#bc she still lives for at least three or four years and is mostly peaceful even if she has episodes

[kresnikcest]

continuing from lrb, i actually am SUPER into lara as horrified/confused outsider pov. i find it very funny if like, either in victor's fd or in the ludger ending, ludger/victor just sometimes think of their first elle whenever they talk about their daughter and it makes sense to the party and julius (if they're alive, for victor) but just sounds weird to anyone who wasn't in on the loop.

i can even envision ludger maybe still being in touch with nova and nova being like "oh..." about daughter!elle and lara is SO confused, what does everyone else know about her daughter that she doesn't?

and if it's victor, it obviously never gets enough to be a problem before victor goes off and murders everyone, but i still like thought of like, lara being thoroughly creeped out by the fractured dimensions, by knowing they're fractured, by knowing what victor is capable of.

if it's the ludger ending though, she probably never finds out...

[zee-writes-and-draws]

Normal world AU where the different buildings are just random groups of people and all of them ended up moving to the small village near the supposedly ‘haunted’ mountain that Samon and Enki grew up on bc property values are low as shit, and all of the minors are adopted by the guards. Qi has basically just grabbed Upa and Liang and ran the hell away from the Chinese mafia. Samon sees this random man dragging two half-dead children with him and this is now the very first time any of the new residents of the village find out the ‘hauntings’ that lowered property values were just a teenage Enki post massive growth spurt and a very small and over-energetic Samon that haven’t been seen in well over a decade.

- Hajime has, unfortunately, agreed to look after Jyugo and Nico while Rock and Uno try to find legal jobs, but it’s a lot on him. He and Seitarou help Uno and Rock fight a case to get custody of the two minors. Yamato is helping Tsukumo get a restraining order against his former agent and various paparazzi, as well as going to therapy so he doesn’t constantly feel the need to put on a persona in front of others. Hajime is a teacher at the local school (since there’s a decent number of local kids and then the building children), Yamato is the school’s coach, and Seitarou sells uniforms/cute festival stuff but is also occasionally seen working with the age 7 and below kids because they’re all very small and nice.

- Kiji is trying to cure Honey of his anger management issues and Trois of his pyromaniac tendencies. His day job is making and testing makeup that everyone buys, like mascara and eyeliner and hair gel. His second in command is working in one of the other small shops, selling everyone clothes (he and Seitarou make the clothing together).

- Kenshirou is only here because some of his dogs are sick and this village has been weirdly good for their health. Along the way he lets Musashi and Hitoshi stay with him because they help on chores and the dogs love both of them very much. He helps with the local stray problem by opening a shelter and rehabilitating most of them (the few who can’t be fixed to near-perfect health are still loved and cared for). Hitoshi bakes lots of food and sells it at Shiro’s restaurant, which is also why his presence is appreciated. Musashi tutors online part-time after Mitsuru rigged up wifi for them. Between all three of their jobs they can afford a place that’s small but has four tiny rooms so each person can a private space. (They sleep in the living room that’s been transformed into the group bedroom).

- Mitsuru is considered the local nuisance in so many ways, but after all of his loudspeakers and amplifiers have been confiscated he’s forced to resort back to regular hand-made instruments, so he at least gets to learn something entertaining as he irritates everyone with his noise-making. He and Momoko live in the same house but there’s a line drawn on the inside and outside that splits the house in half so everyone realizes in all of ten seconds they’re not actually together together, just saving on rent as long-term friends. Momoko works on managing the more official stuff to keep the town from being erased. She’s the unofficial (until the next election of course) mayor of the town at this point. Mitsuru’s day job is rigging up stuff like wifi and helping Hajime with his shop class at the high school.

- Shiro moved here after hearing how wonderful the cuisine is. He approves of being able to gather fresh ingredients on the mountain. Rock is frequently seen at his restaurant, both as a customer and as a worker. Hitoshi was recruited within a week. (Hajime has some mixed feelings but Rock mostly stops acting like an idiot after the first day, so it works out well)

- Inori and Ruka moved here years ago (and dragged the Daisen brothers with them) and are pretty much the only residents who were here before everyone started moving out and the buildings moved in. They’re the only ones initially who know the story behind the hauntings and never shared it out of indifference. Inori works in construction of new buildings/clearing rubble from the old, the Daisen trio help train the different sports teams at the school, and Ruka technically co-owns the makeup business with Kiji but his preferred job is as an unofficial swimming instructor because the two of them don’t get along.

- Samon and Enki bring the village supplies and materials from the mountain and trade this way. Samon has a notable weakness for ice pops, popsicles, and zakuro shaved ice, which he gets to surprise Enki on days it seems like he might want it. The new residents are all pleasantly surprised by how sweet Noriko is. Shiro offers her a job after trying some of her desserts. She bakes on weekends and holidays only to avoid overexerting herself, but the rest of the time her jobs include checking people in, taking orders to Shiro and Rock, and keeping peace if someone starts arguments. Houzuki is the area acupuncture specialist and medic until the Otogi family moves in, but he switches to full time acupuncture and massage therapy after they take up the practice. (they’re better than him at medicine anyways and he’s ok with admitting it).

- Liang and Upa love training on the mountain. Rock joins them frequently, often chatting with Liang as they race up. Qi is marginally less interested in physical activity, but he’s willing to make the hike up with them because of the amazing plant both during the hike and at the arrival itself. In the long run, doing some exercise in this form helps him with his mental health a lot and makes him happier. Tsukumo joins occasionally and talking to Qi helps him gradually come out of his shell.

- Trois takes to the challenge of trying to be constructive in building things instead of weapons and explosives. The downside is he frequently teams up with Mitsuru (who has the most equipment necessary) and therefore there are unique ways of getting around the idea of non-destructive inventions. Honey figures out ways to get Mitsuru his speakers back on the condition that he can use the wiring for his capsules.

- Nico ends up really sad about the lack of wifi so he tries to work with Mitsuru to improve tech, but he’s got a hard time reading the manuals so now Musashi, accompanied by either Uno or Trois depending on the day, can be seen teaching Nico how to read instruction manuals.

- Yamato is still very proud of his Japanese heritage, but he also frequently encourages others to appreciate the culture they live in and the culture they came from. Thanks to him, there’s a small festival hosted each year where everyone brings something like food or games or clothing from their culture and share it with everyone.

- Kiji takes it as a personal challenge to help teach normal world culture to at least one of the Gokuu brothers. Enki is far less willing to go along with the idea that he needs help from someone, so it’s Samon. Inori, who had a similar idea for the last eleven years, is currently trying to teach Samon how to drive. It’s yielding mixed results, but he takes really well to motorbikes. Hajme and Samon have a brief ceasefire whenever the subject of motorcycles comes up.

- No one is allowed to bring up the time that Hajime got lost in the mountain. No  one.

- Kuu comes and goes as he pleases. Mostly he stays at Hajime’s house but sometimes he’ll somehow appear wherever Samon Enki and Noriko are presently staying and lies down in the lap of whoever is trying to meditate. Enki tries to ignore Kuu (and fails), Samon will give him small scritches and complain about Hajime in a quiet tone, and Noriko feeds and pets him.

- In their spare time, many of the adults critique the prison systems they rescued the others from. Kiji, Hajime, and Kenshirou work with Enki to fix things on a bureactraic level, frequently accompanied by Momoko when she isn’t a sole representative in front of various international governments. Hajime knows the prison model perfectly, Kenshirou understands the police aspect that ties into it, and Kiji has several decades of experience serving as a prison guard, and their combined knowledge leads to many of their proposals being pushed pretty far up the ranks. 

- Samon is working on fixing prisons on the level of how each inmate is treated. All the official and formal changes in the world don’t change that there’s also issues with inmates not receiving care, sufficient entertainment, decent things for purchase and not just whether or not they can afford them, all sorts of stuff that slips past the cracks in the paperwork. He’s also the one who’s pushing for  more rehabilitation programs with Kiji and Mitsuru’s help. Between Samon’s knowledge of physical needs of people, Kiji’s balanced addition of general knowledge of what kind of education and paperwork prisoners need for proper rehabilitation to stick, and Mitsuru’s experience in communication, they have a very solid structure. Mitsuru’s ability to middleman and talk to Momoko also helps push their ideas forward.

- Slowly the buildings become more friendly towards one another. Upa smiles more because Nico helped him get out of his shell, there is a photo of Tsukumo laughing as himself for the first time hanging on the wall of Shiro’s restaurant, and Kenshirou’s dogs all adopted different humans to befriend and bond with. Qi gradually gets over his fear of dogs thanks to Musashi and ends up adopting one who works as a service dog for him and keeps him away from panic attacks and self-harming attempts, as well as (gradually) learning how to tell what kind of health Upa and Liang are presently in and alerting the doctor if necessary.

- The time-honored tradition of feuds between the different non-inmates and adults in charge of them continues, but they added in some new competitions. There are now options for multi-building tug-of-war, kids vs adults (and variations) relays, one v one competitions, and general tomfuckery. Most of the time Momoko is the referee, Mitsuru commentates, and although they rarely join in, they tend to tag-team and secure a near-effortless victory. If it’s every person for themselves, Momoko wins unless distracted by Hajime, at which point the rule of funny is frequently used to determine a victor.

[welcometotheocverse]

💞 Elliot & Henry?

MY BOYS <3

Elliot

1) Elliot and Lorelai: They’re just so soft together and I love the idea of Lorelai being given this neurodivergent child and trying her best to do right by him. She listen to info dump even when she starts only being able to catch one word in 20 and tries to keep up with his interests in different sciences  El just thinks the world of her. And in the earlier seasons they’re just so fluffy ;A;

2) Elliot and Rory: ND Codependent twins ;A;. El and Rory are each other’s best friend and cornerstone. Literally the only time ( s) he’s ever gone against his mother is for her. ( specifically when Lorelai marries Christopher and is calling Rory Incessantly he like literally physically takes the phone away from her because “Let Her Have Space” and is very defensive of Rory’s boundaries) 

The thing that gets me about them is they both think they’re the Looking Out/Protecting Twin like Rory is very protective of El and will raise hell if someone hurts him or acts mean towards him and people think “oh its her being the older twin” but Elliot is just as protective or Rory and her happiness like to the point he doesn’t say anything about his feelings regarding Christopher ( not for a while at least) because he wants to see her happy. They also both read together and infodump a lot together even though they have different interests and listen I’m love them a many.

They also both think the other one’s the nicer twin which everyone thinks is hilarious because “you both have bambi face”

3) Elliot and Lane: They’re a brotp that snuck up on me bc at first I was like “oh she’s more Rory’s friend” but then the more I thought about it the more I’m like “no..no it’s The Three Of Them” and also “okay so not only would El fight Ms Kim in Doose’s parking lot for Lane he also almost got in a playground fight for her”

 Lane is Rory and Elliot’s first ( and possibly only?? Did Rory even Talk to anyone else in SHH in canon??) friend and while there are things she and Rory share that El doesn’t she’s also the one El goes to when he’s frustrated about Christopher or his grandparents ( because no one understand Overbearing and Controlling like Lane) and it’s almost like...the stuff he can’t tell Rory ( being frustrated with his father, feeling like he’s alone being frustrated by his father because Rory all but gets stars in her eyes no matter how many times Christopher lets her down and he loves her okay he loves that’s she’s so willing to hold out and forgive and be patient because she’s Rory  and he would never ask her to be anything or anyone else but he’s...not)

And the thing is Lane gets it. Lane talks about how she has to keep her cds under planks, she can’t tell her mother about  the things that make her happy. She can’t share her feelings with her mother. Her mother doesn’t know her, not really. And she keeps things to herself to keep the  peace and because she loves her mother so so much and she wants to please her so badly. ( and that Elliot gets, keeping things to yourself and swallowing your words because you hate the idea of upsetting someone you love so much even if Rory and Lorelai wouldn’t react badly if he did express himself he just...cares a lot about not upsetting them.)  

They just commiserate a lot together and understand each other on a very basic level. They don’t hang out as much specially after the Yale years pick up but they’re the very definition of “I could not hang out with you for months and then pick up like nothing happened)

Also they’re the founding members of the Protect Rory Squad.

4) Elliot and Luke: Elliot and Luke vibe really easily because they’re both introverted. They can literally just sit together in silence and be okay with that. Also Luke scares people so when Elliot becomes overwhelmed or doesn’t want to deal with socializing ( or answering nosy questions like he knows they mean well but they’re....a lot sometimes) he’s known to hang out there and do homework or read or just do whatever he knows he’s always welcomed there. It’s his favorite place aside from Andrew’s bookstore. Also Luke’s known him since he was a babie. 

At least once someone’s mentioned that Rory takes after Lore but El obviously takes after “his father” more temperament wise when the four are out ( in the season Luke and Lorelai are dating) and Elliot absolutely beams

5) Elliot and Finn&Colin: Literally the top dynamic  and the only one for a while ( like the first image i had of El in my mind was him meeting them i had no plot pre yale I had to work backwards lol) Finn and Colin are the first friends he makes that...hang out with him outside of Rory? Like yeah he has Lane but she still doesn’t see him as much ( as they got older Lane and Rory would do “girl talk or talk about boys and El would kinda..hang back also Ms. Kim doesn’t let him in the house as much because he’s a boy) specially after Yale since they’re far away and “wow the whole Adults Can’t See Their Friends For Weeks thing really bites huh” 

They’re also the first lgbtqa people he meets ( in his canon at least) and it sorta...finally makes him feel less isolated ( something he always felt in Stars Hollow no matter how much he loved his town) Colin and Finn on the flip side basically take one look at him( and recognize that he is isolated and lonely and has never met someone like him before)  and go “we’re adopting you” ( and  like that’s important too, they  approached him not him-and-Rory) and really take him under his wing and Elliot’s very “???” but he also clings to them but fast and they become inseparable like Elliot ends up just walking to  their place whenever  he’s upset or needs company or both ( he goes to their place after the football game at Yale) even as all the drama with Rogan is happening and I’m just really soft for them.

Henry

1) Henry and Jess: Jess doesn’t think he’s a good older brother. Henry heavily disagrees. These two are the only ones who know what living with Liz was like and while people in Stars Hollow are nice Henry really  only trusts his brother. Jess is also they one who’s able to read him best and vice versa and Jess is angry in a very “fuck you all” way and Henry’s mostly scared but  they both will speak up for each other ( Jess will ignore Luke and pop off about “stop tryin to help me” but will also approach Luke because “listen can you save the dramatic rants for when he’s not there? Yelling scares him.” and “you need to Tell him he can grab the food you buy or he won’t know” and really that shows a lot when  you think about Jess’ relationship with communication in season 2 on the flip side Henry often serves as a “Jess translator” and they’re just both very in each other’s corner its ;A;)

2) Henry and Rory: Henry  and Rory bond instantly and I’m v sappy about it like Rory’s never had anything like a younger sibling and she becomes the only person he’ll be around without Jess ( either its her and Luke or Luke then her I’m not sure yet)  for a while and after the whole “Send him back” situation she just up and appoints herself as his older sibling and makes sure he knows that.

3) Henry and Luke: Luke legit can’t say no to him or be mad at him and the fact that he acts as “a Jess translator” means he  sorta tells him a lot about how they grew up and Luke straight up goes “I can’t send  them back these are my kids now.” Luke’s also a lot softer with him because of him being younger and not as angry as Jess and Henry’s a lot more open to having a parent than Jess is and they’re just very soft. Luke helps Henry feel safe and Henry helps Luke learn he can be a dad.

4) Henry and Lulu: Lulu had training (due to her being a teacher ) to spot children with signs of bad homes so she takes one look at Henry and goes “yup” and pays extra attention to Henry which Henry winds up loving her for. She also basically strong arms Luke in accepting her help in re to teaching him about kids because “He’s my student and he needs your help. And to help him you need my help” and is a main factor in Luke and Jess communicating better ( because Jess might not be her student but he’s still a troubled kid) since there’s only so much Henry can do when he’s still scared Luke means it when he rants. ( Henry loves her for this also since it leads to Jess and Luke yelling less at each other) She just becomes a very good presence in his life.

5) Henry and April: Listen Henry  and April are actually close in age ( he’s 8 in season 2 which makes him around 12-13 in season 6 and ever since I realized this I haven’t stopped thinking about how much chaotic sibling energy the two can have and how Henry would just be “Luke’s really good at being a dad right?” and also talk about fantasy books together and just be cute cousins.

send me 💞 + an oc and ill tell you my top five favorite dynamics of theirs!

[maandags]

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon! reader) {part iii}

something resembling peace n  quiet (ish) b4 the real shitstorm yeet

---

Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Word count: 6.3K

Genre: Angst 

Notes: ft witch!Coran bc he doesnt get enough love -- masterlist -- {previous} -- {next} --

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small-town boy in a big arcade

i got addicted to a losing game

 ~ Arcade, Duncan Laurence

---

His fever isn't going down.

It's been five days and his fever just won't go down.

He's passed out on your couch, waking up occasionally so you can feed him and give him water to drink. Sometimes you have to shake him for minutes at a time just so he wakes up. You tried everything you knew, but the medicine you give him has no effect and the medicine you probably need is nowhere at your disposal.

It's safe to say you have no clue how to proceed and also are frustrated: you're risking everything here. You're risking being found by everything you have been outrunning for years and years. The combined auras of an angel and a demon are the closest thing to a signal flare you know.

And he just might die, and it will all have been for nothing, and you might still be located by Management and you would have to move. Quite bittersweet, you think wryly.

So Keith dying isn't an option. That much is clear. But as you sit in your armchair and glare at him, arms wrapped around the knees you pulled up to your chest, you have no idea as to how you're going to stop it from happening.

You clumsily wrapped him in a blanket when he collapsed on your couch. He's kicked it off since, and it lies in a bundle at his feet. His skin is ashy and pale and sweaty and his hair sticks to his forehead.

And his fucking fever isn't going down.

Usually you'd go straight to a doctor if any of your human friends were to contract a fever this stubborn–but you suspected bringing a dying angel to the average doctor won't do much good except frighten the poor sod to death. He looks like Death, you remark. What with his black wings and overall dark aesthetic, which is quite rare for an angel to have. You think, at least. It's not like you've met lots of them.

You sigh, filling a glass of water and holding it to his lips. He reacts almost subconsciously–he's not quite all there, but he's gulping the water down with gusto and you can only pray to the Dark Below that he'll hold it down, though that did seem to get better the last day or so.

The first two days were a nightmare. Keith tossed and turned and held nothing down, his stomach too upset. You had him spend his second night in your bathtub because he puked all over your couch. When he was asleep (which was most of the time) he had nightmares and whimpered constantly, and when he was awake he had hallucinations, his eyes clouded over. He even tried to attack you at one point ('tried' being the keyword here–he took a most pathetic swing at your face and cried when you dodged it easily).

If you had any common sense, you would have kicked him out long ago–hell, if you had any common sense, you never even would have considered taking him in.

Yet he is here. And you are here. And you don't exactly know how to feel about that.

Half the time you wish he'd just die already so you could be done at least with all of this. The next moment you feel horribly guilty and internally yell at yourself for thinking that way–because you made this choice. You decided to help him, and you should go through with it, even if it meant to be woken up at three in the morning because Keith was wailing again.

You brush your fingers across his forehead, hoping against better knowledge his fever had gone down, but he's still burning up. He's not tossing and turning anymore, he's not throwing up everywhere anymore. The last time he had a nightmare you actually noticed was more than a day ago. His breaths are shallow and irregular, and while you're no doctor, you know that's never a good sign.

You'd almost gotten used to having him in your apartment, and now you barely even notice he's here.

You've been on some extensive phone calls with Allura since Keith flopped into your life (which mostly consist of you yelling and Allura listening, occasionally muttering "go off, sis" into the horn) and you were itching for one now. You pull out your phone. Allura picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N, love, I have time for like, maybe a ten minute rant, because I'm at work and even though it's my break time my co-workers are giving me huge side-eyes and I still have four hours to go–"

"That's okay," you say quickly. "I'm fine, actually. No rants."

Allura pauses. "Sure about that?"

"Positive. I just had a question." You decide to throw in your favourite excuse whenever you have a weird question. As a nurse and your friend, Allura is often your first choice if you need to fact-check anything health-related."I'm writing this story..."

"Ah," Allura says. "Of course. Shoot."

You feel kind of bad for lying to her. But then again, telling the truth isn't really an option here, is it? "What does one do to break a fever that's been going strong for, say, five days, and literally no kind of aspirin is working and you can't take them to a doctor?"

"Huh. Well. All you can really do without, like, medical intervention, is wait, really. Yes, Jane, I'll be done in a minute. Have them sweat it out. Keep hydrated, remove excess layers of clothing, all that jazz. How high of a fever are we talking?"

"Um..." You glance at the thermometer on the coffee table. You'd taken his temperature just before calling Allura, to see if there was any change. Spoiler alert, there wasn't. "41.2 degrees Celcius."

Allura whistles. "For an adult? 'Cause if this is a kid, they have a problem."

"No, no, it's an adult."

"Okay. Well. You know, fevers aren't inherently bad for you. It's actually a way for the body to, like, kill heat-sensitive bacteria and viruses. So it's actually a good thing. Honestly I'm gonna just advise your character to stay in bed and drink water and sit in front of a fan. They should be fine."

You pucker your lips, poking Keith's arm with your toe. He doesn't move. "All right."

"You sound kind of unsure," says Allura, a tinge of concern to her voice. A pause. "Certain this is a fictional character?"

You bite back a curse. "Well. You know. I was–I was just curious."

Allura sighs. You imagine her rubbing the back of her neck as she shakes out her legs. "You know... as a medical professional–" the sarcasm drips from her voice– "I'm not really supposed to, like, recommend these types of methods to people because generally everyone thinks they're bullshit, but..." She hesitates. "My uncle Coran has this shop. He sells lots of weird, like, plants and crystals and crap like that. God, I can't believe I'm saying this. He might be able to help. Here's the address."

You lurch over to your desk and snatch a pencil and a post-it block, scribbling down the address she dictates. "Thanks, Allura."

"You are very welcome, dearest, but I really need to get back to work now. Bye."

"Bye."

You stare at the note for a while after Allura hung up. You don't exactly know the place, but a quick Google search helps you pinpoint it. It's not even that far, maybe a 20 minute walk. But something makes you feel uncomfortable about it.

He sells lots of weird, like, plants and crystals and crap like that.

It definitely sounds like something you should be a bit suspicious of. Plants and crystals. Hm.

But then again, you think as you cast another look at Keith who hasn't moved in over an hour, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, it's not like you have many other options.

Allura said to wait it out. But maybe fevers aren't as harmless on angels as they are on humans. Maybe waiting it out will kill him, and you will have to live with it knowing that you did nothing to stop it.

Grumbling through gritted teeth, you yank your jacket from its hanger, write out a quick note for Keith in case he wakes up (he probably won't, but just in case) and dash out the door.

It takes you surprisingly long to find the place.

What was a 20 minute walk turned to a 30 minute walk, then to an hour long walk. You zoom in on your phone's map, narrowing your eyes and combing through every little alley you passed, gnashing your teeth. No matter how hard you look, the shop simply doesn't seem to exist anywhere but on the map. Is this Allura's idea of a prank?

But that's not like her, you remind yourself. And somehow, the fact that you can't seem to reach the place only makes you want to find it more. So you grit your teeth and clench the note with the address (that you just can't seem to memorize, no matter how hard you try) in your fist and march on.

You round a corner and slam into a tall and lanky body.

You yelp, arms flying out to regain your balance. The person in front of you gives a surprised hum–they don't seem to be fazed at all. You look up, prepared to give them a scolding about how they've got to watch where they're fucking going and blink, all words dying in your throat.

"You okay, kiddo?" says the most eccentric-looking man you've ever seen.

"Uh..." you give your head a shake, trying not to stare at the man's bright orange hair and moustache, or the fact that he's dressed like one of those fortune tellers out of fantasy stories, complete with the huge ornate earrings and everything. "Yeah. Fine. Thanks."

The man's light eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you make a mental note to not let his appearance deceive you: you have the feeling he's much smarter than he looks. "Were you looking for something?"

You clamp your mouth shut, running a hand through your hair. "Hm. Actually. Yes." You frown, wondering if this is a good idea, but if anyone would know where Coran's shop is–the shop selling weird crystals and plants and crap like that–this dude would be it. You hold up the crumpled note. "Do you know where this place is?"

The man takes one look at the writing and smiles, a wide and slightly unhinged grin that has you almost instantly regretting your choice. "Well, I sure would hope I know where my own shop is!"

You try and resist the urge to flinch. "Oh, really?" you squeak, shrinking back. It's not a very demon-like thing to do, you think at the very back of your mind, but this guy looks like he could give even the scariest entities of the Below a run for their money. "Neat."

The man–who you assume is Coran–grins even wider and whips an arm around your shoulders. "Well, then! Let's not beat around the bush any longer!" He has an accent you can't place. It fits him, strangely. Everything about the guy is strange.

He whirls around, dragging you with him, and walks exactly three steps before slamming open the door to the shop on the corner. You frown, ducking out from under his arm and giving him a suspicious glare. "What is this? I've passed this shop at least five times." You glance up at the sign and do a double take. Where had previously hung a sad wooden board announcing a tailor's shop hangs now a weirdly pretty sign that seems to be made out of plants. Vines twisting to and fro and entwining and overlapping, fluorescent yellow-and-blue flowers you have never seen before dropping from it in clumps. It sways slightly in the air. There is no wind.

All the hairs stand up at the back of your neck and your fists clench at your sides.

"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough," comes Coran's amused voice from behind you. You spin on your heels, narrowing your eyes at him. You're not unfamiliar with these kinds of experiences–the supernatural, the unsettling, the technically-impossible–yet Coran manages to throw you off in a way nothing really has before.

The atmosphere around you has dimmed, the sole source of light the doorway and the glowing flowers dangling from the sign. You're not in the alley you were in not one minute ago anymore. Coran raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, and you notice how different he looks in this new environment. He fits here perfectly. The slight curl of his lips says, Well? What are you waiting for?

You think of Keith. How he would react if he were in this situation. If the roles were reversed and you were the one dying on his sofa. You push the door open and march into the shop.

You almost slam directly into a tree.

"Careful, careful," says Coran quickly as he grabs your elbow. He slips past you and leads you into his shop that looks like no other shop you've ever seen.

Shelves are stacked with pots and vials and little baggies, all propped one on top of the other. It looks extremely unstable. You resist the urge to pluck out one jar from the bottom and see if everything tumbles down.

Every price tag is hand-written, and when you take a closer look a chill runs down your spine. One never-before shared secret. Three childhood memories. none of the prices ask for actual money, which now seems pretty useless and weighs down the wallet in your pocket. One particular tag says Your deepest fear. How dramatic.

Every plant seems to glow, for some reason. You notice more of those fluorescent yellow-and-blue flowers like the ones hanging from the sign outside, and flowers that look similar but in different colours. There are plants that remind you of grapevines, snaking around trees and shelves and tangling themselves around every support they can find. Clusters of small transparent bells float from the branches, even smaller flicks of light trapped inside them. You squint at one of them, grabbing it out of the air and studying it closely. Something is fluttering inside of the little sphere. A firefly, maybe. Maybe. When you release it, it zips back to its original spot among the other glowing bubbles.

Coran plucks a few dead leaves from a tree stump partially hidden from view by a huge black-and-white striped candle. He grinds the leaves to dust in the palm of his hand and drops them in the candle's flame. It glows bright green for a moment, then a comforting scent begins to spread through the air. You inhale deeply out of reflex. It smells like nothing you've ever smelled before, vaguely familiar scents all mushed into one; your favourite hot chocolate (with a hint of caramel), Allura's fruity conditioner, the animal shampoo you use on the dogs at the shelter. The air when it's just stopped raining. Towels, fresh out of the dryer.

You blink yourself back to reality with a sharp jerk of your head. Coran is already moving on to the very back of the shop and you hurry to catch up with him, ducking to avoid the arms of a rather sad-looking ragdoll as they reach for you. "Hey, hey–who are you?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Coran."

"Yes, I know that, but like–" you gesture vaguely to the general space around you– "who are you?"

Coran thinks about that for a moment, one finger pressed to the side of his nose. "A hobbyist," he decides.

"Right." You take a step back, eyeing the dark and slimy substance shlorping across the floor towards your feet suspiciously. It shrinks back beneath your glare. "What are those hobbies, exactly?"

"You know," says Coran, waving his arms around, "plants. Medicine. The occasional cursed artifact. Just regular stuff like that."

"Regular stuff like that," you echo. Caws sound from above you. When you look up, you spot a bird slightly hidden in the shadows of the tree in which it is perked (was that tree this big before?), glowing red eyes fixated on yours. You raise an eyebrow at it, cocking your head. It mirrors you, feathers ruffling and swooping from one side of its head to the other. It screams again, then spreads its wings and climbs up the tree with a speed you didn't expect. Literally climbs: there are claws on the joints of its wings that it uses to hack into the tree's bark. You brush a bit of dust off your shoulder and continue walking.

Stepping over the puddle of dark slime, you follow Coran even further into the shop. "You said you do medicine," you shout after him. "I need medicine to save my–" The words hitch in your throat. What is Keith to you? An acquaintance? An enemy? A guest? "My friend," you settle on.

Coran throws you a look over his shoulder, throwing off his ornate blue coat and suspending it in the air where it floats obediently beside him. He plants a hand on a bony hip. "Your friend," he repeats, a glint in his eyes you don't trust at all.

"Yeah." He's not getting more out of you, you assure yourself. That's it.

Coran watches you for a moment. "Hm." He turns around and starts rummaging through the shelves packed with jars and boxes and bottles, pulling out a number that all look the same to you, but evidently Coran knows exactly what he's doing. Occasionally he asks you questions.

"Reasonably high fever, is that right?"

"Yes."

He fumbles for a mortar and dumps a clump of brown-reddish leaves in it.

"Hallucinations? Nightmares? Inexplicable bouts of extreme hunger?"

"Yes, yes, and... no? Not that I know of?"

Humming, he adds a few drops of a clear liquid and a pinch of powder from a leather pouch. The mixture starts to sizzle and you eye it cautiously. Its colour shifts from a muddy purple to a darker blue. Coran whistles through his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the many pots around him as he searches for the next ingredient. His eyes focus on something behind you and he gestures with his pestle. "Grab that round orange pot for me, will you."

You turn. The pot in question is small and kind of hard to spot, and you have to twist your arm in strange shapes to reach it from where it's blocked by other plants and rocks. It's dusty and surprisingly heavy, and when you turn it over there's a crudely painted picture of a skull on the lid. Your head snaps up and your fingers tighten around the pot.

Coran rolls his eyes. "I didn't have any other pot to put it in. I'm not gonna murder your friend."

You hand the pot over to him reluctantly, keeping a close eye on whatever it is he's doing. Inside is a reddish-brown paste, and Coran scoops two heavy spoonfuls out and mixes it into the blue mixture. It becomes a pleasant shade of violet. He grabs a round marble-like thing from a vase filled with similar spheres and chucks it into a fire pit at your feet. Flames burst to life, searing hot and sending you stumbling back from the wave of pure heat that comes rolling over you. Coran puts a lid on the mortar and drops it into the fire.

"So, that's gotta bake for a minute," he says cheerily, spinning around and clapping his hands. He snaps his fingers, and immediately vines begin writhing and entwining until a stool has formed. He plops down, facing you. "You have questions. Ask them. Go on."

"Will you answer them?"

he flashes that wicked grin of his. "Maybe."

You grit your teeth, staring into the flames roaring in their pit. The longer you look at them, the wilder they grow. Agitated.

"Oh, dear, don't look at them. They don't like being watched."

Your gaze snaps back to him. "How did you know what's wrong with my friend?"

"I didn't. I guessed," he adds with an eyeroll when you narrow your eyes at him. "It's easier to guess than you might think. When customers are especially preoccupied with something I can usually read it right off of them. You were no different."

"Right." You pause, not sure which of the hundred and forty questions swirling through your mind to ask next. "What if the medicine doesn't work? Can I come back?"

"It'll work."

"But if it doesn't–"

"Are you doubting my abilities?"

"What? No, but–"

"It'll work."

His tone makes it clear there's no room for discussion. At the sight of his dangerously glinting eyes (or maybe they're just reflecting the flickering flames) you decide to veer onto a safer topic. "Can everyone get into your shop? Why couldn't I find it until you showed me?"

Coran slouches a bit in his throne of vines (it's got a back and armrests now, too, and it's growing those little glowing grapes) and considers the question. "Everyone can technically get into the shop," he says slowly, as if carefully choosing his words, "but not everyone will. It's not hidden, exactly–not to the people who aren't looking."

That confuses you. "So you're saying one won't be able to find the shop if they're actively looking for it?"

"Sort of."

"Does that mean that the people who do find it aren't looking for it in the first place?"

"I guess so? Man, kid, you're asking difficult questions."

"I'm curious." You fold your arms, tucking your chin down to your chest. "And that makes no sense anyway because I found it and I was looking for it. So."

"Yeah, but you didn't find it until you actually ran into me and I showed you." Coran leaps up and stretches out his lanky limbs. "So, we still have a bit of time left before that's ready. Do you want to arrange payment now?"

Caution crept into your veins as you remember the strange price tags you saw upon entering the store. But you're not getting this medicine for free, you remind yourself. Keith won't get better by himself. The price was the price and you're willing to pay it. So you nod.

Coran grabs a box. He opens it, and inside are the last things you expected: stacks of paper, each one scribbled upon with minute precision, every sheet adorned with different handwriting. He hands you a blank sheet: it's about the size of a business card, yellowish-white and kind of grainy to the touch. It reminds you of parchment.

He also hands you a pen. It looks like a regular ballpoint pen, and when you shoot him a questioning look–you had expected at least, like, a quill with purple ink or something–he shrugs. "They're cheap. And easy to charm."

Right. You roll your eyes. "So what's the price?"

His eyes are just a little bit too shiny. "What do you want most?"

You sigh, long and drawn out. Your grip on the pen tightens ever so slightly. "Really? The way too overused one?"

Coran shrugs again, gesturing to the blank card in front of you. "It's overused for a reason, kid. It just happens to work really well."

You clench your jaw, tapping the pen against the wooden surface of the table, forcing yourself to think about the question in a serious manner.

What do you want most?

You rack your brain for an answer, puckering your lips. There are a lot of things you want. You want Allura to be safe and happy. She's got a demon for a friend, for fuck's sake. You want to not have to worry every day about Management finally tracking you down and locking you up in the Below. To feel safe.

You bring the point of the pen down to the paper and start writing, frowning when the ink doesn't appear. You go over the lines a few times, even scribble a bunch of lines in a corner to get the pen to work, but to no avail. The ink stubbornly refuses to stain your piece of parchment.

"Your pen doesn't work," you say, irritated.

Coran casts you a knowing smile. "It works just fine. Try again."

You try again. No results. You throw down the pen, letting your head drop and taking a deep breath as you lean against the desk, because you know exactly where this is going. You have experience with these kinds of enchanted objects. You chew on the inside of your cheek, glaring at the pen as if it personally murdered your firstborn.

It wants the truth.

And you refuse. You refuse to give it what it wants because it's ridiculous. Absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

But this is the price. This is the price you told yourself you would pay no matter what.

A deep breath. One more.

You snatch up the pen, gripping it so tightly your knuckles go white, and press it down onto the paper. Immediately the ink flows out, letting you write your re-evaluated answer. It almost seems to sneer at you and when you throw the pen down, handing the card to a way too smug-looking Coran, you refuse to look him in the eye.

The medicine is ready.

Coran pulls it out of the fire using tongs (because it might be magical fire, but it's still fire, and it's generally not a good idea to stick your hand in fire) and drops it in a tub of water you're sure wasn't there before. A moment later he pulls it out and removes the lid.

The paste has transformed itself into a rock-hard ball about the size of a large pill, perfectly round and kind of rough and sandy at the surface, and when Coran hands it to you it's almost freezing to the touch. It startles you so much that you almost drop it.

"Smash it to bits and put the shards in this here baggie–" he hands you what looks like a tea filter– "and let it hang in a glass of cold water for a while. When the thingie's drained of its colour and goes clear and the water has turned bright blue you make sure he drinks the whole thing before it goes warm, yeah? That's very important. He's gotta drink it right away, and he's gotta drink the whole thing. It might not work as well if he doesn't drink the whole thing."

The fact that Coran refers to the pill as "the thingie" makes you more than a bit uncomfortable, but you decide to take his word for it, because what other choice do you have?

"Right." You turn to leave, when one more thing pops into your mind. "Actually," you face him again, "I have one more question."

Coran sighs. "You have a lot of questions."

You ignore him. "How do you know Allura? Or, rather, how does Allura know you? She's the one that gave me your address in the first place," you explain. "She's my friend."

To your surprise, Coran smiles–a genuine smile this time, where his eyes crinkle in the corners, not the manic grin he's shown up till now. "I knew her father very well. I've watched her grow up. She knows she can always knock on my door."

It doesn't make much sense–what business would Allura's dad, world-famous scientist, have with this man? You decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. "How much does she know? About all this?"

"I think she knows, deep down. I don't know how much she believes. What she tells herself is real, and what isn't."

You hesitate. "Does she know about me? What I am, I mean?"

Coran heaves an exasperated sigh. "Yeesh, kid. How am I supposed to know that? I didn't even know who you were up till now!" But you get the feeling he's lying. "Now get going. Go on." He starts shooing you towards the door, gently pushing you through the shop.

You blink in surprise, too stunned to do anything but follow suit. "Wait," you stammer. "Wait, I have more questions! Will I be able to come back?"

But Coran waves you off, giving you nothing but a smile and a "Bye-bye!"

You stumble over the threshold, the pill and its baggie in your clenched fist. Cold renders your fingers almost numb, and you open them, exposing the pill to the night air. White smoke curls up from it, and you turn it over to your other hand, wincing as you rub your fingers to get a bit of warmth in them again. It's like you're holding a hailstone.

When you look up, you're disoriented by the bright lights from street lamps around you, and the fact that you're not in the same alley you were in before you entered Coran's shop. It's not even the same block. You make a full turn, dazed, before you recognise the little grocery store on the corner of the street: it's the store where you do most of your shopping. It's right across from your apartment building. Coran deposited you as close as he could to your home.

You push open the door to your apartment with your shoulder, icy pill in one hand and two bottles of chocolate milk and scotch whisky in the other, letting exhaustion creeping into your muscles as soon as you enter the familiar environment. One look to your sofa confirms Keith has barely moved over the hours you were gone. The note and the glass of water you left for him sit untouched on the coffee table.

You make your way to the kitchen and set down the bottles, grabbing a small tray on which you drop the pill. Smash it to bits, said Coran. The back end of a kitchen knife does the job just fine. To your surprise, the pill shatters immediately, shards flying everywhere. You curse, sweeping them all up and dropping them into the tea filter and filling a glass with cold water. As soon as you hang the bag in the glass, blue drips out of it in wisps, slowly tinting the water a cool blue colour. You drop onto a kitchen chair and watch with your chin in your hands, the droplets of blue seeping from the bag mesmerising.

When the water doesn't seem to get any bluer, you peek into the bag. The shards are completely colourless, now resembling bits of clear glass more than anything else. You carefully pick up the glass, hissing through your teeth at the coldness of it.

Keith is still fast asleep, shivering. He's thin, you notice. You can see his ribs through his shirt. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, you try gently nudging him awake. He doesn't respond.

"Come on," you grumble, grabbing his face and tapping his cheek. "Wake up!" Your stomach twists at the thought that he might not wake up in time. The medicine will have warmed up. You should have woken him before preparing it! "Please," you whisper, swallowing back the lump in your throat. "Don't let this have been for nothing. Come on. Wake up, dammit!"

He groans under your touch. You breathe out a shaky sigh of relief as you coerce him into sitting up. "Don't you fucking dare fall asleep again." He looks at you groggily.

You raise the glass to his chapped lips. "Drink up."

He takes a sip and flinches, bursting into coughs. "Cold," he manages. You almost wince at how weak his voice sounds–barely a whisper. He'll get better, you remind yourself. He just has to drink this and he'll get better.

"I know," you mutter, nudging the glass to his lips again. "Drink it. It'll make you feel better."

He eyes you suspiciously but obliges, squeezing his eyes shut as he gulps down the contents of the glass. He shivers, smacking his lips when it's empty and you put it on the floor. "Ah. Gross." But as he shifts, you can already see the colour return to his cheeks.

"Rest," you say, brushing strands of hair away from his forehead. "You'll feel better in the morning." Your voice is shaky and your hands tremble as you bring the glass back to the kitchen and thoroughly wash it, using about a quarter of the bottle of dish soap, running it under the hot water until the stubborn cold is completely gone.

You're tired. You don't even have the energy to shower, so you brush your teeth and crumple into bed, only taking off your boots and trousers. You keep your socks on and pull the comforter tighter around you. You're cold.

As you turn to face the wall, you think back to Coran's stupid enchanted pen. Wondering if you've made a mistake. The words you ended up writing down looping through your mind, over and over again, lighting up in front of you whenever you close your eyes. What do you want most?

I want to be safe from Management, was your first answer. The answer the pen hadn't let you write down. And it was what you wanted most–or at least what you wanted most until Keith had shown up on your doorstep just over a week ago.

What do you want most?

You drift off to sleep, the question nagging at the back of your mind.

You jolt awake at the crash, bolting up from your bed and racing for the kitchen, where the sound had come from. In your hand is the knife you keep in your nightstand. Your knuckles are white around the hilt. You slam a hand on the light switch, and the person bent over and hidden behind your fridge hits their head and yells in pain, and you brandish your knife and scream at them to Stay back!

"It's just me! Y/N!" Keith says, holding up his hands above his head.

You huff out a breath, letting the knife drop to your side. "Keith?"

He nods, blinking and squinting against the bright light. You're only barely over the shock of seeing him up and about, yet you can't help but notice how thin he looks and how weary and sunken his eyes are. His eyes keep flicking back to the knife still in your hand, and you quickly snap it shut, slipping it in the pocket of your sweatpants.

"So I take it you're feeling better?"

He nods again. "I'm hungry," he says. His voice isn't quite back to normal–it's still quite hoarse from not having used it in over five days–but you suspect it won't take very long. "Sorry for startling you. I'll go back to sleep."

You grab his arm before he can walk past you. "Nonsense. You've slept for five days straight. I'm hungry too, anyway. I can order takeout?"

He gives you a tentative smile. "That'd be great."

And that's how you end up sitting in your brightly lit kitchen at four in the morning, eating out of cardboard Chinese takeout boxes, with an angel whose life you saved. His wings are completely concealed now and don't bother him when he sits in a chair or lies down. While neither of you talks much, you both sneak glances when you think the other isn't looking.

What do you want most?

He looks nervous, and even though he insists he's not tired you can tell he's fighting against the weight of his eyelids, his movements droopy and slow, as if he's moving through layers of syrup. When he almost drops his fork (at four A.M. you're allowed to eat Chinese with a fork) out of exhaustion, you nudge his leg with your foot under the table.

"Go back to sleep."

"I'm fine. I'm still hungry."

"You can eat tomorrow. You're barely able to hold yourself upright, idiot."

He sighs but pushes his chair back and stands up. His knees immediately buckle beneath him, and you shoot out of your chair and only just manage to catch him before he drops to the ground. "All right, okay. There we go. I got you."

"Not feeling as good as I thought," Keith mutters into your shoulder as you practically drag him to the sofa.

"Evidently."

You tuck him in (it seems like such a childish gesture–but curled up like that, looking thin and fragile, Keith reminds you of a small kid and it just feels like the right thing to do) and resist the weird urge to plant a kiss on his forehead. You settle for a somewhat awkward pat on the shoulder.

You stick the leftover food in the fridge and make your way back to your own room. You're still kind of cold, so you keep the sweatpants and sweatshirt on, bringing the knife out of your pocket and setting it back on your nightstand before climbing into bed.

The buzzing of the city outside of your window keeps you up for hours as you toss and turn. Feelings you don't know what to make of churn through you. Relief at the fact that the medicine seems to be working. Fear, because you don't really know how to proceed now. A demon saving an angel's life–that one's pretty much unheard of, you think bitterly.

Oh, if Management were to find out... not only would your fate be settled, you would have signed Keith's death warrant along with it. The comforter bunches in your clenched fists and you twist around, shutting your eyes resolutely.

What do you want most?

[purecamp]

Hi, I have a question about your mamma mia au! Is Pat dead on Here I Go Again? Because I was thinking that if she passed away before higa, Sharon and Willam would attend the funeral right? Wouldn't Sharon bring Trixie too? Wouldn't Willam go talk to her and get suspicious about Trixie? Is this me subtly asking you to write an oneshot about it just because I'm not ready to let go of this universe and also wanting you to write more Shillam? 😂

ahaha anon this tickled me tbh. first of all thanks for the love (!!!), so i’ll try to answer in parts

-unfortunately she has passed before higa because she would be 113, which is possible but... unlikely ahaha -ive been debating this since waaaay before u asked me bc its something i thought about a lot, like would sharon bring trixie or not? would she even go? lots 2 think about, decisions decisions -i would write oneshots for you in a second. plz feel free to request them at any time omg

anyway, i guess i’m gonna give it a go here! 

She was a good age, Sharon knew that. Spritely in nature right up until her last moments, Patricia Belli passed away in her retirement home at the age of ninety six.

Her letter had arrived in the post; a short and not-so-sweet note letting Sharon know that if she received this letter, then she had died, and the nursing home staff had actually honoured her request of them to send it to her. Somewhat of a doting grandma - owing to the fact that Sharon had no idea what Pat would be to Trixie if she even was related - she had attached some plastic-wrapped sweets and lollipops.

God, this was going to be difficult. On top of having to close the hotel, at least for a day whilst she attended the funeral, Sharon was going to have to explain the concept of dying to her three-year-old girl, who thought the world was nothing but sparkles and sunshine.

And that was without slotting in time for her own grief. In four years, Pat had transformed Sharon’s life, and she owed her everything.

Times like these were when Sharon wished she had a little bit of help. She needed to cry and sniff and weep into somebody, to wallow in the horrible feeling of finally being alone in the world with herself as the only adult to rely on. She needed to continue working in order to stay alive, and keep her home paid for and her daughter fed. She needed to sit down and explain to Trixie than Nana Pat was gone, and she wouldn’t be coming back. She needed someone else to bundle her up for once and tell her it was all going to be okay.

“You alright?” Maria broke her out of her thoughts, tapping her as she went past behind the bar to fetch a few more bottles of ale.

Sharon grabbed a rag and continued drying up the glasses - Maria had offered to extend the hotel into her bar, meaning Sharon now managed a hotel and taverna in one. “Yeah, just... Can’t believe she’s gone, you know? I always felt like Pat was gonna live forever.”

Maria nodded. “It will be strange, we miss her around here. She was regular for many years at this taverna. Party held here after the service, in her honour.”

“She’d like that. Everyone getting drunk for her.” She sighed, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to have to tell Trix. She’s only young, after all.”

Shrugging, Maria offered a kindly smile. “Brave and strong, like her mother. Even if teeny tiny.”

Despite her heavy heart, Sharon laughed.

---

“Mama! You’re here!”

The same cheerful greeting that Sharon was met with every afternoon came at her once again, lifting her low mood a little. A flurry of pink shot towards her, Sharon noting a smudge of blue paint on her face and some scuffs on her shoes from a day of playing before she was tackled in a huge hug.

“I’m here, little pumpkin. Did you have a good day?”

“The best!” Trixie trilled. “We did painting, and running, and I played dolls with Kimmy and Pearl showed me how to draw hearts!”

Ever-suffering, her preschool teacher was stood by the door to the classroom, her gaze tired but still warm as her last student clung to her mom. It wasn’t too often that Sharon was last to pick up her little girl, but it happened enough that she knew to just sit Trixie down with some colouring and leave her to it. Today, the grief had slowed Sharon down, and she was behind on most of her maintenance.

“Sounds fun! Now, are we walking out of here or is mama carrying you all the way home?”

Trixie took a moment to think about it, before smushing her face into Sharon’s neck. “Mama carries me home.”

Sharon sighed, figuring that she needed to keep Trixie happy if she was going to deliver such bad news. “Okay, just this once. Say bye bye, now!”

“Bye bye, Miss Coulée!”

Just Sharon’s luck, the walk was roughly long enough for them to discuss the subject. She was careful not to let her own emotions influence Trixie’s too much, knowing that a sobbing little girl would be much harder to console when she herself wanted nothing more than to break down in someone’s arms. Curious and a little confused, she asked a few questions which Sharon tried her best to answer, all while avoiding the term “Heaven”. It felt like she’d done an okay job, all things considered, but the fact that she had to do it alone meant she was more than nervous. This wasn’t going to traumatise her into therapy as an adult... she hoped.

“Will she miss me?”

Fuck, this kid was tugging at every single one of Sharon’s heartstrings. It didn’t seem possible that she had been the one to give life to something so goddamn cute.

“Nana Pat? I’m sure she will miss you, baby. And we’ll miss her, too.” Sharon took a deep breath. “But she’s still with us, isn’t she? Because we remember her, and we always have our memories.”

Trixie nodded thoughtfully. She had begged and begged to sit on Sharon’s shoulders, so now she idly played with loose strands of her hair, the messy bun practically ruined from the day’s work anyway.

“But she won’t come back because she’s too old.”

The child-like ability to make the most innocent and heartbreaking of things funny was one that Sharon hoped Trixie held onto forever. Even with her own heavy sadness, she giggled slightly.

“That’s right, bubba.”

A pause. “Are you sad, mama?”

Sharon nodded infinitesimally, trying not to trigger her tears. “Lots of people will be sad. When we go to the funeral on Saturday, there will be lots of sad people wearing black who all love Nana Pat very much. Will you promise me to be a really good girl and just sit quietly with me? We don’t want to disturb anyone.”

Trixie leaned forwards, pressing her lips to the top of Sharon’s head in an awkward, well-meaning kiss. “I’ll be good.”

---

She was golden. Sharon had done all her crying in the morning, before Trixie scrambled into her bed, and she was relieved at how easily her toddler had gone along with everything. Getting herself dressed had been a breeze; she even tried brushing her own hair, which was unsuccessful but nevertheless touching. Trixie then scampered off to play whilst Sharon got ready, giving her a few more moments alone.

Smoothing down her skirt, she examined herself in the mirror. An uncomfortable possibility had dawned on her that night, as she tried to sleep, and it made her unbelievably nervous. After all, he was her great-nephew...

She didn’t look that different than the day they met, surely? But yet, staring at herself, Sharon started realizing how little she resembled that girl already. Only four years had passed, near enough, and at twenty one and a mom, there was almost nothing to anchor this version of herself to the similarly-burdened yet unrealistically carefree seventeen-year-old that Willam had known.

Her hips were wider now, one of the few permanent modifications that Trixie had given her, and for all her low income meant a reduced diet, there was still the remains of a post-baby pouch that stubbornly remained. Black dresses were slimming, Sharon reminded herself, not that the rest of her needed it, but she hoped it was enough that if Willam did see her, he wouldn’t notice anything different.

That being said, he was a man. The little things didn’t matter. The living, squirming three-year-old, however...

Sharon sighed and relaxed, not bothering to try and suck in her stomach like she had before. Willam definitely wouldn’t notice it, he’d be too busy staring at Trixie. The human that he might’ve helped her create. That she had opted not to tell him about. Even though she had an easy way to do so via his now deceased great-aunt.

Fuck.

They made their way up to the little old chapel on the island in good time. Pat knew and loved her home more than anything, so relatives had been flocking from around the world to a tiny chapel on a tiny island out in Greece. It was a difficult walk, and with every step Sharon had to face that she really was in this alone now.

Not wanting to intrude in spite of her invite, Sharon slipped into a pew at the back and bowed her head, clutching Trixie in her lap as more of a comfort than anything else. Thankfully, as more and more people filed in, Trixie seemed to sense that her mama was upset, and quietly played with her flamingo teddy.

He was one of the last to walk in, of course - he would have to make an entrance. Swaggering in, his expression mostly calm, and his sheer confidence was highly inappropriate for a funeral and god if Sharon didn’t sound like her fucking mother. He was young and hot and the swagger seemed to be a Belli thing, because no one paid him any attention. Somewhere, whether in heaven or in her coffin, Sharon knew Pat was cackling with laughter.

And, of course, he just had to speak too. Sharon lifted her head a tiny bit to watch him, trying to ensure his gaze didn’t flicker onto her.

“So many kind things have been said about my dear great aunt today, and whilst it has warmed my heart I’m here to undo it all.” Willam started, filling the room with soft laughter. “Rest in peace, Granny Pat. You were old as fuck, but we’ll miss your rottenness. She had an ego bigger than mine and a liver bigger than Dad’s, and she was the life of the party. We love you, Pat.”

Everything about him was so familiar. Sharon tried not to think about it, but her mind was flooded with him. He didn’t look different at all, but she supposed LA had treated him well. Tanned and charming as ever, he seemed to woo his family as easily as he had seduced her into bed with him... or at least, that was how Sharon chose to remember it.

This was going to be a long day.

---

In all honesty, Sharon didn’t go out much anymore. It came with the territory of being a full-time parent and hotel owner-manager-chef-bartender-maid, but she was tired almost all the time. When Raja and Jinkx came over she made exceptions, but on a day-to-day basis, once Trixie was in bed, Sharon was exhausted from exerting herself to make sure she could even be finished and home in time for Trixie’s bedtime story. So, being out in the taverna in the late evening?

Unbearable.

As soon as everyone came in, Maria offered to take Trixie and keep her entertained behind the bar - which probably wasn’t the most responsible choice Sharon had made as a mom, but she knew Maria would take good care of her as she always did, and insisted she needed to mingle.

Mingling was the last thing on her mind, but she reluctantly grabbed a drink and tried to remain casual in a room full of strangers. After all, none of them knew who she was. None of them knew what Pat meant to her, and everything the daft old woman had done for her. None of them knew that without Pat, it was likely that her beloved daughter would’ve been given up for adoption and Sharon would’ve had to return home to her mother with her tail between her legs. Pat had made it possible for her to live, and as rough as it was, it was nice to be self-sufficient at twenty one.

“Hey! I thought it was you! Hi blondie!”

Sharon clutched her glass a little tighter and turned around slowly. “Forgot my name already?”

There he was, right next to her, having made his way across the room with bright eyes and a shiny grin. LA really had treated him well.

“You’re unforgettable, Sharon, don’t play me like that.” Willam teased. “Good to see you again. I knew goodbye wouldn’t last forever.”

Sharon scowled, but it didn’t last. “Hence why I said we wouldn’t have one.”

“Good point.” He gestured to her glass. “Vodka?”

She shook her head. “Just coke.”

“Pffft. Boring. Pat would want you to have some vodka. Or gin. Or both.”

Rolling her eyes, Sharon took a sip from her decidedly non-alcoholic drink. “I have responsibilities to take care of, I can’t just get drunk.”

As she spoke, her gaze went searching through the throng of people, praying Trixie wasn’t about to run over and squeeze her legs in a damning cuddle. To her relief, she was that she was balanced on Maria’s hip, happily giggling away with her out of Willam’s eyeline.

“We’re twenty one, Shar, and you haven’t seen me forever. Live a little!” Willam encouraged. “Seriously though, it’s good to see you. I didn’t know if you would still be here or if you still saw Pat around. It’s nice to see a face that I know she’d be happy to see, too. She hated most of the people here.”

God, the past tense. Sharon tried not to well up.

“You’re the only face here I know.” She admitted, her voice thick. “I feel a bit lost, honestly. If I didn’t have work, I’d be doing shots to loosen up.”

Willam laughed at that. “Right! I’m glad you know my face, at least. Familiar face, familiar arms, familiar chest, familiar d-”

“Stop!” Sharon shrieked, giggling in spite of herself. “Your great aunt has just died and you’re talking about our teenage sex? You’re disgusting.”

He shrugged. “I’m a Belli, it runs in the family. All this nonsense about her living to a ripe old age... please. She wasn’t ripe, she was rotten. It’s why we love her so.”

Sharon chuckled appreciatively. “I’m gonna miss her.”

“Me too. She’d be glad to see us brought back together, though.”

“Yeah. Although I’m not gonna sleep with you again.”

Willam’s laugh was a little too loud, attracting some disgruntled murmurs from surrounding family members. “Welp, there goes my weekend plans.”

It was surprisingly nice, talking to Willam. As much as Sharon had been terrified that the first topic of conversation would be them, and it would inevitably lead to a confession, they fell into a fleeting friendship as easily as they had four years ago. Determined to keep things light, Sharon steered away from her work or home life as they talked, but it was still nice to catch up.

That being said, she also kinda never wanted to see him again. Nothing personal, just... for Trixie’s sake, she had closed that chapter of her life and under no circumstances would she be reopening it. Not now, not in twenty years, not ever.

“I assume you’re breaking into stardom in Hollywood, right? I’ll be seeing you on movie posters?” 

He laughed. “A star is born, baby. Keep your eyes open. And you, are you taking to the stage now you’re away from your bitch of a mom?”

Sharon shook her head. “Nah. I don’t... I don’t have time anymore. And with the girls gone, too...”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t need them. And we should sing together again sometime, too.”

At that, Sharon sighed. “There’s nothing keeping you here, Willam, not now she’s gone. We had fun, but... there’s no point holding onto that. I got over my exes, I have to keep living and so do you.”

Willam nodded. “A goodbye without a goodbye. I get it. It’s difficult, but we have to let go.”

Yeah, Sharon told herself. In more ways than one.

“It’s not a personal thing, you know I care about you as a friend-”

“I know.” Willam told her. “I care about you too. But I get it.”

He pulled her into a hug. “Needles, take care of yourself. You’re skinny, take advantage of the free food. Fall in love. Make music. Do things to make you happy. You deserve that.”

Speechless, Sharon could only nod as he held her. “I can tell you’re ready to leave, so I’ll say goodbye now. You’re a one of a kind, okay? Keep going, angel thighs.”

Pfft. The old parody nickname - trust Willam to remember that.

“Thank you, Willam.”

---

Trixie was fast asleep in Sharon’s arms. Her warm weight had settled comfortably into her as she walked home, and Sharon relished in the way her sweet daughter could fill her aching heart so perfectly. Her blonde curls were messy, just like her own were as a child, and she was completely tuckered out.

Her adorable girl had little outfits, a bedroom of her own and a roof over her head all thanks to the love and kindness of one foul-mouthed, gin-loving lady. As the sun started setting, Sharon realized she owed another Belli a lifetime of gratitude.

“Thank you, Pat.”

[yourboyfriendaizawa]

god, i love ur kitsune au so much.... can i request another installment please? /.\ maybe it had been a while since the reader visited, so aizawa gets worried?

I’m sorry this took so long to come out but I’m putting my head in my goddamn hands bc this was supposed to be a short little drabble and it turned out to be over 2,600 words long. Literally the longest thing I’ve written for this blog so far by almost 500 words. I can’t believe this.

Anyway. This is an AU where Aizawa is a kitsune the reader met on a mountain. All the backstory is written in so if you’re unfamiliar no worries.

It had been weeks since you’d visited the shrine you had built up on the mountain trail for Aizawa. In fact, from what he could gather, you hadn’t been seen on the mountain at all for almost a month now, and Aizawa was getting just a little worried.

The two of you had become close in the year since you’d first gotten lost on your way to visit one of the major shrines. He’d been surprised at first, when Hizashi had come to him a few weeks after the incident to tell him that there was a human who frequented the shine and had recently began ending all their prayers with a thanks to a certain black haired fox that had helped them down the mountain that fateful night. Not long after, Hizashi tricked him into meeting with you again so you could thank him yourself. He had insisted it was only because it was his job to make assist in fulfilling the wishes of the shine’s worshipers if possible, but Aizawa had a hunch it was to get him to take more interest in interacting with humans. Ironically, that’s exactly what had happened. After the first meeting, you had asked if you would see him again the next time you visited, and to everyone’s surprise (even his own,) he had told you he would be if you wanted him to.

Ever since, the two of you had seen each other on an almost weekly basis, and he’d grown fond of your company. At some point, you had revealed that you knew he was a kitsune, and although he had known this, now that you had said it out loud he no longer felt the need to dodge your questions about who he was and found it to be a relief that he could share himself with you. He enjoyed your reactions as he told you about the monsters and spirits he dealt with in order to keep the mountain safe, enjoyed hearing you describe your own life beyond the mountain where he had not traveled in years, and secretly enjoyed the feeling of your fingers gently working their way through his hair as he rested beside you while you sat quietly propped against a tree, either reading or sketching or simply enjoying the peaceful forest around you.

When you’d failed to show up one week, he had hardly thought about it, chalking it up to being busy with something, perhaps familial obligations or work, and assumed he would see you the week after. When you didn’t show up that week either, he found it strange, wracking his brain to see if he could remember you mentioning going on some sort of trip or vacation. After the third week without seeing you, Aizawa began getting antsy, asking the other kitsune on the mountain to keep an eye out for you. Now, after almost four weeks and still no sign of you, he was admittedly worried. He didn’t think you someone to just disappear without a word. There had to be a reason for your absence, and Aizawa was afraid of what that reason could be.

‘Aizawa’. Toshinori’s voice addressed him from the ground below the branch Aizawa had been lounging on, ‘I believe I have news of your human.’ Aizawa’s ears twitched at Toshinori’s choice of words, but said nothing about it, instead turning his gaze toward the ground to encourage Toshinori to continue. At the moment, Toshinori was wearing his in his fox form, his golden fur shining bright in the dappled patches of sun that shone between the leaves, ‘A woman came to my shrine today, praying for the swift recovery of their child. I saw their face in her mind.’

Aizawa’s heart skipped a beat, “Recovery? From what?”

Toshinori shook his head, ‘I don’t know for sure, but I believe it to be an injury. The woman seemed distraught, but she wasn’t begging for her child’s life, so I assume it isn’t anything life threatening.’

There was solace in those words at least, but still Aizawa was concerned. If it was bad enough to keep you away for so long, it must have been serious.”Will you tell me if the woman comes back?”

‘Of course.’ he replied.

Luckily, less than another week passed before Toshinori notified Aizawa the woman had returned, and without having been asked directed Aizawa in the direction he could find her. Aizawa had thanked him quickly, then set off quickly to find her.

—

Aizawa found your mother relatively quickly, he had noticed her scent just minutes after setting off. She smelled an awful lot like you, and he was well adjusted to tracking down your scent by now. He did not approach her, however, but rather followed her from a distance as she emerged from the forest to make her way back into town. He knew it would appear more than strange for him to simply walk up to a woman he had never met and ask about her injured child, so he reasoned with himself that the best solution to find out what had happened to you was to follow her home and see for himself. (Ok, so it sounded just as weird, but it was all he could come up with.) He did however take the time to don a light glamor to hide any traits that might make him stand out among the humans, his fox-like features fading away as he stepped into civilization for the first time in a long while.

Since you had told him a number of times that you always walked to meet him, he assumed you lived rather close to the entrance to the mountain trail, and it turned out he was right. It only took about fifteen minutes or so for your mother to turn into an urban neighborhood, and only a handful more before she approached a building where he assumed you lived.

Now that he had found where you were he released his glamour completely, reverting into his natural fox form, and hide in the brush nearby until night had long since fallen and the widows were dark, signaling the occupants had likely gone to bed before inspecting further. The last thing he wanted was to draw any sort of attention to himself. During this time, he wondered if you would be upset with him for the lengths he was going to check up on you. He knew it would have been weird for a stranger to do all of these things, but he was a friend, right? And he had no other way of contacting you. He didn’t have one of those cell phones you were always carrying around, and even if he did it wasn’t like they had service on the mountain anyway. This was all he could think of.

Regardless, when he was satisfied the noise inside had quieted, he emerged from the bush he had been curled up under, transforming from fox to human mid-stride and approached the front door. He used a claw to carefully flip the lock, absently hoping you wouldn’t be upset by that, and slipped inside.

Instantly, he knew he was in the right place, he could clearly smell your scent hanging in the air, warm and familiar. He let it lead him through the darkness until he came to a door he was certain you were behind, and he gently began turning the knob as quietly as he could, before entering.

And then he saw you, and he felt felt equal parts joy and sadness spread through him, both a surprise in their intensity.

Joy, because there you were, laying in bed safe and relatively sound, and sadness because he could very clearly see your leg propped up on top of three pillows and encased from the knee down in a white cast.

Also, you had clearly not been asleep as he had previously thought because you were currently sitting up and looking straight at him with eyes wide in surprise. “Shouta?” you almost whispered, and his heart warmed at the sound of your voice, “Why–How did you find– come in before someone sees you!”

Aizawa did as you asked, stepping inside and quietly shutting the door behind him. When he turned back to face you, the shock had mostly worn off, and now you were looking at him with an expression that fell somewhere between confusion and awe. “How did you find me?”

“Your mother has started frequenting Toshinori’s shrine to pray for your recovery.” He started, and you gestured for him to come closer to the bed where you were laid.

“Are your friends this lousy at keeping everyone's’ secrets, or just  ones that relate to me?” You asked him with a wry smile.

Aizawa gave a small shrug. “It doesn’t say anywhere that your prayers are kept secret. And I was the one who asked everyone to keep tabs. I was worried when I hadn’t seen you around for a while.” He said, surprising you both with his honestly. “What happened to you?”

You grimaced, but quickly tried to cover it up with a smirk as you told him, “I fell off a ladder, if you can believe it. Broke all three bones in my right ankle.” You laughed, trying to pass it off as if it were a joke, but he could tell by the way it sounded that you didn’t find it amusing. Neither did he. “The stupid hospital even set it wrong, twice, so that by the the time a surgeon got the chance to look at me, my ankle was so messed up I had to have two surgeries to correct it. I just had the second one a few days ago.” Aizawa could see the shine of tears in your eyes as you continued, and a pang of sadness gripped his chest, “I’m full of metal pins and rods now, and probably will be for the rest of forever. Not to mention the scars. And on top of all that I have to keep my leg elevated above my heart twenty three hours a day to keep the swelling from making things worse. I’m only allowed up to pee.”

You looked up at him then, and must have seen something on your face because you quickly tried to smile again, and said, “It could be worse though! I’m really lucky I didn’t hit my head or anything on the way down. And My surgeon was really good. He says I’m healing just the way I should be– or at the very least as quickly as I can given how bad the emergency room screwed me up. And my mom has been taking care of me while I can’t take care of myself.”

Despite your words, a tear escaped the corner of your eye when you blinked. Automatically, Aizawa’s hand came up to brush it away. “I’m sorry.” He said, unsure of how to comfort you.

“I’m sorry too, for making you worry. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t think of how to.” You said, bringing your own hand up to grasp his gently. “I’m glad you’re here though. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He told you in earnest, “I’m glad you aren’t mad at me for stalking your mother and breaking into your home.”

You laughed, and a small smile graced his lips at the sound. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze in response. “I might have been, if it were anyone else. But since it’s you, you’re forgiven.” You said, before your smile faded and a create fell between your eyebrows, your eyes dropping to your lap. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see you again though. I won’t be walking independently for a while, and even then the doctor says I probably won’t be back to normal for at least six months.”

“I’ll visit you here then.” he said, matter-of-factly. Your eyes snapped back up to his in shock, and he almost smiled again. “It wasn’t especially hard to get here.”

“You can do that? I thought you didn’t like to leave the mountain.” You told him.

Aizawa shrugged. “I never really had a reason to leave before. Now I do.” He said simply.

Your eyes began to water again, only this time you were smiling. “Thank you.”

“I should leave you now though, it’s late, and you clearly need to rest.” He said, attempting to release your hand, though you only gripped it harder.

“No, please, I’ve been so lonely, and I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You said in a rush, eyes wide and desperate. “Will you stay, just for a little while longer?”

He would never tell you, but with the way you were looking at him in the moment, he didn’t think he could deny you anything, no matter what it was you asked of him. You looked so tired and fragile, clinging to his hand as though it were a lifeline, there wasn’t any way he could tell you no. Instead, he placed his other hand on your shoulder, pushing gently as he said, “Scoot.”

You quickly obeyed, struggling only slightly with your cumbersome leg, making space for him. When there was sufficient room for him on the bed, he sat down next to you and said, “I’ll stay, but only if you promise to sleep soon.”

The smile you gave him in response was so warm and full of appreciation it made his heart thump in his chest. “Thank you.” You said, squeezing his hand in both of yours, before he noticed you wince ever so slightly.

“Are you in pain?” He asked, looking down at your leg as though he could spot the source of your pain through the plaster.

“Yeah, I think it’s time for me to take another round of medication. Can you reach it for me?” You asked, pointing behind him. Aizawa looked over to see a plethora of of pill bottles on the side table. “I need the ones from the bottle with the pink cap and the one on the far left.” He picked up the ones you specified, handing them to you and watching you open each before shaking out four pills total into your hand. Then he exchanged the pill bottles with you for the glass of water. You threw all of them back in one go, swallowing them in a big gulp. Your face scrunched up in disgust as you said, “Gross. Thanks.”

“Of course,” He replied, watching you pull up your covers and then lean into his side.

“You’re going to get your wish” You said, pouting just slightly, “These are pretty strong, I’ll probably be out in ten minutes tops.”

Aizawa huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh and said, “That’s a good thing. You need to rest.”

You made a face up at him, but then a small smile slid onto your features again as you said, “Thank you for breaking into my house, and thank you for staying with me. Seriously.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” He replied as your head came to rest on his shoulder. “Don’t go making a habit of hurting yourself just to get me to stay over though.”

You hummed in response but said nothing more, and it wasn’t long until he felt you press into him further, your breath coming out slow and even. Aizawa realized that at this point he could probably slip out unnoticed, the medicine you had taken would probably keep you asleep as he moved you, but he found he wasn’t ready to leave you just yet. He’d just found you after a month of worrying, after all.

He leaned down just enough to press his lips gently to the crown of your head, and told himself, Staying a little longer can’t hurt.

---

(A/N: the injury the reader went through in this is actually word for word what happened to me in june of this year. I broke the heck out of my ankle falling off a ladder and the ER really did set it so poorly the surgeon was actually upset the first time he looked at me and I really did have to be in bed for almost a month and a half. It’s been a wild ride, but I’m almost back to walking without limp now so it’s all good!

[kxias]

...so, yeah, don’t rlly know how the fuck i got accepted to be quite honest w you??? like that definitely sounded fake but yet here we are??? anyways, hi, i’m red (she/her pronouns please) i’m 19 and i live in the est timezone and i am so, so excited about this roleplay — like i said, highkey was not expecting to get accepted so it certainly came as a shock when i refreshed the main before leaving to grab dinner and saw my post? i’ve been dying to put this muse of mine into play for a month or so now but i really haven’t been able to find a group that i was Down for up until i saw this one ! i am a heaux for uni rps, an even bigger one for the greek life rps since i in a million years would never be able to join greek life (yay introvert!!) and while i wasn’t here first time around, i’m happy to be here now and writing w all you lovely people ; i’m working on getting her stats and wanted connections up so pls bear with me, classes started back today and i’m trying to sift thru all the junk of my online courses while attempting to enjoy my last moments of freedom but they’ll be up soon ! in the meantime, there’s a bit beneath the cut about my baby angel and a few ideas to tide you over, make the heart go red and i’ll pop in your ims for plots ! and yes, i do ramble like this all the time so Get Ready !!

tw: death, slight depression, mentions of verbal/emotional abuse

have you read the gossip blog lately ? apparently, a GIGI HADID lookalike was seen strolling across campus with their DANCE textbook. but nah, that’s just KAIA ZAMAN, the TWENTY year old JUNIOR, i’m sure you know HER. they’re mostly known as THE SANGUINE because they’re very SILVER-TONGUED and INTREPID but also RETICENT and GUILELESS.

so kaia was born and raised in chicago, illinois, the only child her parents ever had due to a few factors — one of which being that it was incredibly hard for her mother to carry a child + rushed into an emergency hysterectomy right after kaia’s birth, so she was their rainbow baby

her parents did everything in their power to make kaia as happy as they possibly could since she had been everything they’d wanted for so long, so whether it was letting her watch another cartoon before bed or enrolling her in dance classes at the age of three after a full-fledged obsession with the nutcracker reached its pique, they pretty much granted her any wish she could’ve possibly had

at age four, a few nights after christmas, kaia and her parents were on their way home from dinner, taking a road that was pretty notorious for collecting black ice in the winter and got into a really bad accident, and this cost her both of her parents

so in her father’s will + due to a lack of any other eligible family members, kaia was left in the custody of her uncle ( dad’s younger brother ) and it was...disastrous, to say the least; daniel had pretty much resigned to a life of forever being a bachelor and fucking around and now he had a four year old niece that he was expected to raise???

her uncle was a trashbag with a few shreds of decency (driven by guilt) in him — he wasn’t going to dump her into the foster system but he sure as hell didn’t want anything to do with her ! so in true trashbag fashion, he just decided to completely neglect her, pretend like she wasn’t there and hope she’d get the hint, and it took her a while to figure this out?? kaia was a sweet kid who went from having a shit ton of affection and love to being ignored and treated like she was a nuisance, and it fucked w her head at four years old

she wound up raising herself; all her uncle was good for was giving her a place to live, making sure she had clothes on her back and food in her stomach, and putting on an act when people gave a second glance their way. the only time he really wanted anything to do with her was when he could benefit her somehow, like keep one of his girlfriends around ( they all found kaia adorable and daniel ‘admirable’ for stepping up ) or when it came to the $$, her parents had left her a little but daniel pretty much absorbed it and took it for himself, to throw more parties or buy booze or play sugar daddy to one of his hookups?? like i said, trashbag

kaia and her uncle were roommates at best, and that was pushing it — she struggled a lot with the neglect internally, and her way of coping was to push it down, push it down, suppress with a smiling face and act like all was well. daniel was enough of a decent person to let her continue with the dance lessons which she absolutely adored, dance was her Everything, and by the time she hit high school, she started teaching classes at the studio she learned at in order to make some $$ that daniel wouldn’t take for his own

the older she got, the more she’d fight back a little against daniel and they had their fair share of fights ( which usually ended in daniel saying something to shut her down entirely and she’d scramble away ) but even despite that, sHE NEVER GAVE UP HOPE ON HIM...?? like, kaia always gave him the benefit of the doubt even though he’d proved himself time and time again thAT HE DIDN’T DESERVE IT

to her it was v black and white, she didn’t understand why tf he wouldn’t just get over himself and be a Family ( daniel is Where she gets her stubbornness tbh ) but despite having a little resent towards him, kaia never ever stopped hoping that he’d wake up one day and they’d start being a family and she still hasn’t bc optimist in the highest degree

when it came to college, kaia knew if she didn’t get out of chicago she was literally going to be sick, there was just smth about the loneliness there that made her skin crawl ( she also hates the winter now so she had to get as far away from snow as possible lmao ) and so she was like “alright i need a college on the west coast and w my dance major”, found crawford, and it was Settled

you ain’t getting my gossip blog secret out of me *wink*

anyways, now that the tragic backstory has been #unlocked...onto kaia

she’s the sanguine, which basically means bitch is a ball of sunshine, which she is — there’s no such thing as a stranger in her world, she likes constantly being surrounded by people ( bc she gotta make up for being lonely all those childhood years, thanks a ton dAN ) and making new friends and going out, she just loves people and people usually love her, she knows how to reel them in and keep them by her side, girlie will do Anything

she flat-out refuses to see the bad in people, even if it is staring her in the face, and this is where her stubborn nature comes in to play?? you can’t tell her anything, once her mind is set on something there is no hope of ever talking her out of it, she’s got to come to her senses on her own and even then it’s usually too late or she diminishes the impact of it?? she’s rash and got bad tunnel vision so it’s p clear where disaster lies w her

has the unhealthiest coping mechanisms on the history of the planet, tbh; she thinks the cure to everything is putting a smile on and acting like it’s not a problem and while that works when one fails a test, it doesn’t work w everything and she’s just forced so much pain and depression and anger down that it is Bound to come right back up at some point, so basically homegirl is a ticking time bomb

kaia’s also a people pleaser, she’d literally give you a kidney if you asked, which makes it easy for people to manipulate her?? and she doesn’t always see when she’s being manipulated either?? and won’t always stand up for herself when she’s being treated unfairly??? she just likes keeping the peace if at all possible

blurs the line a lot between doing things because she can and doing things because she feels an obligation to so she doesn’t let anyone down

ever since her parents died, she doesn’t like to give anything a second-guess — if she wants to do something, then she’s doing it, because it may not come back around again or she may not have the chance to. is the Definition of living in the moment, which is nice in theory, but kaia is v bad at compartmentalizing so it’s easy for her to get off track or ofc do things that will come back to bite her

dance is life, i’m not even gonna go into detail on it bc this is long enough already and like.....it’s just her whole world, ok, moving along

she wants everyone to let her in but she very rarely returns the favor, which is why i gave her the reticent trait?? she doesn’t tell people about her parents or her uncle, doesn’t let people see that iceberg of emotions underneath the surface, she acts like if it doesn’t exist then it doesn’t as far as anyone’s concerned???

girl is one of the greatest friends you could ever have but is a piece of work when you think about it, tbh, so that being said come love us !

and if you read this far: the reason this STUPID vine is my ooc tag is bc i have an ex named kyle who is a piece of trash and that vine is a p accurate description of how i feel about him.....plus it just makes me laugh ok going now

[ragnarssons]

Am I the only one who believe that the 5 years time jump won't happen? Their calculations are always wrong. It doesn't fit the narrative. The show'd lose the momentum. Ik some fans are excited bc they think it's painful but it's not even good angst. That would ruin BC. It's not romantic and we wouldn't get an iconic reunion. 5 years is not the same as 3 months. I know it's a theory taken as canon because the script mentions something like that but analyzing the show I can't see that happening.

No you’re not the only one. I know that I’ve made a post about that already and a lot of people reblogged it because, yes, in my mind, it would change a lot of things. Let’s remind us that so far, the show’s timeline is no longer than a year. I mean, as I said, look at Arrow; yes, we’ve never had a “before island” season, but Oliver changed A LOT in five years, and it changed EVER SINGLE ONE of his relationships, he literally changed himself as a person. I know, we can still tell he’s been through some shit and all… but tell me that on The 100, the characters wouldn’t go through shit for FIVE WHOLE YEARS? Yeah, no, not happening. So there are plenty of materials allowing the writers to completely change the narrative of their show, and the relationships that much that they wouldn’t mean anything we know, anymore. And yes, in my mind, that includes Bellarke. I don’t care if, at the end of the journey, they find each other again or anything like that, I LOVE their relationship as it is today, and I don’t want it to change because out of nowhere, the writers would separate them for a wayyyyyy longer time that they’ve been together through these four seasons. And don’t get me started like “Clarke would at least, have the time to move on” la-di-da, she already did, with Niylah, when she sought confort with her. And honestly, let’s bring back the show to what it is, CL lasted for two weeks tops, you don’t need five years to go over that. Anywayyyy, so far in the narrative, nothing indicates that ANYTHING written on the scripts will happen, honestly. Why would they go to space? To escape the radiation? They already have a bunker and the rocket they have, has no fuel! To create Nightblood? Apparently Clarke is ALREADY a Nightblood, without them having to go to space, all they need is to duplicate the thing and that’s it. What else?? Because eight more people in a rocket would make THAT BIG of a difference compared to the 1200 spots in the bunker?? And don’t get me go again about the science of it all, five years will NEVER be enough to come back because the radiations levels dropped or something. That’s physically IMPOSSIBLE and I’d just roll my eyes so hard, honestly. Idk, maybe it seems like JRoth and the writers aren’t ready to accept the fact that once these characters go into their bunker, it’s FOREVER, for the rest of their lives, the rest of the show. They’d need a 200 years time-jump if they want to allow the characters to go outside again. So what? Will half of the characters be dead of old age without any background because of a dumb time jump we’d never see on screen? LOL. Honestly… I’ve seen people say that the scripts aren’t what’s happening in the finale, people who say they have sources and all. Up until now, I’m ready to believe them over these theories. For example, Marie in an interview, mentionned Octavia and the fact that she would find something else because going to space = prison, to her. And that was around the time the script was “leaked”: yet, the writers didn’t say shit, there was nothing about that, and so far in the show (and at least up till ep10) there is no mention of the characters going to space. Meaning that Marie would have “accidently” dropped a HUGE spoiler about the very end of the season, just like that? Umm allow me to be skeptical, actors are supposed to know best. And I mean, if they pull another solution, another rocket, another stack of fuel out of their asses in the last three episodes of the season, I’m gonna lose my mind over this dumbfest. I can’t believe they would do that… I hope they won’t. As I said, in my mind, they totally shitted on their narrative with the three months time jump between s2 and s3. Yes, at the time it seemed like a great idea, but on the follow-up on s3? There was nothing. No evolution of the characters, no evolution of the relationships, no exploration of any change, and even no real background to the Grounders/Sky People “peace treaty” they were about to sign. Just some “explanations” from JRoth on twitter, and shit on screen and that led to what it led us. People unable to understand the main male character because his scenes were cut off and it was NEVER explained how the Grounders were using the Sky People without allowing them to live on their own. It was NEVER explained how he felt about Clarke being out there, alone, vulnerable. I mean?? No joke, on this show, they’re mostly really bad at exploring characters and relationships; look at the “love stories” that last nothing more than a few weeks and the writers are like “it’s loooooove, it’s the love of X’s lifeeeee”… I mean, no offense to John Murphy, but how does he fall IN LOVE with a girl in three days? It’s Murphy ffs, and yet at comic con, so like… three episodes after Emori was introduced?- JRoth talked about Memori as the greatest love story of Murphy’s life. Wth. Don’t get me wrong, on s3 it was the same thing about Abby and Clarke, and obvis, about Bellamy and Octavia. Maybe they should allow their characters to catch a break between two seasons, before creating dumb time jumps, idk. Five years would definetely be the dumbest of them all… *sigh*

[hey-kids-want-some-avengers]

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,28,29,30,31,32,33,34,35,36,37,38,39,40,41,42,43,44,45,46,47,48,49,50,51,52,53,54,55,56,57,58,59,60,61,62,63,64,65,66,67,68,69,70,71,72,73,74,75,76,77,78,79,80,81,82,83,84,85,86,87,88,89,90,91,92,93,94,95,96,97,98,99,100 (lol, I'm sorry)

Holy mother of- alright, I did this to myself. Answers are below the cut!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More cereal! I’m hella lactose intolerant so I rarely even have milk.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Sometimes, it depends if I was already too cold or not.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Usually I use drawings or a bit of cardboard.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? I take my tea with a little honey and my coffee with lots of flavored creamer.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? VERY MUCH YES

6: do you keep plants? Cacti mostly:)

7: do you name your plants? YEP

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Pencil or acrylic, though I’m digging clay now.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? I spend almost every hour of every day singing, it’s one of my absolute favorite things!

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? back or side depending on how my jaw is doing.

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? OH GoD, so many...

12: what's your favorite planet? Mars >3

13: what's something that made you smile today? I got to spend all day with my pupper AND I got called for an interview tomorrow.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Brick walls, lots of floor space for art, ect. a window seat, high ceilings and a cozy atmosphere please and thank you.

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! 99% of our solar systems mass is the sun. :3

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Baked Penne!

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? It’s already blue but I wanna do it red, orange and yellow at some point for a crazy fire look.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. The time I jumped off the lid to my friends hot tub and hit my head, knocking myself unconscious and almost dying.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? Kinda, it’s mostly art and random facts??

20: what's your favorite eye color? Blue

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. My art bag that looks like a freaking paint towel at this point.

22: are you a morning person? Ye!

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Write, draw, take a bath and bake.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Yes, my bestfren Chloe -w-

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? An abandoned house down the block while chasing a cat. There was some guy sleeping in there.

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? My red Converse!

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Wintergreen

28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset, for sure.

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? She blushes in her ears and gets really shy around guys.

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Umm, yes. When my mom had emergency surgery.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. OKAY, I LIKE SOCKS, I WEAR EM ALL THE TIME AND THEY NEVER MATCH. BOOM.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. I went to down my iced tea and found out too late that it was my dads whiskey and I got drunk off my ass.

33: what's your fave pastry? oooh, I love pastries with all my heart, probably lemon bars.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? It’s in my room somewhere, a little weasel puppet named “wonder weasel” and I made him a mask.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? Yes, I keep at least one on me at all times.

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? Panic!

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I reaaaaally like it clean but it never happens. I’m a pig.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! I hate when people never show up on time, ignore me when I’m talking to check their phones and I hate when people pretend to like me.

39: what color do you wear the most? Black

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? It’s a bumble bee necklace my sister got me and I love it.

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? The book thief.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! It’s a local place here and they make really pretty pastries and coffee, it’s very modern inside but it’s cozy and everyone’s super nice. It smells like autumn leaves and spices.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? myself???

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Last week in a bath tbh

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yes and no? It kinda depends but I usually second guess myself.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. I changed my ipods name to titanic. It’s syncing now. (I hate myself)

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? LETTUCE

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Burning alive, and it kinda is kinda isn’t still.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I like to but I never have money, the last one was a panic! at the disco cd.

50: what's an odd thing you collect? Fish????? I have five tanks in my room ok????

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Can’t help falling in love with you and phantom of the opera (my gf) IM CHEESEY

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? THEY ALL SUCK

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? I’ve seen all but pulp fiction and I adore them all, beetlejuice is one of my favorite movies.

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? Besides myself idk

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? I don’t even know honestly.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Their sense of humor, laugh and comfortableness.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? Doesn’t it always?!

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? My friend hates wine but is totally the wine mom, sooo that makes me the vodka aunt bc I only have one friend.

59: what's your favorite myth? Icarus

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? YES! I love the raven, tyger and the tell tale heart??

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? Socks for received I guess? Probably the dumbest thing I’ve given was a dirty shirt to my friend????

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Almost always, grape or orange usually. 

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I’m really particular about them and I don’t let anyone touch em.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Ink black.

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? My gf..; ;

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Seashells, blue flowers and tiny pink ones, probably a lil glitter.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? They feel relaxing to me.

68: what's winter like where you live? ITS LIKE A NEVER ENDING HELLL

69: what are your favorite board games? Fury of Dracula, d&d, ect.

70: have you ever used a ouija board? Yep! I own one.

71: what's your favorite kind of tea? cranberry??

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? YES. My ADHD is scary bad ok.

73: what are some of your worst habits? Not eating healthily/not drinking enough, secluding myself.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Humorous, kind and caring and wonderful and supporting. The most fantastic person to live.

75: tell us about your pets! OK!!!!!! I have three cats, a tabby (ponyo), a massive grey one(rory) and a smol floofy white and black one(lydia). I have four betta fish, Lafayette, Remus, Pietro, and Marvel. I have 12 guppy/platty and I could list their names but I wontttt, and my sweet pupper girl, Matilda

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Writing requests..............

77: pink or yellow lemonade? Pink.

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? HATE

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? My girlfriend sent me chocolates and my fren bought me a bee pillow, they’re pretty great.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Light purple and I didn’t choose them, my mom painted that room before she got sick so I kept it.

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Deep sand washing over dark beaches and charcoal mixed in a vat of dark clay.

82: are/were you good in school? No, not really. I listened tho

83: what's some of your favorite album art? Pretty odd, believers never die, infinity on high

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? I have two right now and I have MANY more planned.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? OF COURSE, CAPTAIN AMERICA AND DEADPOOL, SANDMAN EVEN THO THAT DON’T REALLY COUNT.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? um? Nirvana? Am I doing this right?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Perks of being a wall flower, three idiots.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? All of them??

89: are you close to your parents? I like to think so

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Ohhh um, I dunno, probably Denver?? I’m really isolated.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? I’m going to Denver for a concert and a huge road trip to California this summer to see my family.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? It GoN DRoWN SOn

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Down. It’s too short for anything.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My grandpa

95: what are your plans for this weekend? Hanging with my fren and watching shameless.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Sadly, I put them off until it does it automatically. I regret it every time.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Advocate, Taurus, hufflepuff! 

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? Yesterday and I loved it.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Hamilton tbh, think of me, riptide and I found.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Five years into the past because I’m not fucking ready to grow up.