no.” He clears his throat, “No. That wouldn’t make any sense. It barely made sense the first time we did it.”

You hum with a slight nod, taking another step or two closer to him so there’s minimal space between the two of you. Your voice is low as you reach out and gently place your hand on his chest, “Really, because I remember a lot of senses the last time we were together. A lot of our senses that felt really good.”

Stiles' heart drops to his stomach as your warm breath hits his face. “Um, I don’t…”

You snort, pushing his chest and you step back, “God, you are too easy.”

Stiles groans and steps back even further. “And you are the worst.” 

“That’s not what you were saying last time,” you start to walk backwards to your car, “And just remember, if you don’t want it to have been the last time you know where to find me.”

Stiles fake laughs, “I fucking hate you.”

“And yet you didn’t hate fucking me!” you call before you open your car door.

Stiles groans again, once again looking between you and the house at lightning speed, praying to god no one heard that.

He curses your name as you drive away, wondering why on earth he let you keep him up at night for any other reason but pure loathing. He had never been more sure that their first time together would in fact be the last and from here on out he was going to pretend it never happened at all. 

But when did ignoring the problem actually ever make it go away?

author's note: loathing! unadulterated loathing!!

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[scottingmysummers]

KNUCKLEHEAD

-a Stan Pines angst one shot-

words- 1378

(A/N: very rusty on my fic writing so take it as u will 😁 also leave me and my obsessive use of metaphors alone)

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Stan hadn’t smoked in years. When he first arrived in the sleepy little pacific northwest town, after the incident, he gave it up to keep the appearance of his brother. Cold turkey was tough, or maybe it was just the stress, but either way he was sick as a dog for weeks until the withdrawal had its fill of wracking his body. But now he sat on the back porch of the shack, a cheap and aged cigarette between his fingers. He was surprised he could even find the pack- he had tucked it behind a loose baseboard in his office and even covered it with his rug for good measure.

The worn couch hugged his hips, the fabric rough underneath him. He had spent many nights out here, listening to the birds, mind replaying the last time he saw Ford. The way his six fingered hand reached desperately for him, the way he screamed out his name, the echo of the book hitting concrete. He memorized every part of the scene- the calluses on Ford’s palm, the way his beard was disheveled, the broken test dummy in the corner. The deafening silence that followed was the worst; He heard it in his sleep. The crackling of the broken portal, his heart pounding against his chest. Burnt flesh and fear, the weight of his actions settling on him like a bloody crown of thorns.

He blew out smoke. His eyes followed as the cool night air wafted it up into the stars. For a moment, he was ten years old again. The sand of the New Jersey beach was cold, and Ford was explaining how matter is not created nor destroyed. Everything is made up of atoms that have been around for millions of years. When you think something is gone, it’s essence lingers always, never truly leaving. That simple memory stuck in his mind. He would still give anything to sit on the beach again, his only care in the world was what he and Ford would have for dinner and what they would do tomorrow. Together.

Even with Ford’s return, everything was..different. Stan didn’t know what he expected, but this? Ford was the same loser he grew up with, but he was worn. Serious. Whatever he went through in that portal messed him up, and part of Stan ached that he didn’t get the portal finished sooner. Maybe he could’ve saved his twin from his fate.

“Stanley?”

Stan coughed out smoke, holding the cigarette to his side and squinting to see who was standing in the dark doorway. He half expected Soos or Mabel, tensing once he saw Ford. Stan leaned into the couch, lounging and acting like it didn’t matter at all that Ford was there. They had fought every single night about something- about Dad’s funeral, about the shack, about the kids. Their relationship was a frayed cord, ready to snap at any moment, and Stan’s hands tore from trying to keep the ends together.

Stanley gave a grunt, taking another drag of his cigarette. “That’s the same brand Mom smoked,” Ford mused, standing still in the doorway. Stanley lifted his fingers to look at the cigarette. He hadn’t even realized. “Huh. Guess it is.”

“…May I sit?”

“Knock yourself out.” Stan shrugged, scooting across the couch. His chest was tight underneath his worn muscles, but he blamed it on the nicotine.

Awkward, tense silence filled the air between them, The wall was thick- another reminder that the twin they both once loved was lost to time and circumstance. “Can we talk?” Ford broke the silence. Stan gave a nod, keeping his eyes trained on blades of burnt grass by the edge of the splintered porch.

Ford took a deep breath, tapping his fingers on his leg. His posture was perfect, his back stiff and upright. It pissed Stan off; It was just another way Ford was better than him. “…How did you put together the portal like that?..”

Stanley was caught off guard by the softness in his brother’s tone. He hadn’t heard that since the day before he was kicked out, all those years ago. The catalyst to his wasted life. His jaw tensed and he brought the cigarette back to his lips, speaking through smoke. “What, didn’t think I could do it?” he huffed back, not even looking at Ford.

Ford’s silence was all he needed to know. Of course Ford didn’t think Stan could do it. He was the dumb sibling. He was a con man and a mistake, the bottom of the barrel scum while Ford was the genius. The air of superiority that floated around his twin put a sour taste in Stan’s mouth. Stan put the cigarette out on the bottom of his heel, just like their mom used to do. He was a Mama’s boy always, even when he was literally dead to her.

“Shit, It wasn’t hard to do. You aren’t as groundbreaking as you think, Poindexter,” Stanley lied with an eye roll. Teaching himself advanced physics and high level science was the hardest thing he had ever done. He had to actually apply himself for the first time in his life, and it was all for Ford. Everything he did was for Ford.

He felt Ford tense beside him. Was it annoyance? Frustration? Disappointment? Stan could no longer read the shell of his brother. “That's..incredibly impressive, Stanley.” Ford murmured, picking at the skin of his fingernails. A nervous habit, though his stoic face betrayed it.

“Yeah, whatever. You gonna thank me now?” Stanley leaned his head back against the couch, arms extended over the back. He couldn't help the bubble of rage that filled his chest at Ford’s inability to answer. So simple, two words to justify the three decades Stan relentlessly spent cooped up in that basement.

Stan scoffed, pushing himself up from the couch. His joints ached, his age only helping fuel his rage. “Of course not. Stanford Pines doesn’t thank anybody.” He hissed. Ford’s expression darkened, sitting up a little from the couch. “That’s enough, Stanley.” He warned, “I told you how dangerous it was bringing me back.”

“I saved you from whatever hell you were in! And you can’t even pretend to be grateful?!” Stan’s voice raised, and he was sure the twins could hear the argument. In this light, Ford looked just like their dad. In a blink, Filbrick Pines was glaring at him through his bushy grey eyebrows.

Stanley blinked rapidly, dispelling the thought. He clenched his jaw. “I’ll show you dangerous!!” Stan roared, pulling up his sleeves. Ford stood up in response, a vein in his neck bulging. “Stanley, you knucklehead, you’re going to wake up the kids!!” The word was like a trigger. Knucklehead, knucklehead, knucklehead. His dad’s favorite word to describe him. It filled his bones with a heat he hadn’t felt for 30 years. He gave his life to Ford, and this was how he repaid him?? With snide remarks and side eyes??

Stan’s hands gripped his brothers shoulder before he could think- he was never good at doing that. His fist collided with the nose identical to his. The punch was filled with years of rage and emotion. Ford stumbled back, hand over his face and blood dripping through his fingers.

You could cut the intensity with a knife. Stan stood, panting, hands clenched. Ford deathly silent. Moments passed like that, wondering how their relationship ever became like this. How did the two boys repairing a pirate ship turn into two men glaring at each other in the darkness.

“Goodnight, Stanley.” Ford huffed out, holding his bloody nose. He shoved him with his shoulder as he walked past, disappearing into the shack that used to be his own. “Pfft. Yeah. Run away like you always do, Stanford! That’s always worked out for you!” Stan yelled back. He sat back down on the couch, huffing and rubbing his bruised knuckles. The birds continued their chirping, and the sounds of the forest resided around him. He put his head in his hands, unable to stop the hot tears of frustration. Ford wasn’t the same- hell, neither was he- but was he really that bad?

Maybe he’d be the same fuck up knucklehead forever.

[aingeal98]

I don't think Damian was insecure because Cassandra was a closer part of the family than he was, especially considering that at that point in time he was wasn't fully invested in being a part of the family as he is now (also lets be real, its not like Cass is the center of the family or anything.)

I think it was more of case of him putting her on a pedestal based on what he heard about her, since her reputation probably made her seem like the ideal version of himself that he was told to aspire to all his life, so he was probably hoping that she was similar to him in some way as a form of self-validation, but when he did meet her it probably made him feel very conflicted since she didn't live up to his exceptions.

So in his mind it probably started out like "I'm supposed to be perfect and Cassandra Cain is already perfect, so she's probably very similar to me and I need to aspire to be more like her, which would be easy since we're already very similar to each other" then when he did meet her it went on to become" "Wait that's Cassandra Cain? But she's nothing like me?! Does that mean I'm not perfect after all and everything I'm doing is wrong? No.....its her who is doing everything wrong" so him butting-heads with her was him grasping at straws since putting her down would be easier than for him to accept that what he was aspiring to become all this time was the wrong image and he didn't want to start from scratch by believing in a new version of the ideal him (which thankfully he did end up doing at the end, he just was unsure if it was really what he wanted for himself at that point.)

Either ways its crazy that this plot-line didn't have any follow ups and no writers tried to have interact with each other again in almost 15 years.

I half agree with this, because I do think that Damian would have put Cass on a pedestal before meeting her. And I feel like part of him would have felt betrayed when they did meet and instead of being someone he could relate to, she was chatting with Dick and Tim and connecting over their shared history. The framing in those panels from Gates of Gotham where the trio are strategising and Damian is sitting away from them watching feels very deliberate. But I do think insecurity plays a role in that. You came to a new country all alone to meet your father but now he's dead and you're stuck with a bunch of older people meant to be your siblings and here comes one who was trained from birth to fight as a league funded project and yet... She clicks with your other siblings more than you? I think it would for sure make Damian feel more insecure even if he wasn't fully invested in becoming a part of the family, and he'd almost feel irrationally betrayed by Cass for not living up to the version he had in his head that was meant to ease said insecurity over this new "family" of his instead of making it worse and making him feel even more alone.

I can definitely see that thought process you describe in his head though. He's a genius technically but he is only ten and if something is wrong then either he's the problem or Cass is the problem, no room yet for emotional complexity. And he refuses to be wrong (similar to a certain sister of his who refuses to lose shhh who said that) so he's just going to have to butt heads with Cass until everyone including her understands that he's right and she's wrong, simple!

We deserved so much more of them working together. Gates of Gotham was a great start and I love that it's forever canon that their first act of sibling bonding was blowing up the batboat together. But we deserved so much more.

[thelordofgifs]

For the prompt thing, number 24 on the Silmarils list; choked with weeds and slime? IDK seems like a line you could do something interesting with.

Another one I’m answering a year late, but have some War of Wrath-era Elros and Elrond growing slowly apart! Thank you for the prompt 💕

“Just a little further,” Elrond says confidently, raising his torch. It does very little to illuminate the dank forest path ahead of them, but he does not seem deterred. “We’ll know it when we feel it.”

“Elrond,” Elros says quietly, trailing after him. He is not used to this position – not used to being the one to doubt. For so much of their lives it has been the other way around, has Elrond followed Elros charging head-first into wherever his will led them.

“You remember,” Elrond insists. “Naneth told us that the air inside Melian’s Girdle was cleaner and purer than any she had ever breathed since.”

Elros inhales, takes in the stench of rot and decay that clogs the forest, and thinks with longing of the clean salt air of the Sea. “The Girdle was fallen almost before Naneth was born,” he says. “It is not here, Elrond.”

“The forest will remember it, even so,” Elrond says. “Doriath was once the most blessed realm in Beleriand – and we its last heirs! It will remember us.”

Too often these days, in Elros’ view, does Elrond’s talk turn towards the power of memory. It makes him uneasy: he does not like to feel the edges of a rift between them, to understand so little the drift of his brother’s thought. Perhaps it is the knowledge of burned Sirion, and all that was lost with it, that haunts Elrond now – or perhaps the long shadow of Amon Ereb, that mausoleum in which they came of age, where the sons of Fëanor mourned the lost days of their glory, and Maglor’s every lullaby was half a dirge.

Beleriand was splendid once, it is true – but the land is breaking now, and the interminable war drawing into its final act, and Elros is more concerned with building something from the ashes than weeping for what was burned. But he does not know how to say this to Elrond, who is still leading him towards the forest’s heart, where Menegroth once flourished.

“Do you even know how to enter the city?” he asks instead. The path, choked with weeds and slime, clings unpleasantly to his feet and makes a squelching sound with every step. “The hidden entrance may now be lost.”

“Not lost,” Elrond murmurs, his voice losing a little of its bravado. “Perhaps it has forgotten itself – but we can call it back.”

“And how long will that take?” Elros argues. “Elrond, my men are waiting for me. I have not the time for a fool’s errand.”

Elrond turns back to look at him for the first time. For a moment Elros is oddly glad of that, that he might still capture his brother’s attention with a sharp word: but the thought is almost immediately followed by a hot flash of shame, for hurt flickers briefly in Elrond’s eyes. It is the sort of thing Maedhros used to do, in his worst moods – goad and goad until at last Maglor gave him some reaction, often too imperceptible for the twins to see. Elros does not want to be like Maedhros. Does not want to think of Maedhros, wants to shake off all the clinging ghosts of his childhood and look now to the world ahead.

But: “It ought not take long,” is all Elrond says, mildly.

They walk in silence, Elros breathing through his nose. He thinks again of the Edain under his command, whom he left waiting at their new outpost a little south of the forest. It has been long enough since he and Elrond last went away on an adventure of their own, for Gil-galad cannot often spare his brother from his duties, and Elros too is a commander in his own right. Besides, he did not think his men would understand their object: most of them have grandparents too young to remember Doriath before its fall. Still he does not like to abandon them, does not want them to think him just another elvish princeling, a stranger to mortal troubles and mortal woes.

But nor could he have let Elrond set out on this quest alone.

In the silence Elrond begins to sing a canto of the Lay of Leithian, of Lúthien dancing in the forest glades to Daeron’s music. Elros joins him, for their voices yet ring stronger together than apart – but he can put little conviction behind the song. The forest that his foremother loved is dead now, and so is she – they cannot resurrect her with their poems and their songs, necromancy dressed up as memorials, she is fled where they cannot reach her. Elros wonders if she was glad to do it.

Elrond’s eyes keep flitting between the dark, foreboding tree-trunks, as though he cannot quite understand why they do not become green and fair again under the influence of his song. At last he stops singing, a little frustrated now. “I cannot find a way,” he says, “it is all dark and rotten.”

“Well, there have been all manner of foul creatures crawling through these forests since Doriath fell,” Elros says sensibly. “I would be surprised were it not polluted.” 

“Why will it not cleanse itself?” Elrond says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why will it not remember how it used to be?”

Every two years or so Elrond will come to Elros with a plan to reach out to Maglor and his brother, and bring them before Gil-galad to face justice and redemption. Each time Elros tries to make him understand how impossible the idea is – and it works, for a year or two. 

He is not accustomed to thinking of his brother as childish – not accustomed to feeling so very old as he does right now, seeing the stunned bewildered hurt on Elrond’s face.

“It is tired, Elrond,” he says. “Let it sleep.”

For a moment Elrond’s face crumples, and Elros thinks he must weep; then he says, quite calmly and cheerfully, “Well then, we had best be getting you back to your men,” and sets his course for the forest’s southern border.

The victory feels hollow, to Elros: but then, they all do. 

[icarusredwings]

I have problems incorporating Ellie because the comics/movie timeline does not link up, and I've had a hell of a time fixing the Xmen movie/Logan Timeline (because it has to make sense in my story damn it) I'd have to retcon wade banging Carmelita Camacho when he was broken up with Vanessa, and how do you do that tastefully?

So what is your opinion on how to do this?

Does it work in cannon?

Thoughts in general?

Okay so- Canonly to the movieverse, It's said that Ellie (Eleanor camacho) will not be in this universe, this is probably because Ryan doesn't like the idea of dipping on his daughter seeing in many comic universes, while he does take in Ellie he quickly realizes how crap of a parent he is, always on the run, always in danger, and he dosn't want her in danger (most times) so he leaves her with an adoptive family. He visits often, gives her a phone and tells her to call him any day or night for anything at all and he'll awnser, he plays with her often but has to leave half way through almost every time, her adoptive parents sometimes dislike Wade (for obvious reasons) but they let him come with them trick or treating and to her birthday party.

In the comics Ellie also is a big fan of Spiderman and peter meets Ellie a few times, saying he wasnt aware Wade even had kids, in which he responds that he wasnt either until a couple years ago. This is said as a joke since Ellie is only about 6 when this is said, but its true, Ellie was already born by the time he knew anything about her existence.

He even told her mother that she couldn't possibly be his because she's too beautiful. All in all, you can see him struggling so hard to balance his mental health, his work, his daughter, and just trying to live enough FOR her. She becomes his anchor, but really... really.. struggles to meet the standard of a "good father." To us, we can see how hard he's trying, but Ellie, her father, lies, doesn't come when he says he will, and all an all? Gave her away. It's a gorgeous story, really, depending on which one you read. Older Ellie eventually takes on the legacy of Deadpool in one universe and tells people loud and proud that she's Ellie Wilson and that she IS deadpool (similar to how Laura IS Wolverine).

Alright. Canon done and done.

Now. As the Board of Headcanons thoughts and opinions.

Yes- Ellie would be conceived during the time Vanessa and him are broken up, so somewhere between movie 2 and 3. I *Think* that it's implied that Wade went back to make Vanessa alive again, shooting himself in wolverine orgins, trying to kill baby hitler but failing, etc and then its implied (I think) that Cable goes back home after that seeing as in the 3rd movie the TVA says that he abused his powers with it and Wade mentions that he dosn't have it anymore. That he "smashed it" or something but Wade is a known liar. He probably returned it to Cable (or idk maybe he really did wreck it. Dropped it off the freeway or something- but then they probably could just fix it again idk) so he could go home to his daughter.

Im not entirely sure on the deadpool movieverse timeline, but I wanna say it's a good 6 years in between movies / how long he's been broken up with Vanessa? So yes, they totally could have had Ellie in the plot since Carmelita was a hookup. One that kind of was a bit Eeehhh if you ask me anyway since she only does it because she thinks she's about to die and wants to have sex again before that. He takes off his mask, and she runs off, probably leaving Wade feeling way worse then before hand.

Now I haven't read this specific comic, but she claims that she couldn't find deadpool for the entire pregnancy (accurate) and wanted to give Ellie up for adoption or she wanted child support (?) So Wade took her instead.

You could very easily label her as a sympathy/ rebound hook up from Vanessa but again, movie would be more complicated if he came back to vanessa with a whole kid so thats why they decided to keep her out (and child acting laws/pay probably)

There would infact have to be a whole argument of "Wade where the fuck did you get a kid!?" "Uhhhh shes mine" "no take her back where you found her thats someones daughter you nutcase!" "No no- I mean... shes literally mine.."

Which would do well inna fic where Vanessa and Wade stay broken up, because If my ex boyfriend had a whole kid with someone else I doubt it would be easy to get back together- but if you want it to where Vanessa is still together-ish with Wade then you will have to do something where Vanessa becomes kind of like a step mom.

With how young Ellie is- you could probably write it to where she fully believes V is her mom in the first place. The timeline makes sense that way, I think. You would just have to work out the whole "My boyfriend is having a massive mental identity crisis and is extremely depressed to the point he's neglecting his daughter"

And THAT would be the issue. Does Wade neglect Ellie sometimes? Yes. Is it for her own good? Yes. Would he EVER do anything to personally hurt Ellie? You're out of your god damn mind if you think yes. He does not want to be like his father so he would never hit her. Shout at her? Sure. Regret it? Instantly.

I also can't see Vanessa leaving Wade in such a dark place with Ellie and Al either. She definitely wouldn't leave a child in a home where she wouldn't he cared for- So you would have to have V take Ellie which would lead to Wade being MORE depressed, and maybe thats why he's trying to get his life together so badly? To get his daughter back?

Because normal dads have normal jobs right? Hence the car salesman gig. Maybe hes saving up to move to somewhere so Els and him can have a cleaner, safer, bigger apartment because Obviously sharing a bed with Al makes Vanessa look at him with somewhat suprise and pity. V would want him to get a place where Els can sleep safely and have her own space. Even if its their own apartment and wade gives Els the room and he sleeps on the couch, as long as shes his priority.

V taking Ellie from him would be a major eye opener for him to get his shit together.

(He also would probably call her all the time to talk to ellie and demand that Ellie dosn't meet Vs boyfriends or hook ups because HE'S her dad, not them, he'd kill a bitch if Ellie called them dad)

After the movie, when Logan and Laura are there, Wade can look at her and ask if he can have Ellie back now, and she tells him "Lets start with weekends." Because she can tell just how much he's actually gotten it together but hes not quite ready to have her full time again.

As time goes on with Logan, They would eventually have to move but yes, in about 6 months time he would get Ellie back and have his little family that consistents of a mommy, 2 daddys, a dog, 3 daughters, and a grandma.

[11queensupreme11]

Here comes another platonic AU I was interested in Percy's future children and how they would deal with the bi-racial culture that combining Percy's marriage with any yandere would bring upon the children

Percy is loved for being herself and that means she can indulge in her human culture without any problems because the gods find her values ​​and beliefs adorable but any children she has will not have that same privilege

Any child independent of his father will be raised as a God and if he is expected to behave like a worthy God, it would be totally confusing for the child to see people loving his mother for her humanity only to criticize and punish that child whenever he shows any hint of resemblance to his own mother

I definitely see Percy teaching and reproducing little traditions and values ​​that she herself learned from her mother to her children, the yanderes would let this continue because seeing Percy acting so happy and excited warms their hearts

It would be so difficult for the children because literally all the gods around him would be criticizing humanity and its customs while at the same time idolizing their mother who is the definition of humanity, the children would be criticized for having 25% human blood ( which is ironic because Percy is 50% human and NOBODY cares about that), the gods make children feel inadequate because they have human traits (maybe they don't even realize they do it, maybe they treat it as something more fragile and dumb, like they accidentally underestimate and infantilize children) while also adoring their mother for the same reason

An example: no one cares that Percy is a disaster at mathematics, this has become another of her charms but that would be the opposite with her children, it would be shameful if any of them were incapable of performing basic operations (Beelzebub is a scientist so I imagine he would be livid if his own son couldn't calculate a mathematical operation) definitely human traits would take the blame, everyone would talk about how human blood made them inferior to the other gods and again no one will blame Percy, everyone they blamed poor Sally

Imagine that for years this feeling of shame, comparison, insufficiency and anger builds up inside the boys until one day all these feelings explode while Percy was just trying to recreate a human tradition that she did with her mother (baking blue cookies) until that Makarios and Kyrr just explode saying that they don't care about her stupid human traditions and that they don't care about her inferior human mother and that they disown her as a grandmother and that she is ashamed of having human blood and that they hate her for being half -human, Thalassus and Luke even try to calm the situation but in the end they admit that they also hate her human side (they don't really hate her, they just said it in the heat of the moment)

Maybe in the heat of their anger, Thalassus and Luke even ask if they are really bastards, if it's true that the nobleman from Atlântica really isn't their father (a bit like that scene in House of the Dragons where the eldest sons Rhaenyra asks if the rumors are true and she just remains silent without being able to answer), the younger brothers are horrified (they have always heard that only dishonored women and prostitutes have children outside of marriage, and that a woman's greatest sin is cheat on your husband) then they scream and insult her   Percy would first be shocked and then she would be deeply hurt, it would be an underlying pain worse than any injury she had ever received on any mission (and she would know a lot about painful injuries), she loves her mother very much and always misses her but like her now she's probably dead, the only way to revive those good ones would be to pass those beloved traditions on to her own children (since all the other gods despise anything remotely human), to know that the only beings she can share her own culture with in truth, despising everything she loves would be extremely painful, and I won't even describe the pain of a mother when she hears her child scream that he hates her

And she was also insulted for something that wasn't even in her control, she never chose to sleep with the yanderes, she was simply forced (eventually she came to love the yanderes and their children but that doesn't erase the abuse she suffered), Hearing her beloved children saying they feel ashamed and disgusted with her for something she didn't even have the power to change (she didn't choose to marry the nobleman in the same way she didn't choose to get pregnant by yanderes) simply DESTROYED her heart

I just remembered that there is a syndrome called "Broken Heart Syndrome" it is extremely rare, going through extremely stressful situations such as the loss of a loved one or hearing great negative news makes the heart beat so hard and so quickly it causes symptoms of a heart attack and sometimes can even be fatal, after hearing everything he heard, Percy's heart LITERALLY breaks (let's imagine that Percy inherited this genetic syndrome from one of Sally's ancestors), she spits blood from her mouth (just like in wmmap, I like to be dramatic) and just falls to the ground like a merionet that has had its strings cut

The children despair and scream for help, the yanderes arrive desperately in the kitchen trying to understand what happened, Percy is cured by the joint efforts of Beelzebub and Apollo, he is placed on absolute rest, the children go to her room to apologize Percy, like a good mother, accepts the apology but when the children look into her eyes they notice that her eyes are dull and have lost that happy glow, after that many things change

Percy is depressed, she has stopped all human traditions, she has lost her appetite and not even blue food attracts her, she just lies in bed staring silently at the ceiling, Poseidon is so desperate that he offers her fatty food but she doesn't show it interest, he tried to take her to New York but even that didn't cheer her up, the romantic yanderes are desperately trying to cheer her up and her children are feeling very guilty and ashamed

Now more than ever Percy feels suffocated in his supposed home so she asks to stay at Uncle Adamas' house for a while, Poseidon doesn't like the idea but considering it's the first time she's spoken in days he lets her, since Percy left In the Palace the atmosphere is tense, the children, feeling guilty, go to land to get some human gift for their mother in an attempt to improve her mood and it is while they are on the nearby beach that they see something shocking: The nobleman from Atlântica lovingly kissing a pregnant woman

(I'm going to stop here because this post was very long but I'm going to write part 2, I had sent you a post almost similar to this one by mistake, that post was the draft of this one and I ended up sending it by mistake because I got confused with Google translate 🤣🤣🤣)

WAIT I NEED CLARIFICATION BEFORE I GO ON SO QUICK QUESTION:

since you stated here that percy is still 50% human and her kids are all 25%, does this mean percy is still a demigod in this AU? like, she hasn't ascended so she's still aging, can die later, etc? or is she already dead and a spirit in valhalla? OR is it that she gave birth to the kids first, and THEN ascended??? ORRRRR is it just that she's still a demigod, but they found a way to make her immortal without turning her into a god?

OKAY NOW MOVING ON

when the kids are still young, the yanderes wouldn't be that harsh cuz... you know, they're kids (except for poseidon, he's gonna always be hard on them smh). but it's when they grow up is the problem.

anubis and apollo would be mostly okay (sorta) with their kids having some human-like traits, mostly because it reminds them of percy and it's further proof of their love for their kid to have some of percy's beliefs.

but it really depends on the yandere and the human trait. baking, cooking, and eating would be okay for pretty much everyone but poseidon, but on things like academics, most of them would be pretty.... speciest? idk if that's the right word for this, but yeah 💀 OR just being physically weak or getting tired, yeah most would look down on them for things like that 💀💀

but percy's heartbreaking from her kids.... omg. honestly, beelzebub and loki would go ballistic on their kids if they found out they were the cause of this, ESPECIALLY beelie who has no issue hurting his kid if need be 💀

ALSO WHAT THE FUCK????????? NOBLEMAN ARE YOU SUICIDAL WHAT ARE YOU DOING

that man fucking lost his mind LMAOOOOO

DID HE FORGET WHO HE'S GONNA PISS OFF IF HE GETS CAUGHT? 😭😭😭😭

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED A PART TWO 😭😭😭😭

[insidemyrottenbrain]

First dinner with Henry after a long long time

Finding out why he has been searching for you all these years

And what he wants now

Years later - 2

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Continuation at the request of my dearest anonymous

Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.

Henry ended up inviting me to dinner, insisting that he had a nice place in the middle of London. It was strange not only because of the rapidness with which he managed to obtain such a place but also because it was deeply uncharacteristic of him to own one in the city’s storm eye. Contradicting my rational thoughts not to go, I accepted the invitation to a promising home-cooked meal.

That is why I now stand at the candle-lit dinner table in his scarcely furnished flat, idly sipping from one of the two glasses filled with the white wine I had brought and had been saving for a special occasion. I watch Henry move around the kitchen as if he hasn’t aged a single day, with the same self-awareness of an old ballerina. Being alone with my thoughts more often than not brings certain things to light. My attention is now enraptured by the reality that I am fighting a losing battle with my yearning for He who never once ceased to infect my mind and torture my soul. 

Henry’s lips gently tug at me by rolling my name off his tongue and he pulls me back to reality by setting two dishes on the table. ‘You seem to be devoured by your thoughts, cupitus.’

‘I didn’t know you cooked.’ I remark as he finds his place on the chair opposite to mine.

‘It is a fairly new development.’ Henry nods. ‘Please, tell me how you find it.’

I pick up what looks like a succulent bite along with some garnish, and eat it. The flavours bless my taste buds.

‘You once again meet my great expectations, Henry. Is there anything in which you don’t excel?’ I half-smirk at him out of habit. I should have expected him to be good even at mundane things such as cooking.

There is a silence. I can feel the atmosphere in the room change into something thicker, more suffocating. Henry seems to be weighing down his words, utterly torn between them. He takes a deep breath as if to steady himself and levels his cold gaze with mine. ‘In existing without you.’ He finally slices through the dense silence. ‘I spiraled into utter madness when you left Vermont. Nothing made sense. I failed to realize how much you influenced my life until your departure.’ He is vigilantly tightening the rosary around my neck.

‘You must understand why I left.’ I say instead of acting on my consuming impulses that beg me to soothe his beating heart.

‘I do.’ Henry nods solemnly. ‘However, knowing the reason for your absence does not bring normality back to me.’

‘Normality is not eternal.’ I say without thinking.

‘It is not.’ He agrees. ‘Regardless, you must be my eternity.’ 

The sentence is so obnoxiously irrational that it has managed to break my whole being, including my equanimity, leaving behind raw emotions on my face. This did not escape Henry’s eyes.

‘I am aware of my thinking’s quixotic nature, yet I fear you must take it as it is.’ He pauses to light up a cigarette. ‘Will you come back to Vermont with me?’

‘No, I-’

‘Then I shall stay here with you.’ He interrupts not wanting to deal with anything that might be in antithesis to his wishes. Once he sees I remained quiet he takes a drag from his cigarette and speaks again. ‘The matter of location is settled then.’

‘I suppose so.’ There is no point in disagreeing with him. I pick up my fork, remembering the food in front of me. We eat in silence, while he finishes his cigarette and lights a second.

‘Let us move on to the matter of our relationship.’ Henry gets up and slowly moves towards the balcony, an unspoken order for me to follow. My feet move on their own accord and I end up by his side.

The city is breathing. It incorporates everyone, blurring mismatched stories and human lives together into one single homogenous mix of souls, yet somehow omitting us. We stand above it, two mortals playing Gods, overlooking a sea of indistinguishable humanity while we ourselves are an obscure pair of animae, strangled and twisted around each other far above recognition. I now understand that he is here because of my holy chains spiraled around him, constantly tugging and demanding his devotion, forbidding him from developing any organized thought or rational emotion. We endlessly torment each other with separation until our transit existences are nothing but purgatory.

I take the cigarette from his lips and bring it to mine, then let its remains fall below. I allow the warm smoke to escape my lungs and brush against his face. Henry desperately inhales it like oxygen.

‘I missed you.’ He whispers, vulnerability clear in his eyes.

I smile at the sight of which I never even dreamed and once again, after countless years, lock my breath and limbs with Henry’s.

[alfredojesta]

OC post but it's for jason the toymaker rewrite (THIS IS NOT AN OC X CANON POST I WILL BREAK DOWN SOBBING IF ANYONE THINKS ITS OC X CANON THANK YOU) (TS IS UNHEALTHY AS FUCK!!!!!!!) i wanna provide some info because i've been chipping away at this rework for a bit now and i've got. the basics if you will.

Margarethe is basically my version of Maggie (from Jason's OG story if you've read it you know) and Lizbeth is her sister (she acts as the replacement for Daisy. again if you've read the story you know LOL). they're VERY different in the rewrite. the only part i kept the same was Maggie's amnesia and dead parents

Marge is a 30 smth y/o woman with amnesia and she starts dating Jason who then proceeds to gaslight her for 3 years straight in an unhealthy relationship that ends with Marge getting turned to yet another doll. she works at a daycare before Jason tells her to quit because. erm. her job isn't that important anyway. Jason only dated her because she reminded him a lot of Amelia (and my version of Jason is always looking for a new Amelia to fill his void). Jason used her amnesia to his advantage, constantly demeaning her for her shitty memory and then reassuring her that her health problems don't make her any less deserving of good things

Lizbeth is Marge's fun-going half-sister who's a year younger. she's married to a wealthy guy and therefore uses his money for anything and everything. she met Jason first! she was like "WOAH YOUR TOY SHOP IS BEAUTIFUL MY SISTER WOULD LOVE IT HERE I'VE GOT TO BRING HER" BUT. the time between when she met Jason and when she introduced him to Marge was like... 7 years. because Marge was in a coma from when she was 15 to when she was 20. then for 7 years, Lizbeth forgot Jason existed until she was strolling London with Marge. only then did Lizbeth go "HOLY CRUD!!! I WONDER IF THAT TOY SHOP IS STILL OPEN!!!" and dragged Marge to the toy shop

anyway Jason doesn't like Lizbeth. funnily enough he always thought her name was Elizabeth which goes to show how little he cared about her LMFAO the last thing he ever said to her, when Lizbeth came to his flat sobbing about Marge being missing, was "I never liked you, Elizabeth." (then he shut the door on her and she stood frozen for a good minute.)

Marge loves Jason like she thought it was so cool he started his own business but it slowly dives into concern. As it always does. she gets confused abt his motives. she has so many memory gaps and Jason is alw telling her what happened (she can really only trust his word) she's left alone a lot but Jason also isolates her from others. she works until Jason tells her its better if she takes time off bc of her health. Marge cant say the same for Jason even tho hes constantly working. she in fact wanted to make connections with other people, and that is when they started to argue frequently. Jason became frustrated because why the hell is he putting so much effort into this woman (and then he decided, after a bit, he needed to fix her so he turns her into a doll.)

(There is no world where Jason can have a healthy relationship with a woman as long as Amelia is apart of his life. Jason sees all the women in his life as projects to work on and perfect. That's why he wants to keep them and gets angry when they try to leave. At that point, they've broken themselves again. And the only way to then perfect them is by turning them into a doll.)

this is also where mr. bunny comes into play because Marge wanted to purchase him and that's how she interacted with Jason for the first time. the fact Marge was a daycare assistant meant she was able to get free toys from Jason LOL it's sweet in theory but Jason thought acts of services were just ways to keep Marge at bay ^_^ so she wont consider leaving. god bless his stupid fucking brain and its dumbass way of thinking

n e way their relationship was toxic as fuck but was Jason's longest relationship . he only saw her as a replacement for Amelia though so it's safe to say he never truly loved her.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Holiday Gift To A Good Friend

@ryuryuryuyurboat

Hey Yukari, think fast chucklenuts!

NOW THEN!!!

I WISH YOU HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! AND A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!!!

Kaeya has complicated feelings about christmas…

He used to celebrate every year with Diluc and da- Mr. Rangdividr.

But now… well…

You can imagine how someone like Kaeya spends his time on the holiday’s when no one else is around.

For all of his pomp, all of his slutitude, Kaeya had very few people he could spend Christmas with.

Jean would be forced off of duty to spend time with her sister and her family, Amber would wrangle Eula, Lisa would join in, the rank and file would be having a party on christmas eve in the mess hall which had been lovingly decorated by everyone, including Klee.

And all of them made him feel like he was out of place, made him feel alone.

Maybe that’s why he was always so down during the month preceding it?

Don’t get it wrong, Kaeya loved christmas, so many happy people, so much joy, so much cheer!

It was impossible for him not to smile!

Nonetheless, he didn’t want to be alone for christmas.

It had been his wish every year since leaving Dawn Winery all those years ago.

And every year, through some miracle, it had been a wish granted.

And it was always the same person who granted that wish of his.

You.

From the first time the two of you met in the roaring snow to this year as the two of you sat cosied up next to the fire, warm cups of your beverages of choice in hand.

And Kaeya, for all his pomp, all his slutitude, could never figure out what to say.

At least until now.

“Hey.” Kaeya called.

“Yeah?” you responded.

Kaeya placed his head on your shoulder before saying.

“I love you.”

Silence pierced the room and Kaeya briefly wondered if he had just ruined it all, wouldn’t be the first time after all.

Then, you placed your head on Kaeya’s and said,

“I love you Kaeya, even if your brain is a handful of ice cubes.”

“Heh, I’ll take it.”

“Oooh! Oooh! Big Bro! Look! There! That one!” Teucer happily shouted from atop Childe’s shoulders, pointing at the store decorated with lights and with quite a few toy’s in its window.

“Ha! Ha! You got it Teucer!” Childe exclaimed in response.

Childe loved this time he got to spend with his little brother, no matter how rare it was for him to find any.

Though he does have to admit, he’s tempted to buy a few of these toys for himself.

So many interesting models, so many strange new things like a paddle with a string that connects it and a ball.

What could it be used for?

What is its name?

What genius made it?

“Hello there! How can I help you?” a voice asked.

Childe was brought out of his reverie and looked up from the strange object in his hand.

In an instant, he felt a tiny shift in himself.

It was something strange.

He wasn’t fighting so why was his heart picking up?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Childe walked out of the shop, Teucer on his shoulders with a new plush and the strange toy known as a “Paddle Ball” in his hand.

“Big bro, why were you so weird around that nice toy person?” Teucer asked, curious at how strange his elder sibling was acting.

“I… I am not sure Teucer…” Childe answered half heartedly, mind still on that person.

Why couldn’t Childe keep his mind off of them?

“Hmmm… this warrants further study.” Childe thought to himself darkly as he began to sing along happily to the songs around himself with Teucer.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It was a good day at the shop for you.

You sold quite a few toy’s and made a lot of children happy.

Including that strange man…

Ajax was his name if memory serves.

To see a grown man’s eyes light up at even the most simplistic of toys and trinkets…

What type of life did this man lead?

Still, you doubted you would ever get an answer to that question…

Either way, it was time to lock up now!

Then another wonderful day of selling toys!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Childe hit the ball with the paddle as he sat on the bench in the park.

That was the easy part for him.

Hitting it again however, not so much.

This is illustrated by the red rubber ball completely missing the paddle and whacking him straight in the face.

“Ow…” Childe muttered as he rubbed his nose.

Why was this thing so hard to use?

It was not anything special, there wasn’t any trick to it.

Childe just needed practice, that's all.

The orange haired man let out a sigh.

Why was that toy shop owner still on his mind?

Something about you had just… ensnared him.

Had completely captured his attention.

Even now, he still felt the warmth of your hand when you handed him the toy he held now.

Why in the world was this happening?

And why-

“Oh! Hi mister Ajax!” A voice told Childe, shocking the man somewhat.

It was you.

Oh no… it was you!

He was starting to feel strange again…

His face felt warmer, his heart was beginning to race, he began to notice the smallest things in the world around him!

What were you doing to him?

And why… Why did he want to kiss you?

In his time under the protection of the Crux fleet, Kazuha had noticed many things about his Captain.

She was always aware of everything on her ship.

She always knew what everyone on her ship felt like.

She had a strange talent for drinking anyone under the table without getting drunk herself.

She always, without fail, kept to a strangely exact schedule concerning where the ship went.

She had a small, tattered, picture that would always make her smile when she looked at it no matter what.

She always had the ship make port at Liyue Harbor at least two times every year.

She always spent those times in Liyue with someone he had never met.

Kazuha had a few hunches on who that person was to his Captain. All of them made him quite happy for his Captain.

Though he did have to wonder, what did his Captain get that person for their birthday and the holidays?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Beidou held a small black box in her hand as she exited the jeweler.

She then immediately turned into one of Liyue’s few empty alley’s.

The Pirate Queen had never been this terrified in her life.

It’s strange.

She had faced down all kinds of things that could’ve killed her a thousand times over by now.

But this thing in her hands?

It scared her a thousand times more than all of those put together.

Why?

She was deeply in love with you, the fact that she was going to ask you to marry her tonight of all nights should be proof of that.

Yet, she was still scared…

Beidou knew what she was scared of, but didn’t dare voice it in her thoughts.

She couldn’t.

If she did… she might not go through with this.

And she had to go through with this.

She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you after all.

And Beidou always got what she desired.

It was in her job description as a pirate.

So she was going to do this.

She was going to do this.

She was going to do this!

SHE WAS GOING TO DO THIS!!!

“I. WILL. DO. THIS.” Beidou exclaimed loudly to herself, hyping herself up for what she was about to do.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

That night, the crew of the Crux was given a very special surprise when their captain returned for the holiday party.

Their captain, a ring on her finger and holding her spouse close.

That night, a great many members of the crew lost a great amount of Mora.

Mora, which all ended up in Kazuha’s hands.

The woman in blue rushed around like the entire world was burning down around her.

This would not be a… overly dramatic statement of Furina’s current predicament.

Furina had tried to cook you something special for the holidays.

It, unsurprisingly, did not go well.

The drapes were charred and soaked, several dozen plates were smashed on the floor, the food she had tried to create seemed to have gained sentience and was now eating the pot it was born in.

In summary, Furina failed miserably at everything she had tried to do in cooking you some food outside of Macaroni And Cheese.

She wished she could say she was surprised at this.

She wasn’t though.

Oh by Celestia how was she going to fix this by the time you got back?

“Unless…” your all too loveable scamp of a wife muttered.

A devious plan hatched in Furina’s mind.

“Heh, heh, heh, I think it is time to show you off!” your wife said with a sinister chuckle.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You were definitely not expecting this to be how everyone found out who your wife was.

Yes, your wife just so happened to be Furina.

It's nothing worth all the uproar being caused by everyone you know.

She was just like everyone else.

Well, not really.

She is hopeless as a cook unless it has to do with Macaroni And Cheese.

You got the feeling that this sudden desire to show you off on the holidays had something to do with that.

Still, you weren’t going to waste any time you could spend with Furina.

Not to mention, you had a gift to give her.

And now that she was showing you off?

It was the perfect time to give her something more permanent than the two strange rings of Macaroni And Cheese she initially proposed to you with in the heat of the moment while making said dish.

Still, the true rings would be put on display.

These were just to ensure that nothing broke those precious things.

You don’t think Furina would be able to forgive herself if hers broke.

She was like that with you.

And you loved her for it.

Also, why did Furina smell like burned food?

The pit in your stomach continued to grow.

You got the feeling she had ulterior motives for having you out like this.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

[oversizedcat538]

Gojo Satoru x Reader

TLDR: You agreed to be Gojo's fake girlfriend and now you have to attend dinner with his parents.

Gojo and (Y/N) have been close friends since their freshman year in high school. They used to go on all kinds of adventures, stirring up mischief wherever they went. However, since they started college together, things have been relatively calm. 

That is, until a month ago. Gojo began having trouble with a new girl in his class. He was trying to be nice to her, but it quickly turned into a headache as she wouldn't leave him alone. (Y/N) could see the stress on his face every time his phone rang. So, when he asked her to pretend to be his girlfriend, she agreed without hesitation. The plan worked perfectly! The girl began to back off and leave him alone, making him feel more relieved than ever.

Even though (Y/N) wanted to end it, Gojo insisted they keep up the act to satisfy his parents' curiosity about a possible daughter-in-law. She reluctantly agreed, wanting to be a good friend. Until now. Gojo stood in front of her, with a smirk on his face. "My parents are asking about you again," he said, "Do you think you can attend a dinner with us tonight?"

"I absolutely can't," she exclaimed as the absurd suggestion of meeting his parents left her breathless. "This is getting ridiculous. We need to just call it quits and come clean." 

Gojo's tone was half-joking and half-serious as he replied, "I can't just call it quits, babe. My dad is already pressuring me about us being in love and getting married. If he finds out it was just a cover-up, he would lose his mind. You have to do it... It's the only way we can keep this charade up a lil' longer." She crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. "Why exactly do we have to keep this going? Didn't that girl leave you alone already?"

"She did, but now the drama has moved to my parents," he rolled his eyes. "They were already suspicious it was all fake, to begin with. Now, they're calling me every day and asking about wedding plans and kids. You think I haven't tried to stop their insanity? Of course, I have, but it's not working. I need you to come tonight."

A brief silence fell over them as they exchanged looks. Feeling a bit uneasy, she looked elsewhere, not wanting to look at him anymore. She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her face. After a moment, she glanced back and groaned in defeat, throwing up her hands. "Ugh. Fine! You get one night!" His whole face lit up into the most wide-mouth smile. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I knew I could count on you. I'll pick you up at 7:30! No later!" Gojo was practically bouncing with excitement, which was a little off-putting. "Oh! And... wear something nice." She rolled her eyes and watched as he bounced away in a hurry. 

~Time Skip to 7:30~

 She looked at herself in the mirror, making sure she was dressed appropriately. It was skin-melting hot outside, so she chose to wear a casual black summer dress. She heard a car honking outside just as she sprayed some perfume on herself. She felt nervous about leaving the house but decided to swallow her pride and go. She was a damn good friend after all.

Gojo's white BMW was idling in the driveway, its bright lights beaming from the dark driveway towards the front door. She could almost hear him humming a tune from within, waiting anxiously for her to get into the car. The windows were slightly rolled down, his elbow sticking out the window as he waved at her to come. As she got closer, her anxiety increased. What if Gojo's parents didn't like her? What if they thought she wasn't good enough for him? Even though they weren't dating, these thoughts made her anxious.

She opened the car door and swiftly got in, closing it behind her. The tension was thick as she buckled up her seatbelt. Before Gojo could even put the car in gear, he looked at her with a mischievous grin. "You look great! My parents are gonna love you." He glanced at her, making sure the compliments were working before turning his attention to the windshield as he began to pull out of the driveway. She began to dread the rest of the night, sighing in response. She turned her attention to him, putting on a small smile. "Thanks.." She paused, unsure of how to continue. "So..is there anything I should know before we get there?"

Gojo glanced over, shooting her a playful grin. "Not much... Just that they're a little intense. Especially my dad... He'll probably give you the whole rundown of our family's history and expect you to know all about it. If you just pretend to be interested, it will hopefully go over smoother." He glanced again with a reassuring smile on his face, "That's pretty much it. Not too complicated." She just smiled and nodded, glancing out the window "Right.." 

The rest of the car ride was nothing but awkward and anxious silence, with the soft sounds of the wind and the radio. Before she knew it, they were pulling into a driveway. Suddenly, she began to feel like she might be sick from the sheer terror that lingered inside her chest. "We're here..." Gojo said, bringing the vehicle to a stop and turning off the engine. She could feel her stomach turn into knots at the mere thought of meeting his parents. He turned towards her with a grin and gave her shoulder a playful bump, "Don't worry. I'll be right next to you the whole time. If they start getting too intense, I'll step in." She nodded, taking a deep breath and opening the car door. Gojo joined her side and grabbed her hand with a grin. "Hey..let's head in, yeah?"

 They approached the house, a modern two-story home with a mix of traditional Japanese architecture. It was quite nice, her eyes observing the detail. Gojo's grip on her hand only tightened as he noticed her growing anxiousness, hoping that it would reassure her. She looked at him, a smile instantly lighting up her face. (Y/N) squeezed his hand back in response, feeling a bit flustered at the fact she was actually holding his hand, something she had never done in the past 5 years of their friendship. Before either of them could speak up, the front door opened. There stood an older couple in sleek casual clothing, his mom had long, straight white hair and his father had shorter wavy white hair. Both had stern looks on their faces as they observed the pair. "Ah, so this is her..." His mom said as they approached, "You've finally brought her home, son."

(Y/N) instinctively bowed at them, wanting to remain respectful. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo." The pair looked at her for a moment, his dad sizing her up carefully as his mom nodded. "We've heard great things. Come in, come in. We would love to get to know you a bit better." His mom gestured the pair forward as she and his father began walking back into the home, his dad glancing back with a serious look on his face. His mother led them into the kitchen, which looked like something out of a cooking show. Gojo gently squeezed her hand, hoping to distract her from the intense stares of his parents. Taking a deep breath, she entered the dining room where Gojo courteously pulled out her chair and pushed it back in after she sat down. She acknowledged his gesture with a grateful nod and a smile. Gojo gave her a reassuring nod as his parents took their seats across from them, with his mother stealing another glance at her before starting to speak. "We are very pleased to finally meet you. Gojo speaks about you so often, and getting to see you in person brings us much joy."

~A lil time skip~

After dinner, there was a lot of chatter at the table. The small talk at first was a bit awkward, but Gojo's parents did what every other parent does when their child invites a love interest over; they shared embarrassing stories from his childhood. It all made sense now why Gojo was the way he was, as his adventures and mischievous behavior as a child had contributed to his personality. As they all laughed, her eyes met Gojo's, and she felt an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach. She noticed his eye contact lingered on her a few seconds longer than it should, and there was almost a faint blush on his cheeks. She couldn't take her eyes off him, noticing little things about his body movements and mannerisms that just felt slightly different from their usual ones around each other. Throughout the rest of their time at the table, she could feel Gojo's eyes on her, as if he wasn't even listening to the current conversation. Eventually, Gojo's parents and (Y/N) stood from the table, catching him off guard. (Y/N) looked at him confused and motioned her head to the door with a small smile. "Hey, it's getting late."

As they walk out the door together, (Y/N) turns and waves, yelling her goodbyes from the driveway, feeling more comfortable now with their presence. She smiles big as she gets into the car, closing the door. Gojo cranks the car and seems to be a bit off. "What's wrong?" she quietly says, glancing over at him with a worried look, "You were a bit quiet after dinner." He looks over at her and smiles, trying to hide what he is feeling. He can tell she's picking up on his emotions, and that worries him a bit. He pulls out of the driveway, driving for a few seconds before speaking up, "Nah, nothing. Just a lot on my mind. My parents were just getting on my nerves a bit is all." 

They share a pause of silence before (Y/N) speaks up, sounding very apologetic. "Oh, I'm sorry Satoru. I didn't mean to upset you by laughing. I was just trying to make conversation with your parents."

 "That's not what I mean..." He paused for a moment, thinking of how best to explain his thoughts. "I liked seeing you laugh. It was nice." He paused for a few seconds as he looked at her from his peripheral vision, trying to gauge her response before looking at the road again. She smiled even though she was a bit confused, feeling at ease knowing he wasn't upset with her, "You make me laugh all the time, though?"

He chuckled at her response, glancing at her again as he thought about what to say. Just do it. It's what you've wanted all night. Why back out now? Just say it. "You make me happy...is what I mean" 

 There it was. That feeling again. Feeling a bit surprised by his seemingly cryptic response, she looks at him, wanting to read into his words correctly. If he meant what she thought he meant, she wanted to come clean too. "You make me happy too, Gojo." He smiles brightly, taking a deep breath with a look of relief on his face. He can't stop himself from taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. He looks over and gives her that playful, devilish grin of his. "Well, well, well. Look at you, all confident." She playfully nudges him hard, feeling a bit flustered as he seemingly puts the attention on her, "Oh, shut up. You're the one who said it first." He laughs at the sudden jab on his abdomen and looks over, amused at her playful anger. "Yeah.. So? You were obviously flirting with me the whole night, too, so don't go trying to deny it all of a sudden." He looks back straight ahead, making his eyes wide with a grin spreading across his face. She gasps at the false accusation he threw at her, looking at him sternly. "Oh, says the man who was eye fucking me at the table!" He bursts into laughter as he can't contain the noise any longer. His fingers squeeze hers tightly as he looks her over with that look in his eyes. "Heh heh.. guilty. I might've been." She groans and rolls her eyes, holding a smile back as she turns towards the window.

As they drove, he chuckled and continued to gaze at her with a slight grin on his face. The air was filled with a comfortable silence. After a few moments, he broke the silence with a question. "Are we even pretending anymore?" She thought for a moment as they stopped at a red light, then looked back at him. "I...don't know, are we?" They remained silent for a few seconds before he replied with one word. "No." He followed her lead and turned to face her. 

They shared a lingering look before Gojo leaned over and connected their lips in a soft kiss, catching her off guard. She eased into the kiss, closing her eyes and moving slightly closer to him to tighten their locked lips. They embraced each other tightly as they kissed (one of his hands still on the wheel ofc), with each moment making their hearts beat faster and faster. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, which made her want him even more. There was a lingering sense of ecstasy and pure bliss that filled her mind as they continued to hold the kiss, neither one wanting to pull away just yet. 

Then, a sudden and loud car horn startled them both, causing them to jump back into their original positions. The car behind them continued to honk as the green light illuminated their flustered and embarrassed faces. Despite the awkward situation, (Y/N) couldn't help but start giggling, Gojo joining in as he began to drive. His hand rested on her thigh during the remainder of the drive as they snickered and joked about the events that had just unfolded. 

The chatter between the two eventually subsided as they pulled into (Y/N)'s driveway. The pair exited the car and walked up to the porch. (Y/N) nudged Gojo and said, "I had a great time tonight. Thank you for inviting me to your parents' dinner. They were both lovely."

 "I'm happy my parents approve," he said with a serious expression, stepping back after giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "It was my pleasure having you around. You were an absolute delight." He winked at her and chuckled. "Otherwise, that dinner would've been a lot more awkward if they didn't." 

(Y/N) took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "Mannn, that would have sucked," she laughed, and Gojo joined in. "For sure. We can't have you becoming the target of their lectures too, now can we?" He smiled and playfully poked her on the shoulder. "Anyways, it's quite late, and I should get going, so you can get some rest. Unless you want me to stay the night and protect you from those evil cursed spirits? I could always cuddle and give you forehead kisses." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She giggled at his "smooth talk" and sarcastically said, "Say, how'd you know I have a cursed spirit problem?" 

She turned to the door and unlocked it, heading inside and leaving the door wide open for him. 

*Hi, thank you for reading if you've read this far! I haven't written fan fiction since like middle school, so if the writing or story seems jank, then I apologize. Requests are open if you feel like submitting something! Again, thank you!!!!* EDIT: Hi, again! Soo for some weird reason, a few paragraphs like..duplicated over top of each other? I'm low-key embarrassed, but it should be fixed now!!

[noacfapologyst]

birthday surprise — matty healy

(the birthday party: day two)

summary: even surrounded by people he loves and people he doesn't know at his birthday party, matty feels alone. by chance or by consequence, he finds a piece of his past that it stirs absolutely everything in the depths of his soul.

warnings: mention of alcohol, approach to loneliness, flashbacks of the past. cry on your birthday (guilty). open ending (maybe?)

wordcounter: 4,8k

Birthdays are one of the things Matty has enjoyed most since he was a kid. It's not just the fact of seeing all the people he wants in one place or the gifts he receives, although obviously that's also a plus for the basis, but the most important reason boils down to another: Matty has learned to celebrate being alive, to have a day, or a year more to live.

Maybe for the same reason, one of the environments Matty is best known for could be at parties. He always gathers endless crowds inside the walls of his house, always ends up being crazy between the amount of mess he has to clean up afterwards and the mess he has to take care of while they dance drunk on the tables and sing without being able to stop.

He has never considered himself a person of few friends, but he doesn't think he has a huge amount either because he's had to leave a lot of people behind. He has the necessary ones to be good with himself and with them, his presence does not suffocate them and they know how to understand him even when he cannot control himself and impulsivity controls him. But he's calm, he always is.

Of course, he now finds himself in a situation where many people entering his house are unknown to him because they are companions of his friends, or acquaintances of them. And God, Charli gathered a crowd in here. He recognizes them because he believes he went to high school with one or two, the few years he attended before deciding to miss an exam to go to a music festival.

Entities mix because he fails to recognize among low-profile, famous or just known people who have found out. In a way, it feels a bit like a party I'd throw if I was 18 and walked out of a Santbury's with several bottles in my hand and on my head. But it is not, because he is 35 and is in the middle of going through his thirties crisis.

Although now he deduces that none of it matters to him. He's much better than fine. He has gone from having the weight of a feather to getting stronger and seeing its fruits after many months without stopping at the gym. It has healed in all senses: broken heart, mental frailty, bad habits and addictions. Or at least in most of them, because he still smokes and still drinks alcohol, but at least now he equates it with something else and knows he can control it better. It's not entirely perfect, it could never be because that's metaphorically what the human being represents: a canvas that looks beautiful, beautiful and honest until you see the poorly made brushstrokes, over and over again until a result bulges.

"Hey, come to the kitchen." George awakens him from his thought with a touch. Matty leaves the beer can half-open on a shelf in the living hallway.

Then they arrive in the kitchen amidst a tumult of people that opens up in their path. The open backyard door is a plus because it's a good place to get some cold air and realize that he's lost a lot of stability and composure after several beers and a few more shots.

Ross is leaning on the recently acquired white marble countertop, as he opens a bottle of Don Perignon and the foam splashes over the top of the bottle. With quick movements, he pulls seven glasses from the shelf, and fills them to distribute later.

"Let's toast in honor of Matty, because it's his birthday and we love him. And we are incredibly proud of him." Ross cheers, while everyone raises their glasses. Charli applauds with the palms of his hands, and everyone knows that he has lost his mind. Matty smiles as much for that last act as for what his friend has just said, it's really an honest smile and full of feeling though he may not be able to prove it now.

Everyone toast, and then Carly pulls out of her purse a digital camera to capture the moment in eternity. They take a selfie together: George, Matty, Ross, Adam, Carly, Charli, and Chloe. Then there are some spontaneous ones between the four guys, the girls and one of each of them with Matty.

"Oh, my boys. I love all of you so much. You are the best on my life, really." It's finally Matty drinking the champagne out of his glass. Feel the golden bubbling liquid falling down your throat. "Thanks for everything you've done for me throught this years, forever."

When the conversation becomes that emotional tone that always happens on birthdays, it is also the moment when the bubble of intimacy breaks and everyone leaves that state.

"Hey I'm sorry, but there's not more ice." A woman's voice sounds from the frame of the kitchen, but Matty can't recognize her even when he looks at her with a frown.

"Oh! Now I'll bring more, thank you darling." Matty answers almost automatically as if he had given up control of his head. Actually the words are leaking out of her mouth but it's nothing too worrying yet, and she hopes it stays that way. "Some of you know who is?" He receives negative responses after the restlessness and sighs sillylyly laughing. "Thanks for all, friends."

A song by the Backstreets Boys begins to ring through the speaker in the living room and resonates between all the divisions of the house. Taking advantage of the commotion and celebration about it all he leaves the kitchen and disperses. Matty searches for a bag of ice from the fridge, breaks the wrapper with scissors and takes it to the main table where he places it in the fountain designed to keep the cold.

When he crosses the center of the dance floor, many people greet him and flatter him, giving him little shouts of love or complete sobriety, and more than one even asks him to dance for a few moments.

For a moment he manages to put away the idea of how he is the only one in his group of friends who has no one, which becomes more raw when he sees too many couples kissing on his couch, also generates a bit of disgust but he doesn't want to feel like a snob. He did the same thing and doesn't know when he stopped doing it but he understands the adrenaline generated by kissing someone when you're drunk and hot in public spaces, even if it's a pretty adolescebte attitude.

He takes his beer from where he left off and goes on. They have all built long-lasting relationships or are in the process, which makes sense for the age that passes.

He's okay with that, too. Yeah, logically, he´d like to have someone to dance together right now and then sneak out to enjoy a moment alone. Intertwining his hands with someone and having someone fixed to wake up with every morning while the smell of coffee runs through the room. He wants it the same way people who don't have it do, but he thinks he needs a break now.

Her last love attempts have gone overboard, and further down. They have simply come out disastrously and reject the idea that he wants to have for love: it all ends in silly discussions about mundane and monotonous everyday things that make up a ball that explodes, then everything weakens and the routine too tiresome. He wanted to live in the madness with which he used to live love in his 20s, where there was no fear of the future and only the expectation of living in the present.

Remember that frenzy of love when he was a teenager, when it is the purest love you contemplate inside you, when the barrier of who is going to judge you and the responsibilities are inhibited and you just go drunk with love walking down the streets arriving at the door with different flowers every day. He wants to love and get it right this time, obviously, but he doesn't want the person he leaves his legacy with abruptly taking away the magic of love Matty once had.

By the same token, he takes care of letting it flow. He's not waiting for anyone and he's hoping that things will just get better. She doesn't know if her future is to love someone and make it work, but she doesn't give up hope.

"I'm going to smoke, just in case." He says, when he sees Carly near him. He knows she's the one he can trust most because she's the most sober and the least alcoholic.

"Stay safe, Matty. Hope I won't have to look for you." She approaches him and kisses him on the cheek in an act of love, something like a motherly love. Even though she's only a little older than him, since she's with Adam she considers Matty to be completely special to her, and she loves him as much as she literally loves her children.

He says goodbye to her and walks to find the back door sneaking around. He looks the place and he see that there are really not so many people huddled together in the same place as they are scattered. The courtyard is huge, after the cement floor the grass extends along perhaps half a kilometer, where in the middle there is a swimming pool, and in the width there are some palm trees that accompany it. In the background there is a gate that leads to a construction connected to the house, but for which Matty is not responsible.

He looks for a place under the palm tree, the breeze that the leaves cause as they move embraces him at dawn. It's funny to him, he sneaks away just like he did all his life at these kinds of events, punctually on his birthday. He loves people and loves being with them, but at some point he needs to isolate himself from that same environment and have air to himself.

He fiddles with the lighter between his fingers passing it from hand to hand until he decides to pull a mentholed cigarette out of the pocket of his black leather bomber.

"Matty?" A whisper of the wind reaches his ears, although he does not know where it comes from, he acknowledges that there are not so many people who call themselves that.

He hears footsteps on freshly cut grass and hears crackling under his shoes. The only light out there comes from a curtain of lights hooked to the grill, so it's pretty dark.

But then a female presence appears in front of him. He really does nothing but admire her and for once his eyes run out of the cylinder he is about to light.

The two look into each other's eyes, Matty feels his whole life is passing before his eyes and is afraid he's having a concussion, or he's having a stroke. It doesn't make sense for her to be here in front of him after all these years.

"y/n?" He dares to ask. He doesn't have anyone around to confirm his presence there so he hopes he's not too drunk to hallucinate and hopes he's really on the physical plane. "I'm sorry, it's just…wow." Her tongue catches the words as her head runs a thousand miles after seeing her nod to get out of her trance.

"Isn't it?" With every word the past moves down the earth for both him and her. Too many, too many layers of memories that were left behind many years ago now threaten to float as if they could seep through the holes in the green ground.

There is a prolonged silence for a few seconds. Actually, nobody knows what to say because everything seems like a fantasy about to be pricked with a pin and nobody wants to go beyond that.

Matty's looking at her. She has always had that carefree but wrinkled profile and he recognizes her under the black dress sleeveless dress glued to her body and the hair cut on her shoulder, with the last minute scissors marks and something uneven. She complements it with high-cane boots, something like the ones she defined as her favorites too long ago. She still has that sparkle she had when she was a teenager, she's still incredibly beautiful without asking. He looks at her surprised that she's here, grateful to see her once more. He can't stop thinking about it, but she's really radiant.

She looks at him. He has changed a lot from the superficial, his hair is now almost shaved, only with hints of hair growing on his entrances. She doen't need to inquire to know that his fitness owes it to the gym, even under his jacket she can see how well marked are his muscles compared to the little skinny teenager she met a long time ago. The expression on his face did not change, if he looks into his eyes he still finds the frightened child because he does not know if things will turn out well, but also the child waiting for his mother after school to give her a hug. She has a white T-shirt that's stuck to her body and her tattoos are transparent. She looks at him impressed.

"Hey." He breaks the silence by speaking softly but with total softness. She smiles at him without showing her teeth and Matty feels something rising up her body. "What are you doing here?"

He is lying against a palm tree, she is standing nearby but neither wants to move into the position of the other, there is some barrier that prevents it and possibly it is discomfort.

"I'm the babysitter of my sister and her friends, they are your brother's friends." She anwers by returning the tone of calm. "In fact, I found out today."

"Wait, really?" He answers, and for a moment the atmosphere seems to disappear only because he is seeing everything through it. "But Louis is not there." He shrubs his shoulders.

"Yes, I noticed that. I guess he told the others in some nonsense conversation." She analyzes how he hasn't lit a cigarette since he arrived. "Are you going to turn it on or?"

Matty feels like a fool. "Do you continue smoking?" Ask without a second thought. He just wants to know what's in her life now. "Sorry, what about my maners, do you want one?

"No, but I'll share one just for the old times." She smiles at him again, and he mentally keeps the memory of how the burgundy color highlights the cheekbones of the white skin of the woman in front of him.

"Do you want to sit?"

"I'm alloweed to?" Matty is restless under such a formal tone and considers that the passage of the years now takes its points.

"Of course." Now he's the one smiling at her. "Are you still in the same job?

She laughs slowly, refuses with her head a bit apart. "God, no. I work in a notary's office now, but I'm more comfortable." She answers, he opens his lips in surprise, a whistle escapes from her lips. "May I suggest why are you here and not inside dancing with the others?" She asks with some shyness as she approaches to sit down, without doing so facing or beside him, as at an angle of seventy-five.

"Maybe you know the answer. It hasn't changed." He answerd and when he feels that he is drowning in too much of the past, he lights the cigarette. He pauses and takes a drag.

"You still get loneliness sometimes." She reasons, he nods with a look of pity and gave her the cigarette. "I really didntt know this was your house."

"It's quite different from the old porch, it doesn't have a loft with a balcony or red tiles either, but i like it." He sighs embracing the melancholy that escapes from his bone structure. "How did you get here?

"My friend was dizzy from so many people and then I lost her because of a child." She laughs wryly. "I started walking and then I reached the palm tree, and maybe I understood the host of the party."

"¿Yes?"

"How many people do you know whose birthday is April 8th, Matty?" She stares at him with direct intent. He flies in the nebula. She remembers her birthday.

"You still remember it." He has a smile that runs through his face from end to end, he feels satisfied with the interaction, whatever it takes. She leaves the cigar in her hand and the touch makes him shake.

Matty's head is about to fall apart. He himself sees how his vision becomes twofold, one leaving him in reality under the palm tree, and the other teleporting him 22 years ago to a rather similar place.

It's autumn, the leaves of the trees turn yellow and fall to the ground. There's a breeze but it's not cool or threatening, it's friendly. Matty's eighteen now, he's of age.

On the other side of the race to see who gets to the pile of leaves first, there's her. She's dressed as simple as if she'd just gotten up, the blue skinny jeans and a black shirt with a print of some band scratched by the number of times she's washed. They're both older, but running down the alleys of New Castle looks like they're 12 still.

The muddy shoes, their coats that shelter them both, her bracelet tied to his hand, the kiss on the cheek when greeting each other, the butterflies every time they look at each other. The celebration of walking, the adrenaline of winning the race to the leaves and rolling in them.

Matty abandons everything else, leaving behind the nightmares, his parents' parties and sleepless nights when he has her. He's happy with her, he feels protected and nothing can hurt him. He loves her, with all his heart. He's eighteen, newly grown, wears glasses that slip on the tip of his nose but make him look smart. It has some protruding pimples between the cheek and forehead, but in sunlight it still looks like a baby's skin, fragile to the touch.

He doesn't know when he fell so in love with her, he doesn't know when he found the connection and when it began to appear in his innermost dreams. He couldn't stop thinking about her and all her dreams, the dress she wore on her birthday, the hug after the holidays. Every touch gives Matty years to live, and although he's been a sad kid for most of his life, he'll always be grateful that she changed that.

"You are eighteen, you can run fast." She says in a competitive tone, without slowing down.

"I will win, idiot." He's self-proclaimed.

"And if you do, what will you get? A painful coronation as king of the leaves." She jokes and throws herself headfirst on the leaves of the ground. "I told you."

But Matty was willing to win.

"I already decided my prize." Vitorea approaching the leaves, diving into them.

"You didn't wi-"

Matty doesn't think about what's going on, he just lets the impulse take him further and control him. It may be his only chance, and it may ruin it, but he have to try before he let any more time pass.

She is in shock on the leaves when she feels the lips of Matty on top of hers. She doesn't understand what's happening, or if it's really happening. The only thing she remembers afterwards is feeling Matty's hand squeezing her cheek with soft caresses. He kisses as much as he can, and after a while she gets used to the movement.

They go on like this, without saying a word for many minutes. Their sequence and their need is to kiss until the lack of breath wakes them up, smile with their noses stuck and merge again. Maty tastes like mint and chocolate, so it's the flavor she'll love the most for the next two years. Teenagers at the height of their purest love.

"Didn't I tell you? I would win." Matty comments when both feel they have shared too much saliva, but he does not take his hand off her cheek.

The wind is blowing in both heads. They have never known love this way, and they will remember it so well for the years that this love lasts, and for a few more.

Actually, and though Matty doesn't know it yet, she, sitting in Matty's house, is thinking about the same fall of memories. She feels like she's about to die and the best years and moments of her life go by, they've always had that facility of telepathic connection without having to try. Also because, for a long time, it was the memory they most enjoyed in years.

Matty then sees, in his memories, everything he's longed for for so many years. Midnight getaways, intense kissing at nightclubs, family meals, she dressed in him on Sundays, family trips, snow wars with her kisses sunk in the snow. He sees fireworks now that he remembers her, how he was first in everything for her and how she has marked him even more than he can say.

After that comes the band, and even before and after the previous names. But he focuses on when the band is already confirmed as Drive Like i Do and then like 1975, he sees her sitting at the table listening to them rehearsing, he sees heer at the clubs drinking beer and screaming crazy when he comes out in his most misaligned ensemble.

Matty may never have said it like that, but the girl he fell in love with is part of the band just like them. Almost the entire first album has its muse, in each of the stanzas and in each of the notes of the compass. She has followed him for all these years, it has been his greatest point of inspiration and of genuine and re-created love. She has given him the best years when he was twenty, he has written the songs he enjoys most thanks to her.

But equally, to say that he hasn't forgotten her or that he's remembered her like that for fifteen years without seeing her since she left in her twenties, would be lying. He remembered her for years, but then he was no longer present in her mind.

She can't judge him. Maybe she waited longer, but she had to move on anyway.

But it's okay, they existed at the time they had what. They learned enough from each other to remember each other fondly.

"You think about that autumn too, didn't? "During all this trance, the connection has become stronger. The discomfort is ignored, and she ends up sitting next to him.

"You are inside my mind, literally." He laughs with his eyes full of glass. He just had a recession that knocked him down. "Yes, I thought about it."

"That autumn was the best of my life. The fucking golden time." She confesses, with the moon now fully reflecting her. He looks at her with a longing smile, he also misses feeling so complete. "I have loved you for so many years and I think I could do it for more."

She complains hugging herself. Matty leaves the previous state and now the alcohol seems to have lost its effect. He extends his hand to put it behind the brunette girl's back and draw her in. The woman's head rests on his chest.

"I have loved you too, you know? The first album is about you." He kisses her hair, but she can't help but cry. They are breaking up with each other next to them and that's why they prefer not to be seen. It's too strong for both. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" She looks up. The brown eyes meet the eyes of the british man.

"I-I screwed up that June afternoon, and I carried the blame for many years. I've never really been able to apologize, and I know the last thing you got from me was a horrible argument. I'm sorry, it won't fix something so many years later, but it's sincere." He manages to loosen a gear that has been weighing on him for a long time. He finds serenity in the brightness of the moon, and though he knows he can't go back in time, when she intertwines his hands he thinks he hasn't gone too far.

"Thank you for that. I know it's your party, but you don't have to cry to the end." She kisses his cheek and wipes his tears with her fingernails painted dark red, then returns to his neck. She repents and prefers to sit in front of him. "But it was true, wasn't it? Did you fuck everybody in this town?" She asks, without any resentment or sense of judgment.

"You compromised me, honey." He nods nervously accompanied by a laugh. In fact, he's still crying, but he's feeling much better. More airy, more connected and more peaceful. "I missed the car and the argument."

The two laugh at each other, it's an atmosphere that has now become more comfortable than ever. She has got her makeup destroyed by tears and he is s getting water marks through the seams of his shirt.

"The end of that hallway was fateful." She ironizes it with a recharged energy that dances inside. It feels as if she is now the final part of a song that breaks the melody and raises the instruments to a higher level to close it in the greatest ecstasy. "Even so, maybe you were right a few years ago. You needed more than me." She points to itself and then points to the atmosphere.

"Sorry, I don't get it." He feels bewitched by her words, but is so deep inside that he can't even think about what she's saying.

He just knows she comes, again. He sees her crawling and crawling up to his lap. He's afraid that this will still be a bad trick in his head and that tomorrow she'll never have been here. She'll be in another country, with someone else, and without him. His heart pumps like it has seldom done.

He knows they're soul mates, or he used to know, and now he's reconfirming it. Now there's only one thing that separates them and one thing that could bring them together.

"You needed a cigarette, alcohol and a sad conversation." She finally answers, as she settles down to her mercy on his lap. Matty feels like he has a fever when he feels the back of her palm on his face. It's been floating for over 15 minutes. "As i do."

After this, it just happens.

After 15 years, they're kissing in Matty's backyard. The two cry in between, because they haven't recovered from the emotional delirium they just had, but the fireworks they once had at eighteen come back the second their lips touch.

He hasn't changed, Matty still smells like chocolate and mint. She neither, she tastes the same as always does, she still tastes well enough to satiate Matty. They remain exactly the same for each other and what they still need.

The kiss does not have a taste to be described by or a unique feeling. It is the taste of remembrance and reunion, of melancholy, of adolescence, it is pure nostalgia in its splendor. It tastes like sadness, the tears of the last time they argued, and in turn it tastes as the ice cream they ate holding hands in the park, the chocolate they always gave each other as a gift. It tastes as Christmas food and the summer breeze. It's all together in one, and that's why they don't bother to feel sorry for how the waterfalls in the eyes accumulate coming down later.

A kiss, that's all. Matty doesn't want to think, but he inevitably does and finds only two options.

Tomorrow you will both remember this and you will both retire by lowering your guard and remember it as a secret. There is no one around to prove the presence and existence of the woman he has there, no one has seen her and the easiest excuse is to say that he simply confused everything with someone else because of the amount of beer. Or they could tempt fate and stay there, they could heal the wound and they could try again to have the best they ever had.

But now, does it matter?

"Hey." She puts pressure on his hair. He opens his eyes feeling fuller and more human than ever. "Happy birthday, Matty. The birthday boy always needs a gift."

let me know what you think about it. my taglist is always open. 🤍

[tiredwitchmachine]

Summary: Alice meets the others in the group and opens up about her mom a bit (Chapter 2 to my Day 1 piece)

Written for Agatha All Along Week Day 2 - Prompt: Non Magic

(I'm not the proudest of this but I wanted to post something for all the days so-)

Fic Under the Cut:

Alice isn’t sure what she was expecting when Billy invited her to join his “coven” as he called them, but it certainly isn’t the group she’s suddenly found herself surrounded by. In her mind, they fit together like a mismatched pair of socks, and they bicker like they’re all in some kind of sitcom.

The leader of the group is clearly Agatha, with her air of authority and the fact that she introduced herself (again) as such. She dresses in all purple and keeps her wild hair up in a bun that’s barely being held together by a thin purple hair tie. Alice also takes note of the fact that half the things she says to people are just thinly veiled insults and she’ll smirk when she knows they hit the target. 

The next one she meets is Jennifer Kale, or Jen as everyone calls her. Like Agatha wore purple, her entire wardrobe seems to be pink, along with her backpack and lunchbox. Alice watches in awe as she bites back at Agatha’s mean-spirited remarks with clever comebacks, sometimes even meaner than what the purple wearing group leader said first. Then she turns to Alice and strikes up a conversation about her makeup and fashion, offering to hook her up with some new makeup products from a company Alice is 90% certain is a scam. 

Then there’s Lilia, who Alice immediately clocks as someone who’d fit right in with her mom's old groupies. She seems older than her years, not helped by the fact that she dresses in all thrift store clothes and sometimes forgets what she’s saying halfway through the sentence. The first time it happens, Alice nearly panics, until Billy explains that “she just does that sometimes” and “it’s nothing to worry about”. She’s not sure she believes him. 

As far as she can tell, Sharon just seems happy to be there. She dresses in all florals and has her hair in a bob. Alice is convinced she’d fit right in with anyone, and that’s why it perplexes her so much that she’s sitting around with this group of outcasts. 

And of course, there’s Billy, the reason she’s even sitting with this group in the first place. He seems almost shy at first, until someone makes a comment, and he almost instantly develops a sharp tongue to respond in kind. She can see now why he and Agatha are still friends, despite all her mean words and jabs, the two of them fit together in a weird way and she’s pretty sure they’re holding each other back from terrorizing anyone else. 

Last but not least, she meets Rio. Dressed all in green, she shows up late to the table with a flower in her hair and spider in a see-through cage she sets down on the table between her and Agatha, before immediately locking onto Alice like a predator to its prey. 

“For the last time, Rio, stop bringing that thing to the lunch table.” Jen shudders, moving closer to Alice so she doesn’t have to be close to the spider. 

“She doesn’t bite. Much.” Rio responds with a shrug, still looking at Alice. “So, who’s the new girl?” 

“This-” Billy breaks out in a big smile, like a little kid showing off a toy at show-and-tell. “-is Alice Wu-Gulliver!”

“She’s the dead rockstars kid.” Agatha stage-whispers to Rio and Billy gives her a glare. Alice’s stomach sinks at the comment, but she tries to brush it off, already knowing this is how the girl in purple acts. 

“Oh yeah, I think I heard about that somewhere.” Rio nods, still looking Alice dead-on. “It must suck, losing your mom like that. House fire, right?”

“Ho-hotel fire, actually.” Alice gulps and looks down at her hands. Despite not being close with her mom, talking about her death still makes her stomach twist into knots and her chest feel like it’s compressing. 

Another hand comes to touch hers and she looks up to see Billy, wide eyed and worried. Something wet rolls down her face and she realizes she started crying. Oh, she thinks, going to wipe it away. 

“Sorry.” She mutters, feeling all their eyes on her. “Didn’t mean to start crying.” 

“Hey, no one here’s going to judge.” Jen says matter of factly. “We’ve all been through stuff, some more than others.” 

“Yes, and losing a parent or a parent figure is never easy.” Lilia adds on, offering her a kind smile. “I lost my Maestra when I started high school and I was a wreck. She was practically a mother to me. I can only imagine the pain you’re going through, Alice.” 

“I lost my mom too.” Billy says quietly, as if not sure he wants to say it. “When I was ten. There was an accident, only my brother and I survived. We got adopted to separate families.” 

“I’m sorry,” Alice tells him. He shakes his head and a small smile returns to his face. 

“Don’t be. What I’m - we’re - trying to say is that you’re not alone.” 

“Ugh, you’re such a sap, Teen.” Agatha picks up a potato chip and throws it at him, hitting him square on. 

“What? It’s true! That’s why I brought her here!” Billy retorts, and the banter comes back, much to Alice’s relief. It feels nice, knowing there’s someone she can talk to- a group of people, actually, no matter how strange they are. 

“Hey,” Rio says, catching her attention again, still looking her dead in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you, earlier, with my comment I mean. I’m just fascinated with the concept of it all.” 

“The concept?” 

“The cycle of life.” The girl in green hums. “But I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

“It’s fine, opened the conversation up at least.” 

“Did it help?” Billy asks, turning to her. 

“A little.” She nods. “You did good, kid, inviting me here. I think I could really get used to this group of yours.” 

“Really?” His eyes light up and Alice smiles. 

“Yeah.” She says sincerely. “Besides, it’d be cool to be part of a coven.” 

“We are not called that, stop telling people that, Teen!” Agatha exclaims, throwing another chip at Billy, and Alice watches as the chaos devolves again from there.