#her little shimmy when she says it is adorable though. and both her sisters looking at her like ''...what the hell? No.''

[highlifeboat]

Billy and Sarah bonding over talking shit about Winnie🤣🤣

Also Winifred being so used to making decisions for her sisters, she legitimately believes Sarah wasn't capable to do it on her own accord :p

You know what my favourite thing about the whole affair is? The fact that, supposedly, Billy and Winnie shared one kiss. One kiss, when they were 16/17 years old, and Winnie just never let that shit go.

Then 40 years later she finds out that Sarah and Billy hooked up, and that Billy loves Sarah, and just cannot believe the audacity of this man. So she kills him.

And actually that's a valid point. Winnie believing Sarah doesn't have the capability to decide to go seduce Billy of her own accord. Clearly Billy must have taken some advantage of Sarah's naivety and their strange lust for men. I like to think she was still upset with Sarah, but never outright blamed her for it, and Sarah just never told her the truth.

They did feel kind of bad when Billy was killed, though.

[laiiaaa]

in need of more dad!carmy cause oml

him walkin in on the girls doing something they're not supposed to be doin :0 but ofc he can't manage to stay upset at them for long

He’s got the biggest soft spot in the world for his girls and he really can’t help it, especially when they’re young. They’re always up to something, usually because Rory’s a little shit (she takes after you) and Jack’s just trying to copy after her big sister.

You’re fast asleep one night when he’s wide awake. Just nerves, kinks in the road with The Bear, thoughts of Mikey’s birthday approaching, anxiety bubbling up that he doesn’t want to worry you with. So he heads downstairs to sit outside and clear his head with some fresh air—

Only to find Rory and Jack in the living room, on the floor, your sneaky bag of candy—the one reserved for you, that you pick at once the girls are off to bed and you’re cozied up on the couch with Carmen, chatting about your days between sweets—dispersed on the floor.

They don’t even notice his presence till he speaks up:

“What’s goin’ on here?”

They both look up, entirely spooked at their dad standing feet away.

“You two should be in bed.”

“But Dad,” Rory whines, “We don’t even have school tomorrow.” She puts on that pout she knows will have him cooing at her, and Jack follows right behind. “We were just looking, I promise.”

“Just lookin’, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“You know that’s your mother’s, right? That’s her candy you’re stealin’?”

Jack frowns, puts her big brown doe eyes to work. “Mommy lets us have some all the time.”

“Don’t lie t’me, Jacqueline.” One hand of his rests at his hip, the other swiping at his mouth as he fidgets. “You lyin’ t’me?”

He looks back and forth between his girls—his babies, really, because even though they’ve grown out of diapers and go to school on the weekdays, he still can’t fathom them as anything but his baby girls. So small, and so adorable, with tiny pouts and tiny hands and tiny giggles. They’re just so sweet.

“Not lyin’, Daddy.”

“She’s not,” Rory agrees. “Promise.”

He must be going soft. If Richie knew, he’d never hear the end of it, what with his heart going to mush at his girls, how he sees you in them both, how just a simple and meek little promise has his irritation going smooth and his lungs letting out a sigh before he cleans them up and carries them to bed—after they get one more piece of candy, of course, because who is he to deny them a little joy?

Carmen tells you the short of it by morning, limbs tangled together.

“You’re too easy on ‘em,” you giggle, “Such a softie. And they know it.”

“I’m not, y’know, soft, I’m just—”

“Bear, you let them get away with everything—”

“No I don’t—”

“If you say so,” you tease, letting the matter settle with your lips pressed sweetly against his, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you just a little closer. “It’s gonna come back ‘n bite you, though.”

“I’ll be alright, baby.” Another gentle trail of kisses, along your jaw, down to your neck, fading away at your collarbone. He’d kiss you all day if you’d let him.

“Hm.” Your nails scratch gently along his back, and you press your fingertips into the tender muscles of his back as he buries himself into your neck. “Are you making waffles today?”

A muffled groan escapes him, and he peeks up at you. “Thought you said you were doin’ breakfast today?”

You pout, and it looks awfully familiar to him. “Next weekend?”

“Next weekend, huh?”

“Promise.”

And oh, how the irony dawns on him, and oh, how little he cares. But why would he? How could he say no to you, or the girls you’ve brought into his life, when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him—when you love him like you do?

With a brief stretch and a deepened kiss with your hands in his hair, he lifts himself out of bed as you trail close behind, your touch a comfort unlike anything else. And when you shimmy into your seat at the counter, laughing with him over your cup of coffee, watching sweetly as he prepares breakfast before the girls scurry into the kitchen, he knows:

He wouldn’t change a thing.

[georgiapeach30513]

LOVE LUCY AND STORY TOGETHER!!!!! now now… can we please see baby lucifer terrorising the twins to complete the saga of lucy bullying her sibs 😈😈😈

Lucy was quite young when the twins still lived at home. Keep in mind there's a fourteen year difference. So their senior year she was only three. Still enough to torture them. In her way.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Be Nice to Your Sister

Summary: Lucy is a deviant

Pairings: Aster Drysdale X Lucy Drysdale, Iris Drysdale X Lucy Drysdale

Rating: 3 Lucy's

Warnings: Baby Lucifer/Little Lucifer/Morningstar, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 650

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Lucy Drysdale Masterlist

Lucy creeps around the house all the time. A girl that little, you would think couldn't move around so sneakily, but she does. And Lucy's favorite thing? Terrorizing her siblings. Ransom says it's the age gap, and she feels left out. You know she gets a thrill out of it though. Particularly with Aster and Story.

On this day, her eyes were set on Aster. The girl who was so against boys for so long, has a different boyfriend every month. The current one, Chase Collins and her had snuck into the theater room to "watch" a movie. Lucy's little body crawls into the theater room, and sees the two of them, in a very compromising position.

Leaving the room quickly she sets out on finding her daddy. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! DADDY!" her voice screaming throughout the estate, getting frustrated enough to scream a "RANSOM!"

"Don't you dare call me that," he says looking down at her, before he picks her up.

"Can we watch a movie?"

"Daddy's a little busy, baby Lucifer," she pouts at him. "I'm sorry, Lucy."

"Not that. I wanna watch a movie. Maybe...one show? Just one tiny little show?" Ransom looks back into his office, and then back at his fifth. "Just half a show. In the movie room."

"Fine. Let's go watch your little show," the closer they get he starts to hear the sound from the movie. "Looks like someone beat you, baby."

"They can leave."

Ransom is now curious as to who it is. Story is at dance. Blade at computer club, Iris is at tennis, and Aster is supposed to be at volleyball...that's not in season. "Quiet baby Lucifer," he slings that door open quickly and Aster and Chase sit up in shock. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Daddy...um...this is Chase," Aster's eyes look at Chase, and down to her school shirt that is undone, and both hers and Chase's ties off.

"Hi," he holds up his hand awkwardly, and gathers his things. "I should..."

"No. I'll take you home."

"I drove."

His eyes narrow at him. "Out," Chase runs past him, starting to say something to Aster, "Nope. Out," before he fully leaves. "Thankfully you're baby sister wanted to watch a movie. Aster, what are you doing? Under my roof," Lucy does a quick little shoulder shimmy when Aster finally figures out how Ransom knew where she was.

"Why, you little..."

"Aster! We're not doing that here."

"She..."

"Volleyball isn't even in season," her eyes turn to the floor. "That kid looks like a douche bag. Why do you want to be with a douche bag?"

"Maybe because Ransom Drysdale scares everyone off? I'm sorry, I'll be your perfect little angel forever and ever. I won't ever get married or have a date."

"That's not too much to ask for is it?"

_____________________________________________________________

There are very few people that Lucy just absolutely loves. Like truly adores them, and is sweet to them. One of those people is James Rogers. The problem is, when she's around James, she demands all his attention, leaving Iris with NOTHING. "Jamey!" she screams as soon as she sees him walk through the door. Her little legs racings towards him.

"Hey little bit."

"Mom! Lucy is bothering us again," Iris screams for you.

"Stop, she's perfect," James chastises her. Iris' mouth goes slack as she stares at him.

"Yeah, I'm perfect."

Aster smiles walking past "Baby Lucifer strikes again. Wait until she catches the fact that you and James kiss."

"You kiss her Jamey?" those honey eyes stare at James, and he's unsure what to say. "You wouldn't kiss her."

"MOM!"

"Ris, she's fine."

"Yeah, Icy, I'm fine," she gives Iris a an evil grin, "Jamey, can we watch a movie?" smiling even bigger when Iris mouths to her she's going to kill her. "Daddy, Icy is being mean."

"Iris, quit being mean to your baby sister."

Masterlist

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

Uppast's Cats Tour Comments: Act 1

note: i'm referring to the cats by their show names, however I may use the actor's name for a specific comment!

Overture

They did this SO well! I definitely missed seeing the cast in the aisles, but they projected the green eyes onto the stage, and it was the perfect amount of creepy/weird/hypnotizing.

I absolutely love the lights slowly being raised while shining all the spotlights, it sets the vibe PERFECTLY

also saying this now: the orchestra was incredible!

Prologue: Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats

right off the bat, we’ve a super sweet Demestrap moment, with Munkustrap checking on Demeter after the car! It was adorable!

Devon's voice is SO good for Munkustrap, also the man is TALL OH MY GOD

Tugger didn't get his "can you say of your bite that it's worse than your bark" line, which I was a little disappointed about. However, Zach as Bill Bailey is absolutely 10/10.

Brianna… the babiest Sillabub… so precious... so small...

There were some Victor and Gus moments, with them either standing near each other or sharing looks/touches, so if anyone ships them, y'all got your rarepair moment!

THE BOOT WAS SO LOUD LMAO

They use the set so well!

The Naming of Cats

creepy, wonderful, everything I want from this number

A handful of the cats got right to the edge of the stage where the lighting was, so they were all glowing, and it was the BEST vibe.

Taylor was staring into my soul during the last verse so now I can say I've been vibe-checked by Coricopat.

Invitation to the Jellicle Ball

Hyla is the PERFECT Victoria!!!!! She's so incredibly graceful, she had the sweetest expression on her face, and ugh it was flawless.

Paul is also just an amazing Mistoffelees.

Munkustrap had literally the sweetest moment with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer and I almost started crying. Right before Jennyanydots' song, when everyone's getting into place, Mungo and Rumple immediately went to Munkustrap and were cuddling his legs, and he gave them pets, and just oh my god T_T

Gumbie Cat

OKAY SO I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THE KITTEN SQUAD SO MUCH MY HEART

When everyone's setting up for Jennyanydots' song, after the nuzzles, the lights start to switch, and the kitten squad was trying to catch the lights on the ground while Munkustrap was looking at them with the fondest expression and i swear i cried a little bit over how cute they were.

SKIMBLE LOVES HIS WIFE SO MUCH AND WAS HELPING HER GET THE KITTENS INTO THEIR MICE COSTUMES

Plato, Alonzo, and Mungojerrie were great cockroaches, 10/10

The Gumbie Trio was so good! Their voices sounded amazing together, and they were all just having so much fun!

SO MUCH MAMA JELLY AND SON TUMBLE I FEEL SO HAPPY

I'm going to go more in-depth in my Kitten Squad post!

Rum Tum Tugger

The way Zach said "Who will it be?" was absolutely amazing, i loved it, 10/10 character introduction.

Jennyanydots stomped off when he interrupted her accolades, she was very upset.

Zach and Devon nailed Tugger and Munkustrap's sibling dynamic PERFECTLY, Devon was the best Tired Older Brother Munkus.

Yeah, this number pretty much confirmed Zach as my favorite Tugger.

Mistoffelees and Cassandra did some lounging together in the background on the car.

Chelsea's Bomba is absolutely *chef's kiss*, I adore her

Obviously Tugger and Mistoffelees did their little dance, and it was wonderful. I'm not sure if other shows had Mistoffelees do this, but he went between Tugger's legs at the end of his little solo and Tugger was just vibing.

MY FAVORITE MOMENT THOUGH had to be near the end of the song, Munkustrap was 100% getting into it, and Tugger went over to him and was teasing him, poking him, and it was the cutest brother interaction.

They did have the camera! Zach did some very Tugger poses, and it was great.

Grizabella the Glamour Cat

haha Tugger went to hide behind the metal bars on the furthest side of the stage away from Grizabella, I'm in ✨pain✨

Sillabub goes to touch Grizabella, Grandpa Skimble pulls her back and starts scolding her, I want to hug the baby.

No, but I did really love that moment. It's off to the side, but you can see him giving her a talking to, and she's trying to say something back, but he's very firm.

Mungojerrie egged George on to scratch Grizabella, George sweetie don't be mean.

Taylor has such a perfect voice for Grizabella, and I loved her look!

OKAY SO LAUREN AND CHELSEA'S VOICES

Lauren's voice is so smooth and suave, and Chelsea's voice has a little growl that almost made me pass out, like ma'am i'm in love? But their voices mixed together, as well as how slightly different they are was such a great choice, and I kind of hope that other future productions take note and have two actresses with vastly different vocals for Demeter and Bombalurina.

Bustopher Jones

Mistoffelees and Victoria go to great Bustopher together and it was the cutest thing, they were so excited to see him!

Munkustrap immediately grabbing Mungo and Rumple by the necks and steering the gremlins away from the Very Important Cat.

Tugger was keeping watch so Munkustrap could be silly with everyone else during Bustopher's number, and that's not something I'm forgetting. Usually, obviously, Munkustrap's sort of in the background, standing, watching, and not really interacting. But Tugger switched places, and was up on the scaffolding watching, and it was CUTE!

My Tuggandra crumbs, thank you Zach and Lexy, I'm indebted to you both.

Tugger literally was just lounging on the car during the end of Bustopher's song, just waving his arms around, and I love him.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

Elana (Teazer for this show) had the PERFECT Rumple giggle!

They're so silly, I love them

They made the best facial expressions, especially when Mungo "stole" Rumple's pearls.

Very dramatic gremlin twins, jumping all over the place, not caring about anything!

They were so confident at the end of their song when they went to walk off, and immediately went into "oh shit" mode when Munkus, Plato, and Alonzo came out.

Run through the legs of Munkus! See Munkus, this is why you need to not stand with your legs apart when you're attempting to control kittens.

Old Deuteronomy

Saying it again, Devon and Zach are SUCH a good Munkustrap and Tugger.

The babies were so excited to see Old Deut! They could barely contain themselves, and then got cuddles! (Also Tanto was with the kittens and i love that for her, let her be a kitten!! I definitely got "big brother Cori/little sister Tanto" vibes)

Everyone's getting Deut nuzzles!!

Tugger did a VERY dramatic shimmy at his dad, and Deut laughed, and I cried.

Tugger and Munkustrap standing on either side of their dad!!!! He's so proud of them!!

Jellicle Ball

Sillabub was hiding on top of the oven before the Ball, sweet baby T_T

George got to sing with Old Deut!! Happy boy!!

TUMBLE FLIPS TUMBLE FLIPS TUMBLE FLIPS

Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks being the Supervisors!!

There was a really sweet Jellylorum and Alonzo moment (def going to talk more about it in the Alonzo post), but my "Jellylorum is Alonzo, Tumble, and Pounce's Mom" hc is feeling SO VALIDATED TONIGHT

I've said this so many times, but I adore that Plato and Victoria get their own little solo before their Big Solo. It's so sweet, and Hyla and Adam have wonderful chemistry!

Tugger chases Bomba offstage before The Moment, and I love that for them

CUDDLE PILE!!!

Munkustrap and Demeter cuddled together in the corner away from the pile and I want to sob because they were just so sweet, her head was on his shoulder, and he was holding her, and literally everyone in this show has such good chemistry with each other.

Tugger looks up with the psychic twins during Grizabella's reveal, once again making me think that Tugger and Munkustrap have magic like their brother.

OH AND TUGGER DID THE STUPIDEST LITTLE DANCE WHERE HE WAS SHAKING HIS BUTT AND HAVING FUN AND MUNGOJERRIE LAUGHED AT HIM AND THEY HAD A MOMENT AND IT WAS GREAT

Memory

ouch ouch ouch

Jennyanydots blocks the stairs up to Deut's tire so Grizabella can't go to Deut, my heart

steering the babies away from Grizabella even though Silla wants to give her a hug.

Taylor you hurt me in the best way possible

I always get emotional over Grizabella's dance before her song, it's such a telling moment, but unfortunately I don't think everyone understands that it's supposed to be a serious moment and not funny.

Deut sits on his tire the entire song and it's HEARTBREAKING

At the very end, Grizabella does the reaching back, and Deut reaches forward, and if you're sitting in the right spot it looks like they're touching and i'm NOT OKAY

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

Hi, sorry if you’re not writing but, could you do prompt #7 or #24 your choosing with yamaguchi? Just basically a gn!reader who is flustering the shit out of him or smthing ty <3

Haikyuu!! Prompt list trial

HQ!! Prompt list

Sorry this took so long! I’m feeling a little slow with writing lately. Thanks for your request, and I hope you enjoy!

Words: 1275

Warnings: suggestive, teasing Yamaguchi

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x GN!reader

Prompt(s): #7- "..so if I do this, you'll get harder?"

It wasn't exactly fair what you were doing, but it was way too fun to stop. You hadn't meant to find out that the beloved Yamaguchi had a crush on you, but it was difficult not to listen to the teasing of his teammates. Obviously you reciprocated his feelings, (honesty who wouldn't), and your chest bubbled in excitement. You were in the same class as Ennoshita, occasionally participating in study groups with him, and the two of you got along pretty well. It wasn't too odd that you had asked to watch the boys he talked about so much practice, and Ennoshita was ecstatic that you wanted to experience the first years' talent.

You were sat on the bleachers pretending to do homework, peaking down at your paper occasionally to doodle. It was cute how Yamaguchi would glance at you after he served, and you would always smile encouragingly. He was just so adorable and so blushy that you couldn't help but have feelings for him. Before one of their matches, you DIYed a cheerleader outfit like you saw in America, matching the length of the short skirt/shorts.

You cheered playfully along with the other students that came to watch the match that would determine whether the team was going to nationals or not, flashing your pom-poms around beside Yachi and Tanaka's sister. You weren't quite sure who the other guys beside you were, but they seemed nice enough. The match was confusing and you had no clue what was going on half of the time, but you cheered the loudest whenever Yamaguchi was serving.

"You guys did awesome!!" Yachi pumped a fist into the air as she ran towards the boys with you, gripping your hand tightly. The two of you had gotten a bit closer during the match, and you now had her number in your phone.

"Y-y/n-san," Ennoshita blushed as he took in your outfit, "I didn't realize that you would be cheering for us today."

"Yep! I made it last night!" You twirled in a circle, showing off your handiwork, "though it would look better with a number on the back."

"You can put my number on it, y/n-chan,~" Tanaka and Nishinoya said at the same time, clasping their hands together and fluttering their lashes. Sugawara slapped his palm on both of their heads and whispered something in their ears. The two boys' eyes widened and they started giggling, which was a concerning sight.

"Locker rooms, guys," Daichi reminded the team, and you watched as they made their way to the change rooms.

"What was that about?" You wondered aloud to Yachi, following her down the hallway where the boys disappeared. She just shrugged, a cheeky grin forming on her face.

The two of you waited outside of the boys' locker room, listening to the chaos that was inside.

"—how were we supposed to know that it was that y/n-san?" Nishinoya asked someone, and your interest piqued at the sound of your name.

"I'm pretty sure there's only one y/n-san in the school," Tsukishima replied, to your confusion. "And I told you not to hit on them because Yamaguchi has a crush on them."

"Awe Tsukki,~" Tanaka said. "You're such a good friend to him."

You glanced at Yachi quizzically, who was looking away guiltily. Well she obviously knew Yamaguchi liked you. Your face reddened with happiness, and a smile broke out onto your face. Your heart swelled at the thought of a blushy Yamaguchi, arm carefully locked with your own and a blush on his face.

"Would it be alright if I took the bus with you guys?" You asked Yachi airily. "I don't wanna sit in Tanaka-san's car for another couple hours."

"I-I mean you would h-have to ask c-coach Ukai I'm p-pretty sure," she replied, a flustered blush on her cheeks.

It was odd how easily convinced the Karasuno volleyball coach was to let you on their ride, even if you had been at their practices a few times. Ukai let you have a seat to yourself near the back of the bus, overlooking the rest of the vehicle. When the boys finally started to fill in they didn't notice you at first, but once Hinata locked eyes with you he shouted out a loud greeting.

"Hi y/n!!" The redhead beamed. "Why're you here? Did you watch the whole game? Did you see our quick attack?!!"

"Calm down, shrimpy," Tsukishima mumbled as he pushed past the smaller boy, "don't overload them with questions."

"Oh, I'm just here because Tanaka-san's driving made me incredibly car-sick," you shrugged. "I didn't feel like puking out the window a second time."

You saw the green cowlick of Yamaguchi's hair peak over the tall blonde's shoulder, and you could tell that he was cowering away. Tsukishima found himself a seat, blocking off the edge with his gym bag.

"Sorry Yams," he grinned cheekily, "looks like you'll have to find another spot."

Yamaguchi's face flushed a cherry red as he looked around, knowing what his best friend was trying to do. He bit his lip once he noticed that all of the other seats were taken, either by his teammates or their luggage. He gulped and turned over to look at you, grip tightening on his bag strap.

"U-uh, can I, uhm, can I sit here?" The nervous boy asked quietly, trying to mask the shake in his voice.

"Sure!" You accepted happily, offering him the window seat. He held his breath as he shimmied by, immediately regretting facing his body towards you. His cheeks flared another spout of dark pink.

Yamaguchi sat down and let his bag fall to his feet, and he looked out the window anxiously. The two of you didn't say much once the bus began to move; his legs couldn't stop bouncing with nerves, and he occasionally turned his head slightly to peek at you. He admired your appearance through his eyelashes, watching you nibble on your lips. Yamaguchi gulped and turned back away, his mind racing with thoughts of your puffy lips.

A small smile broke onto his face as he felt your head lean against his shoulder and he blushed. Your hand slowly slipped onto his thigh and his breath hitched, trying with all his might to not get hard. Which obviously failed when he felt a twitch in his dick. Yamaguchi shifted uncomfortably, awkwardly hunching over to conceal his erection.

"...are you hard?" You whispered questioningly, so quietly he almost couldn't hear you. "Wow, you are."

Yamaguchi choked on his own saliva processing what you said, and he felt his face flush so hard he swore that blood vessels broke, "I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, rubbing his legs together, "I-it's just when you touch me l-like that..." he trailed off.

"..so if I do this, you'll get harder?" You whispered in his ear as you slid your hand onto his inner thigh, gently massaging it.

"U-uh," he squeaked, "y-yeah..." Yamaguchi was sure the bus had gotten hotter with your hand between his legs.

"This is ok, right Yams?" You nibbled on his earlobe and he whimpered out a quiet breath.

"Y-yes," Yamaguchi swallowed harshly. He let his grey-green hair cover his eyes as you continued to massage very close to his erection,. "I-I like you," he confessed softly, glancing at your e/c eyes.

"I know," you uttered into his neck. "I like you too, cutie."

[adiwriting]

@litwitlady​ requested more Isobel, so here you go.

As always, prompts for this verse are open. Drop them in my inbox or message me. (gif by @darlingnotso​ <3 ) 

PSA: I’ve been struggling all week with how to continue writing Malex given my current emotions about the TB situation. And I realized that not creating anymore isn’t going to help anyone. What WILL help is putting money towards relief for Native Americans. So from this point forward, every time I post a fic, I am going to be donating $$ to the Navajo Nation COVID-19 Relief Fund and if you are willing and able, I invite you to do the same. 

Week 14: 

Michael is laying in bed with Alex, both of them just starting to wake up after a late night. Alex had performed at open mic night and then Maria had offered up a round of shots. One round of shots quickly became several and after an Uber home, they’d continued drinking over a very competitive game of strip poker, that Alex had lost spectacularly at. So when the puppies start barking incessantly from the other room, Michael can only groan. 

A moment later, the doorbell rings. 

“No,” he grumbles and Alex whines. Neither of them make a move to leave the bed when the doorbell rings again. 

Michael looks over at Alex expectantly, and Alex’s only response is to wave at his leg, helplessly. 

Michael snorts. “Interesting how you are so ready to pull the disability card when it comes to things like this, but when you’ve been on your feet for hours and I’m offering you a chair, it’s all, ‘I can do anything anyone else can do, twice. Three times on Saturday.” 

Alex continues to smile at him until Michael rolls his eyes and gets out of bed. The moment he vacates his spot, Bell jumps into bed and cuddles up next to Alex. 

“Traitor,” Michael tells her, with no real malice behind it. He’s glad to see that she’s getting more comfortable with them both every week that she’s here. 

He slips into last night's jeans, zipping them up but ignoring the button. Whoever is at the door can deal with it. He’s not planning on being in his clothes for long. 

“Bring me a coffee on your way back,” Alex tells him with the most adorable smile that he doesn’t even flip him off playfully like he normally would at such a request. Instead he kneels on the bed and leans over Bell to give him a kiss. 

The doorbell rings a third time and the puppies go crazy. 

“Alright, I hear you,” he says, standing back up and heading out the door. 

He rubs his eyes and he makes his way through the house. He peeks into the kitchen. The moment the puppies see him, they start jumping over each other, trying to hop the baby gate to get out, barking to get his attention. 

“Give me a minute,” he tells them as he reaches the door. 

The doorbell rings again and Michael curses as he opens it, annoyed to see Isobel on the other side. 

“You couldn’t just use your powers to unlock the door yourself?” he grumbles, confused at the grocery bags in her hand. He’s 100% sure he didn’t agree to her coming over today.

“Your neighbor’s watching and being super creepy. I got nervous,” she says. 

Michael looks over her shoulder and rolls his eyes when he realizes who she is talking about. 

“Asshole,” he explains before raising his hand with a fake smile. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Register!” Through his teeth, he adds, for Isobel’s enjoyment, “not a single one of her flowers are gonna bloom this year. She reported us to the HOA last week.” 

“Why?” Isobel asks, perfect mix of annoyed and confused. “Your guys house could be the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.”

Mrs. Register glares at him before heading back into her house, at which point he flips her off. 

“She claims our fence is too tall,” he says, stepping out of the way so she can come inside. 

“Was it?” she asks, heading for the kitchen. The dogs go crazy when they enter. Isobel greets them all, pulling treats out of her pocket for them. Determined as ever to buy their affections. 

“No,” he says offended. “You think I would install a fence that wasn’t the proper height? I told her I’d cut it down if she wanted to see all the queer sex we have in the backyard. She’s a homophobic bitch who’s pissed off that I moved in.”

“So you moved in!” she asks, squealing in delight so loudly that he rolls his eyes. 

“No,” he answers quickly to cover up his slip. He’s certainly been calling Alex’s place home for weeks now, but he doesn’t live here. Not yet. Not until Alex brings it up. It was his space first and Michael doesn’t want to intrude or push too hard or too fast. “You know what I mean,” he says, hoping she’ll drop it. 

Thankfully she does. She starts unpacking her bags and he leans against the counter to watch. Trying to figure out what it is that she thinks she’s doing. He’s well past the days where he needed Isobel to stock his fridge for him. 

“So you did your little weed-o-magic curse on her?” she asks. 

“Trust me, the woman deserves far worse, but it’s all Alex will let me do,” he complains, taking the eggs from her and putting them in the fridge. 

“Well luckily, my orgasms don’t depend on being in Alex’s good graces.” Michael makes a face. He doesn’t want to hear about his sister’s orgasms. “I’ll let the air out of her tires on the way out.” 

He smiles at that. After some of the hateful things the lady has said to Alex and him, it’s what she deserves. “You’re my favorite sibling,” he says. 

“I know.” She smiles at him, patting his cheek lovingly. 

He hears the creak of the bedroom door open down the hall and sighs. If Alex is up, his hopes of crawling back into bed are slowly fading. 

“Are you going to explain why you’re waking us up on a Sunday?” he asks as Alex appears at the baby gate, puppies yelping to get out. Alex opens the gate and moves to the back door to let the dogs outside. 

“Everyone else is gonna be here in an hour. I figured I’d help you get the house ready,” she says. 

“Ready for what exactly?” Alex asks, returning to the kitchen. He leans against the counter and Michael shuffles over so that he can lean against him. 

“We’re having family brunch here,” she says, like it’s no big deal. 

“What?” he asks, as if he misheard her. He heard her just fine, but he doesn’t accept. He did not agree to this. 

“Our Sunday family brunch,” she says, like that somehow constitutes an explanation. 

He looks over at Alex who mutters, “I better go find pants.” 

“Oh I don’t know Captain Manes, I think you look delicious,” she says batting her eyelashes in a way that Michael knows is teasing but he still steps in front of Alex to shield him from her view. 

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend and get your own,” Michael tells her. Alex’s hands find their way around his waist and Micheal leans into the touch. 

“You’re no fun,” she says, turning back to put the rest of the groceries away. 

“Iz, explain,” Michael tells her. 

“We’re having brunch.” She smiles at him without an ounce of remorse even though Michael knows that she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

Alex snorts. 

“Okay, now explain it like we are 5,” Michael says, fighting back an amused smile. He is not going to be happy about this, no matter how hilariously persistent she is. She’s a brat and he isn’t going to encourage her. She’s ruining his Sunday. 

“You said that, under no circumstances, were you leaving this house today,” she tells him, crossing her arms, daring him to challenge her on her interpretation of his words. 

He shakes his head as Alex whispers, “I told you to not to leave her a loophole to climb through.” 

Michael looks over his shoulder at Alex, who is fighting back a smile, clearly having already settled on amused instead of annoyed. 

“I hate you,” he says, rubbing his face in defeat. 

“I love you, too,” she says with a laugh. “Now button up your pants and go find a shirt that isn’t covered in last night’s sexual activities. 

“It happened one time,” Alex grumbles into his ear and Michael laughs. 

“You’re doing all of the cooking and the cleanup,” Michael tells her. 

Isobel shrugs. “Done.” 

“We’re going to go get ready,” Michael says, taking Alex’s hand and walking out of the kitchen. 

On the way out, Alex turns to her and says, “We aren’t making a habit of this.” 

Isobel raises her hand in a salute and says, “Whatever you say, Captain.” 

The challenge in both Alex and Isobel’s eyes has Michael groaning. Michael lets the puppies back in and then heads back to the bedroom with Alex. 

“You shouldn’t goad her,” Michael complains. “If you give her a challenge, she won’t back down. She doesn’t know how to lose.” 

“Babe, I’ve been to actual war. I think I can handle your sister,” he says. 

Michael shakes his head. No matter what Alex may have seen in Iraq, he’s never really had to combat Isobel in full on event planning mode. 

“I’ll be sure to say nice things at your funeral,” Michael jokes. 

Bell whimpers at them as they start pulling clothes out of the closet. 

“Sorry girl,” Michael tells her. “We won’t be spending the day with you.” 

Bell turns her head to look at Alex, expression hopeful, if that’s even possible for a dog. 

Alex shakes his head. Bell puts her head back on the pillow and shimmies until the blanket is covering all of her. 

“She’s got the right idea,” Michael says with a laugh, trading out his old jeans for a clean pair. 

“It’s not so bad.” Alex sits on the bed to get his prosthetic on. 

“Isobel’s brunches from hell aren’t so bad?” Michael says, eyes going wide in comedic shock. “Did Alex Manes just admit that he likes a party?” 

“It’s not a party, it’s a family brunch,” he argues. “It’s kind of nice. You know?” 

Michael does know. It’s the kind of thing neither of them had growing up. 

“I still get to be mad about the lack of morning sex though, right?” 

Alex laughs. “Always.” 

Tagged: @callieramics​, @redstalkingdeath​ @alexmaanes

(wanna be tagged? hit me up)

[asteroiideae]

1, 4, and 7 for the meta writer ask!

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Right now, I’m primarily writing on text-based rpg forums (specifically a Harry Potter one, at the moment, because I’m still a basic sixteen year old at heart I guess lol) but I’ve recently started writing a series of vignettes based on my Scum & Villainy TTRPG party, which has also been a lot of fun! It’s difficult to measure “progress” on my text-based rpg writing, but I’ve been on the same forum for about six months now, running 12 characters, and nearly all of them are heavily involved in the plot, which I consider an accomplishment! My S&V vignettes I’ve only just begun -- debating whether or not anyone would be interested in reading them/whether I should post them up anywhere. I think what I love most about both projects is that they’re purely collaborative! I’m working with other people, their concepts, their goals, and I have come to absolutely adore using my writing (and improv) to support other people’s creative pursuits. ** gonna go out of order so I can drop my writing under a read more, if I can lol 7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree? Oh man this is such a difficult one to answer???? I don’t really spend a lot of time thinking about my writing style, honestly. I tend to write from my gut -- I don’t pre-plan a lot, I just immerse myself into my character and then whatever gets written down is what’s happening? (pour one out for my writing partners who get a rough 20 minute response without my proof-reading or editing!) But I guess probably what I’d say I’m known for in my writing circles is my strong sense of character? I’m pretty good at shifting language/pacing/style to suit whatever character voice I’m attempting to convey, and I spend most of my focus on developing those voices. lol idk I don’t consider myself particularly gifted at, or known for, anything beyond that. (Maybe, negatively, I’m bad about utilizing setting. Where the fuck is this scene taking place???? I sure as shit don’t know. I’ve been trying to work on improving that, though.) 4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like) 

Jess, you really came in with the ones I knew I’d struggle with! lol I tend not to be shy about things I know I do well, but I always squirm a little when asked what I like about my writing, for some reason. But! I’ll share two recent pieces that I liked -- gonna drop them under a read more, but I’ll say what I like about them here. 1. The first is a post from my Harry Potter rpg? I really liked it because I don’t often write hardened/wearied characters in such long-standing relationships? So getting to do an entire thread between a mutually-battered couple cleaning each up after a fight is shockingly intimate, and heart-warming, and idk I really love the way this post in particular came out, as a result. 2. I wrote this literally last night as a warm-up! In my Scum & Villainy game I swap between playing twins, and I hadn’t gotten to play as Ditha for several months, so I wanted to get back into her headspace -- which I did by writing something not in her POV? It’s very short, but I love how neatly it captures and introduces who Ditha Thorn is as a woman, without being long or complicated. from this post, if anyone else wants to receive a novel about my writing I guess.

1. Csilla Voronin & Alastor Moody (from Lightning Struck Itself)  Csilla Voronin looks down at Alastor Moody, and raises her eyebrow just a fraction. "I'm in better shape than you are." It's probably true; she's still got all her parts attached, and only the one (admittedly larger and absolutely cursed) wound to contend with. What it isn't however, is entirely true. Csilla is good at lying to everyone but this man, which is why she usually deflects rather than tries to outright tell him an untruth. Her fingers gently run through Alastor's blood-matted hair. It's not worth pressing him to see someone tonight; not in the least, because she wants to tuck him into bed as badly as he wants her to. "Alright." "As if I've ever been paid a wage." The retort comes easier to her lips than the more honest answer: nothing about this relationship is above, or below, her. She draws her fingers from his hair, now safely pushed back from his ear, and studies the mess; sighs, a sound more empathetic than anything else. "It's going to hurt like a bitch." As she draws away, Csilla drops a brief kiss into the crease of Alastor's forehead, using her forearms against the tub to push herself upright. She picks up her wand in one hand, and disappears through the door into the hallway beyond - only to return a moment later with the first aid kit from the kitchen table. She drops the thing onto the sink, and begins to rummage through it. Alcohol wipes, and gauze, tumble out of the kit and into her hands, and she tucks a few between her palm and her wand. "Were you going to ask me something?" She reaches for the distraction, even as she pauses to shimmy out of her trousers, and drops them unceremoniously atop the messy sink. The first aid supplies go onto the toilet lid, while she toes out of her socks. "Or are you just tired?" Either is possible, but Csilla privately suspects the latter. Free of her socks, she balances one hand on the side of the tub, and carefully sets one foot in, nudging Alastor until she can lower herself into the water, knees trapping his thighs between them. She summons the first of the alcohol wipes into her hand with a lazy flick of her wand, and carefully tears it open. All the warning he gets is a steady, apologetic, glance -- and she presses the wipe to the soot-and-blood caked remains of his ear. Her free hand holds his shoulder back against the porcelain, and her legs pin him mercilessly down. Better to get it over with quickly, than to draw the affair out. 2. Ditha Thorn, Scoundrel (from Scum & Villainy; The Morning Glory) It’s just warm enough that the air carries the earthy aroma of cow dung; it’s hardly romantic, but that’s what spring smells like - the ground thaws, and with it, the excrement from innumerable livestock herds. The young woman sprawled on the faded plaid blanket doesn’t seem to notice it, though. She’s leaned back on her forearms, long hair brushing the blanket as she tips her head back to look at the stars. Beside her, a similarly aged boy traces a shape in the air. “Do you see it? Right there, that little blinking light.” He jabs his finger at the sky suddenly, a grin spilling out over his features. “That’s the place, I think. If they’ll take me, I’ll go there to train.” The girl’s expression cools as she narrows her eyes on that point; the youthful curves of her face going hard with disapproval. “What if they don’t?” He sighs, shrugging out of his jacket suddenly, and dropping it on the girl’s legs. For a while, the only sound is the rustling of the late winter breeze through the shorn stalks of corn in the field around them. Although the girl’s expression doesn’t change, she scoops up the leather jacket, slides her arms into the sleeves and wraps it around her shoulders. “Then I guess I’ll be stuck here, too.” He leans forward, wraps his arms around his knees. “I’m not stuck here,” the girl says suddenly. She sits up, drawing her knees to her chest in a mirror of his own posture. “I’m leaving after graduation, there’s nothing on this rock for me.” That uncomfortable silence returns, and the boy shifts back and forth, clearly trying to find a way to dispute her words - but unwilling to do so while sitting alone with her in the dark. The moons begin to creep towards the horizon, the light fades, before either of them speaks again. “Everyone’s stuck here, Ditha.” He drops his arms, pushes himself off the ground and onto his feet. “Maybe your sister’s smart enough to find a school or a job willing to take her, and maybe the Legion will take me, but what do you think you’re gonna do to get out of here?” The girl, Ditha, blinks several times - her eyes still fixed on the stars. “Sounds like a challenge.” A slight huff is the only response to her quiet statement; the boy has known Ditha long enough to know the worst thing to do is dare her to something. Instead he bends down to tug gently on the blanket. “Come on, Di. It’s time to go.” She stands up, lets him lift and shake the sandy dirt out of the blanket, watches him fold it with eyes that barely reflect the faint light in the dark. When he offers her his hand, after tucking the blanket under his arm, she shakes her head. “I’ll find my own way back to town,” she says, in a tone of voice he’s never heard before. He shrugs, turns toward his truck - she’ll probably follow, he thinks. Where else is she going to go? But when he reaches the vehicle, turns with his hand on the door, Ditha Thorn is nowhere to be seen.

[purple-spring]

songfic day 23: (make it feel like it’s the) first time

Jughead and Betty, married, domestic as fuck, keeping the flame alive.

(Inspired by Jessie Ware’s “First Time”.)

...

Jellybean had to be told twice that no, the kids were not allowed sugar after 7, no matter how persuasive or adorable they could be. They were their parents’ children, after all - they had Cooper stubbornness and Jones cunning in their blood.

“Go, go,” she said, pushing Betty and Jughead out the door while behind her, 5-year-old Henry triumphantly held up the jar of cookies his parents had taken great pains to hide. Jughead and Betty shared a sidelong glance, as if to say, Well, what can you do?

Jellybean laughed at her nephew before turning back to his parents. “Where are you guys off to for your anniversary, anyway?”

“Umm, I’m not sure,” Betty said, her eyes twinkling at Jughead. “Your brother says it’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Jellybean scoffed irreverently. “Is he taking you to Pop’s?”

Jughead narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ll have you know that Pop’s continues to be—“

“A fine exemplar of American nostalgia, yeah, yeah, we know,” she said. “I’m teasing. Seriously, though, guys - have fun. You both deserve a break from these monsters.”

“Hey, we heard that!” cried 7-year-old Eliot, her messy blonde hair bouncing as she sprang up indignantly from her picture book.

“Yeah, we hurv vat,” echoed Henry, whose mouth was full with his second cookie.

Jughead smirked at Jellybean. “Told you. No sugar after 7. Good luck, sister dearest.”

“Oh, come on, she’ll be fine,” Betty said reassuringly. “JB, seriously, thank you so much, and please, call us if they--”

But Jellybean was already shutting the door on them. “I’m not calling you unless they’re injured, on fire, or both. Go! Have fun!”

…

Jughead pulled into a familiar clearing and slowed the car to a stop. “Hey, why’d you tell JB it was a surprise?”

Betty gave him a look as she started shimmying her panties down. “Really? You want me to tell her the truth?”

Jughead stopped her hand. “Whoa, hang on, wait - keep those on. I like moving them to the side.” He started winding the windows up. “And look, what’s wrong with cruising out into the woods to have a little car sex?”

Betty laughed. “You really want me to have that conversation with your sister?”

“Well, fine. No. But there’s nothing inherently wrong with what we’re doing. Keeping the spark alive, and all that shit.” He lowered the back rest. “Alright. Get on me, baby.”

Betty hiked her skirt up and moved to straddle Jughead. A loud beep echoed through the forest, and she giggled. “Oh my god, this is the worst idea. My ass is way too big for this.”

“Hey, none of that, your ass is perfect,” he said, caressing it before giving it a light smack. Her blonde hair grazed his cheek as she gave him a slow, simmering kiss.

This was once familiar territory for them, when they were teenagers. Horny as hell, with no place to go after the bunker was cordoned off as a precaution, they took to driving Betty’s car out into Fox Forest, where they couldn’t be disturbed and were allowed to be as loud and wild as they wanted to. They’d become experts at manoeuvring the narrow space of the driver’s seat. It was Jughead’s idea to go back out for their wedding anniversary - to try and recapture some of that ecstatic, youthful fumbling.

Betty broke off the kiss. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing his dark forelock out of his eyes. “Hello there. I haven’t seen you from up here in a while.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Need I remind you that we fucked just two days ago, and you were also on top?”

“No, I mean here,” she said, laughing. “In the car. I miss this.”

“Oh,” he said. “Me, too.”

Slowly, Betty unbuttoned her blouse, stripping down to the black lace bralette Jughead loved so much. With his thumb, he grazed the small tattoo she got after they got married - a discreet ‘Jones’ in a simple font on her ribcage, underneath the curve of her left breast.

“This wasn’t here the last time we did this,” he said wistfully.

She smiled. “And neither were half your moves.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is someone complaining?”

“No,” she said, gasping as he reached up to bite softly at her neck, his hand now making quick work of the silken panties underneath her skirt. “Oh, god. Definitely not.”

[only-by-the-stars]

the annotated Tome of the Wild

Part 7: The Wild!

- Link didn't open his eyes. A twist on the beginning of BOTW, where you hear Zelda telling Link to open his eyes. I couldn’t resist.

- Hestu’s cameo was a lot of fun to write too. I always found him adorable, first in BOTW and then in AOC as well, and the idea of him waking up Link with his maracas was too amusing not to do. I also had to include his “shimmy shimmy” battle cry from AOC because I always laugh my head off whenever I hear it.

- This also reveals that Midna brought Link to the Great Deku Tree, a character that debuted in OOT and made further appearances in WW and BOTW.

- Something tickled her arm, breaking her out of her gloomy thoughts. Midna lifted her head and looked down. New growth was sprouting from the branch she was sitting on, wriggling its way up onto her. Nothing like this happens to Beatrice in the show, but I had to put in this chilling little moment of Midna nearly succumbing to the dekuwood. It provides a way later to introduce Rhoam’s presence in his scene, as well as some horror at what could’ve happened to her here.

- Note to self: never visit Tabantha if you can help it... Tabantha, of course, being a very cold region in BOTW’s Hyrule. Link’s newfound hatred of snow mirrors my own, and now he’s going to associate it with this horrible experience.

- “It's a bad habit, I guess.” He laughed softly. He’s referring, of course, to how he casually greeted Riju and Medli back at the school pool and they gave him a bit of a hard time about it.

- “You...” Midna stared at him for several seconds, stunned. “You...” She slapped his hand away and starting swinging her tiny fists at him, which he easily dodged. “You oaf! You idiot! What the hell—what the hell is wrong with you? How can you forgive me so easily, when you're still in a shit situation because of me? Neither one of us would be out here groping around blindly in the fucking snow if not for what I did!” I set up Midna and Link to be parallels of each other in a couple ways. One of which is that while Link has isolated himself from Mipha, hurting and confusing her, Midna is on the other end of something similar with Zelda. And here we see something they both struggle with: forgiving themselves. Midna can’t understand how Link can so easily forgive her actions towards him, while Link utterly despises himself for his actions towards Mipha and cannot forgive himself for causing her pain. He’ll later struggle with the fact that Mipha forgives him easily, just as Midna is having trouble understanding his forgiveness of her here. All of them find it easier to forgive their loved ones than to grant that same grace to themselves.

- “She told me that while she appreciated how much I cared, I should think a little more and be less reckless. I know she'd never call me stupid, but...” Link shrugged. “Honestly, I kind of am.” Another reference to Mipha calling Link reckless, and how she hates seeing him get hurt. He is indeed not the smartest guy around, but she does describe him as being very kind and determined to help those in need, so I tried to emphasize that aspect of his personality in this story. Although the “I kind of am” line is also intended to be a subtle red flag. We’ve already seen that Link thinks very little of himself and his abilities, even when it’s clear from the words of others that he’s very talented. And we’re about to soon see him use a bit of intelligence he very much does have, in order to save the day. He would never believe himself capable of such a thing, but he does it anyway.

- “Even just a few branches could be processed... enough to get us through this storm...” Note the use of the plural here. This is leading up to the revelation about his belief that Zelda is in the lantern. His desperation to find more oil anywhere is because, of course, he believes that if the light goes out she will die. And he wouldn’t be in this scarcity if not for what happened back in chapter one, with Link and Aryll and the dog accidentally wrecking the mill and his oil supply.

- He was soon rewarded with a most welcome sight: a single dekuwood branch, growing out of that of a normal tree. It seemed sickly, withered, and it waved feebly in the air, but he rushed forward and hacked it off anyway. The very same branch that tried to attach itself to Midna, sickly and withered precisely because of that failure.

- And now we come to the confirmation that the dekuwood is made from the people who succumb to despair and exhaustion in the woods, right as we see it growing all around Aryll. Rhoam has been unaware this entire time of all the souls he’s sacrificed over the past several months, and now that he knows, he refuses to do it any longer. For he, like Midna, recognizes that Zelda would never want anyone to be harmed for her sake.

He’s also right that Link would never leave Aryll to such a fate, recognizing Link’s love and protectiveness towards his little sister. This is a point where my characterization of Link wildly diverges from that of Wirt, the protagonist of OTGW. I pulled some things from Wirt for Link and his arc, but one thing I didn’t keep was the resentment and initial callousness that Wirt displays for Greg, who is revealed in the tavern sequence to be his half-brother thanks to his mother remarrying, something Greg frowns at when Wirt mentions it. Aryll is also technically Link’s half-sister, as I revealed in the letters that his mother remarried some years after his father’s death and had Aryll with her new husband, but I could not for the life of me see him being resentful or unkind to his little sister. Whatever his faults, I’ve written him as being, at his core, an incredibly kind and deeply loving person, and his adoration of his sister is a part of that. He doesn’t view her as a “half” anything, she’s just his sister and he’ll do anything to protect her. Which of course is a big part of what led to his breakdown: his feelings of guilt over not doing as good a job of that as he thinks he should be doing.

- “Link, I don't... I don't think that's natural light. It looks more like...” This has a double meaning. The fire in the lantern is not the “natural light” of the sun, and it is also deeply unnatural, given that it’s the Beast’s soul in there.

- Speaking of that! The confrontation with the Beast plays out a bit differently here than it does in the show, thanks to Midna’s personal connection to all this. Rhoam’s mention of Zelda gets her attention, and the Beast uses her love for Zelda as a way to try and turn her and Link against each other with his attempt to make them choose which soul will go into the lantern. He’ll get fuel and kill Aryll either way, but why not pit these two against each other as a way to manipulate them into doing what he wants? Except it backfires, because Midna won’t harm anyone for Zelda’s sake, and Link figures out what’s going on anyway, thanks to remembering the words of Rhoam and Telma.

- Link stood up, his mind racing. It was like when the solution to a puzzle finally presented itself in a moment of stunning clarity. For all that he’s not that bright in so many ways, it’s important to remember that he’s canonically able to solve all those tricky puzzles we do, without benefit of a guide, just using his wits and the tools he has at hand. And so too does he solve this particular puzzle, by remembering what he’s been told and piecing it together with what he sees here, thinking about the fact that the Beast’s story doesn’t add up. Which saves the day, in the end.

- “Am I wrong?” Link repeated, his voice shaking with barely suppressed fury; he took a few more steps, forcing the Beast to retreat further. “No more lies. Tell the truth for once, Beast.” Referencing, of course, the fact that Telma told him the Beast lies. He’s absolutely furious right now because of the attempt on Aryll’s life; you do not mess with Link’s loved ones. The Beast, too, fucked around and found out the hard way.

- In the show, Wirt gives the lantern back to the Woodsman to blow out after the delivery of the “Are you?” line that I kept (and had Link nail the delivery of on his first try, unlike Wirt, because that’s what makes sense for both their characters). Here, I chose to let Link kill the Beast, because he is, after all, the legendary hero who slays the villain. But even more importantly, I felt he deserved and had earned such a moment with his growing courage over the course of the tale.

- “See you later, Link.” Hey, remember how Midna broke all our hearts by saying a similar line to Link in TP as she broke the mirror and went back to her world? I sure do!

- “Sleepers wake, dreams will fade... although we cling fast..." This, and the lyrics that close out this section, are the first few lines of the vocal version of Ballad of the Wind Fish that was done for the LA remake.

- There were lights and shadowy figures coming closer, and voices—was someone calling his name? As I would later reveal in the prologue of a place to start, Mipha was screaming his name as she ran down the hill towards him.

- The words he wanted so badly to say to her hung on the tip of his tongue And it shows on his face, that desire to express the love for her that is all but bursting out of him in this moment, and Mipha sees it. She sees that love shining in his eyes as they stare at each other, giving her her hope back and then some. In a way, Link was right: if he hadn’t hidden from her, she would’ve realized what his real feelings for her are. He just didn’t know how happy it would’ve made her. But he will soon.

- “—and that's how we got away from the evil possessed lady!” Out of the corner of his eye Link saw Aryll shake the frog triumphantly, and Mipha, distracted by the sudden commotion, looked away from him. A small, muffled chime sounded, and the amphibian's stomach glowed. “The ringing of the bell commanded her! Though she wasn't really evil, just...” The series is never clear on just what the otherworld the brothers enter is, but it is clear that it really happened to them, and I preserved that ambiguity in the same way, by showing the bell as still being in the frog’s stomach.

- Link nodded. “Yes.” It didn't matter anymore how it'd gotten into her pocket; he'd made it, and brought it with him tonight, with the intention of giving it to her. There was no more question of taking it back or denying it. Courage has been achieved; he’s no longer going to hide or pretend, or try to take back the gift he worked on so hard. Midna is right: he’s been so brave in the Wild, and it’s time to apply that bravery to confessing his feelings to Mipha and letting her know that he loves her. The words will have to wait till the next day, but for now he’s doing all he can to face his fears and stop running, by hugging her and holding her hand and wiping her tears away, letting his love show in his expression as he looks at her without avoiding her eyes. Plus, of course, admitting to his intentions with the tape and inviting her over to listen to it together. They’re finally getting a breakthrough after two months of separation and pain.

- The doctor, Syrup, is a recurring NPC throughout the series, a witch who brews up helpful healing potions for Link to use on his adventures.

- I'm home, Mipha. Calling back, of course, to Midna’s line about there being someone waiting for him and to go home to her. Not only that, but in Mipha’s letters, I had her mention wanting him to “come back to her”. And now he finally has.

and that wraps this up, as the epilogue is composed strictly of Miphlink fluff and sweet, sweet payoff. if you took the time to read the fic and these write ups, thank you, I hope you enjoyed them! ❤

[darlingrutherford]

Prompt smut 90 😏😏😏😏👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Thank you so much for the prompt, Nonny!

I have to admit, I had trouble with this one! So, thank you for the challenge!

Smut prompt, so dirty bits are hidden behind the cut. Read at your own risk if that kind of stuff makes you uncomfy.

90. “I’ll just have to cum inside you then.” from the Smut Prompts list. Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Sarya Lavellan. NSFW.

Josephine always had a list of things to check off the docket with the Inquisitor before their afternoon meetings at the War Table, and this day would be no different. But she had been gone for weeks, and they hadn’t yet had the opportunity to spend time alone. They had become masters at avoiding the ambassador, however. Too many times when Sarya had forgotten to lock the door to her chambers and too many red faces from unexpected intrusions had encouraged them to explore Skyhold for hidden rooms and dark stairwells to make up for lost time when she was away. Cullen had come upon this particular room a few days prior when wandering in thought one evening. The small study was perfect: hidden away through twisting stairwells and dark hallways deep in the fortress. Dusty, perhaps, and there was a deep crack in the wall that gave way to the sound of the howling wind, but for their purposes it would be adequate. Sarya had been late to their rendezvous, but she had given Cullen no time to chastise her before she had pushed him against a desk and flung her arms around him. He was always ecstatic to see her, and today was no different. The sound of his belt being undone by her delicate hands after mere moments of kissing was more than enough to make him rise to the occasion. 

“Miss me?” Sarya asked with a smirk as she shimmied his breeches and smalls just past his hips. He shivered for a moment from the cold of the room that hit the patch of skin, which she quickly chased away with her warm hands. 

“Always,” was Cullen's breathy response. He sighed deeply when she gripped him, as if no touch was better in the entire world. His stress rolled away with each kiss from her lips, his frustrations with each stroke of her extremely talented hand. Their instances of copulation had been few and far between on account of her travels, but she was a quick learner and each gentle, perfect squeeze of her hand was testament to it. She was too good at it by now, her hand toasty and warm around him as she nipped at his lower lip.

“Maker, I'm going to cum if you keep doing that,” he groaned with a hefty breath. It had been too long since she had touched him like this, and she was quickly working him towards his end.

“We don't have time to change before the meeting,” Sarya teased as she gave him another stroke.

“I'll just have to cum inside you, then.”

Sarya felt an ache between her thighs as he grabbed her hips and switched their positions. The comment had left him so casually, but the vulgarity of the words were so foreign to any vocabulary usually uttered from his lips. A breath escaped her as he easily lifted her onto the desk, keeping her at the edge as he rucked up the length of her long dress. 

“I didn’t want to waste time,” was her answer as he paused to appreciate the lack of smallclothes in his way. He chuckled, grinning as he leaned down to kiss her as he pulled his gloves off to explore her wetness. Maker, he wanted to fall to his knees, to kiss her where she would twitch and sigh the most, to worship her and taste her after so long, but they would already be late to the meeting as it was. He slid his hands along her legs, wrapping them around him with every intention of making up for it later that night. Sarya moaned as he quickly slid into her. Her hands held his face close to hers, lips attached to his as they kissed deeply. She gasped as he began thrusting into her with purpose, legs tightening around him and hands gripping him for purchase as she clung to him. 

“I see you’re of the same mindset,” she breathed with a smile between kisses. There was nothing Sarya adored quite like their long, loving sessions at night when their obligations were done for the day, but she found herself deeply appreciating just as much Cullen’s ability to sense the mood of the situation and give her the raw, heated energy she knew he kept deep within himself. He had moved his mouth to her neck, kissing her and breathing hot against her skin as he responded. 

“If we take too long, Sister Nightingale will send scouts for us,” Cullen moaned. He slid a hand to the dusty desk, leaning to grip the edge behind her as he tried to keep it from moving too much as it groaned with each thrust. His other hand moved between them, his thumb bringing her slick to her small bundle as he rubbed circles in a mad fashion. Sarya clung to him, hands tangling in his hair and mantle as she shook and cried in ecstasy beneath him. Oh, but he felt so good, filling her in a way that made her toes curl. She could feel the way he twitched in her when she flexed around him from his touch. She loved how vocal Cullen could get, always trying so hard to control his response but just as easily losing himself with her and giving way to moans and sighs that she would consider her greatest reward. 

“Cullen,” she moaned heavily. Her hips were rocking of their own accord, his thumb not slowing down as she twitched and rolled uncontrollably. Each thrust from him was heaven, deep and full of purpose as she felt herself hurtling towards a great precipice. His hand quickly moved from the desk to her lower back, supporting her as it arched and she snapped, crying out as she pulled at his mantle. She moaned, again and again as she came, and then his grip on her tightened as he thrust into her once more, and he groaned and gasped in desperation as he filled her pulse by pulse. Sarya swallowed, her throat incredibly dry as she tried to catch her breath. Cullen was clinging to her, his chest heaving as he audibly breathed against her jaw as he planted wet kisses along it. She smiled widely as he helped her straighten her back, his lips trailing back to hers as he licked at them and made her hum in content. 

“You’ll just have to cum inside me, then?” She breathily repeated his words from earlier with a smirk. She could feel him chuckle against her, and as he pulled back to look at her she found his face slightly flushed.

“It seemed like, well… The right thing to say, at the time,” he said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Mm, definitely the right thing to say,” she said in reassurance. Cullen grinned as she pulled him back down for a kiss, easily melding into her. She expelled a long sigh as he slipped out of her, and she sat in thought as he pulled up his breeches. “Although… I seem to be in an interesting predicament now, because of you.”

“If you are referring to your lack of small clothes, you’ll recall I never suggested you to come as such,” Cullen teased. 

“Do you think they’ll gripe much if I stop at my chambers on the way?” Sarya grimaced, suddenly wishing she had at least brought them along. “Only, I can already feel it dripping, and -”

The words had barely left her mouth before Cullen dropped to his knees in front of her. His tongue ran along the inside of her leg, tracing the mixture of his seed and her wet to the source. She moaned, fingers gripping his golden locks as his hands gripped her backside and held her to his face as he plunged his tongue into her. His hums reverberated against her, melding with her sighs as he licked and sucked until he was content that he had emptied her out. 

“Better?” He asked as he pulled his shirt from beneath his armor, wiping his mouth on the inside of it. As he stood, he held his hand out for her, helping her off of the desk as her legs shook beneath her.

“If anyone ever says Cullen Rutherford is anything less than thorough, I’ll have choice words for them,” she hummed. She pulled him down to her, kissing him deeply. Her tongue ran along his as she tasted the mix of them on his lips and in his mouth. They were late. More than late. Cullen’s face would be crimson when the light-hearted accusations would leave the mouths of their Ambassador and Spymaster, Sarya’s wobbling legs and Cullen’s disheveled hair giving both women more than enough proof of the cause of their tardiness. The thought wouldn’t cross either Sarya or Cullen’s mind though - not yet, at least. Not until they were in front of the door to the War Room and their interlocked fingers would slip from one another’s. Not until they put on a facade of professionalism with the promise of stealing blushing glances and smiles from one another throughout the evening. Then the night would come, and the candles would burn low, and they would retire to her chambers, remembering to lock the door this time as Sarya would beg Cullen to reach that point of vulgarity again, and say it once more.

[rezares]

a watercolor sky || war & peace

@spindlesandrosethorns​

tl;dr: The one where they are simultaneously worse than, and not as bad as, Ross and Rachel

Word Count: 4112

Date: March 9th, 2020

AURORA

You know when you have a cup of coffee that is far too hot to drink, but you keep taking sips anyways? Even though it burns your mouth? It just tastes too good to stop.

‘Sex with Reza’ had apparently become Aurora’s cup of too-hot coffee.

In her defense, she had never thought it would continue. Sure they’d had sex in Tunisia (a… few times, actually), but that had been comfort sex! Borne of desperation and near-death encounters and all sorts of weird moral dilemmas and nearly two years of pent up sexual desire. But when they had boarded the plane back to Swynlake, Aurora expected that to be the end and was ready and willing to go back to being just friends.

Yeaaah, that didn’t happen.

Aurora snuggled closer to Reza’s chest, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing even so she could fake sleep just a little while longer. She was getting horribly spoiled, waking up next to Reza at least once a week. She was still naked and a little sweaty under the blanket, doubtlessly sporting a few new bruises, and felt completely content with this moment in the universe. Soon, they’d have to get up and pretend this had never happened - at least around Sabiha, Fadela and Lamia both looked too smug to not know - but for this little slice of morning, Aurora got him all to herself.

REZA

Reza was not bothering to fake sleep. He just didn’t mind laying there, playing with Aurora’s hair, trying his best not to think too hard on the confusing, unfamiliar feelings slowly forming in his chest. It wasn’t that he was against them. Hardly! He wouldn’t have had sex with Aurora the first time, let alone for the past couple months if he didn’t hope to feel those feelings for her one day.

Rory was, in all honesty, the first person he wanted to feel this warmth in his chest for. But he knew from secondhand accounts how infatuation could often disguise itself as love, and as he was someone who always believed himself to be incapable of love, he didn’t want to hurt Rory again. How cruel would it be to tell her ‘I think I’m in love with you’ only to retract that statement once the infatuation wore off?

No, no, he had to make sure it stuck.

Except, this warmth hadn’t left his chest since November. It was March. Was that...not...more than just infatuation?

AURORA

Aurora finally gave up the ghost and leaned into his hand as it played with her curls, humming softly as she tried to open her heavy eyes. Well, she got halfway there.

"Mmm, you're thinking too loud," she teased in a sleepy mumble, accent thick and soft like it always was first thing in the morning. Her hand reached up to smooth out the thoughtful furrow of his brow and then trailed down to his chest as she pressed a soft kiss to his pec. "No worrying before 10 or I'll kick you out."

She would never really. It was winter and Reza was warm. Also she loved the jerk, though that thought was quickly dashed away before her magic could give her away.

(The slowly fading bruise on her chest gave a little throb. The amethyst pendant pressed against her clavicle did as well: although no one noticed.)

REZA

“Am not,” Reza grumbled, very much not ready to be proper awake. “How does someone think too loud when they’re not saying anything? I’m not awake enough to find you funny. Try again in ten minutes.”

The bitching quickly gave way to a soft, tried chuckle. God, she was cute. 

“Go ahead, you can explain to my sisters why you’re coming out of my bedroom at—” he squinted to try reading the clock but gave up “— early o’clock in the morning.”

AURORA

She was hilarious, excuse you. Aurora flicked his chin just enough to sting for a second before pushing herself up the bed so their faces were closer together.

"One, it's an expression, you ass," she murmured with a sleepy grin. "Your face gets scrunchy when you think. Two, bold of you to assume they haven't already figured it out. I'm surprised Lamia hasn't shown up at my flat yet with a 'Congrats on the sex' cake. And three…"

Aurora leaned in, kissing his jaw softly where it was the closest and tucking some of his hair back from his face in the process. "Morning," she whispered, laying her head back on his shoulder with a content little smile. Her leg slid against his as she made herself comfortable, and she giggled under her breath as his hair tickled her thigh.

REZA

God, she’s adorable…

...is what Reza would say to himself if he wasn’t still wishing he was asleep. Instead he just smiled as he closed his eyes, which was a clear sign he was amused. Rory knew him well enough by now to know she was slowly chipping away at the grumpy morning goblin that possessed him before noon.

“Yes, but do you really want to deal with their teasing and-” the kiss shut him up, and he gave a tired laugh. “It’s morning, I’ll give you that.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the shuffling of feet outside of the door, followed by a muffled ‘Sabiha, wait!’ glued his mouth shut and made him wide-ass awake. Shit.

The door handle jiggled, but stopped, as someone certainly had pulled her back.

“But I hear Amma ���Rora!”

AURORA

Just as Aurora was starting to break through Reza’s grumpy morning layer, there was a commotion outside the door that made Aurora freeze completely solid. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god,” Aurora whispered, wanting nothing more than to sink under the sheets. But no, now was not the time to hide! Or, it was, but certainly not naked in bed with a man she Was Not Dating while his daughter stood outside.

Once Aurora was certain her body hadn’t locked up and frozen from the sudden panic, she sat up to look at the door then back down at her very naked self and her very naked coconspirator. She made panicked eyes at Reza, gesturing silently at the door. Sabiha had already heard her! Should she hide anyways!? Go out and pretend like sex hadn’t happened (several times) the night before?? Shit!

REZA

“Shit.” Reza whispered. 

They weren’t telling Sabiha yet! It was too soon, he wanted to wait a while longer, he wanted to be sure- but there she was, on the other side of the door. He grabbed his jeans off the floor and shimmied into them.

“One second Sabiha, Baba’s gotta-” and as he said this, he threw the blankets over Rory and put a pillow on top of her for good measure.

He went to the door and cracked it open just enough to talk to her.

“Baba, I heard Amma ‘Rora!” Sabiha said, standing up on her tippy toes to try to see.

“What are you talking about, crazy?”

“But I-”

“No, silly. What d’you think she did, climb through the window?” He laughed, ruffling her hair. “Do you want to see ‘Rora today, is that why you’re hearing things?”

Sabiha huffed and folded her arms over her chest. She was right! She knew she was right! But...yes. Yes, she did want to see her Auntie Rory today, thank you.

“Let me finish sleeping, okay, baba? Hey, actually - why don’t you and Lamia go into the workshop and grab a bottle of wake-up potion so I can wake up faster. Then we can go see Rory.”

Sabiha eyed her father but eventually went “...fine.”

Reza made sure to lock the door behind her and waited until he heard her pad down the stairs to address Aurora. “It’s safe.”

He wandered to his closet and threw on a clean shirt, opened his top dresser drawer to grab a dress Rory’d left in his bedroom a couple weeks ago, and brought it to her. 

AURORA

Aurora felt a bit like a child again; hiding under the blankets like the world - read, her aunties - wouldn’t be able to see her if she couldn’t see it. This wasn’t as much fun as that had been; in fact, this was mortifying. Aurora kinda hoped she’d melt into the bed never to be seen again.

She peeked out from under the pillow Reza had shoved on her face when he gave the all clear, pouting a little. “Was the pillow to the face necessary?” she asked, sitting up fully and accepting the dress. She stumbled a bit as she stood from the bed, though if asked she’d blame the narcolepsy and not way her legs were still kind of numb. “I’m not going to have time to get dressed and out before Sabiha comes back,” she whispered.

Where the hell was her underwear?

 REZA

Reza shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, briefly reaching down to grab Rory’s underwear. 

“That’s not the plan. We’ll go downstairs and when she gets back ‘wow, look who came over for breakfast, what a convenient surprise!’” He explained. 

“...hey. It’s not that I’m embarrassed. I’m not. I just don’t want Sabiha to know just yet.”

AURORA

Accepting her underwear with a quiet, shy “Thank you”, Aurora began to slip her clothing on and figure out what the hell she was going to do with her hair in the next 5 minutes, but Reza’s words caught her off-guard. Embarrassed? ‘Just yet’?

What the heck did he mean ‘just yet’?

Aurora slipped on the straps of her dress but didn’t bother to do up the zipper, instead coming closer to where Reza sat on the edge. “I didn’t think you were,” she reassured, gently lifting his chin so she knew she had his full attention before letting her hand drop to his shoulder. “I mean, I thought you were embarrassed, but not of me,” Aurora amended with a small smile. Lord knows her cheeks were still going back to their normal color.

“But what do you mean you don’t want Sabiha to know just yet?” she asked innocently. She was operating under the impression that Sabiha was never going to find out about Aurora and Reza having sex, even when she was old and grey.

REZA

See, he expected Aurora to come back with a question. The question, though, was supposed to be ‘yeah, but when?’ He had his answer to that at least twelve percent formulated in his head, which was much better than his response to the question Aurora did ask.

His stared at her slack jawed as he tried to explain it to the imaginary Rory in his head without sounding patronizing. When at least a dozen phrasings were thrown out all at once it became apparent he’d be winging this.

Which. 

Is always the thought before winging something he should absolutely not wing.

“I mean that I want to make sure this-” he gestured between them vaguely. “-is sticking around before Sabiha gets any ideas in her head. She’s nine. She adores you. You know what she’d start thinking the second she catches wind that we’re-”

The words ‘together’ and ‘dating’ didn’t sound right to him. What, then?

“-that I’m- that we- we- that I’m trying to understand what having feelings is like. And I’d like to have them for you.”

AURORA

Aurora was starting to get the sense that somewhere along the way, she and Reza had missed some connection and had been drifting along on entirely different tracks. Here she had been, hopelessly smothering the dreams of her broken heart as Reza continued to lavish attention on her- or, at least, the Reza Version of ‘lavishing’.

When apparently, Reza had thought they were more. Enough ‘more’ that telling his daughter about them was a serious concern. Goodness, they should have talked about this weeks ago.

His final words caught her offguard more than anything, her heart tripping in her chest. Did he…? Was he implying…?

There went her heart, jumping away to conclusions, and she could only smile brightly at Reza’s awkward wording. For the first time in months, little blossoms of golden light curled protectively between strands of her hair. They didn’t stick out much, she had learned that lesson well, but it was more than Aurora had allowed herself in weeks.

She giggled, stepping forward until she could perch herself on his knee, her hands coming up to run through his hair before cradling his jaw gently. “You’ll figure it out,” she nearly teased. “There’s no rush.” 

REZA

Reza was far too embarrassed to address the obvious - that he and Rory, until this minute, were not on the same page. It was clear they were now, so he’d spare himself the embarrassment, thank you.

“I— I am aware that I care about you. A lot. But I need to sit with this unfamiliar feeling a little while longer before I want to name it for you. If that makes sense?” He said slowly. 

“I understand though if you can’t do that. I’ve put you through enough, Rory.” Reza smiled at her and played with her hair as he explained. “I just don’t want to rush into giving it a name just because I really want to.”

He wanted to love her. He wished he knew he was capable of that, but he didn’t know for sure and instead he clung to her like he was starved for affection. 

AURORA

Her smile was probably embarrassingly wide, her cheeks tellingly flushed and her eyes too soft and full of everything she’d been hiding in the deepest parts of her broken heart. Aurora should do something about that.

She ducked her head so she was looking at his chest instead, leaning into his hand a little as she resisted the urge to push him back on the bed and just kiss his dumb face all over. Her hands trailed down his shoulders until they were pressed to his chest, his heart beating steady and strong under her hand. She loved him. So much. Even after everything.

“I can be patient,” she promised, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “I don’t mind waiting knowing what might be at the end.” If he decided it wasn’t love? Then she’d just have to accept it. She’d risk shattering her heart again a hundred times for the chance that he might love her back. It felt like a naive, foolish sentiment, and she should know better but… this love? This was hers. 

Her magic may not be, her life may not be, but the warmth and love she felt for Reza and his daughter? That was all Aurora. She wanted to cling to that feeling for as long as she could. It was proof that she was more than a vessel.

“I still…” Aurora started shyly. “You know I…” She laughed, tucking her face against his chest. “God, now I can’t talk,” she said between embarrassed giggles. Around the crown of her head, the little golden buds began to shyly open up; peeking out between pink curls. She pulled her legs up so she was properly curled up in his lap, her arms wrapping around his waist.

REZA

Reza zipped her dress up for her as she sat curled up in his lap, lest he be tempted to coax her into discarding it on the floor, and ran his fingers through her hair as she stumbled over talking. His own thoughts and words were clouded by a layer of sleep, so he could only imagine was it was like for her.

“You don’t have to.” He assured her. “Talk, I mean. I understand. And you don’t have to be patient much longer, I just-”

Should he mention the real, final reason for any hesitation?

AURORA

She wanted to melt into him as his fingers ran carefully through her hair, pressing her cheek closer to his chest. If the constant threat of Sabiha returning at any moment wasn’t keeping her awake, she would have fallen right back asleep happily in his lap. But she was awake, and her curiosity was piqued.

Sitting back so she could finally look back at his eyes, Aurora prompted him to continue his thought with a gentle, “Yes?” 

She didn’t want to push, but she also wanted to make sure they were on the same page. Since apparently they hadn’t been doing a very good job of that, recently.

REZA

“Aurora, it is very different, loving somebody else’s child as the cool aunt, versus…” Reza bit his lip and carded his fingers through Aurora’s hair again, careful to make sure he was touching her and showing her affection as he said this.

It wasn’t harsh words, but they were realistic ones that were a bit of a shock to even his system after he all but admitted he was in love with her.

“I’m a single father, Rory. I don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated to...move toward a certain role just because you think you should. And I worry you’re going to feel pressured, or obligated, or — and you don’t. Sabiha is my responsibility. You are welcome to hangout with her, and I’m glad she adores you, but you don’t owe anything to someone else’s child.” He softened his tone even more here. “So don’t feel like you do.”

A child is the biggest responsibility. And Aurora can say she’s okay with it all she wants but you never really know until that child becomes yours to take care of every single day. 

If she really wanted to do this with him, if they were to continue like this and things were going to go really well down the line...eventually she’d be more involved with his daughter. He didn’t want to put either Rory or Sabiha in a position to feel uncomfortable, pressured, or overwhelmed. 

“Sabiha is my world but she is also a bigger responsibility than you can imagine. And I dot say that to patronize you.” Reza brushed the back of her hand against his cheek and held it between his cheek and his hand. “I mean you just really don’t know until you’re raising a child.”

 And he knew the second Sabiha knew that Baba and Auntie Rora were involved, Sabiha would steamroll over his caution tape and jump right into claiming Aurora as some sort of mother figure. He needed to be sure Rory was ready to deal with that before Sabiha could know. 

AURORA

This conversation was going much better than last time, Aurora thought to herself. Didn't hurt that this time it was a warning, instead of a rejection. Or that he was looking at her and touching her instead of sitting on the opposite side of the couch and the world, drinking like it would make her go away.

She turned her hand in his grasp so she could cup his cheek. "I know," she said. "I mean, I know I don't know. But I want that."

Aurora felt obscenely young all of a sudden considering she was rapidly approaching 30, and it was suddenly the most important thing in the world that he understood. She sighed, informing him as she scooted off his lap and back onto the bed "I'm going to talk about babies and marriage for a second here so don't freak out, but I need you to understand." She curled up against his side and sighed, hands clasped together.

"I've always wanted a family," she told her knees. "It's lame and silly but for as long as I can remember I've dreamed of falling in love and getting married and having half a dozen kids to shower in love. And after Carabosse, I had to put all of my dreams away. I… no one wanted a wife who was broken. The only time I got close was practically arranged and it took me far too long to end it. And now I'm here. None of this is like what I imagined, but it's real and it's a disaster and it's beautiful and I love it. I love her. When we were apart it felt like I was missing a limb. And I have no idea what it's like to be any kind of mom to anyone. But I want to. For her. For you."

She finally glanced up at him with a shy smile. "So it's not a burden. It's just something new I need to learn. If you're willing to teach me."

 REZA

A part of him wanted to, as the kids say, yeet out the room. Aurora didn’t say anything wrong, but she was saying things that made it all the more clear to him that he was in the unique position to truly break Aurora’s heart. If Aurora was talking about how he was someone she wanted to raise children with...god, she was in too deep.

And maybe part of him felt the same way, but maybe it didn’t, and he couldn’t just nod and say ‘yes, I’ll teach you’ if he’s not sure he really truly means it.

Sabiha, also, has already had one woman walk out on being her mother and Rafika was her actual biological mother. Reza wasn’t entirely sure he had a heart to protect, but his daughter was another story. His daughter was what was important here and it was because of Sabiha that he was so careful.

“So you understand why I’m being so careful about what she knows and when she knows it.” Reza said. “Sabiha would never forgive me if I let someone else break her heart like Rafika did. And I just want to examine things another minute longer.”

“I don’t think it would be very fair to you to...say I want to move forward and then make you keep a polite distance from her any longer, if you aren’t exaggerating about how you feel about her. So I- I just need a little more time to be sure it’s right. For me, but mostly for her.”

He and Aurora both knew his answer, he was sure she could physically see the warmth all over his chest, but he still felt waiting just a little bit longer was the right move. What if these feelings were fleeting and it was him who hastily broke things off and broke Sabiha’s - and Aurora’s - heart? No, he’d rather push back the inevitable just another week, another sixteen, seventeen days, just to be sure this was going to stick. 

AURORA

For a moment, Aurora was sure she had said something wrong. She'd seen the flash-in-the-pan panic in his eyes and almost wanted to laugh and say 'psych' just to make it go away. But that would be an insult to both of them, so she just sat quietly and waited. Was it so weird that she'd thought about wanting a family with him? They had been a regular part of each other's lives for two years now, she knew what she was signing up for. Did she want to pressure him, of course not!

But he deserved to know what she was willing to offer before he made any decision.

"I'm not in a rush," she told him softly. "About anything. I know nothing is set in stone. Except for the fact that you are kind of my best friend and stuck with me regardless," she joked. "Think I proved that over the past year if nothing else."

Aurora stood up in front of Reza, petting back his hair with both hands before giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Take your time," she murmured, giving him a smile and a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. "I'm gonna clean up real fast before Lamia runs out of distractions and meet you downstairs, okay?"

REZA

“Yeah, I think one way or another, I’m stuck with you, huh?” He said affectionately as she stood up.

There were worse people to be bound to for life, anyway. Short apprentices with Scottish accents weren’t even near the top fifty worst. Maybe in the top fifty-thousand, only because he barely understood a word that came out of her Terminally Scottish father’s mouth. He was not looking forward to probably permanently being linked to Stefan, but hey, at least he was...nice. He thinks. Again, too Scottish. Can’t understand.

“Mm, I’d better keep her distracted long enough for that. I’ll see you in a bit. If Fadela’s not started breakfast I’ll think of something; take your time up here.”

[cobaincreates]

simple sentence

warnings: f l u f f i want this so bad

count: 3.2k

bless tany for this gif

kinda feeling this song for them, not entirely sure but check it out!

— — —

your heart was racing as you plopped down in your chair and searched for something to drink. you needed to catch your breath as everyone else danced on the floor in the center of the banquet hall. it was getting warmer and warmer so you started to fan yourself with your hand. you sipped the glass of champagne you thanked a waiter for and looked toward the large mass of family enjoying their time. it made the brightest grin spread on your face as you trained your eyes on a particular husband dancing with two little nephews of yours.

joe had taken his suit jacket off and draped it over the chair beside you about two hours ago. he hadn’t stopped dancing yet. you really couldn’t blame him, the wedding playlist was a whole soundtrack of your teenage years. you knew every word to every song that played through the speakers. joe seemed to have new moves for every song too.

your eyes lit up when he caught your gaze and he couldn’t help but grin. he said something to his nephews and they ran off to someone else before joe turned toward you and made his way out of the crowd.

“you know my sister will not be happy when she sees you sitting down,” joe reminded you.

“i just needed a breather,” you said and held out your hand for him to take as he was a couple steps away.

he sat down in his chair and leaned over to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “you okay?”

“yes, i’m okay.”

your cheeks were starting to ache from smiling so much at him. you always found yourself doing so whenever your eyes were on him, and it wasn’t just the champagne from tonight. even when your eyes weren’t on him and he popped into your head, you’d be grinning endlessly. your chest would feel like it was ready to burst just at the mention of his name.

joe kept your hand in his lap while he picked up his untouched glass of water and took a long sip. dinner was long over, but your stomach growled for something to eat. you hadn’t had much throughout the day before the ceremony and you managed to fill yourself up on the nicely made dinner, but it must not have been enough.

“oh, we’re so going back out there,” joe groaned as a new song played. neither of you could resist it, so you let him pull you up and back toward the floor happily.

the words were already on your tongue as joe took your other hand and moved his shoulders in a shimmy. you both moved to the beat and sang the words to one another, all the while having fun with it. a few of joe’s cousins moved closer to you two and joined in as they jumped around. there was one moment where you grabbed onto joe’s tie to pull him closer, then immediately laughed. he enjoyed it much more than you thought and kept his hands attached to your hips.

you had belted out the lyrics so loudly, you throat felt a bit raw by the time another song came on. joe hugged you around your waist and you felt thankful for a slow song finally. your legs needed another break.

“you look beautiful.”

“you’ve told me a few times tonight already.” you cupped joe’s cheek and leaned toward him for a kiss. you were then interrupted by a tug at your dress and you looked down to find your nephews fighting each other over who got to dance with you. it surprised you that they weren’t tired yet. you moved away from joe and bent down to their height to help them figure it out. “how about we all hold hands so both of you can dance with me?” you suggested and that seemed to be doable to them as they nodded.

joe left you to dance with them and you swayed from side to side while holding their hands. as you watched the little ones below you, you couldn’t help the overwhelming sensation that came over you. a simple thought had passed by in your head and now it was all you could think about. it didn’t make your soft smile falter however, which was a good thing as you thought about it more. you then looked up and searched through the room for joe. you found him sitting at the table, watching you with a look of adoration. his head was against his hand and he looked tired from the night’s activities.

when the song ended, you let the boys run off before you went over to joe. he reached out and stroked the material of your silky dress when you stood in front of him.

“ready to go home?” your stomach flipped as he looked up at you. you hadn’t had nerves around him in years, not since you were teenagers. but you knew that it was because of your small realization. you couldn’t bring it up with him now though, it wasn’t the right time.

joe nodded and you both grabbed your things before saying goodnight to the whole family, and the bride and groom. your nephews were sad to see you both go, but you promised them you’d have them over soon for a movie night.

the air was chilly as you walked outside toward joe’s car parked the furthest away and still heard the celebration going on inside. joe’s arm was wrapped around your waist loosely after he draped his jacket over your shoulders. once you got into the car and he started it with a bit of heat coming on, he turned to you.

“think we can stop somewhere for food?”

“took the words right outta my mouth,” you commented and gave him a nod.

joe wasn’t inebriated in the slightest, having paced himself through the night knowing that he was going to be the one to bring you both home safely. there had been plenty of nights you shared where you switched off on who would be the designated driver and each night was always something new. this one, you both were just hungry and ready to eat the worst possible food imaginable.

joe stopped at a mcdonald’s, pulling up to the drive-thru. there was only only other car for this time of night and you both took a look over the menu as you decided what to get.

“think they have champagne?” you wondered aloud. the taste still lingered on your tongue.

joe turned to you with a laugh and shook his head. “i don’t think so, bub.”

“i bet they’d get a lot more customers if they did.”

he nodded his head with a grin as he moved to car up to order. he asked for a big mac and a medium fry for you both to share, along with a cup of coke. you leaned over the console to order yourself, which was unusual since you normally told joe what you wanted beforehand. first, you asked why they didn’t have champagne, earning an awkward chuckle from the worker behind the bright screen. joe laughed and apologized on your behalf, which you ignored as you said what you wanted to eat.

joe parked the car in an empty spot once you two had gotten a bag full of burgers and fries. you dove straight for the fries, smacking joe’s hand playfully when he tried to reach in for his burger.

“you’re an animal,” he chuckled.

“no, i’m just hungry.”

you both took your respective burgers out of the bag and opened them up in your laps to start eating. joe set the fries on the center console between you and your first bite tasted better than you thought. normally you didn’t eat mcdonald’s, but after all the champagne you had over the last few hours, it tasted like heaven.

“did you have fun tonight?” joe asked as he sipped his drink. you held out your hand for it when he was done and took a quick sip. it was big enough for you to share one and you just liked to share things with him.

“of course. i’m so happy. it was such a nice wedding. she looked so beautiful.” you sighed, remembering how joe’s cousin had walked into the church all decked out in her long flowing dress and her hair and makeup all done for the special day. all day you had spent gushing over how perfect she looked. “god, remember when that was us?”

“i do, yes.”

“i miss that day. that was the best day ever. can we go back?”

“maybe we can just have another one?”

“oh, no. that’d be a nightmare.” you shook your head fast.

“why?” he laughed mid bite.

“do you know how stressed i was? i was freaking out thinking you’d get cold feet or i’d get cold feet. i thought i was going to throw up or fart or something during our vows.” joe cracked up, throwing his head back in laughter. you really were so nervous that day. you had thought so many times of how you wouldn’t blame him if he got cold feet and left you. but you were really glad he didn’t. “i was scared shitless. i don’t want to go through that again. i just want to relive it.”

“that’s kind of the same thing, bub.”

“no, it’s not.”

“it is, but you’re right.”

you giggled at his agreement with you and continued to eat your late night pit stop snacks in silence. you looked over at him a few times and reveled in the moment of how you two were dressed, having just come from a wedding and we’re now in a parking lot of mcdonald’s. you felt like a teenager again, always on some kind of adventure with him.

“love you.” you cooed after a few moments, chewing on the last bit of your burger.

joe smiled and met you halfway to peck your lips quickly. he then brought out his phone from his pocket and turned in his seat as he tapped through the screen. “hold up the bag for me and smile.”

“i have food in my mouth.”

“and yet you’re still talking with a mouth full.” he teased.

“oops, sorry.” you muttered and covered your mouth for a moment as you chewed the rest quickly. “wait, wait!” you shouted when the flash startled you, making joe laugh. “okay, now redo.” you held up the bag and smiled sweetly as you showed it off, joe’s jacket still draped over your shoulders. you closed your eyes since you always hated the flash on the phones since they were so damn bright and nearly blinded you every time.

once the photo was taken, you leaned over the console and put your cheek against joe’s shoulder to watch him type out a quick caption. it always made you smile and freak out a little when he’d post photos of you online— still to this day.

“post wedding snack with this one. she’s pretty upset that mcdonald’s doesn’t serve champagne and i’m pretty upset at how pretty she is,” he wrote and posted the photo.

“aw,” you cooed and shoved a couple fries in your mouth.

once everything was gone and thrown out, joe drove you two home in the quiet. there were hardly any other cars out at this time of night and you were starting to feel tiredness seep in. joe’s thumb was rubbing against yours in your lap and you’d close your eyes every so often as the engine hummed below you. your realization from earlier came to mind and you so badly wanted to say something. before you could, joe was pulling his hand away to find the garage opener.

the house greeted you warmly when you walked inside and you instantly kicked your shoes off, sighing at the sudden relief. you hadn’t really noticed it all through the night, but you could go for a massage.

both you and joe made your way through the house and toward your bedroom so you could change into your pajamas. you hung joe’s jacket back up in the closet and went into the bathroom to wash your face and pull your hair up in a ponytail. you brushed your teeth then walked out to find joe not in the bedroom. you pulled your dress off along with your bra and replaced it with one of joe’s old t-shirts.

joe was in the kitchen drinking a glass of water with just a pair of sweatpants on. you smiled as you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, giving his back a kiss.

“lookin’ good, hot stuff.” you commented as you moved around him to get yourself a glass. this was normally what the two of you did before bed, you both downed a glass of water.

“i could say the same about you.” he pulled you against his side with a smirk. “you come here often?”

you laughed and nodded up at him. “i live here actually. with my husband. he should be home any minute.”

“why don’t we ditch this popsicle stand and leave him in the dust? i think you’ll have a fun time with me.”

“oh, really? i don’t know he’s got some killer dance moves that nobody’s ever seen.”

“i promise you mine are better than some foot shuffles and flailing arms.”

“care to enlighten me then? before he gets home, of course.”

“i’d be happy to.” he took your hand into his and pulled you toward the bedroom. you brought your glasses with you and laid over the covers to get ready for the little show. “give me a good one,” joe pointed at you as you scrolled through your phone for a song to play.

you couldn’t resist the giant smile that came onto your face as the song played and joe started moving his hips. your stomach was aching by the time the first minute got through and you were glad you had set the glass down on the bedside table. your eyes were watery when the song finished and joe was done moving around the room and making the most of the space he was given.

“how’d i do?” he breathed heavily, leaning himself against the edge of the mattress.

“very impressive,” you wiped at your eyes. “maybe you can teach that to my husband when he gets home.”

joe grinned and jumped onto the bed to hover over you for a kiss. you cupped his face and placed your lips over his, pecking him a couple times as he made himself comfortable on you. he placed his head over your chest as he calmed down from his dance routine. you softly brushed through his hair as he laid there and you both felt closer to falling asleep. but that little thought came back to you and wouldn’t stop nagging until you spit it out.

“hey you,” you said softly and touched his cheek.

“hey me,” he replied with a quick peck to your palm.

“i have to tell you something.”

the nerves spiked in your stomach as he lifted his head with intrigue written all over his face. you smiled softly at him, watching him closely as he moved and looked all around your face.

“okay. tell away.”

you breathed deeply as he set his chin on the center of your chest. you bit your lips anxiously as he waited for you and you were so close to convincing yourself to just say anything else. but you knew if you didn’t get it out now, you’d regret it. and how could you look into those beautiful eyes and not say what you wanted to? joe always made you feel that you could tell him anything, so why stop now?

you licked your lips and touched his other cheek, stroking the stubble lightly. joe had grown anxious while waiting for you and his eyebrows were now set deeper into his forehead. you finally said to hell with it and pushed it out of yourself.

“i want to have a baby with you.”

the lack of sudden response had you on edge, but you knew it was a big step. of course it was always a thought in your relationship from the moment you made a commitment, but neither of you had spent too much time talking about it. you knew joe wanted kids someday and you always saw that during every moment he spent with his nephews. tonight it was different when you watched them while you were dancing. that desire washed over you so quickly and set so deeply into your bones. even just the thought had you choking up from excitement. so many thoughts and images ran through your head of a little family you’d make with your husband. you were finally ready for that.

“are you serious?” joe asked slowly and sat up on the other side of the bed. you weren’t sure if he was excited or scared shitless.

you nodded with a laugh and sat up too. the excitement closed your throat up again. he’d be a beautiful father. “i think we’ve put it off long enough, don’t you? we’ve been together, what? five years now?”

joe watched you closely as you spoke, shocked and not knowing what the hell to say. it was obvious he had been waiting for this moment forever and now that it was here, he didn’t know how to react.

“you’d be the best dad in the whole world.” his throat tightened at the comment and you put your hand over his when you saw the little twitch in his face. “i can see it when you’re with your nephews and how much you focus on them and what they need and you’re always trying to please them while also being the fun uncle. you have so much love in there, joe, it’s crazy,” you laughed and put a hand over his chest.

you waited a moment to see if he had anything to say and when he didn’t, you went on. “frankly, it freaks me out sometimes,” you admitted. “how is it possible to have so much?”

joe’s eyes had glossed over now and your heart sunk at the sight. he wasn’t somber and you weren’t making him upset. his chest was just filling with that same kind of love.

“i can see it whenever you look at me and i want our tiny little human to feel that too. i want to have a baby with you, joseph.”

joe broke his frozen position and kissed you deeply, holding the back of your head. you couldn’t help but grin against him, your hand moving from his chest to cup his cheek.

“you’re amazing, you know that?”

“i love you so much.”

he pulled you back in and this time kissed you passionately, breathing deeply. his throat was starting to relax now as the excitement set in even though he still couldn’t believe everything you said. he never thought he’d cry over the fact of you saying those words to him, but here he was having shed a few tears.

“when can we start?” he pulled away for a moment, his breath hot on your face.

“right now,” you grinned.

[searchforthescars]

Litany - Ch. 12/12

IT’S FINALLY HERE BABEY

okay pls stick around until the end bc I talk about Things and get sappy about this fic but @bombshellsandbluebells thank you thank you for editing this and loving this and not judging me for flinging chapters that only make a little sense into the void (this is what I get for not doing an outline lmao). I’m v blessed to have you in my life

@maelidpoetree , @sarcasticdebate , you guys have written such LOVELY reviews that I still re-read and get emotional about to this day. Thank you for that, and also for convincing me to not delete Litany those two times. Much much much love

And to everyone else who has loved, read, MADE PLAYLISTS AND EDITS FOR (omg) and supported this fic, thank you. I’m always astounded at the responses to things I write. It’s humbling. <3

(the fic is also on ao3)

I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together. We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . . When I say this, it should mean laughter, not poison. I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.

Emori’s glass ornament catches the light from her window and casts beams of cool sunshine in fractures on the hallway wall. Murphy follows those beams to her doorway late on Christmas morning.

He watches as her smaller fingers caress the small delicate etchings there and smiles when he sees the fingers on her larger hand peeking out from the sleeve of her red and green sweater. She doesn’t cover it that often now, and he’s glad; his deep affection for the appendage has never wavered, and he likes seeing it out in the open every now and again, a sign of the comfort she’s found here.

Murphy watches her for another moment before knocking on her open door. She turns. Her hair is messy. She’s wearing the most hideous Christmas sweater he’s ever seen - bright red and green with tiny ornaments hooked into the neckline. He doesn’t have to touch her skin to know it’s warm, from both sleep and sun, and maybe some excitement too, if her flushed cheeks are telling the truth.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly, a hesitant smile wrinkling the corner of her mouth. “Like my sweater?”

Murphy can’t help but laugh. “It’s...something.”

“Jasper gave it to me,” she says by way of explanation. “He, Monty and Octavia have matching ones.”

“Of course they do,” he grumbles, imagining the look on Raven’s face when she sees, and how Bellamy’s probably going to bust a nut. He must smirk at the thought, because Emori snorts and gives him a tiny smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. Her hair swishes around her face, and a few strands of it catch on the ornaments on her neckline. “Damn, that’s going to get annoying.”

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching for her hair at the same time she does. Her hands fall back into place as she lets him smooth the hair back.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up again. He thinks about saying thought that was my move, but bites his tongue, knowing he might get sucker-punched for it. He’s still not sure where they stand with one another, not after what he did and said, or after their small reconciliation the day after Thanksgiving.

She grins up at him, and suddenly it doesn’t matter. “Hey,” she says conspiratorially, “want to pull a prank?”

Of course he does.

They sneak downstairs and quietly divest the space under the tree of every gift underneath. They hide each wrapped package somewhere in the house; the more obscure, the better. Murphy is immensely proud of himself for thinking to hide his gift to Bellamy on the roof, right behind the chimney, and Raven’s in the oven.

“I hid Monty’s inside the couch,” Emori whispers to him as they scamper back up the stairs. Her eyes are shining with mischief. Murphy wonders if she ever pranked Otan. He also wonders if she’s ever had a Christmas the “traditional” way, but can’t think of a way to ask that wouldn’t be rude. Hey, at least he cares. It’s a start.

They stay in his room until the house wakes up. She walks around and reads the papers on his walls; he sits in his desk chair and watches her move carefully around the small space. Strands of her hair stick to the fuzz of her sweater. She looks warm; she radiates happiness. It’s a good look on her.

He shakes himself out of his snappiness just in time for Octavia’s door to bang open. “Merry Christmas, bitches!” she shouts, yelping as Lexa groans and probably throws something at her head. “Let’s get this bread!”

“Let’s get this- what?” Emori asks, adorably confused.

Murphy laughs and stands up. “Don’t ask. Come on, let’s go see the fruits of our labor.”

They make it downstairs just in time to hear the crunching of Bellamy’s tires on the snow outside and the roar of Zeke’s motorcycle. Murphy holds up one hand, counting down from five on his fingers. When he gets to one, Emori grins as Bellamy hollers, “What the hell?!”

“Nailed it,” Emori singsongs. Murphy snorts.

The door bangs open and Bellamy sticks his head in. “You put my present on the damn roof?!” he shouts.

Murphy grins impishly. “What makes you think it was me?”

Raven opens the oven door, then throws her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously, Murphy? Again?”

“It was my idea,” Emori says, her eyes laughing but her face straight. Raven rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile there that tells Murphy she’s just glad the two of them are working together on something.

Murphy snorts as Monty jumps up to retrieve a package hidden atop the microwave. Emori blinks at him. “Wait… Raven said ‘again’...”

“Oh yeah.” Murphy tilts his head and smiles. “I may or may not have done this last year.”

Emori smirks. “And here I thought I was original.”

Bellamy stomps into the kitchen, tracking snow on the tile. Raven squawks and swats him with a kitchen towel, but he ignores her. “Whatever this is,” he says, holding a damp package aloft, “I don’t want it.”

“You say that now,” Emori singsongs, then leans over to whisper in Murphy’s ear, “It’s a book. He’s going to love it. And I wrapped it in plastic, anyway.”

Bellamy peels off said plastic and drops it in the sink. As Jasper, Monty, Octavia and Lexa clatter down the stairs, he rips off the soggy paper and gives Emori a soft smile. “Thank you,” he says, holding the book up so she can see the cover, even though she’s the one who gave it to him. “I love it.”

Murphy’s heart warms when Emori grins. “I knew it!” she cheers to herself quietly, pumping her fist, a gesture no doubt learned from Monty.

The rest of the house starts ripping into presents too; Raven throws the crow-printed socks Murphy gave her at his head, Lexa races to the kitchen to pour orange juice into her “Classy, Sassy and a Little Smart-Assy” mug from Octavia, and Emori wraps herself up in the massive knitted scarf Murphy found at a street market in the city.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten, John,” she says, her smile as warm as the wool wrapped around her neck. “Thank you.”

Murphy’s heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest. “You’re welcome.”

When she leans forward to peck him on the cheek, he flinches forward and to the side ever-so-slightly and their lips touch for a brief moment. Monty wolf-whistles and Jasper cheers while Emori covers her mouth with her smaller hand and blinks shyly at him.

“I’m sorry-“ he stammers, but Emori leans forward again, throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Oh.”

“Get it, J!” Raven yells while Lexa groans something about straight people being unable to control themselves.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Emori whispers. She gets to her feet, scarf still wrapped around her shoulders, and pads to the kitchen in search of coffee, leaving a stunned Murphy and his delighted friends behind.

Breakfast and lunch are haphazard affairs since everyone agreed they’d rather save room for the massive dinner Bellamy, Murphy and Zeke are preparing. Zeke shows up around noon, bearing bags full of groceries and presents. Luna follows him a moment later, Costia in tow. Lexa looks delighted, if not a little terrified, to see her surrogate older sister commiserating with her girlfriend.

“Relax,” Murphy tells her. “This could end really well for you.”

“Or really poorly,” Lexa mutters, eyeing Luna. “Luna’s a straight shooter. She could scare Cos away if she doesn’t approve.”

“My kind of woman,” Murphy remarks, yelping when Raven smacks him upside the head. “Ow?!”

“Your kind of woman is over there, and she’s the jealous type,” Raven says, pointing a thumb at Emori, who’s standing on the kitchen counter, digging around in the cabinet.

“Not jealous,” Emori calls over her shoulder, “Just possessive.”

Lexa wiggles her eyebrows. Raven rolls her eyes, and Luna laughs into her coffee cup.

Bellamy starts to get agitated around three when the roast for dinner isn’t cooking right. Murphy tries to help - it is his crockpot, after all - but quickly gets derailed when he realizes the kitchen is not big enough for all three cooks.

“Sorry, man,” he says to Zeke, whose efforts to shimmy behind Murphy failed after Murphy stepped back, almost whacking Raven’s almost-boyfriend in the head in the process.

“Oh no, no, you’re fine,” Zeke says, quick-stepping over Bellamy’s leg and putting a pan on the counter.

“What did you just say?” Raven calls from the living room, where she’s trying to install the new coding software Bellamy got her for Christmas.

“I said he was fine,” Zeke says.

“How Midwestern of you,” Costia remarks drily.

Zeke raises an eyebrow at her. “How did you know?”

“It’s easy to tell,” she says. “You say words funny.”

Raven hoots. Zeke groans and disappears into Raven’s room, where they’re storing all their coats. After a moment, Raven goes to join him.

“Have fun, Reyes,” Murphy calls after her.

“Fuck straight off, Murphy,” she replies. Emori whistles. When her eyes meet Murphy’s, she stands up.

“John, I forgot to give you your card,” she says. Murphy carefully picks his way across the crowded kitchen and dining room to reach her. She hands him a small envelope, then disappears upstairs before he can even break the seal.

The card’s printed sentiment is lame, but her written words aren’t. To his surprise and embarrassment, Murphy can’t help but blink back some tears as he reads. If anyone notices, they know better than to comment.

John,

Christmas is supposed to be a time for family, but my family isn’t here this year. I thought I would be heartbroken, but I’m not. You are my family, and so is Raven and everyone else. I’m not good at this sappy shit - clearly, since I wrote a swear word in a Christmas card - but I’m going to try.

When I answered Raven’s ad, I had no idea the love and safety you all would bring into my life. Thank you for your part in that. Thank you for loving me how you are able to, and thank you for trying to love me better by loving yourself. I see you, and I love you.

Merry Christmas, John. Never forget how loved you are, by me and everyone else.

-Em

During dinner, they sit at the dining room table and on the floor in the living room, spreading their Christmas Eve feast over end tables and folding chairs that no one wants to sit on for some reason. Murphy sits at the table elbow-to-elbow with Raven and Emori; Zeke and Bellamy sit across from them. Monty, Jasper, Lexa, Octavia and Costia sprawl on the floor, while Luna and Echo take over the couch. Raven tries to play music two separate times - “It’s for the Ambiance,” Octavia says, and Murphy just knows the capital A is implied -  but the noise coming from all corners of the house renders that effort more chaotic than mood-setting.

Murphy keeps sneaking glances at Emori. Her eyes shine with excitement and delight as she takes a massive serving of Zeke’s now-famous corn casserole. She grins when Raven starts roasting Bellamy for only getting books for Christmas. She even smiles at Murphy once or twice, which sends his heart rate through the ceiling.

Echo finishes first and starts in on the dishes. Bellamy follows, brushing her shoulder with his hand as he leans past her to start drying plates. Murphy watches them over his shoulder, the confidence in their movements, the ease with which they exist in one another’s space. When he turns back to face the table, he locks eyes with Emori and sees his longing and jealousy mirrored there.

Time slows down in the moments between clearing his plate and ending up in Emori’s room. Somehow he ends up at her bedroom door looking at her back, braced against the window frame, her legs swinging over the window’s edge, hair blowing in the cold West Virginia wind. It’s a mirror of this morning’s moment, or maybe an inversion, since her back is to him in this instance, though her face is turned upward.

“I never had a Christmas like this,” he hears her say to the wind. He steps inside her room but doesn’t shut the door. “With people and presents and noise and happiness.”

“Was it- Did you like it?” He winces at his own verbal ineptitude.

She nods, sniffs and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes glitter in the pale light from the hall. “Come sit with me,” she says softly, beckoning with her smaller hand.

When he’s comfortably seated with his head leaning against the window frame, his body snug between it and Emori’s legs, she rests her forehead on his shoulder and speaks to his upper arm. “I miss you.”

The distance between him is his own doing. The ache in his chest is, too. “I’m sorry.”

How do I cross the line between us? he wants to ask, but doesn’t want to come off either dramatic or desperate, even though he is both, just by nature.

“Thank you for your card,” he says softly. He turns, rests his chin atop her head, and resists the urge to press a kiss atop it. “It meant a lot.”

“I meant it.” Her voice is muffled. She doesn’t look up at him, but he can feel the wrinkle of her forehead through his sweater.

“You okay?”

She lifts her head. There’s a look in her eyes, equal parts caged animal and hesitant human. “If I let you in, you can’t hurt me. I won’t let you.”

Murphy takes a deep breath. Here, on his side of the drawn line, there is everything he is ashamed of. On her side, there is the smile in her voice when she speaks to him and the soft way she says his given name.

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you,” he says slowly. “But I won’t try to.”

Emori smiles, sudden and blinding. She turns to face him, shifting so she’s straddling the windowsill. The ornaments on her God-awful sweater glint and tap together as she moves.

“Okay.” She kisses him on the cheek, then the nose. He grins. “Let’s start over.”

Murphy leans forward and presses his lips to hers, a proper kiss this time. When she laughs against his mouth, his chest expands. Then he’s the one who laughs as he remembers a line from a particular Christmas movie.

“What?” she asks, pulling away. And then Raven’s voice sounds from the doorway, where she’s leaning against the frame, looking as self-satisfied as he’s ever seen her.

“‘And the Grinch’s small heart’,” she quotes dramatically, a shit-eating grin wide on her face, “‘grew three sizes that day’.”

Emori howls with laughter. The foot dangling from the window kicks in the air. Murphy reaches for the nearest pillow near the foot of Emori’s bed and chucks it at Raven, who shrieks and limps downstairs. Murphy catches up to her by sliding down the bannister and tosses the couch’s blanket over her head, then proceeds to tickle her in the stomach until she goes to her knees, laughing and wheezing and pushing a worried Zeke away.

Murphy looks up after pulling the blanket off Raven’s head and locks eyes with Emori, who hovers at the top of the stairs, one hand on the bannister, one hand on the first step down. It’s a mirror of a moment during her first day at home: her hesitant eyes, Murphy and Raven on the couch, his nonchalant “you can come down.”

An invitation, he thinks. A request, maybe, and certainly an assurance that no matter where he is, she belongs. That no matter where she is, he is wanted.

“You can come down,” he says to her quietly. She takes a step down. Behind him, Zeke helps Raven to her feet.

“You can come down,” Murphy says to her again, remembering waiting at the bottom of the stairs on their first date, awestruck at her beautiful dress and the warmth in her cheeks.

Emori’s feet hit the floor beside him. She slings her arm around his shoulder and he reaches up to play with the long fingers of her left hand. While watching Monty, Raven and Zeke make a nest on the couch to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, Murphy presses a kiss to every part of her hand he can reach.

“Dear Forgiveness,” he hears her murmur, almost to herself, in that casual, thoughtful way, “I saved a place for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.”

She kisses him on the cheek, disentangles herself from him, and goes to sit beside Raven, squealing when the other girl’s cold feet make contact with her bare ankles. Murphy watches them all, lit by the kitchen light and the glow of the TV, and wonders if it’s possible for a heart to break from happiness.

If it is, he supposes, as he leans his forearms against the couch inches from Raven’s head, he’ll gladly handle this kind of heartbreak now until forever.

Yeet yeet babey we did it

The end of this story is bittersweet for me in a strange way. I started writing Litany during a time in my life where I was not doing well, mentally, physically or emotionally. This story became a strange form of catharsis, a way for me to access the dark things in me and process them through the eyes of a character who resembles me in ways I'd rather not think about.

As Murphy and Emori learned and grew and recovered, I tried to do the same. Clearly, I'm not there yet (as evidenced by the two times I almost deleted this fic on a self-destructive whim). But there's always hope as long as you learn how to forgive yourself.

If you're dealing with stuff like this, please talk to someone. A parent, a teacher, a friend, a therapist, someone. My asks on Tumblr are always open (my Tumblr name is the same as here). We all need a Raven, an Emori, a Bellamy and a Luna sometimes.

Thanks for reading this. I hope you liked it. I'll see you soon, never fear :)

Much love, Amanda

[theemightypen]

eothiriel and “Is that my shirt?”

He’s just managed to curl himself comfortably around Lothiriel, pressing his nose into her sweet-smelling hair. She gives a contented sigh, likely as pleasantly drowsy and sated as he is–or at least Eomer hopes so.

“Mm,” she hums, “this is nice.”

“Just nice?” Eomer asks, playfully nipping at the shell of her ear.

“Very nice,” Lothiriel corrects.

And it is–this is the first time they’ve dared to stay in the same room during the weird-but-nice family and friends vacation Aragorn and Arwen have put together. No one, except maybe Faramir, who always seems to know everything, suspects that they’re a couple. They both prefer it that way, at least for now.

Though it does, obviously, make the urge to kiss casually or hold hands or do any of the things they normally would when not surrounded by their meddling friends somewhat inconvenient. But right now, in the dark, cool pleasantness of Lothiriel’s room, there’s no need for secrecy. So Eomer presses another sleepy kiss to Lothiriel’s shoulder. She sighs again, threading her fingers through his.

“Good night,” she murmurs, voice gone soft and thick with tiredness.

“Night, sweetheart,” he answers.

Lothiriel’s breathing evens out fairly quickly. Eomer smiles to himself; he’s never known anyone else who can slip into sleep as easily as her.

He’s nearly asleep himself when a sudden beeping erupts from the direction of the kitchen.

No, Eomer thinks, surely not.

It surely is, because the beeping is quickly accompanied by loud–and impressive–cursing in Sindarin. And in Rohirric, in a distinctly familiar, female voice.

“WAKE UP!” Cries Amrothos. “EOWYN’S GONE AND SET THE KITCHEN ON FIRE!”

Groaning, Eomer untangles himself from Lothiriel, who is blinking herself awake, looking adorably confused.

“I think our siblings might have just lost Aragorn the deposit on the house,” he grumbles, pulling on his pajama bottoms and groping around for his grey t-shirt. Lothiriel plucks it off the lamp nearest her with a sheepish grin and passes it over.

“That’s unfortunate,” she agrees, shimmying into her own pajama bottoms and shirt. “Should I go first or…?”

“I don’t think they’ll notice where we’re coming from in the chaos,” Eomer says.

He’s right–every light in the house has been flipped on while they got dressed, and the sound of voices has reached a new, frantic pitch. Aragorn has found the fire extinguisher, it would seem, and he and Boromir have bravely attacked what resembles a formerly frozen pizza, charred to oblivion on a baking tray.

“Oh, Eowyn,” he groans.

“It was not,” his sister hisses, sticking her finger in his face, “me.”

“Oh, yes, blame the man with third degree burns instead,” whines Amrothos, “very chivalrous of you, Eowyn–”

“You have a first degree burn, at worst,” Lothiriel says, inspecting the pink skin of her brother’s hand with exasperation. “And I have no doubt it was you behind this, Am.”

“Betrayed by my own sister!” He cries, dramatic as ever. “How shall I live with the pain?”

“By opening the windows to let some fresh air in,” Theodred suggests, rubbing at his eyes wearily. “Bema above, this was supposed to be a nice, relaxing vacation–”

“What’s a vacation with this lot without trouble?” Boromir asks, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Anyways, I think we got the worst of the damage contained.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Eomer says. “I haven’t spotted Arwen yet. I’m sure she’ll have something to say about this late night cooking adventure.”

Amrothos pales as the rest of the room chuckles. Eowyn scowls at him, lifting her finger again to jab him in the chest, before blinking–almost comically–in surprise. “Eomer,” she says, slowly, “what on Earth are you wearing?”

It’s Eomer’s turn to blink as eight pairs of eyes turn to him. He looks down, expecting to see the familiar, faded Rohan United lettering of his favorite t-shirt, but instead–

“Is…is that my shirt?” Lothiriel asks in a horrified whisper.

Well, he certainly doesn’t recall buying any crop tops, let alone one that has two middle fingers reading boy, bye on them.

Everyone’s eyes are darting back and forth between them, like some demented game of tennis.

“Why would Eomer being wearing your shirt, Loth?” Boromir asks.

Eomer cycles through a number of excuses: a mix up with laundry, he’d accidentally grabbed the wrong one from one of the beach bags, he’d suddenly acquired a taste for crop tops–

“Oh for–they’re dating,” groans Faramir. “They’ve been dating for months now and doing an admirable job of keeping it from us. Though,” at this, he offers Eomer a truly terrifying smile, “I would love to hear how you were going to explain this away.”

“I–”

“We–”

The room dissolves into chatter–Eowyn is occupied with punching his arm, put out about being kept in the dark, Amrothos is groaning loud enough to rattle the walls about his baby sister not trusting him, while Aragorn, Boromir, and Theodred shuffle a was of bills around, grinning widely.

Arwen appears, suddenly, in the doorway of the hallway. She’s six months pregnant, terrifyingly beautiful even half-awake, and clearly irritated about having to get out of bed.

Aragorn’s smug smirk morphs into a look of guilt rather rapidly. “Ah. We–we solved the problem, melamin, I promise–”

“Good,” she says, softening a little at her husband’s obvious concern, “that means we can all go back to bed.”

Everyone shuffles off rather quickly after that, the ruined pizza banished outside along with most of the burnt smell. Eowyn shoots him a look as they trek down the hall that implies they will be having a very long discussion in the morning. Faramir offers him a wry wink, gently pushing his wife into their room. Lothiriel is still flushed, bright pink, and hides her face away into his chest as soon as he’s shut the door behind them.

“Well, that was mortifying,” she mutters.

Eomer chuckles. “They were going to find out eventually.”

“True,” she agrees, tipping her head back to meet his eyes. Her hands are very, very warm on his lower back and he has to swallow, thickly, when she drags a fingernail along his spine. “And there’s the added bonus of discovering that you look very, very good in a crop top–”

Eomer’s not sure he agrees, but can’t bring himself to mind that she thinks so, really.

(“This is going to become a thing, isn’t it,” Amrothos says grumpily on the beach next day.

“Oh, I do hope so,” Lothiriel says, her hand in Eomer’s and one shoulder bared by the over-large neck of his Rohan United shirt.

“I hope you get terrible tan lines,” he informs Eomer.

Eomer shrugs, pressing a kiss to the back of Lothiriel’s hand and settling more comfortably into the sand. If nothing else, a crop top was proving to provide cover for the evidence of Lothiriel’s…enthusiastic appreciation for it on his shoulders.)

[sunflowerstache]

Not So Bad In L.A

A/N: omg wow okay hi guys! So I’ve been planning and working on this for about 2 weeks now and I am finally ready to post it! This is my first ever chapter to my first ever fic! I really hope you guys send me some feedback as I really want to make this a great story for y'all! This first chapter is kind of more of an informational to y/n’s background, but I promise Harry will make his appearance starting next chapter!

A special thank you so much to these beautiful ladies for the constant encouragement and love! @harrygivenchy @customhucci @loveharryx @bridge-to-terabethia @ultravxl @pinkflowerharry @swayingnoodlelove everyone else from Harry’s Bingo Hall, and @emotionally-imbruised I adore you all!

and a special thanks to @theasstour for being my inspiration and the first ever person to read this fic... love you lots! 

Also, if by any chance you want to be tagged in the next parts, have questions or any suggestions about the fic, just let me know, I love hearing from y'all! okay, love you, please enjoy!

Chapter 1:  She’s Got A Family In Carolina

        January 2017

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist       Fic Masterlist

Next Chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One may think living in the South means constantly wiping beads of sweat from your forehead and the sun always shining, but here you were, freezing your ass off while the rain pelted you in the face. Checking your watch for the third time, you swiftly ran across the street, making sure to wave a quick “thank you” to the cars who let you pass. It had been raining for the past six days in Charleston, and it was easy to tell everyone was beginning to move from irritated to borderline insane from being cooped up inside all day everyday. You pushed open the door to Gnome Cafe and shook the excess rain from your umbrella before making your way over to a table in the corner of the room.

         “Sorry I’m late. I was finishing an episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine.” you shrugged, shimmying out of your pink rain jacket and placing it on the back of your chair.

           “At least tell me it was a good one.” Bri rolled her eyes

           “The whole series is good, what do you mean ‘a good one’?” Sav argued while taking a bite of her salad.

           “The one when Hitchcock drank his fish.” You smiled, knowing it was one of Bri’s favorites, “Thanks for ordering for me.” You mumbled around your sandwich while the three girls around you agreed that it was a decent enough episode to be late to lunch for.

           “Okay, onto actual important things; LA.” Bella gleamed while clapping her hands together.

The Four Whores. That’s the name Isabella- Bella, had dubbed your group way back in the eighth grade. Bella’s mom and your mom had been best friends growing up and had gotten pregnant at the same time, consequently resulting in Bella being your best friend since the day you were born. The two of you had met Brianna – Bri, and Savannah – Sav, shortly after at the start of the sixth grade. From then on, the four of you had been inseparable. Constant sleepovers, sharing clothes, going to prom together, and even winning “Best best friends” in your last year of high school. And finally, after 22 years of living in South Carolina, the four of you had finally signed a lease for an apartment in Los Angeles, California.

           “Yes, okay, so…” putting your food back down on the plate, you leaned over to pull manila envelopes out of your black bag and handed them to the girls, “The leasing office sent over all the last minute extra information about the place and we are officially all set to move next week on January 7th.”

A gaggle of cheers was heard around the table and echoed through the small café, causing other patrons to glare in your direction. The four of you had been waiting for this day for what seemed like forever. Sav and Bri were the first ones to suggest the move about two years ago, as they were both fashion majors and thought L.A would be a great place to start their careers. Bella was fortunate enough to come from a family who had money – cumulatively the family had six Law Firms – so moving around for her wasn’t an issue. Making the move out to L.A was a bit for different story for you. Of course, you wanted nothing more than to pack up and start your life with your best friends, but leaving your family was hard. It was well known that out of the four of you, you were the closest to your family, especially your younger sister, Morgan. She was only 2 years younger than you, having just turned 20, and the two of you were incredibly close. She was the person you told everything to, the person you cuddled with on the couch when watching HGTV, she was just your person. So finally making the decision to move across the country was a hard thing to decide. Slightly shaking your head, you rejoined the girls and discussed plans to ship all your belongings out to California and then the conversations merged into any trips you all had coming up after the move.

           “Speaking of upcoming trips, will you please call Nicholas. He texted me 9 times yesterday asking about his stay.”  Sav laughed, signaling to the waitress for our check.

           “That little shit. He literally just booked the flight on Thursday. There’s like a month before he even gets in.” You laughed, shaking your head

Nicholas Grimshaw. It was definitely the oddest friendship you had made throughout your years in college. You were 19 and had somehow ended up at a party in London 3 years ago that he was attending and the Four Whores – more specifically Bella -- had quickly weaseled your way into the VIP section and made friends with the Brit and his gang. And ever since, even though you only got to see him every so often when he was stateside, or you got to London, you both were extremely close. He had called you up one night, unwilling to tell you the reason for his trip into California, but requesting to spend a couple days with you and the girls since “You won’t even know anyone there at that point. You need me to help you socialize.” So, you spoke to the girls and they all agreed it was time to have a visit from good old St. Nick.

           “Well, call him, he’s getting on my last nerve.”

           “Don’t even get me started on last nerves, mom’s been on my case about this move, so I gotta get home and make sure she isn’t having an aneurism.” Sav’s mom had always been a bit weary of the four of us together and most of the decisions we make, so it was no surprise she was voicing her concerns.

           “Yeah, it’s been a pleasure ladies, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

           “Y/N sitting on the couch doesn’t count as going to work you know.” Bri laughed as you all popped your umbrellas and left the small café.

           “Ha-Ha very funny. For your information, I have a phone interview later and have to get my portfolio together to send them.” Sticking your tongue out, and making the girls laugh with excited variations of “Good Luck!” falling from their lips, you all walked your separate ways, back down the wet, cobblestone, streets of downtown Charleston.

                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “I just can’t believe you’re actually leavin’ me. It’s like you want me to suffer living here alone with mom and dad.” Morgan moaned

           “I do find it quite interesting you didn’t invite Morg to join the lot of you on this new life journey.” A voice piped up

Morgan was laying on her back, with her head hanging off your bed and had been complaining for the past twenty minutes about having to stay home by herself while you moved across the country. Knowing he would always take her side, Morgan facetimed Nick from your laptop and now here you were, packing your room while being harassed by your sister and a friend 4,000 miles away.

           “Okay, I already get enough of that from her Nicholas, I don’t need it from the peanut gallery too. And you do realize you don’t have to stay here, right Morg? You can move on campus literally anytime you want - Do you still have my thigh high boots? The black lace up ones?”

           “Hey, I was pulled away from a perfectly good bottle of wine and my couch for this - not that I mind hun – so don’t yell at me.” He laughed, finishing his glass of red wine

           “Well miss ‘I get paid just to travel’ some of us don’t have- “

           “Ah-Ha! I found them!” you interrupted, pulling your favorite pair of boots from the bottom of your closet

           “Anyways, as I was saying, I’m not payin’ for room and board on top of med school tuition. That shit’s expensive enough as it is.”

           “Just think of all the money you’re gonna make when you’re some big timey doctor with her own practice. You’re gonna blow me, and mom and dad, out of the water, so hush up about how much shit costs. Everyone’s in debt these days, who cares.”

           “Nick would let me move in with him.” She grumbled

           “Woah there love, you know I adore you like my own sister,” The two of them had hit it off from the moment they met, which was the best thing you could have hoped for, “but not enough to take care o’yeh. I wouldn’t know what to do. Like what do you eat?” Nick’s eyes widened at the thought of Morgan moving in with him

           “I’m not a dog Nick. I eat food like every other human.” She laughed, rolling onto her stomach and turning the laptop so she could directly FaceTime with Nick

A few months after your first met in London, Nick had had some time off and decided that he would take a tip into the states before he was needed back at BBC Radio. So, he flew into Charleston after spending some time with friends in Los Angeles and was immediately obsessed with Morgan.  Of course, she knew who he was – thanks to her many years of obsessing over One Direction – and was thrilled to spend time with him. From then on, he looked at her, and treated her, as a younger sister, something you were extremely grateful for, considering how difficult the last two years have been on Morgan.

           “On the topic of royalty,” Nick’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “Don’t make any plans the 28th.” He grinned wickedly as Morgan turned the laptop back to face you sitting on the floor.

           “Bold of you to assume we don’t already have plans that night.”

           “Oh, I know they all do. You’re the one who doesn’t. Bri and Sav will be off doing some fashion thing, and you know Bella will have found a man by then, so she’ll be gone. Which leaves you all by yourself. So, I’m taking you out.” He had hit the nail on the head for your gang.

Savannah and Bri had always been extremely work driven. They knew what they wanted to do since they were young and have been working towards it ever since. Not to say you and Bella weren’t the same way, but the two of you liked to enjoy the slow process of your careers and where they took you instead. And Bella had always been someone who craved affection, so it was no surprise when she had a new boy toy every couple of weeks. None really lasted too long as “they all try really hard to become a serious relationship and I’m just not into that! I’m just a girl with needs!”. You on the other hand, enjoyed spending time at home. You traveled quite often for work so when you got the chance to stay in home and relax, you did just that. And Nick never lets you live it down.

           “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not as much of a hermit as you make me out to be. I just like relaxing when I’m not working.”

           “I don’t care. I already made the plans, and we’re meeting up with other friends of mine, so you can’t back out now.” He shrugged

           “Nick,” You whined, “I don’t need you playing friend matchmaker for us okay. We’re big girls, we can do it on our own.”

           “I’m not doing this for you love. They were already going to be there so we’re just tagging along. “

           “Fine. At least tell me where we’re going?”

           “Not a chance. Los Angeles is the land of the free baby. Anything can happen. And I promise you, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

Nick was many things; a radio host, a loud mouth, a sincere friend, a bit of a light weight, but he was not a liar. And it was clear he wasn’t only talking about the night he had planned for you both. Los Angeles was going to change your life, you just had to buckle in and enjoy the ride.

[planetsam]

STALI + PROM for the promts

They are huddled around each other, whispering frantically. Kali rolls her eyes at the sight of it because honestly. She’s not here for it. She grabs the oj out of the fridge and drinks from the carton because why the hell not. Setting it down she crosses her arms.

“Okay, out with it, who died?” she demands, drawing their eyes to her, “you all look—“ she puts on a face, “so who died. And it better not be one of those dogs or house pets or something.”

“Steve’s dignity,” Mike volunteers.

“I wasn’t aware he had any,” Kali says.

“That’s the problem,” Lucas says, “his ass got dumped, then it got kicked, then it got dumped again. Now it’s prom.”

She raises her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation. This whole thing seems dumb to her. But what does she know? She was too busy surviving to deal with things like high school. Or middle school. Or any school. She sure as hell didn’t have a Mike to go over her vocabulary or think the sun shone out of her ass. She fixes her sister with a look, singling her out for an explanation.

“Prom is—“

“I know what prom is!” she barks, “why do you care who Steve goes with? It’s just a dance.”

“Steve likes to dance.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” she says, dropping the carton back into the fridge. There’s a moment of whispering which she enjoys maybe a little too much before her sister hops forward, “yes?” she asks, like they haven’t been speaking, “can I help you?”

“Steve likes to dance,” she repeats, giving her an earnest look that Kali wants to not find adorable, “you like Steve.”

“I find Steve more tolerable than most,” Kali corrects, “he understands the importance of good hair.”

Her sister huffs out a breath, Kali sees her fingers itch towards the bob she’s now sporting. She rolls her eyes again, making sure her disgust is plain on her face and turns around, ready to walk out of the room. The flurry of whispers makes her pause because she is only human after all, but it gives an opening for one of them to shove the other forward. Mike, the good one she might privately think, opens his mouth but Dustin, the most enthusiastic one, is the one who talks.

“Take Steve to prom.”

“Bold. What makes you think I’ll do that?” she asks.

“You haven’t said no yet,” Dustin tells her.

He’s got her there.

“Look you go, you dance—you have to dance—you have a good time. Then you come back and we never speak of it again. Plus you do something nice for the most tolerable guy and he doesn’t end high school with his heart ripped out and his dignity in a blender.”

Kali raises her eyebrows at him because, honestly, if they want to talk about a loss of dignity she will tell them things. She glances at her sister who gives her a look, a plea that she really doesn’t want to listen to. So she doesn’t, she leaves. That, above and beyond, is the best part of freedom. She doesn’t have to stay in any fucking awkward rooms or situations. That’s pretty spectacular. It doesn’t account for where she goes next though and some parts of her definitely haven’t gotten the freedom message since she winds up seeking out Steve.

“Studying Steve,” she drawls, “whatcha reading?”

“Chemistry,” he says.

If there’s one thing Kali likes, it’s that Steve is accessible. He doesn’t have the sharp brilliance Nancy can cut with, or the haughty genius that Jonathan hides behind. He doesn’t roll his eyes at the fact that she didn’t graduate high school or even go to school. She lays on the desk, rolling her eyes when he gathers her hair and nudges it to the side. He does the same thing when she flops a hand back. Just to be daring she rolls over to see if he’ll move her boob if she lays on his homework. She takes care not to wrinkle it though.

“Kali, is there something you need?” He asks, looking at her.

“Well I have food, a roof, those ankle biters running around,” she lists, gathering up his papers and moving them to the side so she can swing her legs on either side of his chair. He doesn’t get the memo and she plucks the chemistry book from him, marking his place and setting it aside, “so my needs are taken care of.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

“Ask me what I want,” she orders.

Steve swallows visibly and Kali draws a lot of pleasure from that. She’s always been a power hungry thing, even before the lab. Not a glass half full or half empty, but a glass should be how I want it kind of person. Dr. Brenner had called her disagreeable, abrasive. She made his favorite scientist slit his throat in front of him. Normally she’s opposed to any push back, but Steve’s comes with that infuriatingly ingrained goodness she both hates and doesn’t. She can’t reach the chair legs but she does drag her toes up his thigh slowly.

“Ask me,” she repeats, dipping a circle that takes her toes back to his knee before snaking higher.

“What do you want?” He rasps and she rewards that by sliding off the desk, putting her knees on either side of him on he chair and settling her weight on his lap, “Kals–”

She kisses her name off his lips.

She doesn’t need a nickname, it slipped out one night and had stunned her like a slap. It’s not even like the thing is shorter than her actual name. But Steve throws it around casually, slings an arm over her shoulders and it’s like every good summer day wrapped together and pushed into her chest. Needless to say it’s taken time to let him say it so often. Steve presses into the kiss, like he does whenever she initiates. His hands always start out butterfly soft, checking that this and that are okay today. It’s a kindness that slices through her defenses. She doesn’t want soft right now, though. She doesn’t want another argument for the favor the kids asked. So she sinks her teeth into his bottom lip and grinds on him. His fingers dig into the perfect spots on her spinal column and she moans into his mouth.

“Wait, wait–” he rips back, “chemistry–”

She tugs his head back, meeting his gaze. His lips say chemistry, the rest of him doesn’t have that message.

“You’d better work fast then,” she says.

She doesn’t have to twist his arm more than that.

“So, tell me about prom,” she says as he tries to pick the book up and pretend she’s not naked, “who are you going with? How are you doing your hair?”

“You want to know about prom?” Steve repeats. She shrugs. She doesn’t care if it comes off casually or not, honestly once the clothes are off Steve tends to get quite distracted. “I’m not—“

“Don’t say you’re not going,” she orders, “you look like the type whose had his tux picked out for years.”

“As you keep telling me, there’s more to life than high school,” he points out.

“Well I know that,” she says sagely, “but I’m a genius.”

“And I’m just Steve,” he says and she really doesn’t like the resignation in his tone, “who has a chemistry lab report due tomorrow.”

Kali looses her taste for the teasing. The things Steve resigns himself to are baffling. Annoying. She read in a book once that the mirror hurts. Seeing your flaws reflected back at you is never fun. Steve is a mirror if she ever saw one and it pisses her the hell off. She kicks herself up and shimmies into her jeans, throwing her shirt over her head. She leaves her panties on the back of the chair and lets him interpret that as he will.

It’s the end of the story, but not quite.

Kali takes for granted her illusions. They are as natural to her as breathing. When ten prom dress catalogs appear in a stack on the bathroom floor, her head starts throbbing. When the themed magazines start appearing between pages of text books, Steve ignores them. When she rolls on one that’s been stuffed underneath his covers, interrupting an otherwise excellent make-out session, she snaps.

“Woah, where are you going?” Steve says, catching the back of her knee when she goes to get off of him.

“I’m going to make them eat this,” she snarls, waving it in his face.

“Babe, they’re just being kids,” he says, tugging the magazine from her fingertips. She relinquishes it after a moment of resistance and he tosses it aside, “Prom’s dumb.”

“Then why do they think it’s such a big deal?” She questions. He shrugs helplessly and her frustration boils up again, “fine! Don’t tell me. It’s no sweat off my nose!”

She hauls herself away with him, pausing only long enough to grab the magazine on her way out. She slams the door behind her, ignoring the sound of his groan and the bed creaking under his back. There are cold showers for that. She is still going to make them eat the magazine. They can share it, she doesn’t care that they’re kids. It’s time to learn to be grown ups.

“Is that my magazine?”

Kali is torn between embarrassment and rage. Whatever her feeling are on the pale brunette standing there, the undeniable fact is that she managed to get the lab closed. No powers, no knowledge, nothing. There is nothing special about her and Kali hates the fact that for all her skill, this girl has dealt more of a blow to the monsters than she has. It’s frustrating in the extreme, especially to the part of her that keeps half her head shaved. Which, incidentally, is also the part of her that is most grateful. Kali loathes it.

“Your brother and his friends are dropping hints about prom,” she snaps walking over to Nancy, “your other magazines are around here somewhere.”

“That’s mean of them,” she says with a frown.

“Why? Because prom can’t happen without you?” Kali snaps and Nancy arches a perfectly shaped brow, “I didn’t realize you were the patron saint of school dances.”

“If you want to go to prom you can,” Nancy says, evenly slicing through all of her lies.

“Why would I want to go to some stupid school dance?” She snaps, “I’ve got far better ways to waste my time on something so idiotic.”

The door clicks behind her and she swears because, damn, Steve was going to need a cold shower. She has no idea if she wants to kill Nancy, Steve or herself more. She declares it a three way tie and rounds on the closest one.

“He heard me!” She snarls.

“Probably,” Nancy says, like this it’s a big deal, “hopefully he knows you didn’t mean it,” Nancy looks at her, “maybe you should go check.”

“No!” She says, maybe too loudly. But it doesn’t matter. Dances are lame, this is stupid and she all but rips the magazine out of Nancy’s hands. Then she bolts. She might be awful at everything else, but she’s good at that.

But not as good as her sister is at finding people.

“God, what do you want?!” She demands when she’s found far sooner than she’d like.

Her sister sits down quietly and reaches into her pocket. Kali almost laughs when she sees the flat compact of makeup she’s got in her hand. The sound comes out harsh though, too harsh for that. Doubt flickers across her sisters face before she just her chin out and looks at Kali.

“I want to talk about Snow Ball,” she says. Kali raises her eyebrows, “not this,” she elaborates, “Snow Ball the dance.”

Jane tells her in short sentences about the dance and it’s significance, about how Mike had invited her twice to it. She talks about punch and sparklers and all the things that someone like her would focus on. The entire time she twists the compact in her hand, over and over, like it’s somehow giving her strength.

“I wore this,” she says, “I remembered how to put it on after you showed me. Mike said—“

“I don’t want to know what your boyfriend said,” Kali says.

“It wasn’t scary.”

Kali glares at her.

“You think I’m scared?” She demands.

“Yes. I was.”

“We’ve been over this. I am not you.”

She isn’t. Jane is good, deep deep down. She hasn’t learned the lessons Kali has. Those things matter more than she wishes they did. Especially in situations like this. She looks down hard at the cover of the now crumpled magazine so she won’t have to see Jane’s face as she comes to that realization again. She’s not ready to see that again. Instead Jane wraps her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“You’re braver,” she says.

“Sod off,” Kali says scrubbing under her eyes, annoyed that she’s crying, “he doesn’t want to go to prom anyway.”

“Boys can be dumb,” she says sitting next to her. She turns easily to a page that’s been dog eared and hands it back to her, “here.”

Kali takes one look at the title and rolls her eyes. Jane keeps look at her as Kali sputters before dropping the magazine and flopping backwards. Jane drops her head onto her stomach and Kali makes it look like there are shooting stars streaking across the sky. It feels like the best part of when they were kids, even if they are a million miles from that.

She’s glad she didn’t run far, by the time they leave Jane’s half asleep and Kali winds up giving her a piggy back ride home. She puts Jane in bed and then heads to Steve’s house. That’s the beauty of being able to be invisible—coupled with the beauty of Steve’s parents never being home. He’s hunched over a different textbook this time. It’s late. But the windows open despite the chill in a silent invitation. So she slips inside. He look up at her but she shakes her head, closing the window. He turns back to the textbook and she falls asleep to the scratch of his pencil and the missed chance.

“I’m going to prom with the guys,” Steve says from the fridge a few days later.

“What guys?” Dustin calls and Steve lifts his head long enough to roll his eyes at him, “seriously, what guys? You hang out with us all the time.”

“There’s a few of us going stag,” he says.

“Stag’s when you don’t have a date,” Max says, “Billy goes stag to everything.”

Steve shrugs as she’s overcome with a familiar feeling that she’s missed her chance. At what, she can’t say. Actually she can’t do anything because if she leaves he’ll follow and making him think she’s there seems excessive. Rather, it seems like an admission of guilt. So she just sits there eating, pretending not to care. He wanted to go to prom, he’s going to prom, that’s it.

It’s not like she cares about his stupid dance anyway.

When he looks at her a little too long she gets up because of course he sees through it. So much for effort. She tips her plate into the sink and walks off.

“Don’t follow me,” she orders quietly, without looking back to see him come around the corner.

Two days later Dustin shoves the brightly colored ticket at her.

“He’s going with his friends,” she points out.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he says and she glares, “look I know you’re embarrassed but I can tell you from personal experience, being at a dance with no-one to dance with sucks balls.”

“I’m sure he’s got—“

“Stop making excuses and just go to the dance,” Dustin says. Kali wonders if he knows what she’s actually capable of. What she really wants to do. “And if you need something else you’ll shock him because he’s not excepting it after hearing you trash it.”

“Maybe I trashed it for a reason,” she shoots back.

“We know the reason,” Dustin says and Kali is not a fan of the way that makes her feel.

“I don’t have a dress,” she says.

“We took care of that.”

She raises an eyebrow, inspecting his baggy jeans, t-shirt and flannel slowly. Letting him see her inspecting them.

“Stay there,” he says and walks away. She reaffirms the awfulness of the idea when he reappears, “here.”

“Is she your go-to girl or something?” Kali demands, looking at him, “don’t you have any female friends?”

“Hey!” Nancy objects, putting a hand on Dustin’s shoulder.

“I have two,” Dustin says, “but Max and El would just let you wear that,” he adds, motioning to her jeans.

“It’s funny, none of those magazines you left around had any tips about shopping for prom dresses with an ex,” she say.

“So you did read them!” Dustin says.

“Do you want my help or not?” Nancy questions.

Kali really, really hates her. She needs her bullshit back. Leveled with such a direct question, she’s got few choices. It’s a stupid dance, she reminds herself. This is all stupid, it’s got no right to take up this much room in her head.

“I don’t know how you deal with this bullshit,” she snaps at Nancy who looks at her evenly.

“I don’t, that’s why I’m helping you.”

Damn.

She’s holding it together, barely, when Steve drags himself out of bed to get ready. Maybe he’s too wrapped up in his own tension to notice hers. Or maybe he’s just being polite. Or maybe—she cuts herself off. What a load of bullshit, she thinks hotly as she gets up and flushes the toilet in the other bathroom to hurry him up. By the time she gets out he’s dressed in a slim navy tuxedo that looks a lot different from the garish ones she’s seen boys wearing. He actually doesn’t look like a boy at all. He looks good.

“Okay I’m off,” he says unnecessarily, something gut wrenching in his eyes.

“Have fun,” she hears herself say. He nods, “Steve—“ he turns and looks at her, but an instant later a horn breaks the air. His friends are here. She licks her dry lips, “you look nice,” she offers lamely.

“Thanks,” he mumbles and walks away.

The door closes and she almost collapses in the disappointment that clutches her chest.

She fucked it up again.

“I fucked it up, didn’t I?” She says, knowing that she’ll be heard even before the door opens.

“No time,” Jane orders.

“Jane,” she begins.

“No time!” Jane barks and sets down a case. Nancy is on her heels. Kali feels a stab of doubt because maybe it’s better that she isn’t there. But Nancy is putting a dress on the ground. When she looks at Jane, the girl nods encouragingly. “Like Snow Ball.”

Right, Kali thinks, like Snow Ball. She really has lost it. She takes her clothes off and steps into the pile of fabric. The two girls zip her up into the one shouldered creation. It feels right, she thinks. One side is normal, the side with her longer hair. The other is more abrasive, like bearing a wound or teeth. The only concession she makes is the lightness of her makeup. Shields down, as Dustin would say.

She glances in the mirror.

It feels like a huge mistake.

All of this does. Suddenly the face that’s looking back at her is familiar. It isn’t one of choice, of creation. It’s hers. Her mother’s eyes, her father’s lips. All of it has been tugged up. She feels like an onion and not just because of how her eyes are burning. She feels peeled back. Nancy gives her the most encouraging smile she’s ever had and Jane nods like she knows.

“He’s going to leave early and I can only go so fast,” Max says.

“I’ll stop the police,” Kali says.

“Physics,” Max points out.

“That’s me,” Jane says.

“Just get in the car!” Nancy orders.

Kali makes it a point to avoid schools. School dances. She should have avoided school boys as well, but that’s a lesson for next time. Steve’s easy to spot, but that’s not a surprise. Not difficult either. People are talking to him but she realizes that they’re cycling out. Keeping him company. That he’s not having a good time. Wrapping herself in illusions she slips, unseen, past everyone until she’s behind him and taps his shoulder.

“Want to dance?” She asks.

His eyes almost bug out of his head and she’s strongly reminded of their first kiss.

She likes that memory.

His eyes take in everything. The dress, the exposed tattoo, they settle on her face though. Which is funny since he’s seen her without makeup on. Her war paint he named it once. But he hasn’t seen her out like that. He’s stunned into silence but after a moment it’s a little ridiculous. She’s already in the dress after all. She drops the smile and rolls her eyes.

“Did you inhale too much hairspray again? I said—“

He kisses her.

In public.

It’s a good enough kiss that she allows it, though she thinks to have words with him later about interrupting. It helps when his wraps around her and he pulls her even closer. She likes it when he kisses like that. He tastes like punch cut with cheap booze and it’s the first time she’s ever not hated the sick sweet smell of the fake fruit.

“You’re here,” he breathes and she grins.

“Seemed easier than fighting off all these high school chicks,” she says with a shrug, her arms still loosely around his neck, “since I am her, we should dance.”

“Yeah, just—“ he reaches into his lapel and pulls out the flower they were giving to the guys. Carefully he tucks it behind her ear and Kali tells the butterflies she swallowed to calm the hell down, “now we can dance.”

She rolls her eyes and makes sure he sees her do it.

“You’re so dramatic,” she says and he grins at her.

“Maybe,” he says, “but I’m in good company.”

Since she can’t really argue with that, she figures it’s best to just lay her head against his chest and let him lead. And maybe check every so often to make sure he’s still grinning like an idiot. Steve winds up never sitting against the wall again. Kali still might think prom is dumb but Steve might be worth a few dumb things, now and again. Since there are so many of them after all. If Max was right and Steve had plans to leave early, she becomes wrong.

They leave last.