#and they dont understand how he knows them apart so fast and none of the other humans seem to tell em apart

[moeblob]

New OCs

(briefly, humans and supernatural beings have to team up for building better relations with each other and all the supernaturals can shapeshift and take on human appearances but also have their 'original form'.)

OK so I was GOING to draw fanart today - I had a fun idea and everything! But health anxiety (and anti-anxiety meds) wore me out so I kinda .... slogged through OCs as a treat to me. I am going to go to the doctor tomorrow so HOPEFULLY it's all okay.

[jams-sims]

I got my first ending and from just this one playthrough. I have a lot of theorys swirling around the ol dome. So spoilers-

Ending 02 is very generic, you take an elevator back to the human world and that's it. But what leads you to finding the exit is suspicious. I avoided scarletta like the plauge to hang out more with Mr.Crawl. it is in this action when I meet scarletta later, its relived how the MC ended up in this weird pocket dimension.

I mean, it's your very classic narrative your challenge to go to a haunted place, by some schoolmates. You go in and it turns out its super fucking haunted. Mc had met scarletta first BUT they had made it back to the real world. Only to realize none of the their classmates made it back. (I could be misremembering, its either they cameback to the human world or woke up in the other dimension either way. They the mc were alone.)

But like I said, I didn't meet scarletta until later and this is when i started noticing something. The only character getting their shit rocked was the MC. Mr. Crawl goes out of his way to protect the MC, but is never hurt. Most of the "ghost" don't target eachother.

What are the rules of this dimension, and honestly, im gonna call it an apartment. Because it is refered to as such by the MC. Its a giant lybrinth of an apartment, where all these ghost get to live. It explains the beds, sheets, chairs, toys. Objects you'd find in an apartment.

I also think this 'apartment' you start at the basement and you work your way up. Chop and Silver occupy lower floors. Mr.crawl, stiches, blue shoe girl are middle floors. Wedding girl, doll, Mr. Hugeface, Scarletta higher floors.

Three i dont even think MC is human by the end of happy end 02. Mr.Hugeface broke the MC inhalf for me and instantly, they are like "this will heal fast, this is fine." Where before if Mr Gap reached his hand out he would snatch up the MC life in a heart beat. Just thinking about it makes me go insane. The MC body is twisted and mangled and they walk it off. This is ontop of not knowing how time works in this world. We also have no clue (so far) how long the MC was down their for. The MC gets dizzy passes out, your skin being to change. How long were you out before waking up.

This also get me thinking because Gap helps you at the end. The guy who kills you 90% of the time helps you. An in exchange he takes your hair. Its also weird but understandable that while trying to exit the apartment. Some shit you stumble across even Mr. Crawl has no idea what it is. You even find a whole bag of makeup, I assumed it belonged to the blue girl in the sos room-

But it could have easily belong to a schoolmate or another victim. How many of the residents are just another MC to far gone. An I wonder if any of them are some of the classmates that went missing. Its just all insane!

[theoldoor]

Canon height difference vashrir save me canon height difference vashrir + post-talia AAWWWHHHGFDFHO

FUUUCKKK I HATE THE OC X CANON BRAINROT CUZ ITS LOWK EMBARRASSSIIIINNGGG

Ok but im not stingy, fenrir is not only to aventurine hes the ip3 little lapdog guy

With topaz he’s the guy who randomly shows up and became the dad (platonically) to the single mom (topaz) and the kid (numby) loves him like a real dad

With Aventurin- ill shut up (theyre each other everything’s at this point, enemies, allies, comrades, family, etc… and they have went through so much they are trauma bonded together like ionic bonds bro i am so giddied up about them. The love for one another that comes so naturally that they doesnt even realize theyre loving the other person, the subconscious worry and care for the other person despite everything and the CHARACTER X CHARACTER’S FOIL TROPE ALWAYS GETS MY ASSSSS THEY WULD LOVE ANYONE, EVEN THE TOTAL OPPOSITES OF THEM, ALL EXCETO THESEMVESLC. Wanting to know each other unapologetically, willingly and no ulterior motives, knowing for the sake of understanding thelakthe iulkdfhasdf. They have their own toxic traits in their dynamic but thats why they work because you cant use a saint to catch a sinner. Bro attachment dude who is desperate for attention and will do anything to get it x avoidant mfer who wants no one to stick with him because he’s afraid to ruin them bro i can aldsfhasohaDAAAAAA. The bickering tempered cat to soft kitty pipe line the trope of when theyre planning of ways to get rid of the other character while the other character thinks of how their future would be like turning into them living in the same space in a future none of them predicted. The trope of one having light in their eyes x no light in their eyes to gave up the light in their eyes for the others light in their eyes forhaeh. Care him like breathing x thinsk he cant be cared for good fucking lord save me. Notices when he’s not around x wish he was special. When auf wiedersehen sweetheart. When fenrir doesnt want to leave so aventurine has to force him to leave whe- saving someone who doesnt want to be saved when a character turn cruel because theyve lost everything x person who refuse to let them hate them when bickering in the beginning but at the end sacrifice for each other when “i dont care for myself” x “ill do it” when when “i wont wait forever” x “what if i did” when not being the strongest but still desperately tries to save the other person when they take care of the same kid togehter when it started out as one couldnt even care less x another desperate for them to even glance at them turns into two people who can’t bear the thought of another person in harm whehtehwehwehwhwhennn-)

Dr Ratio is funny cuz Fenrir is his wet dog pathetic student who can’t read and write but also got a doctorate in like 2 months and now Fenrir is also teaching with Dr Ratio but he’s teaching linguistic and literature. The strict teacher who is strict bc he cares x the chillax teacher who will get scary if he needs to. FFUUUUUCCCK PROFESSOR X PROFESSOR RIVAL AND THEY COMPARE THEIR STUDENTS GRADES TYPE SHIITTT IIMMM AFDLSFJHKAAAUAUHH.

Also post talia fenrir lol

He got a doctorate pretty fast and was invited to join the Riddlers, he considered it but decided not to because Dr Ratio told him so- but he does work with them in the dark. Fenrir would become a professor and although not invited to the Intelligentsia Guild yet, he’s bickering Dr Ratio to.

Since he’s out of Talia, he often hangs around Aventurine’s office and sometimes tag along back to his apartment too to do all the house chores and make dinner so Aventurine can rest. Housewife basically, malewife…. Fenrir….

[septembersghost]

This is something I wondered for awhile. Do you think taylor would have taken harry back pre-joe if he fought hard enough? In all of 1989 he is the one who makes the move but she takes him back almost immediately no matter how many times she says no. This is present in HYGTG("I dont want you to go) and IWYW(that entire song). She also implies he knows how to get under her skin("you always knew how to push my buttons") and it is later proved in style when she chooses him over her rational self(" I should just tell you to leave cuz I know exactly where it leads but I watch us go round and round each time"). In question Taylor asks whether he wishes he put up more of a fight(a similar sentiment "if you wanted me you really should have showed" is in 'the 1' but that still feels like a speculation). In HS1 he explicitly says he wants her to apologise and therefore he wasn't making any moves this time( I also saw someone saying him constantly apologising probably made him powerless). I know he wrote songs but that isn't as same as fighting for them. We also know she was putting up with CH and really wanted to leave him. Plus considering how he was still threatened by H I think even some part of him probably suspected it. So do you think they had any shot pre joe if h fought?

this is really impossible to gauge without feeling like projection because we don't know what taylor's life would've looked like had joe not been there, and personally i think he really was meant to be there for her at that precise moment in time, when everything was falling apart, when she was in a such a fragile and dark place. some people don't like to hear this, but she clearly believes he saved her life. she's expressed that in lyrics repeatedly at this point - it doesn't diminish her strength or what she did for herself to recover and forge a path ahead, but the fact that she didn't have to do that alone, or bear everything alone, is monumental, and her life has completely changed, shifted, and blossomed around that. none of that would've been possible with harry, and it has nothing to do with who harry is as a person, and everything to do with both of their careers and their high pressure positions. he couldn't have grounded her and given her the sense of stability and normalcy that joe did. it puts us into a bit of an AU what-if, because there was overlap with ch, and because we'd have to presume things like snakegate didn't happen (which! i wish it hadn't for every possible reason). if he'd been willing to fight at a time when she was desperately trying to find her way OUT from how bad things got with ch, she might've been tempted to grab hold of him as a lifeline (which would've been understandable), but i worry it still would've been a getaway car situation where they both got extremely hurt because she was not in a good place, and harry at that point wouldn't have been equipped to give her the support she needed. and you're right that writing songs isn't the same as fighting for someone or reaching out, it's an artistic catharsis, but not a direct one - which is why he called it unspoken dialogue, because it was expressed, but not between them, rather through their music. i'm not sure i'd necessarily call the songs or the apologies powerless, but there is a causal distance. i do think they had a real connection and love for one another, and some unique understandings of each other because of their fame at young ages, their fast rises, and their connection to their music/songwriting too, there's a certain symmetry between them. actually this makes me think of something that was in daisy jones: "it's easy to confuse a soulmate with a mirror." they shared such potent mirrors with one another. in a different world, maybe that could've become a twin flame, but that's not how it was supposed to play out for them. i truly don't know if there was a chance for them in there at any point, if anything in their lives could've been less hectic. if they had reunited, the crash down might've been worse the next time - and having already experienced the paradise, the colors, and the pain of the burning flames, it probably would've made them cautious to reignite it, so they healed and moved forward. the one thing i do hope is that they have some measure of a friendship (and from their very warm interactions, i don't think it's far-fetched to believe they do), and i'd rather them find their way to that than have been caught in an acrimonious split. taylor found the person whose hand she was meant to hold (and i hope someday harry does too!).

[fkyumerica]

Jan 18, 2024, 8:06 AM

 

none of them understand english

their parents bought them a fucking house

or waiting to sell theirs

i hope they all burn in hell

there were only a few women that thought it too

wynona ryder

joan jett

can you tell

i hate you

all

meant their kids and offspring too

and a bitch after

she cant put two together did mated them

one house built to the next over and over

didnt buy a acre to do it again

tear down and rebuild

cannot move from it

their entire family

north korea will win

communism

is it

they wont listen to understand

and hey came over and robbed no their own parents had more kids

black announcer in front

and their kids kids got a house that mated and so on

disgusting

and i dont care i built it on your lawn too and that is my house and im in it

anne marie behind announcer

and she married him inbred and edited plastic surgery to look like me

and changed cameras too its not me

purikura

a word that meant

pussy holding you

Jan 18, 2024, 10:57 AM

its my melody's birthdday

hello kitty bunny

1998 look at these assholes, who took up the whole stadium to be the team

the you live next door

18 generations in 5 years

"grew in"

one tree

how many times you inbreed

2

look down, 4

look up 5 "or more"

the guy with the ccigar that isnt leon

was in the other photo

up to 20

got the most

and 25 his dad said and cried A assistant captain

and xyzerman said he did the most

his dad on left with hat in suit saw it

he confessed it

OOH

to get the goals

by the left

and left corner top

85

the most out of all ape eyes

then under stanley cup on left ape eyes i did the most

they were detroit area men

and before you kill a guy

which one is he

after 2 days you can find out ask his mom

this wwas dearborn heights, gays invaded there

i was there

girls gave birth

not around me though

they would leave after if you said it

and retarded? say it.

vampire on tv

timmy?

and that house hold of family dead but mom alive

take her to court

the rest show up

prison court

in prison

and execute they can only go in one room

st. valentines day massacre

now theyre all fast speed ice skating

and visiting team cant bring their family

its insane do you watchthe games?

st. valentines day massacre

now theyre all fast speed ice skating

and visiting team cant bring their family

its insane do you watchthe games?

Jan 18, 2024, 11:38 AM

these people are so delusional

not knowing what the world around them is

not knowing what is it in

communism

not understanding that people in new york will meet someone at a porn theater and fuck in their houses or anywhere after

apartments

were the houses for people who fuck around

anne marie condo

has a kid

and hey moved back in with parents

i am pulling out my whole closet

for storage things

and

shoveling

Jan 18, 2024, 12:09 PM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0Ag0VKJ51Y he got the whole turkey

prepositions

3

Rammstein - Rammstein LIVE 05.07.2022 2022 Nijmegen, Netherlands

we went to 8 in a row

and england

Jan 18, 2024, 10:08 PM

CAKE - Stickshifts and Safetybelts (Official Audio)

hahahah

hell yes

hell tea chicken pickin country guitar

johnnycash ass fucked boys for music

girls just screamed

yeaaaaaaaaa

after BTK

let it happen put me in a house

i figured it out

and the ones they took out infants of the pile lay down and watch it

goooo

needed ones to scream to it

they lived on sand with nothing thereee

no buildings

wisconsin

not michigan

white eyes like statues might of been people in love and no one was allowed to see it

[marvelousescapism]

i have a hot take: given that steve probably grew up around many first generation immigrants, including eastern europeans, and that new york is a generally very diverse place + that we know steve's a smart boy and probably has a very good memory, there's no way steve wouldn't recognize a little bit of russian at least. like, EE languages have a lot of similarities and with the amount of polish ppl, lithuanians etc that came to NY in the early 20th century im sure he would've picked up Something

like i know everyone's on about how bucky's a polyglot and knows like, every single language on earth bc of hydra but like. honestly in my opinion it would absolutely make sense for steve to be bilingual at Least and i dont know why people don't get on that more often? like the serum enhanced All of him that must include his memory or cognitive abilities to some extent and i dont see how he wouldnt be 100% invested in learning as much as he can esp with the opportunities he got in the future

Steve overhears Nat and Bucky talking shit in Russian all the time. They don't know he knows a little bit of Russian, but he picks up on key phrases like "idiot boyfriend" and "pain in the ass" and "he's lucky he's pretty" and understandably gets... curious. He takes up Russian classes at the weekend and doesn't tell anyone.

"Just doing extra shifts at the soup kitchen, Buck! Don't worry!"

Steve's a fast learner and, with what he knew already, pretty soon he can understand, like, 80% of the conversations they're having. Pretends he's still none the wiser.

One day, he's making lunch while Bucky relaxes on the sofa, bitching on the phone to Natasha in Russian about how "yeah, my idiot boyfriend didn't take out the kitty litter tray last night so now the apartment smells like cat pee. I know, I know, I'm gonna leave it on his pillow next time he forgets it's his turn."

He waits patiently, listening into the conversation, waiting for the perfect moment to slide right in with the perfect clap-back in his perfected Russian accent (best in his class, says his teacher (she's really nice - she gives him a smiley-face sticker whenever he does well on a test)).

He's on his way over to Bucky with a couple of smoothies when Bucky tells Natasha; "О нет, он понятия не имеет. Я купил кольцо на прошлых выходных, пока он помогал с раздачей еды в столовой для бездомных. И прямо сейчас мне нужно определиться, когда просить его руки."

["Oh, no, he has no idea. I bought the ring last weekend when he was in the soup kitchen. I just need to decide when to propose right now."]

Steve drops the smoothies on the floor. The glass smashes, smoothie splatters everywhere, Bucky jump out of his skin like "Holy shit, Rogers, what the fuck!? Are you okay? What happened!?"

Without thinking, Steve just blurts out "Баки, ты собираешься сделать мне предложение?!" ["Bucky, are you going to ask me to marry you!?"]

Bucky gapes at him for a moment. Blinks. Says to the phone "Hey, Nat? Something happened. I'll call you back." and hangs up. Takes a deep breath.

"Steve... how long have you been able to understand Russian?"

"Uh... quite a long while now..."

"So... you understood everything me and Nat were talking about...?"

"Yes, Bucky."

"Did... did you overhear the thing about your jogging shorts?"

"That you shrunk them in the washing machine on purpose so that they'd hug my butt better? Yeah, I heard that."

"And the thing about the--?"

"--About the cake you bought at the store and told me you baked it yourself? Yeah."

Bucky turns as red as borscht. "Uh... I'm sorry, Stevie."

"You can apologize after the wedding, dumbass."

Bucky grins and Steve forgets about the mess on the floor, practically diving onto the sofa to give Bucky a big sloppy kiss.

[writingwithciara]

Just Another Day ~Miguel Diaz~

summary: y/n and miguel are close friends. y/n believes that valentine’s day is just another day of the year. miguel is a hopeless romantic who constantly dreams of the perfect date. when johnny asks his students for a volunteer to take his little sister out for the night, it only makes sense for it to be miguel.

word count: 1.5k

pairings: miguel diaz x Lawrence!reader, johnny lawrence x sister!reader

warnings: none

a/n: i started this around the time that cobra kai was released on netflix. that was about 2 years. it’s been sitting in my drafts, half completed, since then. i’m releasing it now because it’s valentine’s day. hope you enjoy & happy valentine’s day ❤️💝🌹🍫

masterlist

“you have a date for valentine’s day?” y/n followed her brother around the apartment as he cleaned up. “YOU have a date for the day of love? that sounds like bullshit.”

“well, it’s not.” he threw a couple of bottles in the trash before turning to look at his little sister. “you’re gonna be out that night, correct?”

“well, i would leave the apartment but i dont have any plans.”

“you could always just go hang out at golf n’ stuff.”

“no thanks. that place is going to be crawling with couples & i don’t feel like seeing that. valentine’s day is just another day that is over commercialized and i really don’t find the appeal.”

“if you stay here, you’ll see another couple.”

“well then find me a date for saturday night & i won’t be here to annoy you.”

johnny rolled his eyes and went to his room. he loved his sister, truly, but sometimes she got on his nerves. he wanted her to be happy. she was too young to be cynical about love.

the next day at the dojo, he examined his students, trying to find a suitable date for his sister. his eyes landed on hawk and miguel. either one of them would do, he thought. 

“alright, listen up. saturday is valentine’s day and im assuming neither of you guys have dates. am i correct?”

“actually, sensei, i do have a date with my girlfriend.” hawk smiled and high-fived miguel.

“okay.” he looked at miguel. “what about you?”

“my yaya wants to teach me how to cook.”

“look, someone needs to break their plans.”

“why is that, sensei?”

“because i have a date and my little sister needs to be out of the apartment for the night so i need someone to take her out.”

“oh. why didn’t you just say so? i’ll do it, sensei.”

“what about your yaya?”

“she’ll understand. she adores y/n so much.” miguel smiled. “she isn’t a very big fan of the day but i’m sure i can change her mind.”

“thanks, miguel. just don’t do anything stupid or hurt her, okay?”

“understood, sensei.”

friday came fast and that meant valentine’s day was tomorrow. miguel had already had the perfect date planned out and he tweaked it a little to incorporate some of y/n’s favorite things. he was sure she would love it. all that was left to do was ask her.

“hey, miggy. what are you doing in the library?” y/n looked up from the book she was reading when miguel sat down at the table with her.

“i came here to ask you something super important.”

“okay. i’m intrigued.” she closed the book completely and maneuvered so she was facing him directly. “what’s up?”

“what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“wandering around town because my brother is kicking me out for the night. why?”

“well, maybe you can hang out with me. my mom has a date so my yaya is gonna be watching old soap operas.”

“i love old soap operas. can i hang out with her?”

“what? no. can you please just say you’ll hang out with me?”

“okay. but just so you know, i-”

“i know. you don’t like any of that cheap valentines day crap. no romance, right?”

“as long as there is absolutely no romance planned, i’m in.”

“perfect. i’ll stop by your place and pick you up around 6. sound good?”

“sounds perfect.” she smiled and watched as he left the library happily. miguel diaz was truly one of a kind.

the next night, y/n stood in front of the mirror in her room. she changed her outfit about a hundred times but nothing looked good.

“johnny, can you come here please?”

“what is it? my date will be here soon and i want you gone before she gets here.” he opened her door and looked at her. “what?”

“does this outfit look fine? i’m hanging out with miguel tonight and i can’t decide on a decent outfit.”

“you look fine. i’m sure he won’t care about what you’re wearing. he likes spending time with you.”

“he does?”

“yeah, i think so.” johnny scanned her bedroom and sighed. “i hope you’ll be cleaning this up later.”

“obviously. i may be a Lawrence but i’m not a slob.” she smiled and dodged the jacket he threw at her. she began to pick up a few things when she heard miguel’s special knock on the door. “miguel’s here. i’ll be back later.” when she opened the door, miguel and his mom were standing on the other side.

“ready to go?”

“yes, of course.” she stepped out and his mom stepped in. “you’re my brother’s date tonight?”

“yes.” she smiled shyly and looked around for johnny, who had disappeared into his room.

“johnny, your date’s here. don’t keep her waiting.” y/n looked at carmen and smiled. “have a seat on the couch. he should be out shortly.”

“alright, thank you. you kids have fun tonight.”

“we will, mom.” miguel closed the door and walked away from the apartment with y/n.

“so, where are we going on this wonderful evening?”

“well, since you don’t like valentine’s day, or romance really, i have decided that the best place for you to be tonight is golf n’ stuff.”

“that’s where johnny told me to go but i said i didn’t wanna go because of all the couples that will probably be there. but at least now i won’t be alone. i’ll be with you.”

“most of the events tonight are just what we would normally do when we hang out, aside from the few special additions i planned for you.”

“they better not be romantic plans, miguel.”

“don’t worry. i chose carefully so you wouldn’t hate me.”

when they arrived at golf n’ stuff, it was nearly empty, aside from a few lonely people and the workers. they played a round of mini golf and then went inside to play some games. miguel won lots of tickets and got y/n a sculpture of a koala on a bamboo leaf. after the games, they went out to the go-kart track and raced each other. miguel let y/n win because he knew it’d make her happy.

at the end of the night, miguel took her to Tommy’s. it was her favorite place to go for a burger and it was the least romantic restaurant he knew of. 

“you know, i’m happy with what transpired tonight. it was way more fun than i thought it was going to be.” y/n smiled as she and miguel stopped outside her apartment. “thanks for taking me out tonight, miguel.”

“it was my pleasure.” he looked at her and smiled back. “when sensei asked for a volunteer to take you out, i offered to do it.”

“so, this was all because of johnny?” y/n frowned and miguel began to trip over his words.

“no no no. well, yes but...he was just...he was only looking out for you and wanted to make sure you were happy. he’s my sensei. what else was i going to do?”

“you volunteered because he asked you to do it? that’s not really volunteering then, is it?”

“what?”

“so this date wasn’t because you actually like me?”

“i do. i do like you. god, i am such an idiot right now.”

“elaborate, please.” she crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

“when he first asked, he never mentioned it was for someone to take you out. he just asked if anyone had plans. i thought he was going to ask us to come in to train some more so i told him that i had plans with my yaya. but then he said he wanted someone to take you out and when your name came out of his mouth, i quickly volunteered. i think that maybe he thought i was a little too eager because he was barely finished asking the question before i spoke up.” miguel chuckled. y/n, however, didn’t look to amused. “look, i know you think i’m an idiot but the truth is, i really do like you. the only reason i never asked you out before was because i know how you feel about romance and all that cheesy crap. i didn’t want to ruin what we already had by asking you out and scaring you off. so i figured that volunteering to do it would give me a little more confidence to enact the plan i’ve had written down since i met you.”

“are you done now?”

“no. wait, yes. i-i believe so.”

“okay, well aside from the fact that johnny was pretty much behind all of this, i really did have a great time tonight. any time i’m with you is fun, even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing. i like spending time with you, miguel. and as for the cheesy romance crap, i think i’ll be able to handle it as long as it’s coming from you.”

“are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

“i’ve been waiting for a year and a half for you, miguel. i really don’t want to wait any longer.”

“me either.” he smiled and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. they were so invested in their affection that they hadn’t noticed the apartment door opening. it was only when they heard johnny’s voice that they pulled apart.

“i guess you’re okay with valentine’s day now.”

leave it to johnny to ruin a beautiful moment.

[xthe-writing-vampirex]

Ellie x Zaro Part 2

Word Count: 1,845

Warnings: Fear

Fandom: None

This story is kinda just something that came out of a bad depressive episode and I've discovered I enjoy writing it and wanted to write more. Hope you guys dont mind💕

Part 1

—————

At first the dragon can't figure out whats going on, but her eyes closing and her tiny body beginning to fall tells him everything he needs to know. Without thinking he brings a clawed hand under her small form, easily catching her and bringing her up to chest level so he can see her better. Just as beautiful as in her pictures but with one detail she never dared show him, her wings. He can't help staring at them, lost in the delicate designs on their clear surface. It never occurred to him that she would lie about this. Then again he knew how his kind treated them, having seen a fae or two be crushed and swallowed alive. People just seemed to get their kicks from hurting things smaller than them, It made him sick just thinking about it. He'd seen them as beautiful for most of his life, from their sparkly little wings to their colorful skin. He'd always wanted to meet one having desperately tried to talk to the ones he went to school with, but they all simply ran away and hid. Now here he is, staring at a being he'd only dreamt of even talking to as she sleeps in his gargantuan hand.

Then it hits him, what should he do? She'd just passed out from fear, he couldn't just keep her like this until she woke up she would freak out. His first instinct is to bring her home, but fae live in tiny secluded neighborhoods and a dragon coming into one would definitely cause a panic. He sighs, his only choice is to take her back to his apartment.

————

Hours later the tiny fae begins to regain consciousness. Her once dark world is soon filled with what looks like, wait…..a ceiling? She immediately sits up, checking her surroundings for any signs of danger. Sadly for her this also reveals the fact that she's laying on a couch ten times her size. Her heart begins to race once again as she looks around until she suddenly feels the fabric beneath her start trembling. Footsteps. Huge ones that are coming her way. Thinking fast Ellie flies over to the nearby tv stand, hiding between a gaming console and the wall of the compartment it's in. Sadly for her flying leaves a trail of a type of dust, pink in her case to match her skin. It glitters in front of her, reminding her that there's no way for her to truly be hidden with that there. Before she can do anything to hide it though the culprit of the booming footsteps enters the room, Zaro. At first her heart tells her to cry out to him, she loves him after all but her brain reminds her of what he is causing her to keep her mouth shut. Her heart races as he goes up to the couch, seeming to be checking for her. A gasp escapes his lips once he realizes she's missing, his face filling with panic as he looks around desperately for her. Then his red eyes land on the glittering trail, confusion overtaking him. It's clear he's never seen anything like it before.

"Ellie? Are you still here? Please come out, it's okay." He says, keeping his voice low and gentle. On his end he simply wants to make this work or at least talk to her. She on the other hand sees giving herself away as a death sentence. So they're at a sort of stalemate until he follows the tiny glittering trail. When those red eyes of his fall on her, her body goes cold. She backs up, further into the darkness of the compartment, feeling like trapped prey for the first time in her life. Zaro's eyes soften, realizing what must be going through her head. She's no bigger than his finger after all and his kind does have quite the reputation.

Ellie simply stares back, hands over her mouth, eyes tearing up, whole body trembling. After all they've been through, all those late night chats and drowsy I love yous, this is where it ends.

"Ellie, I just want to talk. I understand why you lied and I'm not angry with you for that. Just…..just please give me a chance. I know this is scary but I just want a chance." He says, desperation in his deep voice. Ellie can't believe her ears. Why would something like him ever want something like her. He could have anyone in the world, someone bigger, prettier, and yet he's begging her for a chance.

"H-How do I….H-How do I know this isn't a trick." She asks, tiny voice trembling. He can barely make out what she's saying but just the fact that she's saying anything means the world to him.

"I would never trick you. I know that seems unlikely given what you're probably used to from my species but……I don't want to hurt you. I suspected you were lying about being an elf but I couldn't help being shocked. I ran after you because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you'd block me or something and the thought of that was like getting stabbed in the heart." He explains, voice still desperate. He seems so genuine but she's just so afraid this is a trick.

"H-How did you know?" She asks, voice trembling as she lowers her hands. He pulls out his phone, seeming to open something and scroll for a moment before turning it to face her to reveal one of the many pictures of herself that she sent to him. It's a selfie, right at the shoulders so her wings would be cut out of frame.

"You never sent pictures of yourself that stopped below here and when you did you always wore baggy shirts. I figured you were hiding something but it didn't really hit me until I saw you for the first time, then it all made sense." He explains before turning off his phone and putting it in his black jean pocket. "I understand why you hid what you are, I'd be afraid too if I was in your shoes. I don't expect you to trust me but I do hope you can give me a chance." He finishes, never taking his eyes off of her as he speaks. At first her brain screams at her not to believe him, but once she thinks about it she realizes something. How could she have gotten here after fainting? He had to have carried her meaning he could have done anything he wanted during that time, yet he'd done nothing. She lets out a deep breath before stepping forward a bit.

"P-Please go sit on the couch. I'll come out but I don't feel safe being this close." This saddens Zaro but he understands, slowly getting up and walking over to the couch before sitting down on it. The fae then flies out of the hole and to the arm of the couch on the opposite side of the one he's sitting on, leaving a trail of dust in her wake. Zaro turns towards her, putting his legs up on the couch in a criss-cross position. His large black wings stay folded under his bright red jacket though Ellie notices them moving, putting two and two together rather quickly. The two sit in an awkward silence for what feels like an eternity until Zaro speaks.

"What made you hide it? I could understand more if we were meeting physically but you didn't have much to lose online." He asks, trying to start some type of conversation. All the silence worried him.

"I…….I was afraid. I knew I barely had a chance with you from the beginning and revealing what I am was a risk I wasn't willing to take." She replies, taking a breath to calm down while also avoiding looking him in the eye. Its just too intimidating. Zaro thinks for a moment, playing what she says over and over again in his head. This must have all been so terrifying for her. After all, she even decided to give him the chance to meet her despite the fact that that could mean her death. His silence makes her more and more nervous, causing her to start to internally panic. "I knew this would be too good to be true…..thank you for not well…..you know the stories. I'm sorry I'm not what you thought I was…..I know things like this just can't work. Goodbye Zaro." She replies, begging to fly away.

At first Zaro doesn't know what to do. A dragon and a fae weren't supposed to be together, she's right. Especially not with the common interactions between their species often ending in death. The problem is, he didn't want to say goodbye. His mind goes back to him holding her in his hand only a few hours ago and his heart physically aches in response. He can't simply let her leave.

"Ellie wait!" He manages, not thinking through what to say next. Ellie stops in her tracks, glancing back at him with unsure eyes. Its clear her guard is up and he doesn't blame her. "I know this isn't normal….and I know how scary it must be for you….but I want to at least try. We've come this far….why stop now?" At first the fae agrees, why not see where it goes. Then the horror stories play in her head again and her fear returns.

"Zaro…..this isn't an easy thing to get around. This is hundreds of years of abuse and murder…..it's no simple fix." She replies, looking down at the ground below her. A part of her wants to stay here, give him the chance he's asking for, but her brain keeps reminding her of what could happen if she does that. "This….this could mean death for me……you have to realize that…." He looks down, trying to think of a way to show her he means well. He knows this is scary for her but he doesn't want to lose her.

"Ellie….how do you think you got here?" He asks, keeping his voice gentle. He knows this can sound like a confrontation but that's not his intention.

"I-I….I…." She replies, looking away. Of course he had to have carried her here and put her on the couch. There's no other way for her to have gotten here, but the thought of being carried by him scared her.

"I know how much is at stake for you but I just want a chance." He replies, red eyes finding her blue ones for a moment before she quickly looks away. All of her instincts scream at her to tell him no. Theres no way this could be safe. But if he took her here she was completely unconscious for hours and he did absolutely nothing to her. She bites her lip, struggling with herself and fighting to give the answer she does.

"Okay"

—————

[tobesolonely]

jealousy

a/n: hello! this is a little one shot that’s apart of my dad!harry universe! you dont have to read the original one to understand this one shot but if you’d like to, ill link it here . i hope everyone enjoys! please reblog and leave feedback if you do<33

summary: y/n and harry have another child, and their first born is a little skeptical on the idea of being a big sister.

warnings: none

word count: ~1.7k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

After hours of excruciating contractions, a backache like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life, and the horrid discomfort that came with pushing, you forgot all about your displeasure when Harry grabbed your hand, eyes sparkling, and said: “He’s beautiful, Y/N. Oliver’s here.”

When you found out you were having a baby boy, you were ecstatic. You and Harry already had a daughter, a fiery six-year-old named Allison, or Ally, as she preferred, and wanted to try for a boy. Girls run on both sides of your family, so you were pleasantly surprised when you found out you were expecting a baby boy. However, your daughter was not so happy about this news.

At first, you and Harry thought that the farther along you got in your pregnancy, the more your daughter would warm up to the idea of being a big sister. Unfortunately, the opposite happened. She became withdrawn and had outbursts that you would describe as “unpredictable and unprovoked.” You tried using your own experience as an older sibling to help your daughter know what to expect. You let her pick the color for the nursery. Harry got a t-shirt made that said, “Best big sister ever!” but she never wanted to wear it. Despite your greatest efforts, nothing changed your daughter’s attitude. She was much like you in that aspect— once she had an opinion on something, it was difficult to get her to see things from a different perspective. Still, you were looking forward to your eldest meeting the newest addition to the family.

After a few hours of skin to skin, feeding, and napping (because everyone knows you sleep when the baby sleeps), Harry breaks the silence. “Told my mum she can come over with Ally and Gem, now. Are yeh okay with visitors?” His voice is scratchy from not speaking for so long, and he’s whispering in an effort to not wake up your son.

“That’s fine,” you respond, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. “Just exhausted. Maybe a short visit?” Harry nods, telling you he already suggested they don’t stay for long. You look over at your son, starting to feel a little anxious. Ally had six months to adjust to the idea of having a sibling, and she was upset about it right up until the very end. When you went into labor, as Harry frantically got the car packed, she stood off to the side and said nothing. When Harry’s mom arrived as you were getting set to leave, the two of you told your daughter to be good, gave her hugs and kisses, and reminded her how loved she was. Still, Ally said nothing. When Anne waved as Harry backed the car out of the driveway, Ally had a look on her face that she didn’t often wear— a look that could best be described as pure hurt.

“What’s on your mind?” While you were lost in your thoughts, Harry moved from the chair near the window to the one next to your bed.

“I’m just worried about how Ally’s gonna react to him,” you gesture toward your son, who was still fast asleep in his bassinet. “Did you see how she looked at us when we left? Hardly said a word to either one of us.”

Harry hums thoughtfully, thinking back on the earlier day's events. “Guess you’re right, now that ‘m thinkin’ about it. She didn’t seem excited at all, did she?”

You shake your head, tears starting to form in your eyes. Harry’s expression softens, and he reaches to gently cup your face. “Hey, don’ gotta cry, lovie. Just wait ‘til she sees him. Promise she’ll fall in love jus’ like we did, trust me.” He wipes a stray tear from your cheek and gives you a reassuring smile.

“You’re right,” you tell him, feeling silly for getting so emotional so quickly. “I know it’s a big adjustment. My mom told me I was the same way when my little sister was born.” Harry nods, retracting his hand from your face and reaching to grab a tissue from the table beside your bed.

“See? Who woulda thought yeh didn’t like your sister when she was born? The two of yeh are inseparable at this point, know she’d be right here beside you if she wasn’t away at university.”

You’re about to respond when a gentle knock at the door interrupts your conversation. Harry’s eyes light up as he turns to see his mother, Gemma, and your baby girl all walk into the room. Gemma is holding a big bouquet of flowers, Anne has a bunch of balloons with “It’s a boy!” written in curly script, and Ally is clutching onto her grandmother’s hand, a stuffed bear that you don’t recognize as being hers in tow.

“C’mere and give Daddy a hug,” Harry immediately stands up and goes to pick up your daughter, twirling her around. “Missed yeh so much, love bug. Were you good for grandma and auntie Gem?” Harry’s voice is still quiet, as Oliver was still sleeping, and no one wanted to deal with a fussy baby at the moment.

“Yes, daddy.” Ally answers quietly and shortly, looking down at the floor. Harry notices this and sets her down, kneeling to make eye contact with her.

“What’s wrong, Ally? Mumma and Daddy have noticed that yeh haven’t been yourself lately. Something botherin’ you?” Harry questions, already knowing why she was so upset but wanting to give her a chance to freely express how she was feeling.

“S’just…” she says, tugging on her shirt and stretching it out, a bad nervous habit she developed. “I don’ think I want a brother, Daddy. Auntie Gem said it would be fun, but I jus’ don’t think so.” Your daughter has a look of genuine worry on her face. At this point, Gemma and Anne have made their way over to you, quietly offering congratulations and gushing over Oliver.

“What makes yeh think it won’t be fun, bug? What are some things you’re worried about?” Harry takes one of her little hands in his, rubbing gentle circles on her thumb. Ally harshly rubs at her eyes, and you know this means she’s about to start crying.

“Jus’ think you and Mumma won’t love me anymore… because you’ll be too busy playing with him,” She looks over in her brother’s direction, not even wanting to say his name. “I bet he’ll get more cuddles than me.”

Your heart breaks at the fact that your daughter thinks you and Harry don’t have enough love in your heart for her and her baby brother. “Ally, come over here and lie next to Mumma,” you call out quietly. Harry picks her up and brings her over to you, laying her on your bed cautiously to make sure she doesn’t accidentally get tangled in any of your IV’s.

“Baby, there’s nothing and no one on this planet that could make me and Daddy love you any less. We have enough love in our hearts for you and Oliver. Do you understand?” You ask. She doesn’t say anything.

“D’ya wanna hold him?” Harry offers, looking at his mom and sister who have hopeful looks in their eyes. They know how difficult it’s been for Ally to accept a new sibling, as Anne and Gemma have both reassured you countless times when you’ve vented to them about it.

“I guess,” she mumbles, looking at her hands. Harry tries a different approach.

“I see yeh had a new bear in your hand when yeh walked in. Is that for your brother?” Ally looks at the bear that she had discarded on the chair and nods slowly.

“Auntie Gem got Mumma flowers, an’ grandma got balloons. So I wanted to get something too,” she tells him, looking between yours and Harry’s faces. He smiles widely at this and reaches to grab the bear.

“That’s so thoughtful of yeh, bug. See? You’re a natural big sister! Did Auntie Gem teach you some things when I wasn’t around?” Ally chuckles at this, playing with the stuffed animal’s legs. “Do yeh wanna hold him and give him the bear, Ally?”

She quickly nods, a noticeable shift in her mood. Harry tries to hide his excitement as he walks over to Oliver’s bassinet, who was now starting to wake up. He coos when Harry picks him up, and you’re relieved when he doesn’t burst into tears like he has been for the past few hours.

“Hold your arms like this,” you demonstrate for your daughter, situating her body next to you so she could hold her brother without hurting him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Gemma pull out her phone and start recording.

“Ready for him?” Harry questions. Ally nods and Harry slowly places her brother in her arms. “Make sure yeh hold the back of his head, bug. Can’t let it dangle.” You help her readjust her hand placement to offer more support to Oliver’s head. Ally looks up, a dimpled smile on her face.

“He’s so little!” She exclaims, staring back down at him in awe. You and Harry look at each other, tears filling your eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“He is, isn’t he?” You ask, quickly wiping under your eyes. Anne places her hand on your shoulder, looking down at her grandson with a look of pure adoration in her eyes.

“He’s beautiful,” she gushes, sounding slightly choked up. “He’s got eyes just like yours, Ally.” You see her smile at this, but she doesn’t look up, not wanting to stop staring at her new brother. She reaches carefully with the hand, not supporting her brother’s head to grab the stuffed bear she picked out for him, setting it next to him.

“This is for you, Olly,” she says, placing the bear beside him. “You can sleep with him every night!”

Harry glances at you again, a look of relief on his face. “Olly, is it, bug? He has a nickname just like yours,” he tells her, reaching over you to smooth her hair. “Ally and Olly. I like tha’.” Your heart is full, and your family is complete.

At least, for now.

[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (9/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Kevin

every Fox has bad days

some bad days begin with a specific feeling

when Andrew feels ghost hands as he wakes up, when he feels his body too tight for his bones, or hid bones too big for his body

when Neil feels every sound like a knife to his skin, when the scars on his face feel like phantom pains, when he feels a grown man moves too fast, too close to him

when Allison feels jeans cling too much to her thighs, when her shirt brushes too much on her abdomen, when she feels the food she ate resting in her stomach

some bad days begin with a specific date

when it’s the anniversary of Tilda’s death, and Aaron cannot be in the same room as Andrew, no matter how far they’ve come

when it’s the anniversary the Boyds’ divorce, and Matt can’t leave Dan’s side for one second, no matter how strong their relationship is

when it’s the anniversary of Mary’s death, of Evermore, of Nathaniel’s last birthday, of Baltimore, and Neil can’t take a single look at himself in the mirror, no matter how many times Andrew worships his face with his mouth and his fingers

or, when it’s the anniversary of Kayleigh Day’s death, and nobody remembers, not even Wymack, and Kevin is all alone with this grief that is other, unlike any other he carries everyday, unlike anything he can compare to, and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore

Kevin vividly remembers that day, and he sees it luring around the corner as August approaches

but this time, there is no more Riko to worry about, no more mafia to be scared of, no more Ravens to antagonize him, no more Master to punish him for even attempting to grieve every year

and no more alcohol to make him forget

Kevin quit drinking the day they won championship, they day Riko was killed died

it’s been a year and a half, now, and Kevin still wants to drink the minute things get hard mentally

(it’s also been a year and a half since the Foxes started getting onesies, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, and only Allison remembers that summer where it all started)

so when Kevin enters his bad days, his bad weeks, the Foxes are used to his mood swinging back and forth between Queen of Assholery and Feral Fox

but Kevin isn’t

he isn’t used to feeling all of this, to always think, and think, and think, until everything inside his head is as loud as the outside, until it’s all too much

yet he’s still expected to go on

still supposed to function, to perform, to be a decent human being when he’s not even sure he even feels human anymore

and so when Kevin snaps, the Foxes are supposed to be used to it

they’re not

nobody is

it’s summer practice

the 9 Foxes came in early, before the two new recruits arrive

Kevin is in the middle of yelling at Neil, who is very much yelling back at him

there’s that moment very full of testosterone where each of them throw away their gloves and helmets and sticks

they’re an inch from each other’s face and then Kevin suddenly… stops

he completely stops

his face goes blank, his feet move him back, his arms go slack

he looks at Neil, and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could find an answer to a question he doesn’t know he’s asking

Neil, who has never learned to watch his mouth after all the trouble it got him into, keeps tearing into Kevin

Kevin keeps backing up and Neil keeps pushing further

but apart from his backwards movement, Kevin doesn’t react

pure apathy doesn’t suit him nearly as well as it did Andrew

the other Foxes are so silent, that between two of Neil’s breaths, they can all hear him whisper

“Stop.”

but Neil doesn’t hear him, or doesn’t want to

it gets so out of control, even Wymack has to step in, on the court, when he sees Kevin so unresponsive

it gets so bad, eventually Neil, too, stops his yelling and just looks at Kevin

and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could understand the question Kevin is asking an answer for with his pleading, green eyes

“Stop… Just- stop. I can’t- anymore… “

Kevin shakes his head and looks at the floor as hatred and hurt grip his guts

he takes another step back

suddenly he jerks his head back up and looks at Neil

“I hate you. God, I hate all of you.”

he looks at all his Foxes

then leaves

Kevin Day leaves the court

behind his back, he doesn’t see Matt holding back a furious yet teary-eyed Dan

he doesn’t see Renee leaving her goal to join Andrew’s side, her big racquet blocking his way

he doesn’t see Nicky putting his hand on Neil’s shoulder, squeezing in empathy

he doesn’t see Allison throwing away her racquet against the plexiglass wall with all that she’s got, fuming and hiding her tears

he doesn’t see Wymack matching over to Neil, a whole speech ready to give Neil his piece of mind

and he certainly doesn’t see Aaron collapsing to the ground, his hands holding his head and gripping his hair, his breaths shallow, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes dry yet red-rimmed

but from behind Kevin’s back, none of them see him either

they can’t see him losing his breath as he starts running away

they can’t see him clenching and unclenching his left hand

and they certainly can’t see him crying

the week that follows is undeniably tense between all the Foxes

that week also coincides with a lot of events

there’s the new Foxes’ arrival

there’s the start of classes

there’s the mandatory psych session with Betsy before Exy season starts

and there’s August 27th

Mom’s accident

Kevin remembers the day vividly, he truly does

he remembers because the week of the accident, he was supposed to start school for the first time, on September 1st

he had picked his outfit for the first day, he had new red Exy-themed shoes, he had even planned the lunch he wanted to have that day in his lunchbox (spaghetti squash casserole. yeah, weird kid.)

on August 27th, Mom didn’t come home

on August 27th, he went to the Moriyama property

on August 27th, he settled into a weirdly well-accommodated room that fit both him and Riko

on September 1st, he woke up with Riko and they prepared for their first day

on September 1st, Kevin wore his planned outfit, put on his red shoes

on September 1st, Kevin did not have spaghetti squash casserole

she left him nothing but an aversion for squash, red shoes, and Exy

which brings us as to why, on August 27th, as all the team is mandated to talk an hour with Betsy Dobson, Kevin Day volunteers to go first (with Aaron volunteering to go second and be the designated driver for the pair)

none of the Foxes have really talked to Kevin since the previous week’s outburst

Kevin has no other outlet for this painful day

it’s either talk to Betsy, or ruin 496 days of sobriety with one vodka bottle

the only words exchanged between Kevin and Aaron, on the drive to Reddin Medical Center, are, surprisingly, from Kevin

“Somebody should get you a new goddamn car.”

he doesn’t elaborate further than that, but Aaron looks at him strangely

his car really is garbage, though

once arrived at their destination, Kevin doesn’t wait for Aaron and bursts in Betsy’s office without warning

it takes at least half an hour of Betsy talking before Kevin gives up his silence

everything was already there, he just had to open his mouth and let his words fall

Kevin: I’ve been sober for 496 days. I’ve been thinking about my Mom’s anniversary for the past few weeks. That’s today, now. And last Friday, I told Neil, then the whole team, that I hated them. Care to unpack that for me?

Betsy: I can help you sort some things out, of course, Kevin. But this is your baggage. I’m afraid I can’t do this without your help. Why don’t you tell me more about this hatred you feel towards your teammates?

Kevin: I dont. Hate them. I don’t… I hate what they do to me. How they treat me. Their double standards. How they forget, how they dismiss. Mind you, I’m well aware of my asshole status. I know I am. But them… they’re… they’re mean. Vicious. They cut and stab and don’t care about what’s underneath. They don’t care that I helped them get the title of Champions. They don’t care that I was there every step of the way, that I was right there beside them when we played the Ravens, when we won. They don’t care that Riko died, that he once broke my hand, that I was legally kidnapped, that I went through hell and still lived to walk on my own two feet. They don’t care that I, too, once had a mom. They don’t care that my Mom died. They don’t care. To them, I’m still just a cunt. It’s unbearable. They don’t give a shit and I’m so, so tired, Betsy. I’m not asking for much. I just want… I want- I want them to let me breathe. I want them to realize that, I’m just like them. I’m a Fox. I’m a Fox as much as they are. I wake up everyday, and feel all this weight on my shoulders, in my stomach, on my heart, but I carry on anyways, and I don’t know why, but I do, just like them. Is that so hard to grasp? Is that so hard to accept? What am I doing wrong, Betsy?

Betsy: Oh, Kevin…

the rest of the session passes in a blur

Kevin talks about how every time he takes a photograph, he thinks of Kayleigh, of how brightly she smiles in all the photos Wymack has of her, of how he wishes he could take pictures of her with his own camera

Kevin talks about how every strong woman in the Irish folklore he reads about wears Kayleigh’s face

Kevin talks about how he thought Thea had been a bit like her, and how, in the end, she hadn’t been at all, she was her own woman, a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love, and how he thought he had lost a bit of Kayleigh again when they separated

Kevin talks

he talks

and Betsy listens

when his time is up, Kevin’s voice is hoarse with exhaustion and sadness

he lets Aaron in as he decides to take a run back to Fox Tower

his mind tries to guilt him into going back to the court, but between facing the Foxes after that and isolating himself in his dorm, Kevin knows what’s best for him

he is only disturbed in the late evening, when Wymack enters the dorm

even Neil, Andrew and Nicky hadn’t come back yet

Kevin knows something is wrong

Wymack isn’t supposed to be here

Wymack: Day… Listen, son.

Kevin sits up on his bed

Wymack: Argh, I’ll cut the bullshit. It’s Abby. There’s been an accident. Her car’s fucking scrap metal now. She was brought to the hospital 45 minutes ago, I just got the call. She’s going into surgery. We’ll all visit her in the morning.

Not again

Not Abby

What the fuck is this life?

Wymack: Number Seven wants to see you now. Don’t ask me why, I don’t wanna know. I’ll let her in, don’t make me regret this. Sleep good, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.

he opens the door, takes one last look at Kevin’s tense form, and leaves as Allison comes in

she’s wearing her giraffe onesie tied at the waist, with an oversized WALKER 09 t-shirt

she stands in front of Kevin until he looks up at her

Allison: Scoot over. We’re watching The Crown.

and Kevin, dumbfounded, lets her and moves

he finds himself quite intrigued by the storyline, enough to only worry about Abby with his fingers, fiddling with one of the giraffe’s horns

after the third or fourth episode, Allison starts to talk, eyeing Kevin’s fingers playing with her onesie

Allison: Wanna know the latest gossip? Even Andrew has a onesie, now. God, I can’t believe this is a sentence that exists. Andrew Minyard owns a fucking onesie. Do you know what that makes you?

Kevin stays silent, eyes fixed somewhere not quite on Ally’s laptop screen

Allison: That makes you the only Fox without one.

Kevin: Oh, so now I’m a Fox? Didn’t seem that way earlier. Or, like, ever.

the dealer chooses her next words very carefully

Allison: Just because we hadn’t seen it yet, just because we were too busy stuffing our heads up our asses, doesn’t mean you weren’t a Fox… I know, I know. Hard to feel like one when the others give you shit non-stop. Been there, done that. And now I’ve done it to you, too, and I’m… Sorry. We’re dysfunctional, there’s no changing that. But- We can do better. We’ll try, promise. I think you’ve made quite an impression on Betsy today, ‘cause we all received a good talk from her during our sessions. I mean, don’t expect Andrew running in to apologize, but, you know… Something about Betsy turning severe makes you re-evaluate your life choices. We’ll do better, Day.

Kevin looks at her, then

really looks at her

and nods

yet just as he turns his attention back to the screen, Allison leaves the Netflix page and googles “onesie adult”

Kevin: Oh, no. Absolutely not. Nope.

Allison: Oh, yes, yes, yessss!

but then, of course, there’s a knock at the door, and Allison gets up, opens the door, lets the person in, whispers something, and leaves

just like that

and oh

It’s Aaron

Aaron: So… Allison tells me you’re finally getting yourself one of those stupid pajamas too?

Kevin: I am not. What are you doing here anyway? The others will be back soon, I assume.

Aaron: Well, it’s my shift…

Kevin: Your what now?

Aaron: No, it’s not like that! We just… We thought you’d want some space because of… today… But then Abby… We didn’t want you to be alone.

Kevin: Really. Who’s “we”?

Aaron: The proud Palmetto State Foxes’ Exy team. All of them. You know, Dan, Matt, Renee, Allison, Andrew and Neil, Nicky… Me.

once again, Kevin can’t help but stare, deeply surprised

Aaron: Andrew and the others will be back for the whole night, but for now, it’s my turn. I wanted to take the first “watch”, but Allison said she had business to do with you. And I’m not getting in the way of that woman.

Kevin honest-to-God snorts

Kevin: If by “business” she meant bullying me into buying this onesie shit, then you should have gotten in her way. I’m not doing that. It’s fucking dumb.

Aaron: Hey!

Kevin: Aaron Minyard, don’t tell me you’ve participated in this madness…

Aaron: So what if I have? It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but I got one. And you don’t. So really, who’s dumb here?

Kevin: What is it??

Aaron: Not telling you.

Kevin: C’mon…

Aaron: Nope. You can’t bribe me. I’m not telling you shit. However, what I can telling you, is that it feels kinda wrong that we all have a pajama and you don’t…

Kevin: Oh my God, fine! What did the others get?

Aaron: Well, besides Ally’s giraffe, we got a tiger, a dinosaur, a teddy bear, you’ve seen Nicky’s unicorn nonsense, and I’m not quite sure about Andrew’s… Oh, and Neil’s is a fox, obviously. That predictable dumbass.

Kevin: Okay, well, I want a fox too.

Aaron: No, Kevin, you can’t.

Kevin: What? Why not!?

Aaron: Because. Neil’s already got a fox. Do you want to be a copycat AND a predictable dumbass?

and so until 1 AM, Kevin and Aaron bicker about each of Kevin’s suggestions (a Palmetto Foxes onesie, a USC Trojans onesie, an Irish-themed onesie, a white fox onesie, a gray fox onesie, and so on…)

when Andrew, Neil and Nicky come back into the dorm, Kevin’s almost laid all the way down on his bed, his head resting on Aaron’s elbow, as Aaron is sitting right next to him, laptop propped on a pillow and his fingers scrolling away

Aaron looks at Andrew, sighs, and looks at Kevin

they nod to each other, before Aaron gets up to go back to his dorm

Kevin sits up correctly when Aaaron is gone and Andrew approaches

Kevin pretends not to notice and googles one more idea, “brown fox onesie”

as he scrolls down and down and down, Andrew looks over his shoulder

and points at one picture

Andrew: That one. Now go to bed. We’re getting up at ass-o’clock tomorrow.

for the third time this evening, Kevin is shocked

he does look at Andrew’s pick attentively, though, and decides to go with it

that night, even if images of Abby covered in blood plague him for at least an hour, Kevin falls asleep to the memory of Aaron’s skin against his cheek, which somehow translates into dreams of Kayleigh resting both her hands on his cheeks as they sit in a field of wildflowers

a couple of weeks later, Kevin doesn’t tell the team his onesie has arrived

but he is forced to admit it when, for Halloween, they organize a huge party for themselves only, where they decided to wear their pajamas as costumes for the night

Kevin feels so stupid in his outfit

he even had to buy a LARGE because he’s so fucking tall

but it still feels… comfy… warm… not so bad…

maybe this can work for him…

it’s only when he steps into the girls’ living room that a problem arises

Aaron: What the fuck is this.

Kevin: Hum… A brown fox? Technically, Neil’s is orange, so you can’t shit on me!

Aaron: That- That’s not a fox, Kevin! What the fuck.

Kevin: Okay, well what are you then?? A mutant mouse?

Aaron: What are you- Oh my God, you don’t know what Pokemons are.

with that, Aaron turns around and yells for his twin

Aaron: ANDREW JOSEPH FUCKING MINYARD. YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU? YOU BASTARD.

he storms off yelling

Kevin only reunites with Aaron at the end of the night, on the girls’ balcony, both sober

Kevin: You know, for someone who pushed me so much to do this stupid thing, you’re not being very nice about it. I know you wanted me to be “original” or whatever, but it’s not like I look like Neil! Why are you so upset?

Aaron: Kevin. It’s not a fox.

Kevin: Oh for God sake’s Aaron, you-

Aaron: It’s a Pokemon, Kevin. They’re like little monsters, kind of, and it’s a videogame, but there’s anime, manga, and collectible cards and… I used to- I used to collect those. Before. I lost them, now, but see this? This is one of them. It’s the main Pokemon, actually. His name’s Pikachu.

Kevin: Okay… Who am I, then?

Aaron: You… You’re Eevee.

Kevin: And what’s “Eevee”…?

Aaron: Pikachu’s girlfriend.

and oh.

Oh.

Kevin: Andrew didn’t tell me… The little fucker. I thought- Sorry. I didn’t mean to be another pawn in one of Andrew’s little games. Why did he do that to you?

Aaron: I think you know why.

Kevin looked at Aaron

Aaron looked at Kevin

Kevin: Fuck.

Aaron: Yeah, that.

Kevin: What?

Aaron: Nothing!

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin slowly invaded Aaron’s space until his back touched the railing, and placed one hand on each side of the backliner

Aaron looked up at Kevin

Kevin looked down at Aaron

Kevin: Okay?

Aaron: Okay.

and Kevin grabbed Aaaron by the hoodie of his pajama, and pulled him close, closer, closer, closer, until their lips met, at last

it was a long-awaited kiss, a careful kiss, a kiss of home and yes and oh and warmth and safe

Kevin reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on top of Aaron’s, knowing they have very little time before the other Foxes found them snogging on the balcony like a goddamn cliché

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin: I’m gonna ask you something stupid, and you can’t punch me for it, okay?

Aaron: Fine, okay.

Kevin: Do you want to be the Pikachu… to my Eevee?

Aaron: YOU FUCKING MORON!

and with that, Kevin burst out laughing, as if the Foxes’ attention wasn’t already on them the second Aaron started yelling

Allison and Matt knowingly started whooping with their beers raised for a toast

Dan was facepalming hard, shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless

Renee smiled her genuine, angelic smile while clapping Nicky on the back as he choked on his drink

Neil, arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with contentment

and Andrew. Andrew had no reaction at all. at all.

he was looking at his nails, no knife in sight, no fucks given

which, in Andrew’s language, meant everything

and so that October 31st was one for the books, the books about the good days, the good feelings, the good memories

because the Foxes had those, too

Kevin Day had good days

Aaron Minyard had good days

Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker had good days

Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd had good days

Nicky Hemmick had good days

Neil Josten had good days

even Andrew Minyard had good days

God knows they deserve them

these onesies, as silly, as stupid, as corny, as childish as they may be, were a proof of that

a proof that the Palmetto State Foxes could be better, could do better, and could get better

[sokkas-honour]

for the spotify wrapped writing i'll say number 4 and sokka?

omg this one was so fun to write! ty for requesting!

dream boy - modern!sokka x reader

pairing : modern! sokka x reader

wc: 1.7k including lyrics

notes/warnings: going off of the hc that sokka is a baseball boy from my girl @draqondance and it’s just unedited but enjoy !!

part 1.5 | part 2 | part 3

taglist (send an ask to be added!!): @draqondance @biqherosix @missmorosis

sometimes i think i see your ghost, in passing hallways, the staircase to my apartment,

the clock couldn’t seem to hit three fast enough, the sun was shining outside but everything about your seventh period math class just made you gloomy. you tapped your foot on the ground, anxiously waiting for the final bell to ring so you could get out of the boredom that was calculus. you sighed and rested on your hand that was on your desk and tried to see if you could understand what your teacher was saying but you’d spaced out too long to even know what the hell he was talking about.

with another sigh, you slightly turned you head. you were seated at the back of the class, meaning you could see a part of the empty hallway since the door was open and there he was, the beautiful water tribe baseball player. your heart rate picked up as he simply passed in the hallway though he seemed to catch your staring because he backed right back into your line of view and smirked at you.

his flirty actions imply earned a playful eye roll from you. you watched your friend laugh before waving goodbye and continued on his way knowing he’d be able to speak to you after school anyway.

god did you love that stupid boy. seeing him, even for a split second, singlehandedly made this boring period your favorite of the day. his smile, his dorkiness, his horrible jokes, just sokka in general made your heart race at a speed that was practically impossible to slow down.

i accidentally self impose, bashful thoughts, careless wants, emotional involvement,

the baseball game ended and your school won 7-4, with your best friend pitching his best game yet, you couldn’t contain your excitement. as soon as sokka stepped off the field, you rushed out of your seat to go congratulate him outside of the dugout. your whole friend group couldn’t make the trip to the away game but you had promised him that you’d never miss a game when he got accepted into the team freshman year and so far, you’d never missed one. wether you were swamped with work or sick, you always found a way to sit on those bleachers cheering him on.

“sokka! that was your best game of the season!” you exclaimed as soon as you saw come out and ran to him. he was smiling that adorable stupid smile he always did and rushed to join your halfway.

“i know! did you see how i curved that ball on the last guy! he never saw it coming!” he excitedly retold you the final play that you’d just seen, pride shining from his eyes and grin.

“yeah! sucker didn’t even know what hit him!” you replied matching his energy and he just engulfed in you in a hug out of excitement. to your dismay, he quickly retracted it.

“sorry! i’m just so excited!” he apologised though you didn’t mind at all, hell, you’re disappointed he didn’t let it last longer as you craved affection from sokka that was anything but platonic or initiated by you, how you wished the hug lingered.

“sokka! you don’t have to apologise! i’m just as excited as you are!” you reassured, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much as you placed both your hands on his arms to emphasise how unbothered you were by his actions.

“okayyy. can we go get sea prunes? pretty please?” the pitcher begged, looking down at you with his signature puppy dog eyes that made you practically weak in the knees, he knew you’d never say no to them.

you've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy from my dreams,

most people only saw you and sokka as two inseparable best friends, two peas in a pod, practically attached at the hip, and they wouldn’t be wrong. sokka and you had been best friends ever since kindergarten when he accidentally hit you in the head with a snowball during your recess.

you’d always been close friends but ever since highschool started, you’d fallen for your best friend and you’d fallen hard. his adorably cute smile, his adorably cute eyes, his adorably cute ponytail, his adorably cute jokes, just his adorably cute self was enough to make you long for anything more than a simple close friendship with the water tribe boy.

you’d seem to have done a pretty good job at hiding it as none of your friends ever picked up on it. sokka and you had always have a pretty touchy friendship, you’d hug all the time, you’d place your head in his lap, he’d lay his head on your shoulder, but none it had any ulterior motive. so when zuko confronted you about it you were surprised, he was the one to find out about it, not toph, not even katara, the said crush’s sister, no it was zuko.

zuko seemed to have seen right through your lies about your lack of feelings for the baseball player which led you to just dumping all the reasons that he made your heart put a race care to shame. you told him about the daydreaming that occurred whenever someone would point out that you would both be a cute couple, you told him about the monthly dreams you’d have about you finally confessing your emotions that were always reciprocated.

zuko was kind and always listened but always took the oppurtiny to tease you about it when you were alone.

if you're gonna love me make sure that you do it right, i’ll be under your window in the moonlight,

oh i tend to keep my heart locked water-tight, all you gotta do is meet me after, meet me after midnight.

‘y/nnnnnnn, meet me by our favorite tree like at around midnight. i need to tell you something important.’

you’d been doing your english homework late one night when your phone buzzed with a message from the boy that made you swoon. your heartrate would always pick up a bit when he would send you a message but the content written made it race even more. you quickly replied to agree to meet him.

you grabbed your coat and your shoes and quietly left the house, making sure not to wake your sleeping parents. once outside, you took the ten minute walk to an old willow that stood about halfway between the water tribe sibling’s house and yours. you had often spent afternoons with the two of them just laying in the ground and watched the leaves around them slowly move with the wind.

when highschool started, you often found yourself throwing a rock or so at sokka’s window when it would be late in an attempt to get him to sneak out with you for walks under the beautiful moon. one night you almost got caught so you both agreed to simply text and agree to meet at that nostalgic willow.

upon arriving and passing through the weeping willow’s leaves you saw a figure leaning against it’s trunk. you were able to recognise the boy thanks to the light from his phone that he was scrolling mindlessly on.

“hey sokka.” you made your presence none in a rather soft way, not wanting to spook him.

“hey y/n, thanks for coming.” he looked up and smiled at you and put his phone back into his jacket pocket. your eyes had long acclimated to the darkness and were able to see him sit on the ground and pat the spot next to him to which you happily obliged.

“so what did you want to say.” you asked once you sat next to him.

“okay well i wanted your help. how do i ask a girl out?” his questions came out of nowhere and took you aback, you feared the direction that the conversation would go in but you shoved your emotions down. sokka may be the boy of your dreams but he was still your best friend, and you’d always want him to happy.

“well first of all, i need to know who this girl is.” you smirked, a small spark of hope as your mind rushed to not only a horrible ending to the conversation, but one that ended in a confession of feelings from both sides.

“okay well, only if you guess.” he joked which earned a playful eye roll from you before continuing. “okay well i’ve been friends with her for a while but recently, i’ve been feelings differently towards her y’a know? she’s always been there for me and always knows how to make me happy. i just feel warm and safe with her. i dont want to ruin our friendship because it means so much to me!”

“well sokka, i give up.” your spark grew at his description of the girl he was mad for, the only person you could even think of that fit the criteria was you. boy if you only you hadn’t been that naive, maybe that would’ve saved you from the heartbreak that was coming.

“okay well i thought it was obvious.” he grinned, leaning his head back in a way that told you that he was thinking of the girl who’s name you were about to know.

“it’s suki. i’m head over heels for suki.”

your heart dropped and felt like a knife had just been shoved into it, twisted, and then ripped out. no, your heart had just been broken. you felt like crying, you’d been so stupid in thinking he’d ever have any feelings for you. god it all made sense now, you’d never admit it out loud but you had been spending less and less time with sokka in the last couple of weeks. you had been spending more time with zuko where you would gush about the boy you were in love with.

if only you’d looked at the signs, he had been spending more time with the star volleyball player, the straight a student, the perfect in every way, suki. you couldn’t hold it against him, you loved her as a friend and she was impossible to not love. the words that left your mouth following his confession hurt your soul more than anytning

“you’d make a great couple sokka, you really would.”

[dangerous-disposition]

On Tragedy vs. Bad Endings

[Image ID: user @frostyfrogz​ replied to your post “my mag171 #thots: I fully agree with. I love jonmartin I want nothing but the best for them. I know my answer today was an obvious twisting of dialogue but its just frustrating sometimes because it seems like people dont understand some sort of tragedy will indeed happen. I have never and will never suggest that something will happen to Jon and Martin’s relationship I’ve just been saying the shows not going to end well no matter what.]

So I have a lot of thoughts about this very subject, and too much for the replies on my post, so allow me to try to articulate what I mean, and what a lot of us mean when we say “it does not make sense for either Jon or Martin to turn evil in the end,” even in a show that has been advertised from day one as a tragedy.

First of all, no one thinks this is going to end happy. The few who do are usually unaware that this show is billed as a tragedy, and are quick to be corrected. I didn’t know it was a tragedy until I was on season 3 and someone told me. It’s overall just best to assume that the OP knows it’s not going to be a happy ending, because “reminding” people or “explaining” to people that the ending is going to be sad is a fast way from people to get annoyed and defensive.

Anyway! It appears, above all, that people have either fundamentally different ideas of what a tragedy is or accomplishes, or that people have a fundamentally flawed understanding of tragedy and it’s place as a narrative device/theme.

My thoughts are that tragedies hurt, and tragedies can be devastating, but they have to have a message and they should not be cruel to the audience.

A cruel ending would involve leading the audience to believe one thing for the entire book, show, movie, podcast, what have you, just to rip it away at the last minute like a big “fuck you” to the audience. Those sorts of endings are inherently mocking of the audience, and ultimately disrespectful. The only people in the audience that “benefit” from this sort of writing are the cynics who spent the entire show talking down to everyone for seeing the silver lining in the impending tragedy, even if, up until the finale, the silver lining was always part of the narrative. Like it took actual twisting and outright ignoring of the narrative as it’s written to be cynical and sceptical all the way until the end.

That is, plain and simple, bad writing. Jonny Sims is not a bad writer.

Now tragedies often have “happy endings,” they just also have an element of sadness colouring that ending. A good, tragic ending should, in my opinion, feel bittersweet. We should see it coming, we should know it will hurt, but it should be for the greater good and should further the narrative that has been told from the beginning.

I said a few weeks ago that a tragic ending without a silver lining is just torture porn, and I stand by it.

Now, if Jon or Martin are revealed to be Actually Evil in the end, where is the silver lining in that? What narrative has even possibly hinted at this outcome, without putting on cynic glasses?

Every single plot point and plot “twist” in TMA has been clearly detailed, never relegated to pure subtext that you would have to comb through a single interraction and analyzing the tone in which it was said (which could easily be actor shortcomings or error). They have always been obvious, at least in hindsight. This is why, for a while, I subscribed to the Web!Martin theory, but due to recent episodes I’m more inclined to believe those “obvious things” were red herrings.

Throughout The Magnus Archives, the common theme in every. Single. Season finale is that “we are stronger together.” What do I mean by that? Well, here’s the general idea:

Season 1: The one time someone gets separated by the group for any significant length of time, like I mean the main group, she gets killed by the NotThem and replaced.

Season 2: Jon is alone, due to his intense paranoia and his reluctance to reach out for help. This leads to a disastrous series of events that leaves him a suspect of murder, and his friends even more doubtful of his character.

Season 3: In the episode just before they deal with the Unknowing, Jon literally says that isolation was his downfall, and he was going to work on trusting his friends more. When they got separated during the Unknowing, things went to shit. When they found each other again, they were able to rally and they “succeeded.” Conversely, they are also teamed up with Melanie and Martin who hung back to bring down Elias. They were successful, working as teams on separate objectives, etc.

Season 4: This is, by far, their most “successful” feats while simultaneously their least. The whole season was again showing the downfalls of isolation. In the season finale, Jon has Basira and Daisy’s help, and while bolstering himself with their strength, and the strength in his conviction to save Martin to be with Martin, Jon was successful in stopping Peter Lukas and saving Martin. Conversely, Martin and Jon’s isolation in Scotland could be, theoretically, implicated in how Jonah Magnus was able to succeed in the end like that.

Now evidence of this same train of thought in season 5? Jon literally says it: Gertrude would not have done well in this post-apocalyptic world, because she had no friendships, no anchors, no reason to stay human. And then Jon says “you are my reason” to Martin.

It is in the text of the story that the only way to succeed, or win, or survive, is through trust, friendship, and love. One of the main factors in so many of the statements, on why the statement givers succumbed to the fear in their story, for even a moment, had to do with very little personal ties to anyone else. Many of the statements feature isolation and, as Jon put it, “lack of corroboration.” On the flipside, many of the statements that ended with the statement giver escaping successfully, and surviving long enough to be reached out to for follow-up questions, involved them having close personal ties to someone else that kept them safe, somehow. Like the girl from Italy; remembering her mom saved her from the Lonely. Or, more ridiculously, the guy and his dog that escaped the spiral because he was so distracted by his dog and had to be home for dinner. In MAG170, it was Martin’s love for Jon, and his trust in the love from Jon and his friends, that saved him from the Lonely again. Jon’s incredible amount of love, and respect, and trust in his friends is what’s kept him from becoming another Jared Hopworth or Jude Perry. In MAG155, Cost of Living, he expresses open disgust in how that particular avatar of The End justified her actions, killing and killing and killing again because she viewed herself as more worthy of life than that person. In that same episode, he talks of not blinding himself because he hopes to use his powers to protect his friends, that without them they’re too vulnerable. Honestly, this is the same reason Peter Lukas is unsuccessful, because Martin only helped him at all to protect his friends. The fact that he didn’t see his failure coming was hilarious.

Gerry said in Family Business that there is no “entities of love”, and that might be true, but love and trust is literally what saves you from fear. How many of us deal with things that are scary in our lives, if only because we have some level of trust in the people or things around us. How many of us have been brought out of a panic attack by someone we love and trust?

So all of this has been presented to us, over and over and over again, which is what I, and others, mean when we say “it does not make sense for one of them to be evil.” That’s what we mean when we say “it would be Bad Writing to make one of them evil in the end.” The entire show has driven home the message that we need love, we need personal connections to survive fear. To rip that away from the main characters at the last minute and call it “tragedy” would be a spit in the face of every single listener who took the story at face value, without picking it apart and reading lines out of context. And Jonny Sims and Alex J. Newall have both said they hate lazy writing.

Now, none of the JonMartin fans I follow are deluding themselves to think this show will have a happy ending outside of very self-indulgent fix-it au fanfics.

The way I see this going down is that Jon and Martin will figure out how to put the world back to the way it was, but Jon will not be able to be part of the new world with Martin. That’s the tragedy; that the world gets saved, and Jon helps save it, but he doesn’t get to benefit from his efforts in any way. The tragedy is Jon loves Martin so much, and they deserve their happy ending, but they don’t get it. But, they still saved the world so others can have their happy endings.

Idk about you, but between the “Jon turns evil in the end” and “Jon stays good and sacrifices himself to save the world” endings, only one of them has me in tears right now as I type this out, and it’s not the former.

I’m not against sad endings,I’m against bad endings that punish the audience for having even a bittersweet hope. I’m against sad endings that are just sad for the sake of being sad, with zero pay-off or reason to happen, especially when those endings throw out 5 years of hard work.

And hey, I might just be forced to eat my words in the end, but not before I fly all the way to England and make Jonny Sims eat a knuckle sandwich.

This was a lot longer than I meant for it to be, but I just have a lot of feelings.

[pitaparka]

sit down you’re rocking the boat

request: Could you do one where y/n is kie’s adopted sister & hangs around the pogues a lot? She takes a liking to jj. One day, they’re swimming at John b’s and she watches him get out of the water from afar. He catches her gaze. Kie tells her that she’s not being discreet. Later that night, she goes down to the dock to help jj clean up and he tells her that he saw her watching him. He asks why and they both confess they like each other. They kiss then it gets smuttyish. Thanks.

summary: you watch JJ emerge from the water like an atlantean prince and it makes you want to help him clean the boat, even if he doesn’t really need it.

pairings: jj maybank x female reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: suggestive content, making out, roaming hands

a/n: hey! Sorry i haven’t been posting in a hot minute, i’ve been doing a bunch of schoolwork since it’s the end of the year and all of my teachers love me so much :)))) i’m also signing up for some summer classes so i dont go batshit crazy, so i'm closing the outerbanks requests for awhile until i can catch up with them!! Thanks for understanding yall, i love you 3000

He caught your eye immediately, wading out from the water in just his swim trunks, hair dripping onto his shoulders as he cleared it from his face. He was ridiculously well built, by anyone’s standards, with broad shoulders and sculpted physique. 

You notice his eyes meet yours, and he smiles widely, waving like a dork. It makes you smile shyly back at him.

As you turned your attention back to Kie, you managed to catch the end of her conversation.

She looks at you expectedly.

“Wait, what?” You say, and Kie rolls her eyes, watching as JJ makes his way inside.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, the uh, the guy… and the show… he did the thing.”

She sighs in response and turns her attention to her buzzing phone.

“Dad?” You ask, leaning over her shoulder, and she nods.

“He wants us home before dark,” she clarifies, sending him a text back.

She places her phone face down on the towel, and squints suspiciously at you.

You notice immediately.

“What?” You ask, none the wiser.

“You’re not slick,” she says, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. You feel your face get hot.

“About what?” 

“Shut up,” she mumbles, flipping herself over to tan her back. You shake your head, but follow as well. She resumes the music that was playing, and you’re not totally sure, but you think on his way back, JJ was checking out your ass. 

YOUR feet make ripples in the puddles of cold water on the dock as you make your way to the end of it, where JJ stands in the boat, mop in hand, pouring something from a bottle into a bucket on the floor.

As you get closer, he takes note of your presence with a small smile, before sticking the mop into the mixture and swirling it around.

“Need any help?” You offered.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says nonchalantly.

“But you can stay if you want,” he says, taking it out and splashing it onto the deck.

“Y’know… keep me company,” he mutters, swabbing back and forth.

You nod even though he can’t see you.

The dock is quiet at night, but the birds by the water are still squawking. You can smell the cleaning products from the dock, and you sit down on the end of it. It’s too tall for your feet to reach the water, but you kick them anyway and gaze out toward the horizon.

“I saw you watchin’ me today,” he informs you, and you fidget, shifting your glance to the boat. 

“Hm?” You hum, and he keeps on scrubbing the deck.

“When I was coming out of the water. You were watching me.”

You don’t say anything. He picks his head up to look at you, hair flopping into his face. He fixes it gently.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Like, you were watching me,” he says, and you scoff.

“What?” He asks, and you stare back off into the distance.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question. He lets his head fall again and he keeps scrubbing the floor, dragging the soapy mop across the surface.

“I just noticed,” he says, and you feel your skin burn with acknowledgement. You’d either have to be more careful about it or stop watching him come out of the water. But you can’t help that when he turns around, you can see all the muscles in his back moving as he cleans the floor. You shouldn’t find it as hot as you do, but there are only so many glances you can steal.

“Why wear a bathing suit if you’re not gonna go in?” He asks suddenly.

“We were tanning.” You explain, glancing down at your skin. You were really only keeping Kie company because she was on her period, but JJ didn’t have to know.

JJ pouts like he’s thinking about something, leaning on the mop. It slips a little and he catches himself on the side of the boat. It makes you laugh.

“Oh you think that’s funny huh? You think me, almost falling in the water, is so funny—” he starts, dipping the mop back into the sudsy water before he kneels down, wringing it out with his hands.

You gaze at him, dumbfounded.

“Hilarious.” You inform, bracing your hands on the dock’s edge. 

He stands back up and takes the mop by the joint, where the head meets the stick. You watch with morbid curiosity, until he jerks the mop in your direction, soaking your t-shirt and bathing suit underneath.

You gasp and push yourself back, what was your slightly damp clothes are now soaked on one side from JJ’s brush.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” He gasps, eyes and smile wide.

He braces the end of the mop before he swings it at you again, and you yelp in surprise. 

He leans over the side of the boat, and with fast hands, grabs your wrist, and braces his foot on the dock, tugging you. You make a fast decision that just jumping into the boat with JJ was much better than slipping into it and cracking your head open, so you let him tug you forward. The mop falls from his other hand as he supports your forearm, but his feet squeak on the floor and he falls backward, taking you with him. 

With the fastest reflexes you’ve ever had in your life, you cup the back of his head and he falls onto his back, throwing his arm out to brace himself but knocking over the bucket in the process.

What would’ve been JJ’s head smashing onto the floor of the boat was braced by your hands, and it stings.

You both mutter a soft, “Ow…” at the same time, and it makes the two of you laugh.

You straddle JJ, and his eyebrows almost touch his hairline.

“You okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“That’s not how I thought this night would be going,” you say to him quietly, looking down at JJ underneath you.

“Well, I mean, you kinda saved my life there.” He jokes.

He chuckles, and you feel the water from the bucket run down your knees and shins. You bend back to see it running down the length of the boat. At least that was done.

You look back down at JJ and he’s not smiling anymore. He’s completely serious, and his eyes are flickering from your lips to your gaze. You move imperceptibly closer and JJ takes the hint, gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into him.

You brace yourself with your hands by his head, but he leans up into you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his own around your waist.

His hands roam your body as he kisses you hard, flipping you over and laying you down on the wet floor of the boat. You gasp away from the kiss.

“Oh my god, I’m all wet!” You exclaim softly.

“You’re gonna be,” JJ threatens, and you laugh as his hands roam to the hem of your shirt.

You close your eyes and breathe heavily as JJ lifts your oversized t-shirt, kissing your stomach and pulling your wet bathing suit to the side. You pull your head up with incredible speed to watch him, but he moves lower, spreading your thighs and kissing the inside of them.

You squeak and writhe away from him.

“What?” He asks, alarmed. You push yourself up against the side of the boat.

“That tickles,” you murmur and you can see the mischief in his eyes before he does anything. He straddles you against the side of the boat and places each hand on the side of your face before kissing you again.

JJ hears the footsteps on the dock before you do.

You two scramble apart, and you grab the closest cloth in your proximity. JJ snags it out of your grip and you’re about to argue with him over it when Kie pops her face over the side of the boat.

“Dad is gonna have a stroke if we’re not back before sunset. You guys okay? Why are you all wet?”

“She fell in. I saved her.” JJ explains quickly, playing with the rag in his hands.

You roll your eyes at him and pull yourself up, stepping forward towards Kie as she extends a hand out to you.

“He got me—thank you—he got me all wet with the mop.” You say, and Kie accepts your explanation.

“Jerk,” she says pointedly, and he sticks his tongue out towards her.

“You better leave before you get in trouble. Daddy’s gonna give the two of ‘ya a spankin—”

“See you later JJ,” she says hurriedly walking down the pier. 

He winks at you as soon as Kie turns her back. He mimics a phone up to his ear with his hands and mouths the words, ‘call me’. You smile and turn away from him.

You catch up to her with a smile on your face.

[poptod]

The Ivory Haunting (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: His face is engrained into your head but his name is nowhere. Where does he exist? Why are you so obsessed?

Notes: this is strangely creepy and i dont know why. its not what i meant to do but i think its cool anyway. gender neutral as fuckin always WC: 3.1k

+

There's this carving – more of a bust or sculpture – that has your mind twisted every which way. It's a stupid thing, really, but you can't get his expression out of your head, and thus it haunts your waking and sleeping hours. The style is Egyptian, you think. He's wearing a crown on his head, one that you've seen in a couple museums before, and he has an absent smile on his face. While you scroll through the endless amount of photos of ancient Egyptian statues online, you note that it's an all too common expression.

At this point you can't even recall where you first saw it. Could've been through the endless internet surfing or the many museums you visited in your travels, but at the end of the day you're stumped. What was his name? Where did you meet him?

It's clear as day. His alabaster skin. He looks straight at you with empty eyes, the irises having eroded many years ago in the hot sahara sun. His nose has long fallen off, leaving behind a jagged scar that drags from his brow down to his lips, where that haunting smile sits so easily. They're full, his lips – sweet, and soft, even for stone. At each end are little dips, showcasing the slight smile. His chin is a little big, but it makes way for the sharp contrast of his jawline. He has cheekbones – mostly hidden behind the crown – and his ears are a little large. The trait that draws your attention each time is his eyes. Blank. Like they had truly been staring at the world for thousands of years.

You don't get out much anymore, not since the restrictions were put in place. There are moments, especially in the dead of night, in which you want so desperately to leave your tiny apartment, but the curfew states otherwise. Policemen and government workers roam the streets and you'd rather not get into a tussle over something so small as an urge.

Still, you stare outside your window, wondering why it feels like you're suffocating. This is how you spend a lot of your time nowadays, staring at the streets. There's hardly any cars out, and the sidewalks are barren, a sight you'd seen only once before during the original quarantine. London is not a quiet city. It's quite the opposite, and to see it muted is in the least upsetting.

Your job is... easy. Considering the state of the world, you're incredibly lucky, retaining your job and keeping away from the outside. You also get a lot of free time. Usually you'd spend it in front of a television, or in a good book, but now it's in front of your computer screen. The typing marker flashes in front of you, placing behind it the clear words you've searched at least a hundred times by now.

ANCIENT EGYPTIAN BUSTS

By now you know what the first images are going to be. Nefertiti, mostly – her bust is by far the most famous. Then there's of course Akhenaten with his elongated skull, followed by several advertisements for Kemetic worship.

You don't know much about Egyptian history. Or, at least you didn't use to. Now you recognize the faces, though rarely do you ever remember the names of the many forgotten dead. You're just looking for one – one name, one bust, one dead man.

He's nowhere, not in the books you buy or the articles you read. When you sign up for an online course of ancient Egyptian history, you expect to see his face in a textbook, but he's not there. Sometimes it feels like you're the only one who remembers him, which is funny – you don't even know him. Either way it's a way to occupy the time, since you have so much of it lately.

The British Museum is reopening. There's a whole thing about COVID, of course, and the only way to enter is to get tickets online. Only a handful of people are allowed inside the museum at once, and since you don't hear about it until later, you are set to wait a month and a half before you can visit. Bitterness wells up in the pit of your stomach, but like most things you set it aside. None of it really matters anyway – yes, not knowing his name feels like drowning mid-air, but it won't kill you.

From the moment you reserve a ticket to the moment you can actually use it, you dream of him every night. Sometimes it's actually him, no longer a statue, taking your hands and leading you somewhere you don't belong. His skin is warm, unlike his statue, but just as soft as you imagined. His nails are meticulously cleaned and his eyes are bright, full of a life you're desperate to understand. It doesn't make any sense. You're yearning so deeply for him, for something you've never known before, and every second away feels like pure horror in your veins.

Why do you need him this much?

You look at yourself in the mirror, fixing a strand of hair that falls in front of your eyes. You're dressed well – at least comparatively to your former few weeks of dress – and a quiet excitement thrums in your heart. Today is a day you're going to go out, and to make it better you're going to the museum. They have an Egyptian exhibit. A foolish part of yourself hopes you'll find him there, nestled in the corner of a long and fruitful hallway filled with Egyptian statues.

It's... disappointing, to say the least, to find out there's only one room for Egyptian exhibits and it's occupied by only one thing, besides broken pots and stone dolls. The main exhibit's name is Ahkmenrah, a young Pharaoh older than the Great Pyramids of Giza. All information on him can be fitted onto a four by six stone plate. While standing in his room, surrounded by hieroglyphs you've been studying hard to understand, you look him up on your phone. There's little mention of him, but the one article you do find on him has a 3D recreation of his face. He looks white and you know the article's bullshit.

While absently holding a conversation with one of the curators, you discover there's a store of Egyptian exhibits kept underneath the museum that aren't fit for showcase since the downsizing. Whatever that means, you find a sliver of hope, one that pales quickly at the realization you'll never be able to go down there. They wouldn't let some random visitor (who wasn't even an actual historian) to go see closed off exhibits.

Fischer, the director of the museum, hires you four months after you send your resume in. The second he does you set your plan into motion – there's no time to waste.

The same day he gives you the keys, you're sneaking in under the cover of night. For some reason, the lights are still on in the main museum, but fortunately that's not where you're headed. You unlock the backdoor, sneaking through the night guard's break room until you find the door to the basement. Flipping through the keys on your ring, you quickly find the right one, shoving it into the keyhole and almost wrenching the door open.

You run down the stairs. It's almost sprinting, but you can't be too loud with your shoes. There's nothing in your mind except him, his funny little smile, the somehow soft alabaster of his skin. You need to get to him. Something inside you says he's here – he's here, he's here, and there's nowhere else you can be without your whole body combusting.

You stop dead in your sprint, chest heaving as you're faced with the open boxes filled with Egyptian busts. With frantic eyes you look them over, searching desperately for one familiar face, finding none until the very last open box.

It's here.

He's here.

The broken nose, the formation of the resulting scar, you recognize every. Fucking. Inch.

Each box contains little notes on who the statues are (if known), the material, the time period, and other such relevant information. Your hands shake as you reach forward, slipping the piece of paper out of the paper stuffing.

King Ahkmenrah

Date: ca. 3,100 - 3000 B.C.

Period: Old Kingdom

Place of origin: Egypt, Cairo

Medium: Ivory

Ahkmenrah.

Sudden clarity strikes you as it never has when you recall searching his name online. He's the exhibit. He's the mummy upstairs. He's actually here.

The blood in you freezes for a moment, caught up in shock and relief. Now you know his name. A small part of you is finally able to rest with the answer, but the rest of you knows exactly what to do – go upstairs. Find the exhibit. Lay at his side. After all this time you still don't know why, but the ache of neediness in your heart is enough to leave you weak to your inner desires.

Now that your head is clear, or at least unhindered by your questions, you note a worrying amount of sound coming from upstairs. Footsteps pound on the ceiling as you climb the staircase, leaving you curious and terrified. That many people shouldn't be in one place – it's a death wish for the modern plague. You grit your teeth, fingers curling up in to fists that dig your nails deep into your palm. Is it safe to go upstairs? There's definitely people up there and you have no idea who they are. The museum could be being robbed right now and you wouldn't have a clue. It's a death wish.

Why are you still going up the stairs?

Why are you opening the door?

This shouldn't be happening. There's enough people to fill the whole first floor, ranging from the public entrance of the museum to the African exhibits in the back. Almost all of them are wearing historical outfits, in such a wide array you might've thought they'd stolen them from the exhibits, had they not looked exactly like the wax figures. The marble statue of the Roman on his horse is no longer on its' pedestal. Actually, he's talking to a woman a few feet away from you, though he is still on the horse.

You should be passed out on the stairs going by how fast your heart is beating, but instead you stand in the doorway petrified. Your eyes sit wide, scanning back and forth over the crowd, searching for something you don't know of. With all the stimulus in front of you, you don't even know what to think. The exhibits must be coming alive. Does someone watch over them?

It's then, with little clarity in your head, that your eyes land upon the night guard. She doesn't look in the least bit rattled, so you easily assume she's used to this. Her calm is so alarming to you that you blink yourself back into your body.

These are... people. Just people. They haven't been put under some curse that'll bring chaos to the world. All they're doing is partying, and though the noise level is a tad unpleasant, it's just about as rowdy as some teenagers.

When you realize you aren't in danger, you bolt from your place at the door. Twisting through the gathered crowd, you slowly make your way to the staircase, ascending with quick feet as your eyes lock onto the Egyptian hall. It's a few more feet until you turn sharp, shoes squeaking as you slide into the room. The familiar gold lighting greets you, shining off the open sarcophagus, which you skid to a halt in front of as your lungs desperately try to catch up to your legs.

Of course it's empty. Your Pharaoh – or Ahkmenrah, you suppose you should use his name now that you know it – must be downstairs, where the life of the party is. Why would he stay up in this empty room, all alone? From here you can barely even hear the music that was once pounding into your ears. Still, for a moment you stare at the bottom of the vacant coffin, caught in the awe of such a long-standing history.

"What are you doing here?"

The words catch you by surprise, and in reaction you whip around, eyes wide as the voice continues, "who are you?"

My King. Before you can even process the thought, the words roll onto your tongue, but to your immense relief you catch yourself before actually opening your mouth.

"I..." it barely comes out with how little you've physically spoken recently, "I work here."

As usual, your voice carries that quiet, calm, slightly annoyed tone that makes people wonder why you're being so difficult. It's not really something you can control, but the King doesn't seem to notice. Maybe it's worked to your advantage this time; despite your racing heart and frozen feet, you keep an even tone.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," the King says, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer. You try to back up, but you're already pressed against the sarcophagus, and his glare keeps you from running.

"I just started today," you answer honestly.

"Ah," he says, his voice softer the moment he begins to believe you. "This must be rather alarming for you, then."

You're not afraid to admit he's right.

"A tad. How do you speak english?"

"I learned it during my time at Cambridge University," he answers. He's from over 4,000 years ago, so you know he didn't attend as a student.

"You were on display there?"

"Yes," he says with a bright smile, one that catches you entirely off guard.

It practically blows you away – his demeanor changed so quickly, from a stern Pharaoh to a sweet, young man who probably bought his girlfriend flowers every Monday. For a moment you wonder why you were so caught up in him before knowing him; now that you've heard his voice, seen the way he moves, your interest increases tenfold. It's not enough to see him. You need to touch him. You need it more than anything.

"I've been looking for you," you blurt out, but the words come out so slow it sounds like you consciously chose them. You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch his smile falter.

"What do you mean?" He asks. He's standing in front of you now – if you extended your arm and took a small step closer, you'd be touching him.

"There's a sculpture of you," you say softly, swallowing the lump in your throat, "but I didn't know how to find your name."

"How'd you find me, then?" He asks, but he looks less offended. Now there's a keen look in his smile and in his eye, like he's going to enjoy this, like he knows something you don't.

"Sheer luck," you say with a shrug. It's mostly true.

"I think I know you," he says, and his smile quirks further upward.

"What?" You say, trying to back up again as he steps closer. The sarcophagus is, unsurprisingly, still behind you. "How?"

"Back when I was a King, I had a slave my brother killed," he says in the least comforting tone, "but my father had this idea."

Another step closer. You can feel the heat of his naked waist on your shaking hands.

"See, he had a magician in his employ, and he would do anything for me. Especially since I loved that slave so dearly. Truly," he leans forward a little, placing his hand on the gold case behind you and trapping you against him. His chest is practically right against yours, but what you are close enough to feel is his breath, soft on your collarbones. "And so my father retrieved the soul with a special spell and sent it into the future, to possess another at birth, and to lie in wait until I called for it."

You can't feel your – well, anything. There's a pressure on your chest, but you can't tell if that's your wildly beating heart or just his warmth skewing your senses. All you can do is stare up at him wide-eyed. He can't be telling the truth. Magic doesn't work like that, it can't work like that, that's a sick story and he's telling it like it's nothing more than normal. Possessing a newborn child. Sending souls into the future. It can't make sense. You almost feel bad for your past self – under the employ of someone so cruel as to take a soul from the afterlife for his own pleasure.

But he's standing before you. He's 4,000 years old, and he's standing in front of you, pushing you against his own coffin and trapping you there. Do you belong to him, then? Is that why you can't get him out of your head?

"When did your search begin?" He asks softly, a gentle curiosity evident in his brow.

"A – about a year ago," you say, your voice so broken and shaky you're surprised he understands it.

"Last winter?" He asks knowingly, almost sweet, like he's doting on you. Then comes the part that really makes it shine; he reaches up and pets your hair, moving in long, soft strokes.

You nod, unwilling to meet his gaze any longer. How red you must be by now.

"I called on you then. It took you a little while, but I'm glad you made it," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Unfortunately, I suppose you haven't retained any memories, since you didn't know my name."

"I guess not," you agree quietly. "I just have instincts."

"Instincts?"

You're reluctant to share with him the many instincts you'd had even in the short time from meeting him to now. The pure need to touch him. Past You probably had a crush on him, and even though you aren't really that person anymore, there's a need inside you to hide that fact from him. 

"I wanted to call you my King when I first saw you," you admit, your voice still quiet in hopes of him not understanding you.

"You won't have to call me that anymore. Maybe a tad around my parents, but when we're alone you may use my name."

"When we're... alone?" You question nervously, heart pounding at the thought of spending more time with him.

"You do work here, don't you?" He says with a sly grin. "I think I'll be seeing you quite a lot."

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh God.

If this is how you react just from spending five minutes with him, you can't imagine spending whole nights at his side. You'd explode. From what you don't know yet, but the pulsing rush in your heart is strong enough to worry you, and very rarely do you ever worry about yourself. The words in your head – your immediate reaction – simply won't pass. You can't bring yourself to say them, so you say what he wants to hear.

"As long as you want to."

[miraculous-anna]

Opposite Day (Or DuPont’s Worst Nightmare) Part 2: electric boogaloo

Hello Everyone!! The title is a joke, i promise! I saw a chance, and i took it lol. Anyway, In this part, we’ll be focusing on Lila a little bit, and the class focusing on everything Marinette said to them, and having a couple heart to hearts :) Just an FYI, the taglist is still open! And if you wanna be tagged, send me an ask and i’ll put you on the list! 

Just a tip lmao: To really get a feel on how i interpret the mood of this chapter i recommend listening to this piano cover of knee socks by Arctic Monkeys, it made me cry :,)

Okay, on to the story! 

___________

Original Post  /  Previous  /  Next  /  Masterlist 

Footsteps echoed through the halls of DuPont Highschool, going straight towards the bathrooms. I have to make this right! She has to still be there! I have to apologize, come clean, tell her I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to go this far. But i was too stubborn, I let it get out of hand.  

Lila raced to the bathroom, only find it was empty. “Dammit! Of course it’s empty!” She cursed, closing the door and going back down the hallway. Lila grabbed her phone, checking the time, and decided on another idea. Perfect, I can’t back out of it this way. 

 Lila ran towards the library, her backpack slung over her shoulders. Finding a table in the library, Lila sat down, and dug out her notebook. Picking out a pencil, she flipped open a page and got to writing. I have to explain, I need her to understand, and fast. 

After a good 30 minutes of writing, Lila grabbed her things, racing towards the front of the school. Sprinting down the steps, she ran toward the cross walk to get to the side of the road, and after looking both ways, ran towards a very familiar and well known building. With determination in her eyes, She pushed open the door, hearing the bell jingle, alerting an older woman of her presence. The older woman smiled, and greeted her. Lila noticed the bakery was very empty at the moment. 

“How can i help you, dear?” The woman asked, walking away from the counter. Lila took that as a sign to walk towards her. Walking up to her, with around 6ft between them, Lila took a deep breath.

Suddenly feeling nervous, her mouth goes dry. “Uhm, excuse me..” Lila’s words got caught in throat before the guilt came crawling back in waves. She swallowed, and repeated herself. “Excuse me, ma’am? I.. I need to speak to you.” The woman tilts her head in confusion, a smile still present on her face. “Well, of course, what is it? I’m Sabine, by the way.” 

Lila would be lying if she said she wasn’t shocked that Sabine, Marinette’s mother, didn’t recognize her. Surely, Marinette had told her parents about Lila? Just how much was she keeping to herself? 

With a shake of her head, Lila decided to say her name. “I’m Lila, Marinette’s..” Lila cleared her throat. “Uhm.. Marinette’s classmate. I need you to give this to her, later tonight. Please, after school is over, and she’s home.” Handing a letter to her, Lila balled her fists at her sides. Straightening her posture, Lila looked Sabine in the eyes, and said, as confident as she could manage, “I made some mistakes, and my apology is in that letter. I need her to read it at exactly the right moment. Your daughter didn’t deserve any of the things that happened. I’d appreciate it, if you’d comply with my request.” Finishing her plead, Lila took a deep breath, and blinked repeatedly to rid of the tears, and the burning sensation behind her eyelids. 

“Of course! I’ll give this to her tonight. I’m glad you’re coming clean, Lila. It’s very mature of you. Would you like something from the bakery?” Sabine tucked the letter away in her apron, and gestured towards the glass cases showing the baked goods they had on display.”Uh,” Lila started, reaching into her pocket. Feeling her money pouch with her allowance she kept hid, She nodded her head. “Yes, please. Question, though.” 

‘Yes, Lila?” Sabine asked, smiling again. “Which ones did Marinette make?” Lila scanned the room, searching for the macaroons the baker’s daughter was famous among the class for bringing. Sabine pointed towards different colored macaroons and chocolate covered croissants in a display cased with a sign on it called, “Marinette’s specialty baked sweets!”

Pulling out her pouch, Lila remembered just how much was in the pouch, and asked for as much as what was in there could get her. Sabine looked shocked, once again. “Are you sure, this is a lot.” Nodding her head, Lila pleaded for the second time that day. “Please, please make sure that money reaches Marinette. Consider this apart of my apology. It’s the least I could do, honestly.” Nodding her head, Sabine accepted the money, and assured the girl the money would reach her daughter. 

Leaving the bakery with goods in hand(s), Lila sighed, hoping her plan would work. I just hope I don’t try to back out of this when i’m back to normal, I can’t afford to. 

_____

Sighing, Alya scratched her head. Nino looked over at her, “Something wrong, Alya?” Messing with her hair, Alya groaned, “No, Nino, everything’s peachy!” “Sorry, Alys, dumb question.” Nino said, sheepishly. “It’s fine, i just can’t stop thinking about everything Marinette said.” Alya confessed, alerting the rest of the class. “Honestly, none of us can. What she said really hurt, but she did bring up a few good points.”  

“Oh, really? Like what, Nino?” Alya glared, crossing her arms. “Well, We did ignore her for the past month in favor of Lila...” Rose pitched in, sadly. “Yeah, and she doesn’t like Adrien, definitely. I’ve been hanging out with him all month, frequently, and she hasn’t talked, texted, even seen Adrien all month.” Nino explained, He shrugged, “ He even complained how everyone but Marinette talks to him. He says he doesn’t know what he did, but he thinks she’s been avoiding him.” 

“Where is he, anyway?” Alix asked, noticing the resident “sunshine boy” wasn’t present. “It IS lunchtime, Alix. His dad probably wanted him home or something.” Ivan replied, shrugging his shoulders. Alya placed her head in her hands, clearly frustrated. “I don’t get it. Am I a tabloid reporter? Surely, everything Lila says is the truth! She wouldn’t lie like that.” Mostly everyone was murmuring among themselves, mostly agreeing with her. 

“If you think Lila wouldn’t lie, then what about Marinette?” 

Silence. Alya surveyed the room. Who had said that? She spotted Nathaniel in the back, staring right at her. He spoke again. “Why is Marinette different then Lila? We’ve known her longer  than Lila, she’s never given us reason to doubt her before, and Marinette hates liars just as much as Ladybug hates Hawkmoth.” Nathaniel continued to stare right at Alya, knowing she was one of the main accusers, if not the only one. “Well, you know Marinette acts crazy and kinda stalker-like when she gets jealous-” Alya tried to explain. 

“But who is she jealous of? You heard her scream it right in your face. She isn’t jealous of Lila, so yeah, Alya, why would Marinette lie? Did you even check if Lila was telling the truth?” Alix, of all people had decided to speak up. She narrowed her eyes at Alya, deciding to perch like a gargoyle on her desk. Everyone had to admit, it was slightly intimidating.

“Alix? Why are you defending her? I mean, we get Nathaniel, he liked her at one point, but you?” Kim asked, shocked, and very confused. "Because I realized Lila's lies were hurting Marinette a couple weeks ago. Dont you remember? I stopped hanging out with the girls whenever Lila was there." Alix explained, rolling her eyes. Before anyone could say anything to Alix, someone walked in.

In all her glory, there stood Lila.

The class was silent, as they watched her walk to the middle of the room. "I need to speak to all of you, and it's important that you listen to what I have to say while my personality is reversed."

Everyone murmured in shock. Lila knew she was acting different? Everyone quieted back down, and Lila started speaking again. "Over the past month, since I came back, I've been lying to you all. I said that I did all these great things, met all these people, went places. But I lied."

Lila spoke before anyone could say anything in response. "Before you assume why I did these things, I want you to know, that I didn't do them cause I wanted friends, its an entirely different reason that I'm not gonna tell you, until I tell Marinette, cause she deserves to know the truth first. After everything I've done," Lila continued her monologue, taking a deep breath. "Of course, it still doesn't excuse my actions for lying, but one thing I don't get, is why you all believed me. I've been to 5 different schools, counting this one, and none of them except you ever believed my lies. I don't get it."

“Well, we accept your apology Lila. We’re glad you came clean.” Alya spoke up, finally. It was clear she was taking this whole thing the hardest. “Wait, then we really did hate Marinette for no reason!” Mylene cried, her hands flying up to her mouth. Rose gasped, and teared up. “You’re right, oh no..” Juleka hugged Rose, who was now crying. 

“I don’t get that either. Yes, I was hard on her, but i never expected you to believe Marinette, the class president, the goody-two-shoes of this school would bully me.” Lila spoke up again. “At least you know what you did.” 

And with that, she left. Where, no one knew.

“We have to apologize to her. Immediately.” Alya cried, running out of the classroom, desperate to find her ex-best friend. The girls of the class ran after her, minus Alix. “You guys can apologize to her once the girls are done. I feel like bombarding her at once will be a bad idea. The girls ran out before I could say anything to them.” Alix sighed, jumping down from her desk. Holding her hands behind her head, she walked out with Nathaniel beside her. 

____ 

Arriving at the bakery, Alya opened the bakery door, and the rest of the girls present followed after. “Mlle. Cheng! Where’s Marinette? We need to speak to her, like right now!” Alya pleaded, her words coming out in a frenzy, and very rushed. Sabine looked slightly shocked, and surprised. “I’m afraid Marinette hasn’t been home since this morning, girls. She told me she wasn’t going to be home for lunch because she was meeting up with a friend of hers. I’m sorry, girls.” Sabine gave them a pitying look, turning away to tend to the customer in front of her. “Dammit! Where could she be?” Alya groaned, leaving the bakery with everyone following behind her. “Who knows? Wait, she mentioned a friend?” Rose asked. Everyone nodded, before Rose turned to Juleka. “What about your brother?! They’re friends, aren’t they? You did mention they hang out a lot!” Rose squealed excitedly, as Juleka nodded. Alya grabbed Rose’s shoulders and shook them excitedly, exclaiming, “Rose! You’re a genius!” 

“Look! It’s Ladybug!” A bystander cried, pointing to the sky. Everyone watched in admiration and awe as the spotted heroine swung over the city, her feline partner not far behind her. 

______

Welp, that’s it for this chapter!! Hope you guys enjoyed it! Remember, if you wanna be tagged, just send me an ask, and i’ll get right to it! :) 

Also! If you have any questions about the stories, me, or anything in general, feel free to ask! I love hearing from you guys, It makes me extremely happy! I’ll be happy to answer anything.

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[weirdfanaus]

Three Weeks

Kara Danvers x Mon-El

inspired by prompt: “I miss you too much to be mad anymore” (i dont remember where i got it from)

warnings: none, just fluff

summary: in the three weeks after breaking up with mon-el, kara realises that she misses him too much and just wants him back.

Words: 761

masterlist | ao3

a/n while writing this, i realised that the fic would kinda fit with the song ‘three weeks’ by james humphrys. But some inspo for this was probably something sadder like: you were good to me by jeremy zucker and chelse cutler or the enemy by  andrew belle. basically sad stuff.

if you want to be added to my taglist just leave a comment or send me a message.

The apartment was once again empty when she opened the door. No smell of food, no sound of hummed music or plates could be heard. It was empty and cold.

She didn't think that she could feel alone so fast after she broke things off with him, but that was it. Cold, alone and with a broken heart.

Work didn't help her to easily get over that moment. It took her mind off of it, yes, but she still found herself most of the time thinking about her now ex-boyfriend, who lied to her about his true heritage.

It's been almost three weeks since they broke it off. They saw each other from time to time. Especially, they had to save the city, but in rest, they were almost like strangers. From lovers to strangers was something that troubled Kara, especially at night or in times like these, when she was alone, in her apartment.

It's been three weeks and she missed him. Missed his smile, his eyes, the way she brought light to her home, their home, how at night she had his arms around her and the world felt safer and more at balance.

She didn't realise when the tears started to fall on her face and that she was still on the threshold of her apartment, thinking that if she were to enter it, she would not sense that it was hers. He made it truly feel like home. He was home.

She angrily threw her bags on the counter, wiped her eyes and took only her phone, keys and wallet and stormed out through the still-open door.

When she entered the DEO, it was late. The sun was already gone, the lights were on and she had just realized that he might have a shift at the bar. But she entered the dimly lit locker room. She used her super hearing to see if he was in the room or close to it and she heard the soft hum of his voice under the loud stream of water.

His voice became clearer and clearer, but the words didn’t make sense to her, she couldn’t understand them. He was possibly singing in his native language, the words dancing softly from his lips. She stood on the threshold between the locker room and the bathroom until he stopped singing and the water was turned off.

And moments later, she was face to face with her ex-boyfriend.

What she saw first were his eyes, the bright blue eyes she loved looking into. He looked hopeful. Then came the dark bags under his eyes, followed by the soft curve of his plump lips. His hair was still wet, water dripping slowly from it. His shirt’s collar was wet and his pyjama pants hung low on his hips.

Kara straightened before him and watched him take her in.

“Everything alright?” he asked. His voice was just as soft as she remembered. It was filled with concern, she understood why he thought that. She looked like she had one of the worst days of her life. She was not injured, fortunately, but her face was filled with sadness, her eyes were like stormy skies.

“I miss you too much to be mad anymore,” she said. And they stood there in that bathroom for moments that felt like hours, days, even eternity. She didn’t like the silence, she despised it.

He didn’t say anything, he just covered the space between them and surrounded her body with his arms. His touch was assuring. Touching him would sure not lead to broken bones, awkward moments. She couldn’t break him.

She took in his scent. The shower gel smelt exactly like the one she gave him on Christmas. He used to be so clueless back then. And he was so warm now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, his nose now in her ruffled hair. She just hugged him more, felt his warmth. She surrounded herself in him. She had missed him so much in the last weeks.

“I know,” she assured both of them that everything would be okay through those words. He kissed her hair, circled his arms more around her. “Can we go home now, please?” she mumbled. She wanted to go to bed in his arms. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he was gone. She was always cold, in search of his warmth.

He nodded, reluctantly let go of her and she took his hand.

That night, Kara had one of the best nights of sleep that month.