#i didn’t have time to actually colour it normally so i tried something different instead

[ddlcbrainrot]

just two weird girls maximising their joint peculiarity

[thebellearchives]

For your prompt event, may i request fluff prompt 12 for sukuna? 👉👈

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑

~ ryomen sukuna ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : there’s something so intriguing about the curse that lives inside your best friend, unfortunately for you the king of curses might’ve picked up on your interest

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff? more like sukuna being a smug flirty bastard !!

‧₊˚ a / n : so i wasn’t sure if i wanted to give sukuna a body of his own but this is the first time i write for him and i really wanted to try and describe them as different people despite sharing the same body, so Yuuji is mentioned a couple of times ~

Toge ver. || Sukuna ver. || Gojo ver.

prompt list

In the past few days there was nothing that Yuuji and you hadn’t been doing together. In fact, to say 'past few days' was most definitely an understatement, it was more like months. He was your best friend after all, so there weren’t many things about him that would surprise you anymore. Except Sukuna.

He wouldn’t come out often, but when he did there was this electric sensation of thrill running through your skin. He was something else for sure. He’d make you nervous, curious, he’d have you at the edge of your seat. And that was exactly what was going on in that exact moment. You and your best friend had decided to watch a movie that wasn’t going to be at the cinema for much longer, so when you walked in with your popcorn and drinks there was no one else there.

The movie had started out pretty interesting, the main character was likeable, and that classic event that would take him out of his comfort zone was pretty cool too, but along the way it had just gotten a bit monotone. Or so you though, because next to you your pink haired friend had been quiet for a long time. When you finally glanced at him the black tattoo-like marks on his smooth skin let you know it was Sukuna the one who was insanely focused on the movie.

After noticing that, you were not able to focus on the movie anymore. You’d shift on your seat, sip on your drink more often that you normally would. Crossing your legs, uncrossing them instantly, leaning into the opposite arm rest, sitting normally again. You tried to fix your gaze on the screen, you really did, but somehow your eyes just wouldn’t stay put and you’d end up admiring Sukuna. You couldn’t help but study the way his whole demeanor changed, he was now laid back on his seat and with his knees angled outwards, as opposed to Yuuji who’d always keep his legs straight. His head tilted to the right, resting on his fist and a slight frown. He was comfortable in his body, his muscles were firm instead of relaxed, giving him a confident aura.

But your little study session came to an end when Sukuna caught you staring at him.

“You keep staring at me instead of watching the film” his lips curled up in a malicious smile “What's up?”

What’s up? You wish you knew.

“Nothing” you cleared your throat and tried to sit straight once again “I didn’t think you’d be into this kind of movies.”

A deep, resonant and derisive laugh left his throat.

“You’re a terrible liar, did you know that?”

The truth was that laugh of his had actually turned your insides upside down, your face flushed with a deep crimson colour.

“What was i supposed to reply, then?”

“The truth of course, like a normal human. Although I suppose humans do lie a lot.” he offered you a charming grin, but you rolled you eyes and took another sip from your drink.

“And what is that truth then, king of curses?”

“Just say you think I’m hot, sweetheart.”

“What?” you could’ve sworn your heart somehow had gotten tangled in between your vocal chords, almost making you choke on your drink.

This time his laughter was more vibrant, it was clear he was enjoying making fun of you. Did he think you were some kind of toy to use for amusement?

“You’re gonna deny it?” you frowned, swallowing nervously. You remained silent, but he insisted, leaning towards you and encouraging you with teasing words “go on, say no.”

“No.”

“Yeah, like I said, terrible liar.” he smirked, playfully stroking your cheek with the back of his index.

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (23) Apology

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter23)

Summary: Rosie shares a surprise with her parents and uncle. All of them have different thoughts about this unexpected development, and silent negotiations are carried out.

Twenty-Three Years Old

I knew that Papa not fully understood my reason for studying international politics and data, but to his credit he didn’t for one second try to convince me to give it another thought and opt for something science related instead. Dad was just relieved that I’d finally had found a path to walk, after several failed attempts. Uncle Myc, well he tried to hide how utterly pleased he was with my choice, but by now I knew him well enough to read the signs. Truth be told, said signs weren’t that subtle.

“Bien choisi ma chérie,” he beamed at me, while Papa scowled at him.

“Merci oncle,” I retorted. “I can’t wait to start this and go to Paris.”

The three-year BA degree was taught by The University of London Institute in Paris. We would be taught in English, but if we had an A level in French, we could also take French courses. I’d learned French in school for years, and uncle Myc and I often conversed in French when uncle Greg wasn’t around.

I think it’s needless to say that my security and comfort in France was well taken care of. Papa and uncle Myc had a conversation using their eyes only when I spilled the beans. Dad knew exactly what was going on and went to make tea while negotiations were carried out. Once the brothers were satisfied, uncle Myc took out his phone and sent several texts or emails. By now, I knew it’ll be futile to pester any of them of what was going on. I was just relieved that no one had tried to talk me out of it, making me feel uncertain or guilty for leaving the country; actually, moving out of my childhood home.

My reasons for choosing this subject were multifaceted. I’d always enjoyed learning facts, obscure and otherwise, about different countries and cultures. Having had a relatively unorthodox upbringing, containing all sorts of people, played a big part too. The cherry on top was that the school was abroad. Nana’s tales of her experiences overseas and how educating it is to have lived some time in another country and society, had always seemed enticing to me.

***

The university was situated close to the Invalides and the Seine, while my lodgings were in the Charonne area in the 11th arrondissement on a cosy cobble street, with a nearby metro station. My landlady, Marguerite Vachon was one of uncle Myc’s acquaintances, from where, I still have no idea. 

Marguerite preferred that I used her given name instead of the formal, Madame Vachon.

“Je ne suis pas ancient,” was her favourite line and reminded me quite a lot of Nana.

“I am not ancient, dear,” was a statement Nana had used every so often.

Marguerite was a petite and elegant woman. Her hair was cut in a bob, coloured black with a few red stripes. I never saw her without lipstick or makeup. She always wore bespoke dresses and high heeled shoes. I deduced that she was far more than a landlady. When I left for school in the morning, I could hear her sing or talk on the phone, and when I returned, she always opened her door and inquired about my day.

“She’s clearly spying for Mycroft,” Papa’s voice told me.

And there was something about her, which I couldn’t put my finger on. Something mysterious, secret, perhaps even dangerous. 

***

It seemed like Marguerite had my schedule memorised. Not that I’d given her the information, but when she slipped, I got my suspicions confirmed. To be fair, it wasn’t slipping per se. She couldn’t have known that class was dismissed early that day.

Luckily, I spotted her and was able to hide behind a wall before she saw me. I’d almost missed her, because she wasn’t wearing her normal dress and high heels, but red trousers, a white and blue-striped jumper, and white trainers. Instead of one of her posh handbags, she had a dark blue canvas bag diagonally draped over her chest.

Papa had taught me a few tricks when it came to the fine art of following people without being discovered. I’ve never had much use of them obviously, but now I saw an opportunity. How I would explain this and apologise if I was caught, never crossed my mind.

I was sceptical when Marguerite walked to the metro station, but I was able to get into the same carriage as her, and it seemed that she had no idea she was being followed. She got off three stops later and walked in the direction of the big Père-Lachaise cemetery.

A fitting location for obscure and shady affairs.

Marguerite knew where she was going, walking briskly but not hurried. I had walked the premises several times before and knew where she was headed when I saw the grand tomb of Sir Richard Wallace, the British baronet who contributed millions to the Parisian poor during the Siege of Paris in the early 1870s.

This reeked of another posh Brit I knew.

When Marguerite had placed a folder by the tomb and another woman picked it up five minutes later, I had a hard time keeping myself composed. The woman picking up the folder was the French equivalent of Anthea.

I sent uncle Myc a text when both women were out of sight.

Thanks for keeping track on me, but this thing is like being part of a French noir film. You can tell Papa I think you’re both growing sentimental, and I demand an apology!

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies

[wisteriaiswriting]

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤𝕥

Words: 607

Not only was Violet Sorrengail now in the Riders Quadrant, he also had to deal with you. Another child of the rebellion, only on the opposite side. And he made his feelings for you crystal clear.

Quickly enough you noticed, feeling lucky about being in a different squad. That luck would run out soon enough, overhearing him complaining to a teacher.

“Why do you need them in the squad?” Time passed and he didn’t respond, only footsteps getting closer. Only having a few seconds to step behind the door before he swings it open.

If he knew you were there, he didn’t make it clear. Instead continuing on until he turned a corner, finally out of view and ear shot.

***

Violet's squad didn’t start like normal, now watching a second squad enter, with you in front.

“Alright, no–” Cut off by people stepping onto the mats, Xaden first then you followed. “Fine then.” Your squad leader finished speaking, as the other was cut off.

“Hey, you two,” Calling for your attention, “You know the rules, just don’t kill each other.” The hatred between you two was clear. As soon as they said so, the spar started. Which didn’t feel like a spar, instead an actual fight.

Xaden launching himself at you, stepping away to try something. Only for him to grab your arm, pulling and holding it behind you. Using the leverage to push you onto the mat, smiling as you tried to escape.

At first he believes you’d tap out, which you would never do. Only for your head to slam back into his. Stumbling off as you spin around, keeping him down. He could easily throw you off, everyone knew that, but he didn’t.

Instead staring up at you. Soon enough the others called off the spar, jolting him back. Rushing up and out of the room.

“So…”

“Shut up.”

***

A knock at your door pulled you from your activity, it kept going until you opened it. Finding Bodhi standing, his arm raised.

“Oh, I didn't expect you to be here.”

“It’s my room, is it not?”

“Well- Doesn’t matter, you’re needed in the courtyard.”

“By who?” Instead of responding he walked away, towards the yard. Weird. Well, it wouldn’t kill you to go, right?

***

All he said was the courtyard, but not where. So you opted for the side, waiting for whoever needed you. Cut off by, seemingly the walls shaking.

Stepping out to see two dragons perching on the walls. Xaden’s dragon, who seemed more interested in you then he’s ever been. And Xaden himself demounting himself.

Then there was your dragon. She was a [Colour] with [Second colour], and clearly, much smaller than Xaden’s. And was looking at Xaden, and you weren’t sure why. She’s never shown interest, if anything, also hated him.

Without even realizing, Xaden was standing in front of you. His hand holding your shoulder, looking slightly upset.

“Did you hear m–, huh.”

“What.”

“You really thought I’d hurt you?” Holding his hand out for you to see, in it was one of your daggers. Specifically the first one you brought here, and on the floor were a few others he’d removed from you.

“With you? Absolutely.” Huffing as you turned away. His hand gingerly but swiftly, held your chin. Turning you to face him, his eyes looked down at your lips before looking back up.

“You’re terrible at hiding secrets.”

“Wh– HEY!” With that he pulled away, and started to walk. Of course you couldn’t let him get away with that, so you ran after him. Hearing the dragons huff, or at least something similar at your banter.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

I got my hair cut short a few months ago impulsively.But now I feel really self conscious about it since it’s in an awkward growth phase. So I was wondering if you had any cute HC’s of either Angela,Sylvia Or even Cherry cutting their hair short.

If it’s any consolation anon, my best friend impulsively cuts her hair all the time so it’s perpetually in awkward growing out phases and she always looks adorable- I’m sure you do too. But omg anon tysm for this ask because I actually have SO many thoughts on the the outsiders girls and their hair because I think all of them have cut it at least once but for different reasons

-Sylvia Devares' hair is long, dark curls, but when she was little her long hair is what her father used to grab when he was in one of his rages, and her mom used to yank on it to make her behave. Little Sylvia had been growing it out so she could look like her grandmother, but once when she was seven, entirely fed up after a particularly harsh yank from her mother she grabbed a pair of kitchen scissors and chopped it all off herself. It was horrible and uneven and messy and Sylvia didn’t care. Her mother was furious and refused to get it fixed, so Sylvia wore that slashed off hair for ages, and wore it like a badge of honour until it started to grow back. It grew in uneven and was all different lengths until Sylvia turned ten and finally decided she wanted more normal stereotypically ‘pretty’ hair, but she still remembers the slashed up look and the way it made it so she couldn’t be grabbed as often as her first lesson about how looks can be a kind of defence

-Sandy Okensy always loved her long, flowing blonde hair, obsessed as she always was with disney princesses, Rapunzel in particular. However, she got lice in the third grade and neither her parents nor her older sister had the time to fine comb her hair, so she had to shave it instead. It absolutely DESTROYED her, and ever since her hair is a sort of obsession of hers and she tries to always keep it as long as possible. She also washes it every single day

-Evie Bylilly’s Navajo heritage makes it so that her hair is super important to her. At the time of The Outsiders its past her hips, however, when she was in grade three her grandfather (whom she was very close to) died and she cut it as a sign of mourning and respect. Her haircut was styled in a cute little ear length bob but she still got teased for it a bit. She wouldn’t trade that experience or the hair cut for anything though, and her haircut and the subsequent teasing is part of how she and Sandy became friends in the first place (the bond of the girls bullied in elementary school is unshakable).  Evie sees her long hair now as a sign of how she’s grown in the years since her grandfathers passing, as well as a reminder of how long she has grieved him. 

-Angela Shepard has always loved her long, silky curls because her hair is one of the few things in the world that is truly hers, however after her hair gets cut by Bryon and Mark (lets go with TWTTIN canon for these head canons) she grows it out a bit and styles it into a mullet. The curls and they style makes her look REALLY cool and she sticks with it for a while before she decides to grow her hair out properly again

-Marcia Valentine is the kind of girl who can’t keep a hairstyle for more than a few months. She has cut and styled, bleached and dyed her hair so many times at this point it’s a wonder her hair isn’t damaged beyond repair. She just gets so bored with the same old thing after a while and always wants something exciting. Lucky for her, she can rock just about any style and any colour- except red. She tried to emulate Cherry once and spend the whole weekend relying her hair back to brown.

-Cherry Valance is very careful with her hair. She likes to layer it and gets it regularly trimmed to keep it healthy, but major changes like big cuts or style changes aren’t for her. Her hair is already such a vibrant colour she doesn’t feel the need to make it any more of a key feature.

Hope this is kinda what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask xx

[aemiron-main]

I Am Henry Creel vs You’re Not Henry: Changing Rooms, Fringe, Henward, TFS, and Walls

So, I know I’ve talked before about the idea of Edward being brainwashed to believe that he’s Henry, but I want to dig into that more after having seen TFS.

So, first of all, Alice asks “Henry” the question “where’s Henry?” and when he says that he’s right here, Alice says “you’re not Henry.”

And also, Virginia keeps getting “Henry” to repeat the phrase “I am Henry Creel and I am normal,” which honestly just makes me less convinced that he’s Henry every time that he says it.

And so, jumping over to Fringe, which is confirmed inspo for ST, in Fringe, Olivia Dunham is brainwashed to believe that she’s actually her alternate timeline counterpart, nicknamed “Fauxlivia,” and part of that brainwashing includes a scene where Olivia, mostly believing but still slightly doubting that she’s Fauxlivia, visits Fauxlivia’s childhood home and Fauxlivia’s mother at said home.

And during that scene, Fauxlivia tells Olivia about a memory of painting the walls of the house when Fauxlivia was a kid- and this memory ends up being a memory that was implanted into Olivia’s brain from Fauxlivia’s brain, so Olivia remembers the memory when Fauxlivia’s mother says it, which is the tipping point for making Olivia truly believe that she’s Fauxlivia.

Which, i’m brining up that scene for two key reasons:

1.) What I talked about in this post regarding the Edward timeline vs the Henry timeline and the changing wall colours of the Creel house between each timeline, much like the memory of the colours of the painted walls in Fauxlivia’s house.

2.) Something that caught my attention during TFS was a really specific, repeated wording: “changing rooms.”

Not only were “changing rooms,�� brought up constantly, but it was always specifically worded as “Changing Rooms,” and not “change rooms,” or anything else like that. Which has me staring directly at double meanings and literal Changing Rooms, like Rooms That Change, JUST like the room in the Creel house that I mentioned earlier that we see change- and specifically, we see the colours of the walls change, much like Olivia’s scene in Fringe regarding the memory of the colour of the walls in Fauxlivia’s house.

So, I’m wondering if Edward was brainwashed to believe that he’s Henry, and that’s part of why Virginia keeps telling him to repeat the phrase “I am Henry Creel and I am normal,” because while I could understand the “I am normal,” part, the “I am Henry Creel,” part is a little weirder, because it’s never really explained why he says that/why Virginia would think that he doesn’t believe that he’s Henry.

But if something happened during the Nevada Incident, and “Henry,” instead of coming back wrong, didn’t come back at all, and Edward came back in his place… it would explain why Virginia keeps telling him to repeat that he’s Henry Creel. After all, if Edward ended up in the Henry timeline and was insisting that his name is Edward, not Henry…. Then it would make sense for Virginia to think that he’s just got his brain scrambled/mentally ill (even if Brenner etc know the truth) and she would want to reinforce that he’s Henry.

And more specifically, I’m also wondering if we’re going to see a scene in S5 (or even in other versions of TFS, as other renditions that people have seen/other BTS pics are very different from what I saw), where “Henry” is staring at the wallpaper in the Creel house & knows deep down that something is off about it- because he’s actually Edward and the wallpaper was a different colour in his timeline.

Bonus points if Virginia pulls a gaslight gatekeep girlboss Fringe parallel moment & tries to talk to “Henry”/Edward about the memory of painting the wall and how “it used to be green, but we put the red wallpaper over it, remember?”

[archandshri]

8th March ‘24 - [arch] colour!!!! community!!!

Hey Shri! <3 

Wow!!!! I’ve seen the finished Brothers Lionheart cover already, but those thumbnails are just incredible. I know you plan to move away from the dark/horror vibes of those images but they’re so impactful!! For sure save those compositions for something else. You’ve put so so much thought into those compositions, it’s inspiring me to put that level of thought into my images too. It's nuts!!!

So y’know how the plan for this blog was to take it easy and do a little at a time? Maybe just pop in and update each other on what we’ve been working on, or even what’s been inspiring us? Well, we haven’t exactly been taking it easy have we :// At the beginning of writing this I thought it was gonna be a chill one but,,, it turned out not to be.

I was lucky enough to be back in Cardiff for a bit the other week, so I hit up the Riso studio. It was super lovely seeing everyone - really made me realise the value of having an artistic community. (for context, I have been travelling recently and it’s been weird, after uni, to not be surrounded by other illustrators)

About once a month, my shared print studio has an event called Open Haus, where we’re open to the public but also loads of members will come in, have a cuppa and a biscuit and talk about art stuff. I happened to be doing some riso printing and Gavin, who’s a right babe and an excellent riso artist, was once again giving me a hand. I love working with other people in the studio, bouncing ideas off them. It sometimes helps me get out of my head (though with practice, I’m also learning to do that by myself!)

Here’s a bit of development work for the print I did a few days before printing. It was actually a bit of development for my comfort characters’ home - but as you know i love building my skills through fun things like that! Trick yourself in to improving xD

This is the print I made!! It’s titled ‘Space Fyn’, named after a place I associate with home <3 

I ran into a bit of an issue with the blue, which I originally planned to use. Once I printed it, I hated it (blehhhhhh), so! We tried a mint out instead. I still didn’t like it. But thankfully, Gavin did this thing where he made me step back and view it from afar and then I liked it again (this has happened twice now I think I need to learn to step back without his help ://) Also, there were about 10 people in the studio, and they all voted on the mint, so I printed a run of 15! (ps. you can order them by dming me on Instagram)

Later, I was showing a friend the progress and she made some great points. The dark blue gives more of an evening vibe, while the mint gives more of a sunrise vibe, a bit brighter. But also, it totally changes the tone! This has led me to think more about how different colours can be used for particular vibes :0 and how can we bend that and make it more interesting than ‘red danger’ and ‘blue sad’. 

Some notes I took from our conversation

Looking at colours in particular genres (they are used differently in specific ways in different contexts) 

for example in Westerns, good guys wearing a white hat and bad guys wearing black hats - misc characters wearing brown.

Light sabres in Star Wars very clearly symbolising ideology

Characters attached to colour - she uses blue and red to symbolise characters that oppose each other in some way, for example.

Character designs, using colours that match well for more grounded characters, and colours that clash for more unstable characters

Power rangers!!

What colour is your ‘normal’ for the world? And how will specific characters break that or blend in?

All of these are just prompts and thinking points of course, it’ll take a lot of exploring to know how i want to apply these to my work.

I was lucky enough to attend Plymouth Comic and Zine fair!!!!! (this is me :0 !!)

It was very lovely, I really enjoyed seeing people from uni, the general Plymouth illustration scene, and those few illustrators you know but only really see at fairs. I also got the opportunity to have some awesome chats about illustration (shoutout to that one hermitcraft fan who let me ramble about Minecraft builds and setting design for a bit <3). I had a chat with the wonderful Ben Wright and Jess Holloway about colours, especially in narrative, and here are some ideas I took away from that!

They didn’t have any specific suggestions for books about colour and narrivite,  but again, film came up! Colours in film are discussed a lot, and vary a lot in genre, so i’ll have to do some looking into that.

In particular wes anderson might be good to look at 

Hero by Jet Li - haven’t looked at this yet

How to take colour that we may associate with a particular feeling and instead make it do something else. (eg. how to make blue happy)

Colour in context with shape and composition

I was very excited after PCZF and got hyperfixated on a little drawing. You and I were chatting about folds in clothes at the fair, so this image was to play with that a bit.

Yes this is an image of my favorite block lady. I love her. [Illustration of GeminiTay, along with her season 10 skin]

I decided to use the colour pick tool from my reference for accurate colours, which I don’t normally do. I do have a habit of going too light with my values, and a bit swampy and desaturated with my colours. When I started with her trousers, I thought it was wayyyy too dark, but I decided to stick with it till the end anyway. Even though it clearly worked in the reference image, I was still surprised it worked on mine. This has proved to me that it’s okay to push and use some darker colours - which is a bit scary but I’m going to give it a go.

'messing around with colors with imp and skizz' by @applestruda

I also saw this incredible image by @applestruda using wonderful colours! This led me to play around with some high-saturation images. I wanted to draw one of GeminiTay’s builds with the spooky vibes she’s been trying to capture. I downloaded applestruda’s image, colour shifted the hue to one that fits the energy I wanted to capture, and used it to create a high saturation colour pallet. This is a great starting point since I’ve never worked with this kind of colour palette before - it gives me a starting point rather than drowning in indecision and cluelessness XD

Here’s a timelapse of the study!

Once I’d finished, I hue-shifted them for some alt colours. I find this a helpful process for figuring out colour stuff that I would never consider normally. I think I like these more, actually. The one with the reddish wood and green accents feels like it has the vibes of the original image, but is exaggerated a bit. I think it pops. And the pink is cool. I think I could have pushed the values further again, but I'm pretty happy with the final images.

So those are my colour thoughts over for now - I’m hoping to keep playing but use of colour is for sure a lifelong skill. 

The past few weeks have been so awesome. I’ve just been so so moulded by conversations with my artistic community and it’s been so lovely!!! I’m really enjoying running around the country and visiting all my pals. It was so nice to see you at PCZF and I’m looking forward to more of it!!! :D

Ps. Here are some sketches I did at the fair

Can’t wait to see more lionheart lil guys :0

Archie <3 :)))))))))

[tev-the-random]

(Technically a distant continuation of this, but can be read on its own!)

His skin was an imitation of life that refused to age or scar. Although the years had moulded Jimmy into someone near unrecognisable, he looked no different than he did when he left Tumble Town. It was quite anticlimactic, to think he had nothing to show for his trials other than some patches on his clothes and perhaps a sharper wit to his eyes — metaphorically, that is. His actual eyes looked just as glassy as ever.

So after everything he went through to find himself here, he supposed the location was fitting. It, too, was rather anticlimactic: nothing but an old shack in the woods. It didn't even look dilapidated enough to be haunted. The forest didn't bother to have ominous crows cawing at him or any particularly disturbing tree — on the contrary, there were small patches of sunlight shining through the leaves above, and the smell of morning dew was fairly pleasant. If not for the peculiar plants growing in the little garden in front of him, which his cat sniffed suspiciously, he would have thought this was the wrong place.

These weren't plants you could normally find in the Overworld, that much Jimmy was sure of. From bushes of glowing, multicoloured berries to herbs that floated in the air like little leafy balloons, their roots hanging loose. The red vines crawling up a trellis close to the wall reminded him of the Nether, though the blossoming black flowers that grew on it would suggest otherwise.

"Awfully poisonous, those flowers."

He jumped, sword in hand.

Without producing shadow or sound, a person stood beside him, towering over Jimmy. Their silvery hair, washed out robes and sickly pale skin made them stand out against the background; a desaturated figure in the otherwise verdant woods.

There was a moment of silence in which Jimmy tried to gather himself. Any information he had about the one who supposedly lived here left his brain entirely. All of his well-thought-out bargains and self-confident arguments were startled out of him, leaving an uncertain tremble in his voice.

"Um..." He blanked.

In order to give him some more time to think — or maybe they just didn’t care enough to pay attention to him, — the stranger walked past the small man to take a closer look at their garden. They merely shooed Norman, who hissed at their approach before moving to stand beside his owner.

“You ever seen prettier experience bushes?” They said casually, getting rid of a few dead leaves on one of their plants. They examined its colourful berries carefully, only to let them go with a disappointed sound. “Incredible magical properties, but it’s so difficult to grow them right this time of the year...”

"Are you— are you the person I'm looking for?" Jimmy finally spoke. "I was told I could find a wizard in these woods that could help me with a curse."

By their curious demeanour and wise, elderly face, Jimmy expected them to respond with some enigmatic question of their own, something a mysterious master would say. Perhaps a meaningful silence and a sharp glance. Instead, all he got was a quirked eyebrow.

"Well, does it look like there's anyone else around here?"

He made a conscious effort to not look bashful. What a talent he had to surround himself with people who loved patronizing him, huh? But he had had enough time to learn that, if he took the bait and let himself be played for dumb, he wouldn't get anywhere. Seize the discussion.

His determined eyes didn’t move from the grey figure.

"I just got here. Don’t waste my time—"

"Yes, yes. You sure did take your time," said the stranger, moving to the red vines on the trellis. With a pair of small pruning shears they fished out of their pocket, they started cutting away at the flowers. "I, myself, thought you had keeled over and died somewhere along the way. I've been waiting for years, Jimmy! Surely you can hold on for a couple more minutes?"

"You— what?” His focus wavered ever so slightly. “How do you— you've been waiting for me? Like, for me specifically?"

"Who else would I be waiting for?" They chuckled. The sound ringed in Jimmy’s ears, bothering him the same way it always did when people laughed at him. In that regard, he only changed for worse.

Even though he felt like it, he didn't groan. He stared at Norman as if the cat could tell him what the deal with this unusual character was. If he knew how to, Norman would shrug.

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy forced calmness into his tone.

"How would I know?" He'd gotten better at not gritting his teeth at frustration, though he still sounded like he had swallowed a lemon. "You could be waiting for a hundred other people, maybe that’s your deal. I don't know you."

"Ah, but you certainly know of me! Otherwise, I wouldn't be the person you're looking for."

"Oh my g— Are you them or not?"

"Yes." They still didn't bother looking at him. Once satisfied with the number of black flowers they had gathered, they turned around with a swish of their robes and opened the door to their hut. "Well then. Come on inside."

Jimmy hesitated to follow. Norman, on his part, sniffed every inch of the chipped wooden door before sitting resolutely by the entryway. Jimmy took it as a warning. I’ll keep an eye out.

When he stepped inside, he concluded that this was, without a doubt, a wizard's house — a very disorganized one at that. The cabin was much larger on the inside, tall bookshelves extending far into a ceiling that seemed never-ending. Manuscripts littered the floor and desks alongside scrawled notes and old hardback books of all sizes. There were a multitude of coloured candles on nearly every surface, illuminating vials and more vials of the most peculiar ingredients. Jimmy consciously chose to believe that the blood in all those organised flasks on top of the nearest shelf belonged to some wild animal.

From the walls hanged more vines of strange plants, as well as all sorts of animal skins and various paintings and pictures — some pristine, others completely defaced. But they all seemed to depict a same theme, a same character: a very familiar deity with a golden trident and exaggerated grandeur. It was hard to ignore such clear obsession for someone Jimmy thought to be so incredibly unremarkable. The so called god of Stratos was the very reason he ended up like this to begin with. Religious fanatics were the last thing he needed right now.

Completely oblivious to their guest’s discomfort, the mage stood hunched over a counter, surrounded by multiple powders, herbs and and fluids in jars. Their hands worked on a mortar and pestle.

"You could have come sooner, you know?" They commented. "I don't know why you'd go through all that trouble with witches and pirates and whatever else you were doing when you could've just asked Scott for my address, I haven’t moved. But then again, you are the second pettiest individual I've ever seen. Leave it to you to go on some wild goose chase."

Jimmy stopped eyeing the room to stare at them. His brows quickly furrowed, suspicion immediately arisen.

"What does Scott have to do with this?" He asked. His hand itched to grab his sword again. "Actually, no: how do you know me in the first place? How did you know I was coming, huh?"

They hummed. "I’ve got eyes everywhere. You just happened to stumble upon one of them a long time ago."

The wizard stopped their motion to point at an open cabinet to their left. It was low enough that Jimmy could see its contents, and it made him raise an eyebrow: it was a human skull. Inside of one of the eye socket, there was a bright pink jewel; in the other, an unique blue stone caught his attention — it was intricate, as if it had been made to truly look like the iris of an eye.

Absentmindedly, Jimmy reached his wooden hand to touch the artefact, looking for something that could explain its purpose.

But when he blinked, he was on a hill. Vibrant flower patches stretched along the brick roads of a colourful kingdom, where glowing clouds of all colours painted the sky, constantly pumped by tall chimneys on cyan rooves.

Right in front of him, an excitable man dressed in orange spoke; Jimmy couldn't hear any of it. The man, too, glowed ever so slightly, and it made him want to squint at the vibrancy of the scene. The entire world was in deep silence, despite how much it looked like it was screaming at him.

Jimmy raised a hand to run it through his hair in exasperation, only for it to hit something. The cabinet. He blinked again, and back he was at the wizard’s hut as if he had never moved at all.

“What in the world—?”

“Funny, isn’t it?” The mage chuckled. Adding a few drops of a green liquid into the mortar, they went back to crushing. “What was he doing this time?”

“He was— I was just... in Chromia,” Jimmy murmured in disbelief, not knowing how to feel about it. Haunted, he stared at his strange host. “What was that?”

“The eye I gave Scott Smajor has many perks for him. But mostly, it has perks for me. It pays well to have such a well-connected informant. Don’t tell him about it, though, I’m sure he would hate it.” They didn’t sound apologetic at all.

“What do you mean you gave him an eye?!”

“Did he never tell how he got that magical yellow eye of his?”

“I assumed he was just born like that! You know, like, it’s a condition! Het- hetochro- heterochromia? Don’t look at me like that!”

“Oh, trust me, there is nothing hetero about that man.”

Jimmy continued to stare. For the sake of his own sanity, he tended to avoid thinking about any of the emperors he left behind. It had been so long since he last uttered the name of Scott Smajor, and the memories he held weren’t exactly the fondest. But a part of him couldn’t help but feel bad for the collector: this was, at the very least, a huge breach of privacy. Did he even want to know why this random guy in the middle of the woods needed unaware spies? Were they just a creep, or were they looking for something in particular? Did they assume Jimmy was coming over eventually, or had Scott been following him this whole time? Could they even make him do that? Could they control him?

The thought of being a mere puppet to someone made him sick in a horribly familiar way. He had half a mind to get back to Norman and leave.

But, he thought to himself, what if this is the only chance he has? In the years Jimmy had spent travelling, looking for a way to reverse this stupid toy curse, all he’s ever found was disappointment. Rejection. The frustrating loneliness that comes with learning people can’t be trusted; nobody cared enough to help, and those who did were never able to. When he was told there was a powerful wizard in a far away forest who could fix him, he took the lead with multiple doubts.

Now, he faced them all at their full force. What if they were to scam him? What if they were, in fact, nothing more than a massive creep? What if they killed him? Tortured him? Locked him away?

Just what price would he have to pay for his humanity?

He didn’t want to spend another hundred years running around looking for what he had lost. Jimmy was an imitation of life that couldn’t age or scar, but he was tired. So very tired of being a thing, tired of being a walking reminder of his own weakness in the eyes of others. He was tired of being so pathetic, no matter how hard he tried.

“You know what I’m here for, then,” he stated dryly. Resolute.

The mage hummed once more.

“Well, I have an educated guess.” They finally turned their head to look at the toy. The little glass eyes they met were unwavering. “You want your old body back. To be human again. Am I right?”

“You are. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes. But don’t you try anything silly!” His hand brushed against the hilt of his sword, pointedly displaying its netherite shine.

“Oh, don’t bother with threats. This is just as worthy an exchange to me, you know?”

“... And what do you want? In return, I mean.”

They didn’t respond immediately. With an amused smile on their face, they turned back to their workstation and, one by one, started tearing the black flowers from their garden into pieces. Into the mortar the shredded petals went, and after a minute of silent work, the wizard seemed satisfied with the solution they had made. There were another two or three minutes in which they put it through an old brewing stand before transferring it into one of the glass vials scattered around their desk.

With that, they handed him the concoction. Although it may have seemed like there wasn’t much of it in there to begin with, to Jimmy it felt more like a bucket full of bricks. He blinked, as if to ask ‘what the hell am I supposed to do with this?’

“Drink it, boy, drink it!”

Their eagerness wasn’t lost on him. The small man stared down at the inky substance, which smelled no more pleasant than spoiled milk.

“I thought you said those flowers were poisonous,” he pointed, stalling.

“Hm, yes, I do pride myself on growing the finest wither flower hybrids.” They waved Jimmy off as if he had said something particularly flattering. “But alchemy works in fascinating ways, so really, that mixture should be fine. Well, at least I haven’t killed anyone with it yet.”

The toy looked back at the front door, where his cat sat like a gargoyle. Upon noticing the his gaze, Norman got up with all that feline grace of his and approached to sniff the potion. His reaction wasn’t encouraging — he let out one of those tiny cat sneezes that often made Jimmy laugh, — but if he didn’t make a fuss about it, it was probably fine. Either that or the cat didn’t know a thing about magical ingredients either.

“And... what does this do, exactly?” Jimmy asked, still grimacing.

“In theory,” the wizard said from an unknown corner of the room, where they were now heaving an old-looking box from another one of their cabinets. He definitely hadn’t seen them move, “it allows me to freely tinker with you. Think of it as a surgery of sorts,” they quickly added at Jimmy’s horrified expression.

“You do realise this is the most suspicious situation ever?”

“Yes.”

“And you expect me to just drink this, then?”

“Well, if you don’t want it, you can leave.” They shook their head at him while they examined the instruments inside of the box. “I do have other things to do.”

“No, no, just... how can I know you’re not trying to trick me? You know, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Jimmy, if I wanted to do you any harm, I would have done it already.” Their sigh came from somewhere behind him. What were they, a transporter? “Do you think I let just anyone find me here? No. Now, you might have never heard it before, but you are quite special. And I personally would hate to let your potential go to waste because of some tasteless joke.”

That was it. Not pity, not scorn, not condescendence. It was as simple as ‘you deserve better.’ He did deserve better. So he did it.

The potion was thick and oily, and it burned on the way down. It was a mix of spicy and sweet that frankly made him want to throw it right back up. But the vial was small enough that he managed to down the whole thing in a few gulps.

He couldn’t remember anything after that.

---

When Jimmy woke up, the first thought that crossed his mind was that he had to have been buried alive. There was a suffocating weight on top of him, while his body sank heavily on an unstable surface. His chest was impossibly tight, and some horrible, almost painful texture seemed to envelop every inch of his skin.

His skin.

 He bolted upright.

The room Jimmy found himself in felt claustrophobic; not because it was particularly small, but because he fit inside of it. It made him dizzy, like it was too foreign to process. But it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as what he was feeling.

What was he feeling? It was hard to name it all.

A breeze made its way inside through the ajar window, and he could feel it on his face and shoulders like cold knives. The hairs along his arms stood up, goosebumps seeming to make their way into his very soul. There were no more ball joints, no more creaking, no wood grain — instead, he could faintly she the lines of his veins under pale skin.

He kicked away the covers he was tangled up in. The itchy, heavy thing had so many little loose threads, it felt like bugs crawling up his legs. The mattress was no better: his weight made it shift under him; he was almost sure it would swallow him up.

Jimmy touched his face to find that he could feel his own stubble, the lack of hinges on his jaw — it felt so loose, so free that he feared it would somehow fall from his skull. Pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes felt weird. His cracked lips, glued together from sleep, also felt weird. His hair— gods, it was so smooth! The knots were less like fraying yarn and more like he just hadn’t washed it in a few days.

His chest was wrapped in the most uncomfortable bandages possible. They were tight, rough, and Jimmy could feel every last fibre digging into his sides. But he could still run his fingers over his own ribs, touch his own stomach — it was squishy, not like cotton filling, but like flesh.

From the tip of his toes to the top of his head, he was flesh and bones and skin. And gods, he could feel it all — there was so much more surface to feel than he remembered! If he didn’t know any better, he would say he was about to combust.

He laughed in disbelief, only to immediately hug himself when it startled him; since when did his voice vibrate so much? Why was he so hot, yet so cold? So heavy? Why did his skin feel like it was melting underneath his fingers? Why was the sun so blinding, the room so small, the shifting of the bed so loud? Why was his chest even tied up, it didn’t have enough space to breathe—

“Woah there, let’s not do that.” A formless voice ringed in his ears.

Rough hands took hold of his wrist, and Jimmy pulled away like they burned him. His nails had dug bloody marks into his arms.

“Come on, deep breaths,” the owner of said hands told him. They sounded oddly close by, but Jimmy couldn’t bring himself to look at anything other than his own knees. “Yes, like that. Everything is fine, you just gotta readjust to it. Take your time”

He took in air that didn’t quite seem to fill his lungs. Without making a sound, someone closed the window and drew the curtains, cutting that cold breeze and bright light. It became easier to focus on the sting of the bruises he had produced, clinging to himself to confirm they were there.

A new weight dipped the mattress beside him and a mass of greys, browns and whites invaded his vision. Norman stared at him, sniffed at his hand, but was kind enough to not jump on him. If anything, the cat seemed suspicious.

Jimmy cleared his throat; it gave him a headache. But he was smiling fondly. Norman was so... tiny, like a kitten. Had he always been that small? His owner at times thought of him as an impromptu horse, tall and strong. He was a fluffy little thing.

“Hey, big man,” Jimmy murmured hoarsely, surprising himself with his own tone. Raising a hesitant hand, he caressed the cat’s waiting head and promptly melted.

He had forgotten what it was like to run his hand through Norman’s soft fur, to bend down and place a kiss on his little forehead. He’d forgotten the warm weight of the animal on his lap — or his own weight, for that matter. To make the floorboards creak under him, to leave a dip in the bed, to cast a long shadow on a wall. Oh, it was horrendous, too much at once — yet it was every fantastic bit like he had longed for.

“I’m not a toy.” He could shout it from the rooftops. Instead, he let out a wet and true laughter into Norman’s fur. He didn’t even realise he had started crying. “I’m not a toy.”

The wizard observed ominously. They left him a glass of water before exiting the room without a word.

For the first time in years, his own blood underneath his nails and sweat running down his back, Jimmy was alive.

[hazelthevixen]

First time at a circus! + How summer has been so far

Woah! I've never been to a circus before ^w^ Yesterday it was my first time and boy was it amazing :D I went with a friend and there was alotta cool tricks happening :3 Though one of the girls who was doing the trapeze almost looked like she was about to fall and crash onto us and my friend and I was scared OvO; you know fight, flight, and freeze? well I went into flight and my friend went into freeze, but my friend froze at where I was about to flight, but maybe it wasn't so bad that her freezeness stopped me from getting up and dodging, cos luckily the trapeze artist didn't actually fall and was still performing, so brave :o then again I didn't feel like I was in control of my "flight mode", perhaps it was instinct? anywho, I don't think I could ever have the confidence to do that kinda thing because I have basophobia, these people are so brave it's amazing It was also very cool to see people from around the world, and the ring master was a very little buff guy, I think it was dwarfism. I think I had a friend who had that in school once ^w^ my friend was very sweet. the ringmaster was also a clown I think :3 he was a funny guy too ^w^ there was a funny clown girl aswell, she did a few songs :3 I was told that modern clowns don't have the traditional look anymore, I didn't realise that they don't do that anymore with the frilly necks and the honk-honk noses. I think that's kinda sad that, maybe it was seen too much as a "horror" thing.. wish horror didn't have to ruin clowns and kid friendly things all the time.. :< but hey maybe in the future we could bring back traditions and shine some light with the whole clown thing. instead of ruining clowns by making them horror, maybe they could be goofy and funny but in a wholesome way instead ^-^ and maybe they could be cute and sweet like the pastel rainbow and gentle looking ones you often see in little ones things :3 clowns don't have to be scary! Speaking of which, I really like The Amazing Digital Circus aswell :3 it's a really good show and I really look forward to see their future episodes too ^w^ Anyway I had a hotdog and onions at the circus, I never tried it with ketchup and mayo before but it actually went really well with the hotdog ^w^ I think I might try a hotdog like that again :3 normally I have it with bbq sauce so it's good I tried it differently this time today :D I'll definitely try a hotdog like that again ^-^ I also had some fanta orange (the uk one, apparently I heard fanta is different for the americans?) and I had some candyfloss, all during the show UwU I brought my spinny light up wand with me though it was dying out halfway through the show so I figured I should give it a new battery when I'm home or something. also fun fact, I found my blue spinning light up wand when I was at the funfair one time. They were selling white ones at the stand, but someone lost their blue one and never really came back for it :< so I decided to keep it and give it a home because it was still working and still in good condition when I got it, it's a shame someone lost their's tho. and I know they're not here to see this but don't worry it's in a good home now :3 I am proudly autistic and I love colourful lights and rainbow things, so I really like looking at the wand it's fascinating and pretty. I love all my toys ^-^ I have my toy box out so lately I've been thinking about having fun and playing with them soon as age regressing is very comforting to me, it gives me a second chance to have a better childhood this time :> Sadly there hasn't been enough hot days this summer, but we did have a few! few weeks ago I was enjoying a very beachy weekend and I had lots of fun paddling in the sea and in the rockpools, I saw a starfish and even a whole school of fish that were swimming together all at the same time, it was amazing ^w^ they were little skinny fishes, some of them were tryna dig under the sand and I noticed they stick their tails out and I had a wee giggle when I petted their tails that were still sticking out XD I was like helloo I still see your tails lol, some of em either got lazy or played ded while some fully buried after that lol, cute wee things X3 as for the starfish, some of my friends will notice that i shared pictures of them in the furry pack which is my discord server :D I found it peeking under seaweed in a very shallow rockpool so i helped move it to a deeper rockpool with more water to help it survive :3 in one of my beach days, I found a very tired honeybee that was having trouble flying, so I packed it up in a spare tissue and asked the nice peeps at the hotdog stand for a doggy bag, they gave a disposable coffee cup which will do! I was greatful for their help so I put the tired honeybee in there so that I can take it home and give it sugared water and maybe some honey. I'm a modern day hippie, I've rescued bees and took care of a bumblebee before. me and the bumblebee use to chill and eat honey together, I think me and bees both have some things in common: we're always busy, we love flowers and sweet food, and we're all fuzzy 'n' cute! I love bees, but I'm afraid of them, especially when they fly :< but I'd never kill them cos I still like them and appreciate what they do for us. I think it's their stingers that scare me most, but I don't think I get stung by them as I'm a cautious person who likes to step out their way when they fly. but they always go up to me cos they think I'm a flower XD one time I got scared by a bumblebee at the beach this year, I was tryna turn around to run off while I was paddling in the water, and the bee bumped into my head and we both got scared and ran off XDD well the bee flew off but you get what I mean! it was scary at the time but looking back on it now it was pretty funny lol X3 Anywho, back to the honeybee I was talking about. I knew I was gonna be at the beach for a while, so I picked some clover flowers to give to the bee so I can help keep it going for the journey, but sadly when I checked on it, it had already passed away :c r.i.p lil guy, sorry I couldn't save ya :< but at least I did what I could, maybe they passed of old age. bugs don't really live that long.. Ú.Ù I updated the peeps at the food stand and asked if we could recycle the coffee cup (I don't drink coffee btw), I also said thanks again because they also did what they could to help me with rescuing the bee. bees are an important part of the environment so it's important to care for them aswell as the environment. if you see a tired bee on the path, blow on it let it know to fly to a safer place where it wont get stepped on. sometimes I give it a gentle nudge with a leaf if it's extra tired, though if it can't fly well it might be a good idea to care for it, or take it to a safe naturey area with lots of flowers. though I would definitely recommend nursing it back to health especially There was also planes making colours in the sky when I was at the beach in the water, it was super pretty ^-^ I can be at the beach all day playing in the water X3 it's fun! before I catch the bus, I like to get an ice cream on the way home :3 they always sell really cool candies at ice cream shops, I love to buy some at times ^-^ we also get really cool flavours of ice cream here, I love bubblegum flavour ice cream! I also like irn bru ice cream aswell as turkish delight and white choccy flavour, yum! ^w^ I like to get 2 scoops of a different flavour in each one, though it can be hard to pick when there's so many delicious flavours to try <X3 I like alotta things :3 luckily the bus stop has lots of cool benches so I get to enjoy an ice cream while I wait for the bus home which is nice too ^-^ I like passing by the old castle with the highland cows and shetland ponies as I go home, it looks cool and Scotland needs more of that going on here :3 I uh..ran outta things to talk about.. ^-^; hope you liked the journal! :3

Please be nice when commenting! I refuse to be criticised so please accept that. If you're gonna be mean, don't say anything at all. Thankies for checking out my post! Meep meep! ヽ(◕ヮ◕)ﾉ I'm on other places too! ^-^

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Deadly nightshade

Idea by @aestheticpisces

A/n: don’t ask why I called this fic ‘deadly nightshade’ I just did cuz I couldn’t think of anything original and deadly nightshade is normally known for it’s poisonous effects so I decided to equate loosing Steven to ingesting deadly nightshade. Painful.

A/n/n: this was shit near the end I’m sorry.

You were sat there long after Harrow has gotten what he wanted, you however didn’t have the strength. Not when you had just witnessed the other half of your soul getting shot before your eyes; you had to restrain yourself from screaming in fear that either you or Layla would become the next dead body to float besides his. You didn’t know what to do, the loss weighed too heavily on your shoulders yet it was Layla who found the strength to keep going while as you could only crawl towards his body as though you regressed to an infantile state until you were knee deep in blood coloured waters; bringing his body into your arms, ignoring the quickly dampening fabric of your clothes the more you brought him closer to rest his head against your chest. You didn’t flinch at the cold that bite into your skin because you too felt as though you had died then and there.

You ran your hand through his drenched hair, pushing away the strands that clung to his skin as you pressed your forehead against his colder one, praying to feel an ounce of warmth within the vast sea of rigid cold for you to savour, nurture and grow. Yet nothing. It was only a matter of minutes but to you it felt longer, drawn out to excruciatingly painful extents that you sometimes wonder if it was still on going without you being aware of it. “I don’t know if you can hear me but,” you ran your tongue along the dry skin of your bottom lip, fighting back the tightness within your throat as you tried to get a word out without breaking down into a riven of tears. “But please wake up, this isn’t funny. It’s actually quite mean and I don’t like it.” Your vision blurred with unshed tears as you reached a hand to weekly tap his cheek three times, something you always did whenever you wanted Steven’s attention or whenever he was on the brink of falling asleep at work and Donna was nearby. Your mind, body and soul refused to accept that he was gone. That he was taken from you permanently in the worst possible way, instead believing that everything so far has been nothing but a bad dream or a horrific and elaborate prank should he awake and scream ‘surprise.’

Not even that happened. What did however was you mustering the inner strength to drag him out of the watery depths, muttering under your breath of how he’ll catch a cold even though that wasn’t going to be a concern if he was already dead. His face looked between peaceful and pained. You thought to yourself as you eyed his face the best you could through teary vision; His brows were furrowed as though bracing for impact while the rest of him seemed relaxed as though he’s been waiting for this for a long while. Which ever one it was you didn’t know as your mind was searching desperately for ways to cope with the loss in a way that didn’t break you that wouldn’t leave you psychologically scared. The silence was a quiet beyond quiet almost as though you could hear your own thoughts, your breathing, everything from the sounds of sloshing water to the sounds of droplets falling from the fabric of your clothes and onto the floor; Or that could’ve been your tears but you were too numb to tell the difference anymore because nothing mattered anymore and all you wanted to do was lay down beside him and wait for the worse to come so you could join him soon enough. Yet decided against it for squeezing his hand in hopes for a squeeze, a finger twitching, any reaction you could get would be much appreciated. Again, nothing happened.

You took your gaze off of him and instead decided to look towards the decorative ceiling in an almost prayer, “I don’t know whoever is listening but i would really like Marc and Steven back, I’d do anything to have them back but I can’t for I am a mortal and not a deity of omnipotent power. I swear if I was one i would give up everything if it meant getting the man I love and my friends ex-husband back to us. Just give me a sign-“ vigorous coughing cut you off as Marc sat up within your arms, attempting to regain his breath as he looked down as his chest where two matching wounds that should’ve greeted him seemed to have disappeared miraculously. Before he could make sense of it all you brought him tightly against you, gripping at his clothes desperately to make sure he was real beneath your touch that you swore your knuckles were burning with the same need to feel his warmth as you were. “Oh my goodness! Your okay! Your okay! Your okay!” You cried, pulling back to hold Marc’s face in your hands as he started back at you with a sense of melancholy. His eyes looked into you as though he could see your every emotion, your every feeling you’ve ever felt. The smile faltered from your face when you noticed how tightly he was clenching his jaw and the prolonged periods of time where he’d kept his eyes closed as though he was holding back tears of his own.

“Marc, where’s Steven.” Marc inhaled sharply at his alters name as though pained, he grasped your hands in his as he brought them closer to his face so that his face was partially covered; when you were just about to ask why he was hiding and why he was avoiding the question until you felt tears dropping into your hands. They started as little trickles before becoming full blown sobbing that had your heart breaking for the mercenary. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry y/n but…Steven. He…he…” Marc couldn’t finish his sentence as he finds himself hysterically crying into you hands once more. He felt as though he failed you, failed Steven, failing everyone who had ever put even an ounce trust in him. You were probably expecting him to bring Steven back with him but he couldn’t even do that and he HATED himself for it. He couldn’t do anything right, everything he touched eventually dies, he didn’t want you to be the next victim in promise to Steven. God that idiotic dork, having more bravery then Marc ever did in that moment that he couldn’t help but remember that moment fondly but that didn’t last long when he remembered what Steven last said to him besides his name. ‘Take care of y/n for me. Okay?’ His words haunted him all they way back to the realm of the living. He couldn’t even look you in the eye and tell you that the man you were dating was no longer present. That he had valiantly sacrificed himself for Marc’s sake.

“It’s all my fault.” As if you heart couldn’t break anymore just hearing his voice crack beneath the weight he placed upon his shoulders. You had an inkling that there was a reason Marc was the way he was but never asked for it wasn’t your place to ask such personal questions. Yet it must’ve been a cold day in hell if Marc Spector was crying into your hands, relieving himself of the pent up emotions he’s had since god knows when and you knew for a fact it wasn’t healthy. “No, Marc Spector, you’re wrong. You’re not at fault here, you never were.” Your voice, now strong and powerful made the ex-mercenary lift his head to look you in the eyes. “Whatever happened wherever you were it wasn’t you fault for any of it. Steven wouldn’t blame you and I wouldn’t either because I could tell you’ve been through so much shit Marc and came out more harmed then healed. I didn’t get it at first but now I understand why you wanted to keep Steven away from all this,” you waved a hand towards the room you were in with a weak chuckle, “I didn’t appreciate you as much as I should’ve for doing what you were doing. You didn’t have to protect Steven but you did and I could never thank you for that. I don’t think I could ever repay you even if I could, I wouldn’t know where to start.” You wiped away the tears that started to collect at the corner of Marc’s eyes, “I thank you for protecting Steven till the bitter end Marc.” Marc felt tears prickle his eyes when he listened to your every word, waiting for something backhanded to come up but instead found nothing but pure honesty. “Then why do I feel like a failure?” He asked, voiced broken with raw emotions that left him gasping for words to express them within.

You felt tears stream down your cheeks at the revelation that Marc never viewed himself as worthy or as good of a person. Not even once and probably not even during his childhood either. So you grasped his shoulders and brought him into a tight hug, feeling him tightly hug you back as equally as tight while he cried into your shoulder chanting ‘I’m sorry’ under his breath over and over again. “Never say your sorry unless it’s worth apologising for.” You said as you rubbed Marc’s back soothingly, “Steven wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for things out of your control and I don’t want you continuing to think your inherently bad for not being able to save everybody because that’s an unrealistic expectation to put upon someone. And for the record, I think your doing amazing. Your doing amazing Marc and I know Steven thinks that too.” Marc didn’t say much other then squeeze you tightly in his arms as you both sat there in each other’s company in relative silence as you both mourned for the loss of an amazing person.

Without meaning to you began to giggle which made Marc draw back from you as he stared at you as though you had two heads, cocking s brow he asks, “what’re you giggle away about?” You only smiled wider at the memory, “remembering the time Steven chased off a flock of birds in defence of my chips.” Marc couldn’t help but smirk at the visual of Steven giving a pigeon a strict talking to as to why they shouldn’t take your chips as you were standing idly by trying not to laugh. Steven was certainly a character Marc had to admit but a strong character indeed if that goof managed to snag you up with his dork like attributes and interests. He has told Steven how lucky he was to be with someone like you and he hadn’t regret a single word of it as he watched you treasure the memories of him with love and affection that spilled every time you talked anything in relation to Steven. You were defiantly a keeper in Marc’s eyes…if only Steven was here to share the moment with you…”what happened afterwards?” The mercenary asked even though he had already saw this memory and how flustered Steven was when reliving it but loved to get your perspective on it as well. “Steven tripped over his shoelaces and the birds gunned for his chips instead. So out of the kindness of my heart I offered some of my chips to him and knowing Steven he refused, refused, refused but I told him ‘I’m not letting you go without something to eat so eat’ before shoving some of my chips in my polystyrene container.” You both burst out laughing, trying your hardest not to combust on the spot when sharing your favourite memories with Steven to Marc im that you almost forgot that you were meant to take down a cult leader and his cult. Almost.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @janetm74

From and by @janetm74 for @amistrio

Overly competitive baking, 

Searching for a lost item, 

“I think you might have too many decorations.”

First Christmas

Jeff eased his aching body back into the lounge chair his boys had bought him. The couches were great, but his poor body needed something both softer and more supportive. The brown leather La-Z-Boy had been a joke at first, but then when he’d actually tried one when he’d been in the clinic he’d tried one and had been convinced.

He'd watched, highly amused, when both Scott and Virgil had cuffed Gordon around the head when he’s suggested ‘only old people have La-Z-Boys.’

Sighing at the thought, Jeff shifted slightly to get a better view, banishing the thought that he did feel old. Instead, he cleared his throat. 

Time to be a father again.

‘Boys, you’re lop-sided.’

Gordon and Alan stopped what they were doing and looked at him before looking back at their handiwork. Alan stayed knelt on the ground, but Gordon got up and walked over to stand and look at the tree from Jeff’s vantage point. He looked back at his father and grinned.

‘Good catch, Dad! Al, we have too much red and not enough green on the left side.’

He didn’t catch Alan’s grumbled reply, but the terrible two soon rearranged the tinsel so that the colours were more even.

Virgil was going to have a fit when he got back, Jeff decided with a grin, but it was worth it to see his two youngest having so much fun decorating the tree. They’d asked him to help but he wasn’t up to that level of concentrated movement yet, so Jeff had contented himself watching and adding mild comments from time to time.

‘Where are the candy canes?’

Both his boys had the good grace to look guiltily at him, and Jeff burst out laughing. He reached down to the bag he’d placed beside his chair in the knowledge that this would happen and tossed Gordon a new box.

‘Try to get these ones on the tree,’ he chided gently, and they nodded, haphazardly distributing the canes everywhere.

By the time his Ma came up with his meds and a glass of fruit juice – still no coffee yet – the tree was almost done.

Sally looked over and bit her tongue at the state of the tree, but she knew it had been decorated with both love and enthusiasm, rather that the artistic eye of Virgil or the ordered logic of John. Scott would have been even worse for regimented decorations.

‘Boys, go get a drink. There’s cookies too.’ At her grandson’s faces she huffed but relented. ‘MAX made them.’ The two suddenly scrambled up and rushed to the kitchen, much to their father’s amusement.

‘The tree is missing something, Jeff.’

He looked it over more critically. His Ma was right, as always. The topper was missing.

‘The star! I wonder why they haven’t put it up yet.’

‘They’re probably waiting for everyone else to come home. You know it’s tradition for everyone to be present.’

Everyone. That included him this year. His first Christmas. The stirrings of an idea formed as he watched his mother pull out a normal star from the box and place it on the table ready for the eldest three and Kayo to return home.

Yeah. It was a good idea, but he had no idea where it was. Jeff got up, smiled at his Ma and made his unsteady way to the elevator. The others wouldn’t be back for a few hours yet – tackling a smallish bush fire in the outback still took time – and he knew that once Virgil was back he wouldn’t have a spare moment to himself. Now was the only time to do this.

He took the elevator down to the lower level and turned to the storerooms rather than the hangars. Jeff almost faltered when he saw the sheer number of boxes there, but they were mostly labelled in Scott and Virgil’s neat writing and he hoped that would make all the difference.

The rumbling sound and the slight vibration told Jeff his boys and Kayo were back, and he paused to look at his watch. Damn, he’d been down here a good couple of hours and still hadn’t found it. Well, he’d have to sneak out later…

Speaking of the rest of his family being back, he better skedaddle before Virgil – or worse, Scott – came looking for him. Jeff made his way to the hangar knowing he wouldn’t make it back up to the living room. He arrived the same time Virgil, John and Kayo stepped out of Two. 

Jeff smiled as Virgil frowned at him, knowing he’d be in for the inquisition later. As expected his medic son gave him a visual once-over that promised trouble should he have anything more wrong with him than he had when they had gone out on their rescue. Jeff endured it with good grace. His Lucy was just the same whenever any of the boys were sick or had hurt themselves, and Virgil was definitely channelling this side of his inheritance.

John’s smile got broader as Virgil’s ‘once-over’ seemed to go on forever, and Jeff managed a sneaky rueful smile when his middle son’s head was facing the wrong direction. 

‘Dad, why are you down here? Is everything alright?’

‘Yes, Virgil. Everything is fine. I was just stretching my legs. Don’t worry, I took the elevator down.’

The squinty-eyed stare he got in return told him Virgil wasn’t buying that excuse, but Jeff had successfully raised five sons and could hold his own. Eventually Virgil sniffed and smiled.

They made the living room the same time as Scott’s voice rang out clear and slightly resigned:

‘I think you might have too many decorations on that side Gords, Allie.’

Virgil shared an alarmed look with everyone and shot out of the elevator to Gordon’s shout of:

‘Timber!’

‘How could you forget to decorate the other side?’

‘I thought Virgil and Kayo had wedged it against the corner so we only had the one side to decorate.’

‘Allie, your eighteen years old. Has Virgil ever wedged the tree so that only one side needed decorating?’

‘Well, noooo.’

‘But there’s a first time for everything, am I right, Al?’

‘Yeah, Scott. There’s a first time for everything.’

Jeff, John and Kayo watched, highly amused, as Virgil rounded on the terrible two, who so far hadn’t noticed his approach because Alan was buried under the tree and Gordon was valiantly trying to hold up the top.

All three jumped when Virgil’s very annoyed voice was heard.

‘I thought I told you two not to touch the tree.’

‘Err…you did, Virg, but we wanted to surprise you.’

‘Yeah, Gords said you didn’t really mean for us not to get involved. We do this every year, after all.’

‘You do do this every year, Al. And every year I ask you not to touch the tree until we are all together. And every year you don’t wait and end up collapsing the tree.’

By this time Scott and Virgil had stood the tree up and the two youngest were sheepishly looking at each other. Jeff bit his lip trying not to laugh. But he should have known better…

‘Dad was helping and so we thought it was alright.’

Yeah, thanks Allie, Jeff thought as honey-brown and sky-blue eyes turned to him. 

‘Busted,’ whispered John and promptly disappeared with Kayo to the kitchen. Sometimes Jeff wondered why he had so many boys. They were all such a handful.

‘Dad?’ 

‘It’s ok, Virgil. I didn’t leave my chair.’

‘But you did help?’

‘I might have suggested there was a little more red than green.’

Virgil looked at him and there was just a hint of disappointment in his eyes, and Jeff wondered how he had forgotten how important decorating the tree was to his son.

Eight years apart hadn’t helped his memory in a lot of areas.

But then Virgil’s eyes cleared and his son smiled at him, and Jeff felt the years and the sorrow lift.

‘I see. Well, since you know all about decorating, Dad, you won’t mind supervising the competition.’

Jeff looked at him suspiciously. Virgil grinned back. As did Scott and Gordon and Alan. They were up to something – he just didn’t know what. A competition did not bode well – he knew how competitive his boys were with each other – and to supervise an event…he ought to say no. But before he could John and Kayo had arrived with his Ma and Virgil had announced that he was going to supervise this year.

What he was supervising Jeff had no idea about.

That evening the four boys and Kayo decorated the tree under Virgil’s eagle eye while Jeff watched from the comfort of his chair. As the tree began to take form he couldn’t help but see Lucy in everything his boys did. It was in the way Virgil directed them, the way that Scott helped, the way that John laughed, Gordon’s smile and Alan’s joy.

Nights like this always brought home how much he still missed her and how grateful he was that he still had all their boys.

Eventually the tree was completed. Jeff marvelled at the symmetry Virgil always managed to maintain, despite the obvious excess of green in comparison to the other colours of tinsel. The star was set to one side for fitting tomorrow.

Virgil took position at the piano and serenaded everyone with carols and Christmas music. There was humming and quiet singing and Jeff lay back in his chair and drifted off to the sounds of his family.

When he awoke only Scott and John were still up, drinking hot chocolate by the smell of it. Jeff listened to their murmurs as he woke fully, but he didn’t interrupt them other than to bid them good night.

He made his way over to the elevator, but he didn’t go up to his room. Rather, he went back down to the storage rooms, determined to find the object he’d been looking for it.

Jeff jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his arm when he got to the door. Kayo grinned at him and he smiled sheepishly at her. 

‘Figured you’d come back, Jeff.’

‘Kayo. You gave me a heart attack!’

‘Nonsense.’

‘Why are you here?’

‘I’m here to help.’

Jeff held her gaze for a moment before nodding and explaining what he was looking for. They searched for a couple of hours and still he couldn’t find it. Cursing to himself for not taking better care of it, Jeff was just about to call it a night when Kayo gave a quiet call and held up the lost object in her hands.

His face lit up. Now all he had to do was get it onto the tree without his boys finding out – no mean feat and not something he could do on his own. Once again Kayo came to the rescue, promising to hide it in her room until the end of tomorrow.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Jeff knew that there were plans for the day. Val had told him the GDF were going to take care of rescues this Christmas so that they could have three full days off together as a family. And Christmas Eve was traditionally the day Lucy topped the tree. 

It was more than fitting that he be able to use her special item to do so this year.

Yawning, Jeff finally made his way to bed, grateful that he didn’t need to pass the boys’ bedrooms to do so. He had no idea what his family had planned for tomorrow, but if it included a competition then he needed his wits about him. 

Everyone was up by the time Jeff stirred. He rued once more the changes that eight years away had wrought. Before he would have been up with Scott and Gordon, putting the coffee on and settling down to work. Scott would be the one to bring him coffee after his run and the two of them would discuss business before Gordon would join them, slurping one of his green smoothies as obnoxiously as possible.

God, he missed those days.

But dwelling on what if’s never was the Tracy way, and he was up and ready as fast as possible. Nothing prepared him for the state the kitchen was in.

There were six stations created spread over the large room. Two on the kitchen table and two on two trestle tables set up. Jeff’s eyes went wide as he saw the sheer quantity of equipment set on a separate table and once more he wondered what he’d let himself in for.

His Ma entered the kitchen and gave him a juice and a smile.

‘Thanks, Ma. What’s going on?’

‘They’ve been waiting all morning for you.’

He frowned at her cryptic reply, but she hadn’t finished.

‘Breakfast is out on the patio. Hurry up and don’t keep everyone waiting. Penny and I are off to the mainland for the day.’

She looked him over with  slight frown.

‘Don’t let Gordon burn the kitchen down again.’

Jeff was aware that his mouth was hanging open as his Ma patted his cheek and left. Whatever was planned was obviously one that had become a tradition. It wasn’t one that he remembered, and he smiled at the thought of learning something else about his remarkable boys.

That they baked was not lost on him. Jeff knew that Scott and John were the cooks of the household – they had both proved that when their Mom had died and the two had stepped up to cover the loss of both parents for that dark time. That the others had followed suit was no great surprise either, and even his Ma’s warning about Gordon fitted perfectly.

Better get out there and see if the hords had left him anything to eat.

Of course, Virgil had set aside a plate of eggs and bacon and a plate of fruit with another glass of juice. Everyone was still eating, so it wasn’t as late as Jeff had thought, and the babble around the table didn’t stop as he joined them. The discussion was about plans for the day and tomorrow, yet no one touched on the kitchen and what was going to happen in there.

Five boys had given Jeff more patience than living on the Moon ever had. He could play the waiting game. Sure enough, once breakfast had been finished and cleared away. He sat and waited.

He didn’t have to wait for long.

Alan was the one who came to fetch him and ‘escort’ him into the kitchen. Another table had been set up, a small one, with a chair and he was ceremonially walked over and sat down. Gordon put a paper crown on his head and Jeff bit his lip trying not to laugh out loud. They were all so serious.

Predictably it was Scott who started the ball rolling.

‘Every year on Xmas Eve we have a baking competition to find out who has the best gingerbread house. Each year there is a different theme, we all make plans and then Virgil and Brains make the templates as we request and we spend today baking. Normally Penny and Grandma judge whose is the best.’

There was a murmur from everyone and Scott broke out into a grin.

‘This year it seems appropriate that you get to be the judge.’

Well, this wasn’t what Jeff had expected at all. But he couldn’t help but grin at his six children. Here were six of the most dedicated, most amazing people he’d ever had the honour of knowing…and they were making gingerbread houses. God he loved them so much.

‘I would be honoured. What do I have to do?’

‘Just make sure no one cheats by trying to sabotage someone else’s creation and then decide whose is the best.’

‘Is there a timescale? How do you decide whose house gets into the oven first?’

‘Brains has an oven that will take everything so they all get done together. Then about an hour’s drying time, however long to put everything together and then three hours before they can be decorated.’

‘Do you all know what each other is making?’

‘We do.’

Jeff thought back to the daytime show his Ma had got him hooked on (not that he would admit that to anyone).

‘Ready. Set. BAKE!’

He watched with interest as gingerbread was made and rolled out and cut. Jeff couldn’t help but be amazed as dough was shaped around various items to make curves and funnels. He’d purposely not asked what the theme was, wanting to work it out for himself, and at one point seeing one of the boys shaping gingerbread into what looked like a giant but very shallow Bundt tin caused him to really wonder what on earth they were creating.

He followed them all as they marched down to Brains’ lab for baking.

The time taken to bake the pieces was used in designing whatever decorations they wanted before they all made the return journey and brought their creations up. The time needed for the gingerbread to set hard was also spent on making decorations, and it came to no surprise to anyone that by the end of those couple of hours Gordon had a red back of the hand from trying to steal food from Alan’s station.

Alan, it seemed, was taking no prisoners and had a wooden spoon dedicated just for smacking his immediate brother’s hand away. There was obviously some history there, one that came as no surprise to Jeff. His fourth-born son was chaos wrapped in sunshine.

The putting together of the houses gave Jeff pause. As they began to come together he could see that these were like no houses he’d ever seen, but it was clear what was being made pretty quickly. He heart swelled.

At least three hours was going to be needed for the holding time, and it was interesting to see how each had used various equipment to keep their creation stable while it dried. Everyone was banished from the kitchen to the patio, where to Jeff’s surprise lunch had been created and served. 

Time had flown by and it was most definitely past noon when they all began a long lunch break. Chatter flowed smoothly, in contrast to the near-absolute quiet in the kitchen, and Jeff listened and laughed at the smack talk he’d have associated with their school years rather than the mature adults they now were, each one convinced that theirs would be the best. He asked questions when he could.

He wasn’t sure how he felt when he was told this was started by Virgil as a way to get Scott to relax and John to come home. How it had grown from just having something familiar for Christmas to a bonding moment. How once they all had been taught to bake it had turned into a competition to see who could best the last year’s offering.

Currently, Scott was winning with John and Alan tied for second place.

Time flew and before he knew it everyone was back in the kitchen to decorate their creations. There was no time limit to this one, and they all took their time to get it right.

But finally, well into the evening, the six gingerbread creations were ready. 

The kitchen table had been cleared and the six incredible creations had been placed on it for his judging. Jeff adjusted his crown and walked around the table, his most serious expression on his face.

They had been joined by his Ma, Penny, Parker and Brains, who all sat along the window watching in amusement as Jeff dragged the judging out, making comments on little details and generally creating groans and cheers from his children.

In the end he had made his mind up. It had not been easy, and he once more marvelled at how his boys and Kayo seemed to be able to turn they hands to anything.

‘It has not been easy to judge this competition, what with six highly creative gingerbread houses to choose from.

‘Each one is an absolute representation of its creator. The decorations, coloured to be total matches, how you managed to put the windows in, the curves…I am completely blown away by you all.

‘But only one of you can be the winner, and today it is going to be…’

As expected his two youngest began to tap their thighs in a drum roll while the eldest four rolled their eyes.

‘John.’

Jeff walked across to them, taking the crown off his own head and placing it on John’s. his quietest son blushed deep red as everyone congratulated him before they all gathered around the table.

On the table sat six gingerbread Thunderbirds.

How John had managed to get his station to be so perfectly round…that had explained the Bundt tin…but the icing and the ‘International Rescue’ along the outside had been the tipping factor for Jeff.

They left the ships there to be consumed tomorrow and retired to the living room, where the smell of hot food almost caused a stampede (until Gordon remembered a certain Lady was present). They had bought back from the mainland pizza since everyone had slaved away all day, and it wasn’t long before the only sounds were contented munching.

After everyone had eaten their fill Kayo caught Jeff’s eye and raised an eyebrow. He nodded and she left the room momentarily, bringing the wrapped item the two of them had found last night.

Jeff carefully held the package, a soft smile on his face. Something must have shown, for when he looked up the room was silent and his boys were looking at him expectantly.

He cleared his throat.

‘I thought that, with your permission, we could top the tree with this tonight instead of the star you have.’

Gently, very very gently, Jeff unwrapped the tissue paper until another star appeared. From the sharp intake of breath from his eldest three Jeff could tell they remembered and his smile widened.

In his hands was a star with five points. Each point was a different colour and had the names of each of his sons on the points, with his and Lucy’s names in the middle. The boys had each written their own names on when they had been able to spell them, and the writing was shaky and all different sized letters as only young children did.

Jeff passed it to Scott who took it just as carefully, and he watched with pride as Scott helped Alan to place it on the top of the tree.

They all stood back and looked. There was silence as the tree was contemplated before Scott turned to him

‘It feels like she’s still here, looking after us all, Dad.’

‘Yes, Son, it does.’

‘Merry Christmas, Dad.’

‘Merry Christmas, Scott.’

...

[finelinevogue]

for tour content, maybe you could do an imagine that’s like a series of small moments like little interactions on stage or picking tour outfits or nights in the tour bus/airplane ! just little domestic things <3

i’m going to do this because i have so many weird ideas and just no way of putting them all together ! ;

Grilled Cheese Conversations

The tour bus smelt like it was on fire.

You had been sitting in the living room with Harry for a couple of hours, both of you just skimming through photos from the Met Gala together - judging obviously, before Harry announced he wanted to make himself some food and so left for the kitchen.

He’d been in there for 45 minutes now and the smells that were diffusing from their smelt bloody awful. Harry could cook really extravagant foods, like caviar and lobster, but when it came to something as simple as making a sandwich he was absolutely terrible for some reason. The point was proven when he walked back into the room with a burnt coal looking sandwich.

“What, is that?” You laughed, still sitting with your phone in your hand and waiting for him to come back so you could continue judging these Met outfits together.

“It’s a grilled cheese sandwich?” He spoke as if you were dumb and you should have known that instantly. He walked over to you, sitting down next to you and resting the plate on the table in front of him.

“No, that’s a piece of char.” You raised your eyebrows disapprovingly and watched as he scowled at you for being mean to his culinary skills.

“Well i’m sure it’ll taste great.” He looked smug, up until he took a bite from the cheesy melted - burnt - bread. As soon as the food touched his tongue he was quick to spit it back out again, you groaning in disgust. He pushed the plate away and looked at it in anger. “45 bloody minutes and it tastes of burnt wood.”

“I’m not even going to ask why you know that.” You raised your hands and laughed, watching as he turned to scowl at you again. He had quite the angry face when he wanted to. “Sorry, alright! Do you want me to go make you one?” You asked, sitting up to go and make him one if he wanted.

Harry pulled you into his lap so you were sat with your back to his front, his arms looping around your waist tightly to keep you with him. His chin rested on your shoulder and he kissed your cheek because he could. “No. Stay w’me.” He got all cuddly and soft and you loved it when Harry was like this. He was like a life-size version of your stuffed teddy bear you used to sleep with at night - all cute and cuddly.

“Okay, okay.” You calmed him when he thought you were just going to get up and go. “Let’s judge some people again.” You pulled out your phone and opened it to a twitter account which had posted all of them.

“Where did we get up to?” Harry asked, fiddling with the skin on your stomach as his hands snaked beneath your hoodie.

“Um, Kim K.” You clicked on the image of her and tried to hold back the laugh. It was a dreadful outfit and highly meme worthy, so you’ve heard.

“Well…” Harry sighed, reaching his own hand to swipe seeing as he didn’t have anything more to say on this particular one.

“Billie looked beautiful.” You smiled as Billie’s huge dress came on display, looking a fluffy pink marshmallow dream. She looked very Monroe with her makeup and you were always so shocked when people told you her age, because she looked so mature.

“She must’ve taken inspiration from Marilyn Monroe.” Harry added, nodding in approval of Billie’s outfit.

“More so than bloody Addison Rae.” You laughed, thinking about how far that had been from the truth.

“Addison who?” Harry asked and it made you smile and turn your head around to look at him. He looked down at you, noticing the cheeky glint in your eyes and couldn’t help but steal a glance at your beautiful lips.

“This is why I love you.” You sighed happily and gave him a kiss on the lips, cupping his cheek to direct him better. You were only going for a peck, but Harry made it that you got the full taste of him and kissed you for a minute longer. He felt perfect against you and you really did just simply love him.

“Yeah,” Harry broke from the kiss for a brief moment to tell you something important, “and I love you.”

••••

All Things Sparkles

It was an hour before the Dallas show and Harry was getting ready for another big show.

Dallas were known for being crazy and you were so excited for the energy they’d bring for Harry tonight. Harry always enjoyed the shows more when the crowd was actually ecstatic to be there and he knew Dallas wouldn’t let him down.

He was putting on his silk trousers, Lambert just to the side as he was ironing the shirt to get rid of all its crinkles. Your Harry currently looked so funny in his Gucci silk trousers, his bright yellow socks with bananas all over them, his suspenders hanging down by his sides and no shirt on as of yet. It was the socks that really pieced everything together. He had just had his hair and makeup done, just needing to get dressed before he was completely ready.

He was really glowing tonight. It made you happy to see him like this.

You were watching him through the vanity mirror as you touched up your own makeup, adding highlighter to the areas you wanted to shine a little brighter. You also started adding some gems around your eyes, wanting to be a bit different tonight along with your glittery eye shadow that you didn’t normally do. You were glueing your gems when you felt your boyfriends presence behind you, the heat of his bare chest radiating against the skin of your back.

“You look stunning, m’love.” You looked up through the vanity to catch his gaze, he smiled and you smiled back.

“Thank you. Not too bad looking y’self.” You cheekily replied, motioning towards his bare chest. “Are y’going to be keeping that out all night?” You asked, being hopeful that he would, because fuck it was hot, but also wouldn’t, because you wanted this part of him all to yourself.

“You’d like that wouldn’t y’yeah.” He squinted his eyes at you and nodded, a clear sign that no his tits were not going to be out for Dallas. “Up.” He spoke, lifting you up from under your armpits and walking around the chair so that he could sit down himself. He plonked you right back on top of his lap and watched as you leant forwards to add another gem to the corner of your eye.

“Y’putting me off.” You whined, your ass leaning right back onto the hard of his cock. He couldn’t keep soft around you, that was his kryptonite.

“Oh i’m sorry. It’s not like m’girlfriend is just sitting there looking ridiculously beautiful and yet so innocent.” He leaned forwards to whisper the rest of his words, because they were only for you. “Just look so fuckable right now.”

You had to bite your tongue from turning around and shoving it down his throat, because god did his words make you want to jump his bones. “Shut up, before y’get us both in trouble.” You wiggled your ass back over his cock as you sat back to admire the work of the gems brightening up around your eyes.

“Then stop being a fuckin’ tease.” He grabbed your hips and stopped your from moving anymore. You just smiled and put the lid back on the glue before it went everywhere, especially over Harry’s expensive clothing - even the banana socks were £17.

You looked at him through the mirror to find him already looking at you. You blushed quietly as you watched him take in your beauty. It was quite hard to get over just how ethereal he looked tonight and it made you so feral knowing he was all yours and only yours. Looking down at the gems you got an idea.

“Do y’want me to put some gems on y’too?” You asked, pointing to the ones around your eyes and thinking that he’d looked even prettier with some around his.

“Only if i’m matching w’you yeah.” Harry nodded excitedly. You got up from the chair and swizzled yourself around until you were sat back on his lap, only this time straddling him. You were so close to him now that it was getting ridiculously harder to stop yourself from taking him here and now. You leant down, instead, and gave him a lasting kiss on the skin covering his heart. Your lips lingered there for a moment, before you moved back up to see him already staring down. He smiled when he saw the stain of your lipstick printed over where his heart beat. “I proper love you, Y/N.” He smiled and cupped your chin in his fingers to bring your lips to him.

“No!” Lambert shouted, making you two pause. “You two’ll never stop if you start, so don’t start until after the bloody show.” He rolled his eyes and continued with his ironing, making you and Harry chuckle feeling like high-school kids.

“Okay, now stay still.” You spoke as you glued the first gem and held it steady against the corner of his eye. He wanted to keep his eyes open to keep looking at you, because that’s all he ever wanted to do, but you instructed him to close them just to be on the safer side. It went on easy, sticking to the outer corner of his eye, in a soft white colour that matched his trousers. Yours were the same creamy white colour to match the colour of your dress.

“Do I look pretty yet?” Harry asked rhetorically, but you replied anyways.

“Y’look pretty always.” You kissed the top of his nose whilst you glued the other gem. He closed his eyes as you told him to, but he still smiled at your words. You concentrated as you stuck the gem to the corner of the other eye and sat back to make sure they were even. Harry opened his eyes to see you making sure they looked good. “S’perfect.”

“Like you then.” He hummed in appreciation of you.

“Let’s see then.” Lambert asked, making you both turn in the chair to face him and you readjusting yourself so you were sat back against his chest. “Oh yes! Okay this is photo worthy.” Lambert took out his phone and held it up to face you both, making sure you could see the gems.

“I don’t even have a shirt on!” Harry exclaimed, but held you close anyways as you smiled for the photos and his words making you belly laugh. You posed more seriously for a few and then took a few silly ones to. Your favourite one, though, was one where you were laughing so happily and Harry was looking at you and smiling in awe over you.

He set it as his lock screen. You set it as yours. It would stay that way until your new favourite photos became your wedding day photos.

••••

Sign Of The Times

Tonight was the first Love on Tour show you were attending, only having missed opening night in Las Vegas.

Harry knew that you were coming, but you’d told him to source you out within the crowds because you wanted a full fan experience. You’d gotten the all-clear from Harry’s security, allowing your from backstage and straight through into the cherry pit. You had your lanyard and your sign ready, as fans started to pile in. You were originally going to go straight to the barricade, but you thought the fans deserved that more than you so you hung back and stayed the ends of the crowds.

A few fans spotted you and came up to asking for photos, so you did. Posing with your mask on was weird because you still smiled underneath the mask even though it wouldn’t be seen in the photo. Some fans asked whether they could stay and dance with you ask night to which you were so happy for, because dancing alone would’ve been embarrassing even for you.

The intro for golden started and the crowds were deafening, but all you could think about was your boyfriend and his challenge to spot you within the crowds. Golden and Carolina came and went, you dancing like a crazed fan along with all your new friends. Everyone was so happy and some were even crying tears of joy.

There was just love, love, love, everywhere.

Harry came to his first pause and took a quick drink since he was already quite hot and the altitude in Denver was crazy.

“Good evening Denver!” He shouted into the mic, waiting for the screams of his fans to uproar and then settle before speaking on, “The altitude is crazy here. I’ve barely done anything and I can’t breathe!” He spoke, making you slightly anxious for him but you knew he would be okay because he had an oxygen tank on stage. “Now, m’girlfriend is somewhere here tonight and i’ve gotta find Y/N before I lose the challenge.”

The fans around you started screaming that you were here and the message kept on getting passed down the crowds until they reached the front. Harry was walking around your side of the stage until he met the fans at the front saying that you were behind them. Harry held his hand over his eyes to help him find you better and you held up your sign to help him. Your sign had taken you all of 5 minutes to doodle, but the message was clear;

“I want a kiss from the one in suspenders.”

“There y’are.” He laughed when he saw your sign, dropping his mic and leaning over himself to catch his breathe from the belly laugh that he just let out. You smiled when you saw him laugh, the fans around you screaming and thanking you for making him be this way. Harry stood up and looked at you, messing with his earpiece so he could hear the arena better.

“Kiss me!” You shouted and the people around you were also shouting for him to kiss you. Even with masks on Harry could clearly understand the message.

“I wanna kiss you but I can’t!” He spoke through his mic and his voice echoed throughout the arena, making everyone scream and you simply blush. You knew he couldn’t come and just give you a kiss, it would be too dangerous, but he sent you loads of blown kisses instead and you kept them all. You sent your own back and he stuffed them all in his back pocket, before moving on to his next song before he got told off.

“Damn, he really loved you.” One of your new fans friends says next to you and all you could think was; yeah, yeah he does.

••••

My Only Angel*

For four hours he had been gone.

Four hours since he was in this hotel room with you. Four hours since you had first started acting like a brat. Four hours since he’d gotten fed up of our attitude and tied you up and left a vibrator pulsing against your clit. Four hours since your first orgasm, four minutes since your last.

The whole time Harry had been on stage, all he could think about was you being bound tight in his hotel room and dripping wet from the number of orgasms you would’ve had. He knew you’d never be able to hold yourself for four hours, so he didn’t say you couldn’t cum only he forgot to mention that the number of times that you did cum would be the number of times he denied you later on in the evening. Harry had gotten especially hard performing Only Angel, because that was your song that he’d written for you and then fucked you countless times to. Fans noticed, but put it down to the adrenaline of being onstage rather than the thought of his girlfriend being tied up and overstimulated back in his hotel room.

You just came down from the high of another orgasm when Harry walked through the door. You sighed when you saw him, thinking this would finally be it and he’d let you go free now you’ve suffered your punishment. That was wishful thinking, however.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Harry pretended, wanting to tease you as much as possible, as he walked past you and hung his jacket on the back of a chair.

“H-harry.” You sighed, squeezing your eyes when you moved and felt the vibrator hit and new and exciting angle. You moaned quietly and had to suppress the embarrassing cries you wanted to let out.

“Yes?” Harry moved so he was standing at the edge of the bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt one-by-one. He looked so hot with his sleeves rolled and the suspenders already dropped down to his sides.

“I-I please s-st- enough.” You whimpered, pulling on the restraints to try and stop it yourself but you’d already tried that one too many times and nothing has come of it.

Your wrists were slightly red and bruised from all the tugging you’d been doing and Harry noticed that as he peeled away his shirt from his body. He threw the silk shirt somewhere else in the room and walked over to the right side of the bed, sitting down to get a closer look at your wrists. He leant down to give it a gentle rub and a kiss. You sighed in delight at the feeling of his cool lips burn against your flaming skin. Harry sat up and tilted your face to the side so you could face him, slight tears in your eyes. He looked at you for a few moments, taking in the shear beauty of you and your glorious body, before making sure you were alright.

“What’s your colour, baby?” He asked you gently, stroking your cheek and then running his thumb along your bottom lip with a soft pull.

“G-green.” You nodded and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you on your desperate lips. You basked in the taste of him, closing your eyes like you needed to save this moment to memory forever. You loved him like this, when he was dominant with you. He let you be submissive like you wanted to be.

“That’s my good girl.” He leaned back from you and moved onto the bed more, straddling your bare body. The silk of his pants felt erotic against your hot skin and you moaned at the dreamy sensation. He ran his large, ringed, hands up and down your body, feeling every curve and crevice. He massaged your boobs lightly in his hands, up and down your stomach and to your inner thighs behind him. You hummed at the feeling, gasping when Harry finally turned off the vibrator and moved it away from you. You felt lighter from freedom all of a sudden.

“T-hank you.” You breathed out, opening your eyes to meet his electric green ones. Wow, he looked beautiful - still slightly sweaty and hot from his concert.

“Don’t thank me yet, angel.” He grinned as he took down his trousers and pants, pushing them to the floor with his foot.

He didn’t even wait for you to register what was going on before he slipped himself inside of you. You loved the feeling so greatly, but your clit was still so sensitive. You shuddered as he picked up his pace and thrusted into you harder and harder, faster and faster. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, made you arch your back and your toes curl and then feeling if him so deep inside of you was enough to make you cum already, again.

“Feel s-so good.” You looked at him and saw the desire within his eyes. He was so full of lust right now, because the sight of you tied up with him pounding into you is better than simply imagining it. Nothing could feel more euphoric than this, both of you were sure of that.

“Yeah? Feel me all around you? So perfect f’me. M’beautiful angel.” Harry moaned out, cupping one of his hands around your throat and pushing you deeper into the mattress, whilst his other hand went to cup your breasts and give them the devotion they deserved.

Everything felt everywhere.

His rocks became sloppier as he reached his high, yours approaching much sooner than you thought it would. You were surprised you actually had anything left in you. His cock hit a spot inside of you that made you scream out and he felt you collapse around him all at once, causing his own release to quickly follow. He continued to fuck you through your release and bent himself over to press his lips to yours. He felt and tasted amazing, you couldn’t get enough. It would never be enough.

“Love you so much.” You spoke the best you could and Harry released his hand from your throat, leaning down to kiss it softly. He reached over to your hands to untie them afterwards, giving them both a few kisses over your wrists when he saw the harsh marks. Your arms were so tired that they just fell to your sides, but Harry kept on touching you softly; stroking your messy hair away from your face and caressing your cheek softly as if he hadn’t just fucked you raw. He kept his face close to you as he whispered the words that would stay imprinted on your heart forever.

“I love you, Y/N.”

[saintgoths]

i have an idea ever since you posted ellie and rose, how about a crossover of rose in the TLOU but instead of the magical attributes she has how about her being immune just like ellie? can they have a romantic crush as well please?

anon you have done so much damage to me! i hope i didnt take too long writing this i just wanted a good imagine between the both of them. my asks are still open for imagines until i continue posting chapters of a song of thorns once again!

PECULIAR AFFINITY

WORD COUNT - 2,202

RATING - G [JUST FLUFF, BONDING AND ANGST, ALSO ROSE WINTERS MEETING SOMEONE LIKE HER BUT IN A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE].

It’s been about three weeks since Rose Winters has moved into the society of Jackson and in the start, she hadn’t really found the appeal to hang around with anyone and mostly kept to herself. Aside from her distant state, the girl was conveyed to be kind, respectful and graceful no matter how much she tried to blend in the crowd, her appearance still struck the attention of a specific trio.

Like other members in Jackson, the three observed that she was one to herself, so they didn’t try and bother her, but they wouldn’t have minded it if Rose came up to them in the time period, she felt most comfortable in. Yet, Jesse, who was the only male in the trio, was the one who had the assurance and fortitude to come up to Rose; he always made sure he greeted her during the morning and bid her a goodbye during the night.

Had complimented the fingerless black gloves she would always wear, Jesse would also make a mental note that it was something she never took off, had theorised that maybe Rose thought it went really well with her outfit. Rose normally wore an olive-green jacket with a dark grey dip hoodie beneath, with blue distressed skinny jeans with a pair of white height top sneakers. The girl was never seen without her black baseball cap as well and from time to time she held a notebook that appeared jittery.

Uprightly, it appealed to her appearance, Jesse couldn’t deny that Rose was truly a pretty girl, with her blonde hair and light-coloured eyes, Rose wasn’t an individual you could overlook, as much as she didn’t want to, she stood out.

“Good night, Rose,” Jesse once again welcomed, Rose hadn’t seen Jesse throughout the entire day, and if Rose was being upright, Jesse was the only friend Rose had right now, justly, it was a fault of hers since she didn’t really make the effort to interact with others.

“Hi Jesse,” Rose attentively greeted the tall man, her smile wide and cordial, inquisitive to whatever Jesse had to say. Whenever the two met up, Jesse would usually talk her ear off before they parted ways, Rose actually liked the fact that she didn’t have to be the first one to begin the friendship between her and Jesse, prior, it would usually be her and the bonds wouldn’t last for long.

“There’s a party going on right now, I’d like for you to come,” he genially requested with a generous and noble appearance on his face that restrained Rose to say no.

How could she say no? Jesse had been so kind to her for her to accept the invitation was the least she could do. Although her face expression was unsure, she shrugged her shoulders and arms in approval, “why not.”

Contended, Jesse patted her head, delighted and blithe of her endorsement. “I knew I could count on you!”

Thankful that Jesse didn’t leave Rose’s side when he brought her to where the rest were. Even though majority of them greeted her they carried on to what they were doing before she entered the atmosphere, the ones that were mainly receptive and accessible to Rose were Jesse’s closest friends Ellie and Dina, two gorgeous open-minded women, friendly and communicative. Well, the most communicative one was Dina, Ellie said a couple of words ere she resumed drinking from her plastic cup.

“Oh, by the way this is Ellie’s eighteenth birthday party,” Jesse briskly mentioned with an insightful and impish look on his face while Ellie lightly groaned in comedic disdain for the man.

“My birthday doesn’t really matter, but you two still threw a party anyways,” Ellie muttered, aside from her evident ache of the event, she was still grateful that her friends were thoughtful enough to do this.

Quiet, Rose watched the trio speak and annoy each other, heartfelt, Rose had thought what it would have been like if she was in a friendship group like them.

“Why do you wear those gloves all the time?” Dina curiously questioned, surely not in a manner to make Rose feel uncomfortable, Dina’s stance was more inquisitive to Rose’s rather attachment to the pair of fabric.

It grew hushed between the group and Rose awkwardly looked at her fingerless gloves anteriorly she looked at Dina. “I just like wearing them,” Rose languidly replied, ostensibly not wanting to speak more about them.

The three were keen enough to observe that Rose was put off by Dina’s question, Jesse curved to look at Ellie in hopes to save the graceless conversation. “Ellie, how about you take Rose to get some drinks?”

Able and gaffed, Ellie pushed herself off the tall table prepared to direct Rose to where the beverages were. “I’ll apologise for Dina, she doesn’t mean it in a rude way when she asked about your gloves and all, Dina is a cool person,” Ellie gracelessly atoned during the moment they strolled down the premises.

“It’s okay, I can tell that Dina’s a nice person and she didn’t mean it that way,” Rose briefly glanced down at the pair of fabric that capped majority of Rose’s hands.

“Nice gloves though,” Ellie shortly complimented.

Beholden and contended, Rose graciously simpered at the auburn-haired girl. “Thank you, and happy birthday by the way.”

“Appreciate it,” Ellie genially breathed as she reached for a drink for the blonde-haired girl. When she passed the bottled beverage to Rose, she took another one for herself, the new citizen hummed a thanks before she started to drink the brew, the two women stood in the same spot in comfortable silence, possibly the muteness was there because they didn’t know what to talk about, Ellie had thought it would have been precise if the two had known each other earlier but it could be conveyed that the freckled girl was too shy to make a move considering Rose always seemed like she wanted to be on her own.

“The moment you came into Jackson, I wanted to speak to you but it seemed like you just wanted to be on your own.” Ellie aimlessly mentioned.

Rose courteously smiled. “Well, in the beginning I did want to be left alone, so you got that right.”

Ellie gently laughed through her nose at Rose’s comment, her drink close to her chest while the loud noises of teenagers sprayed the room. Ellie took a brief look at the comers of her surprise birthday party and looked back at Rose with a suggestive look on her face. “Do you want to talk outside?” She neighbourly suggested to the new girl who benevolently beckoned her head in agreement.

Ellie with conviction led Rose outside the building, her tattooed arm hastily caught the attention to the Winters girl, a recognisable imprint and blemish stunning the capped girl, to Rose it was evident that Ellie had tried to use the permanent ink to mask the scar. Yet the imprint was far too detectable for Rose to overlook it.

“We had a bonfire before we went inside,” Ellie gingerly conveyed to the girl as she led Rose to the large logs they could sit on and get comfortable. “Everyone was actually too scared to come up to you when you first came,” Ellie gently laughed as she remembered the comments people would make of Rose, they weren’t negative, the comments were oriented about how unapproachable and mysterious she seemed.

“Well, I didn’t think my resting face was that bad,” Rose replied evidently humoured, “I guess my face was the main thing that stopped me from having friends, I guess.”

Ellie peered at Rose contrite and apologetic. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, you’re not ugly---”

“I know what you mean, don’t worry, Ellie,” Rose giggled at Ellie’s sorrowful demeanour as she placed her thumb over the opening of her bottle and rested her chin against the back of her hand. Thoughtful of the blemish on Ellie’s arm occurred in her head. “For a long time, I’ve always wanted to meet someone who was just like me,” Rose tenderly muttered, somewhat warmly contended that someone shared the same issue as her.

Confused, Ellie gazed at Rose who gently gestured to the tattooed area on Ellie’s skin, immediately caught onto what the new girl implied about, the auburn-haired girl eyes widened, taken aback and surprised. Speechless, Ellie rested on the large log, stunned that she has met someone just like her.

Ellie didn’t know if she should laugh or cry, yet she loudly exhaled in an emotional consolation and release. She covered her face with her free hand during the moment she pulled herself together as Rose watched Ellie gently break down, moreover, the crack Ellie got herself together, she curved to look at Rose who had an understanding expression on her face, comprehensive on how tiring it was to be different and to hide a part of herself from the world. “Where’s your bite?”

As she sat up straight, Rose peered and examined the atmosphere to make sure that no one was there to see them. When the light-haired girl was sure that they were safe, she gently, pulled off the fingerless glove that capped and masked the blemish that was imprinted on the meat of her thumb that spread to her palm. “I got the bite a year ago, when I was sent to look for supplies for the group I was in, it was a Stalker that got me. I was so scared for what was going to happen to me.”

“When I came back with the supplies, I countlessly apologised to the group, I remember my mouth went numb and sore due to the number of times I said I was sorry, looking back at the way I reacted it was quite stupid,” Rose scoffed at herself at reminiscence of the day, “but I think there would’ve been numerous of people who would’ve apologised for being stupid enough to get bitten.”

Saddened by her words, Ellie patiently watched and listened to Rose during the time period she charitably explained about her experience. “Yet, I was sorry for my mother and I was sorry for my already deceased dad who sacrificed so much for me.”

“And what did they do?” Ellie’s voice was gentle but tousled, her face inquisitive and impertinent to Rose’s story.

Rose looked over at Ellie, her smile short but genuine, grateful for what her previous group had suggested for her but also grateful for Ellie’s listening ear. “They said that when they notice me changing they will mercifully kill me, it was the only thing they could do. To protect themselves, their children and all,” Rose sheepishly replied, “and then nothing happened, but the bite was healing, we were all confused, as days progressed, three days, five days, a week, a month, three months, five…” she shook her head mildly surprised she was still here. “But nothing happened.”

“On the other hand, the only thing that changed were that everyone I knew died.”

Rose had mentioned that it was her mother who had knitted fingerless gloves Rose had always worn, the girl had slipped back the mitten to cap her left hand once again whilst Ellie had conveyed, she had somewhat been through the same thing, but in Ellie’s tale, she wasn’t looking for supplies and just wanted to play with her friend Riley for one last time.

“We were in a mall full of infected, I don’t know what we were thinking, but we were living our best lives before everything happened.”

Exchanging the composure and diligence Ellie had shared for her and calmly listened to Ellie’s narrative.

“To watch everyone, you loved die around you because of a bite, and you outliving those who’ve barely lived their life, outliving those who were alive before the infection took over, despite the fact that you have the same infection that killed almost every single person you have known, it gets exhausting, and I feel guilty and remorseful, like I—I don’t deserve to be here.”

“I’m still waiting for my turn,” Rose softly commented, she shared the same guilt and remorse Ellie had felt for years, the same emotions and conscience Ellie had retained.

Ellie tenderly laughed at Rose. “I once said the same thing to someone,” the freckled girl conveyed. “I’m still waiting for it to overtake me.”

“Then together, we should wait it out,” Rose smiled, “grow paranoid due to expecting the infection to take control of us even if it could take decades or more.”

Ellie laughed once more ere she swallowed the liquor from her bottle. Once she finished her sip, she focused on the blonde girl who gently simpered at her behaviour. “I don’t mind waiting out with you, for decades or more.”

Rose’s gracious beam grew in content and of satisfaction of the additional fresh pact she had made with Ellie, moved and enthusiastic about the future experiences she would share with the woman who shared the peculiar affinity with her.

Comfortable in each other’s presence, the two resumed and talked each other’s ears off until they flame from the bonfire finally settled and perished.

thank you to those who have made it to the end! liking, commenting, reblogging or following would be much appreciated! my asks are open for more imagines/oneshots about TLOU characters before i resume posting a song of thorns! i dont mind doing more crossovers but i would happily do it if it involve other characters i know.

magneticsiren

♆

[cabinofimagines]

Holi-day one; Cabin Competition

I am honoured to be the first one to write for our December fest. I will also be the second and third so please don’t get sick of me to early-

Pairing: PLATONIC Frank, Hazel, Percy x gn!reader (some more are mentioned) Word count: ~800 Warnings: None

- Asnyox

mlist - next ->

As the visitors for the winter holidays started arriving at camp, everyone noted how dull camp was for this time of year. You see, last year there were a lot of decorations around camp in the month of December. However, this year Chiron decided that instead of decorating camp with the year rounders he would make it-

“A camp wide competition!” Chiron announced at the dining hall, “Every cabin gets to decorate their own cabin and an assigned plot in camp! Do take in mind campers that you also have to clean up the decorations after New Year’s Eve. There is an assortment of decorations already distributed…”

As Chiron kept on explaining the rules you looked around at the different tables. Right now you were sitting with some of the visitors of Camp Jupiter, and as you already saw multiple mischievous looks at varying tables around the dining hall you sighed.

“Not happy with the competition?” Frank asked from his spot across from you. “I don’t know if Chiron didn’t realize this but,” you gave Frank a grave look, “I fear this competition is going to get heated.”

───────────

You were right. The first three hours after the start of the competition were seemingly alright, most cabins were very busy with their own cabin. After breakfast, you had quickly taken your visiting friends away from the cabins, wanting to keep the decorations as a surprise for later. Percy had joined you as he opted to simply put a singular Christmas ornament on his door and call it a day, giving his share of Big House decorations to his girlfriend’s cabin.

“I don’t feel like cleaning up any decorations and besides,” Percy smiled as he walked next to you, “I think it’s more fun to see this unfold.”

So, after you spend some wonderful calm moments just hanging around with your friends, you decided to walk slowly back to the cabins. You could already see the mess from far away, a lot of the smaller cabins seemingly teamed up to create the effects they wanted. The Iris, Hypnos and Nemesis had created a gigantic rainbow spanning over the three cabins; however, the colours were ever shifting.

“Is that made out of normal lights?” Frank asked, amazed at the sight and you shook your head. “It’s probably an enchantment.” You pointed at the cabins on the other side, Nike, Tyche, Hebe and Hecate. Besides the garlands that were thrown everywhere, and the semi broken baubles on the floor there was not a lot going on. Laurel and Holly Victor (children of Nike) were yelling at Lou and Alabaster (Children of Hecate). Clovis, child of Hypnos, was asleep a few metres away from them. He was covered in fake snow but snoring soundly.

“My guess is that they tried to also form an alliance,” you stated, and Hazel nodded slowly, “By the way, has anyone seen Jason? I thought he would hang out with us.” In response to your question, Percy pointed upwards, above the Hephaestus cabin. Something that probably was Jason but rather looked like a floating ball of string lights was hovering a few metres above the roof of the cabin. “He is right there,” Percy said, concern in his voice, “I hope that will go alright.”

Your little group finally stepped into the open area between the cabins. Stepped into is sort of a hyperbole, for you couldn’t make it more than three steps in before it was physically impossible for you to go further. There were boxes everywhere, baubles and garlands scattered wherever you could look. There was a gigantic snowman (actually, there were like five, but you did not want to dwell on it).

You heard a loud BANG, however as you all were distracted by all the string lights on the floor, not yet on any cabins, you could not see where it came from.

“THE FIRE WORKS SHERMAN!” yelled Clarisse. You worriedly looked at the Ares cabin, seeing that yes, they indeed had flame throwers for the holiday season. Not only that, but somehow, they had gotten light up barbwire to add to their normal, just spiky barbwire collection.

“It is worse than I thought it would be.” Percy sighed as he looked around. “Now, now, Percy. Sometimes a little chaos will lead to the best decorated houses!”

Percy jumped up at the voice. From the corner of your eye you already spotted the red Christmas hat, giving away the owner of the voice.

“That’s very true, Klaus.” You grinned at the black-haired boy, “Everyone, this is Klaus. He’s a child of Hermes and arrived not too long ago to camp.” Klaus bowed, as he tipped his Christmas hat, showing off his fluffy black hair and elfish ears. 

“Lovely to meet you, but I have my cabin to decorate!” Klaus smiled as he ran off, somehow not tripping over any of the stuff on the floor.

[starshipsofstarlord]

💕 reader turns into a baby and obsessed with Bucky. Awww 🥺

Infant Issues

bucky barnes x reader / masterlist

warnings; fluff, morgan definitely being tony’s kid, biting, swearing, spoilers for IW and Endgame, mention of the blip, childish behaviour from adults, terrible humour (I really am sorry), spoiler for WV, mention of age gap, kinda a crossover, an absolute mess 😂

“Morgan?” Bucky frowned, as the girl tried to speed past him. It was not wise for anyone to allow the mischievous child run around the compound alone, she always got up to nothing but trouble, and there was such a glazing in her brown eyes.

She didn’t spare him a glance, instead, she bolted, causing the super soldier to sigh. He would have went after her if there weren’t already footsteps recurring from the path that she had just came from; it was his father. It so happened that there was a bundle of joy in his arms, crying like the sudden crack of dawn.

“What were you going to do, wait another five years to tell everyone about this one, Stark?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, though the cries from the infant muted at the sound of his voice. The child wiggled in Tony’s grasp, trying her utmost to reach out for the vibranium armed hero.

“She’s not my daughter, if she was, I think me and you would be having conversations.” Tony’s words spurred a frown to combust out onto Barnes’ face, and the billionaire sighed, shifting the baby so that the baby was in Bucky’s arms.

The child cooed up at him, her eyes were a baby blue, sure to avert possibly into a different colour once she grew elder. “Look, I didn’t ask if I could hold her, she’s cute, but why do you-“

“Morgan did it.” Tony willingly blamed his own daughter. With her various experimentations, she was definitely taking after him. He’d be sure to keep this one quiet from Pepper, otherwise he was almost certain that he’d be banned from bringing Morgan on expeditions to the compound.

“I though y/n was supposed to be watching her.” Stated the enhanced soldier, cocking his head at the information that he recalled. He promptly remembered you abandoning him half way through training the newbie recruits, because Happy was dropping Morgan off, and you had offered watch over her, despite the associate being there.

“She was, and now you’re going to have to watch over her.” Tony pointed specifically to the child in his arms, and that was when realisation hit Bucky. He gulped, breathing through his nose to calm himself, as all the pieces clicked perfectly together.

This was not just a child - it was you. As he gazed down at you, he could finally see the pouted expression that would fixate upon your face when you paid attention to him when you were drunk, there was a glazing over your eyes as you raised your small and innocent hands, scraping down the stubble of his chin, as you curled further into his arms.

“I am going to kill you.” He steadily spoke, huffing as Sam went to walk past, but stopped himself when he saw the bundle of joy that was content in the brooding soldier’s arms. 

“What the hell! Did you and y/n have a baby or something without telling anyone?” Oh, how he wished those were the circumstances, and if the pair of you were to ever have a child together, then he would be impartial to the idea of doing so.

"This is not my child, it's y/n, thanks to Stark over there." He bounced you in his arms, he even felt a small dribble of spit seep through his shirt, but he didn't mind, not as his icy glare was intently prized upon the philanthropist.

"Hey, it was my daughter's fault, not mine!" Tony excused himself from the blame, holding his palm against his chest, as he received as such. Sam ogled at him for a second, before returning his attention back into Bucky, and little you.

He came forwards, reaching his hand towards you, keening as you went to grasp his. As you did so, a smile broke out upon the man’s face, until it contorted into a sharp frown, the noise of a yelp escaping from his lips. “That little bitch bit me.”

“Language.” Steve rounded the corner, his golden brows raising when he saw the infant contently resting in his best friend’s arms. “Did you and y/n have a baby without telling us?”

“That’s what I said!” Sam beckoned to the blonde, as he averted a strong gaze to you and your normal sized partner. "Until she bit me, it reminds me of that time that I tried to steal her fries."

"I don't see why your complaining." Bucky rolled his eyes, bracing you up straighter so that your forehead was pressed lightly against his shoulder. "I'm the one whose partner is an actual child."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam rolled his eyes in reference to how you were beforehand, before Steve cut in, directing his leading tone towards the men that were stood idly by.

"What actually happened?" Tony found his enquiry to be an opportunity to avert the fault from himself; how lucky indeed was it that Steve asked such a thing.

"Technically it's your fault capsicle. Morgan found your prototype of your unsuccessful time machine. As you can see, she turned into a baby, much like Lang. And if you want to push the blame off of yourself, blame these two for their asses disappearing."

"Hey, if I wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. I'd have just left for my sister's." Crossing his arms, Sam shook his head at the man that was not wearing his iron suit. He was unable to take any responsibility, unless it was for his genius brain wave of creating the true transportation for the time heist.

"Well I'm going to keep that noted for any future repercussions." Oh, how Wilson regretting mentioning that now.

"You left it out, within your daughter's reach." Bucky quirked his brow, as he prepared to head towards the storage of the private laboratory that was shared between the two science bros.

"Technically, that was the big green guy." Bucky vouched not to listen to Stark, instead, he continued to walk, leaving the three other men in his rear view, though for the most part, he could still hear them bickering.

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change."

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change." Tony mimicked Steve, thus only proving his point. He was certainly a man that enjoyed pressing people's buttons, it was a shining attribute of the once playboy, and god, did it annoy the hell out of Barnes.

As he entered the laboratory, he found the lab to be in a state of havoc. "Hey, it wasn't me this time." Scott laughed, as he used an extinguisher against the frayed machine, that was blubbering sparks from its ruined exterior.

"Smash!" A small green child, wearing glasses that were far too big for him, ran across the room, followed shortly by a child with long blonde hair wrapped up in a red cape, as though it were some kind of makeshift diaper.

"Explain." Bucky bluntly stated, clenching his jaw, as he cooed lightly at your cries that pierced the air. He bounced you in his arms, not quite certain of what he was supposed to do.

In his time, there wasn't exactly an education system to teach the men going to war how to parent, or even care for a child. A part of him panicked; it was you, he hated seeing you cry in general, but now he couldn't attempt to find out the cause for your falling tears.

"Aw is that y/n?" The man half dressed in his ant man suit asked, a bright smile on his face, as he reached out to hold you. To say Bucky was hesitant to pass you to him was an understatement. "I have a daughter, I've looked after a baby before."

"From jail?" The white wolf asked, as he heard a crash exhibit from the connecting room, obviously being the fault of the two most destructive avengers, or at least, their little versions. Being aged down was definitely certification for trouble, everyone knew that.

"Okay I wasn't in there for that long." Scott reassured him, he picked up a bottle of milk from the table, handing it to the metal armed man, whom had never fed a child before. He found himself, cautiously, keeping a watchful eye, passing you over to the former criminal, intently watching every movement that the man made.

Lange simply fed you. "Always thought you and y/n would have a cute baby, imagine its- oh yeah, well after all that stuff that happened with vision and SWORD, we thought it best to destroy any technology that was recovered from the old base. This part survived, and well, I went into its- okay, you don't want to hear the science, but basically Thor insisted he could break it with his hammer, albeit whilst I was inside of it, and it sent energy around the room that turned them into pubescent children."

"I can see that it did nothing to you. And I thought Morgan did it.”

"I was so relieved, lucky I- wait, was that an insult?" Bucky remained primitively silent, and that answered Scott's question. The hero sighed, as you finished nursing, and your arms reached for Bucky, to whom he passed you to. “And I lied...”

He literally blamed a five year old for the screw up of grown men. Tony was going to thrive off this information, whence he knew that his daughter was in fact not the culprit.

"What do we do now?" He was eager to find a cure for this betrothed science. Those whom were responsible for your decrease in age, well, one was running around the compound, and the other, well, he was even younger than Morgan currently.

"You could wait twenty years, I mean you two already have quite a big age gap, and please don't kill me. I'm not sure that Cap would approve, I am a vital source to the team!"

"I'm not going to kill you tic tac. Or at least not at least until we fix these three."

"Phew." Scott wiped his brow, blowing air from his mouth. "Wait thre- oh yeah, the little guy carrying the hammer that is bigger than himself, and the

"Okay, we need someone smarter." Bucky sighed heavily, as he hugged you in thought. "You tried hitting it again with the hammer?"

"Oh my god, I could be worthy!" Gasped Scott, running off to the next room, only to come back limping, a pained expression on his face. "Little Asguardian bastard hit me!"

Bucky contained his smirk, and instead passed you to Lang, venturing into the other part of the lab, finding that Bruce was asleep, a blob of snot hanging from his nose, he could see the hammer in the middle of the room, almost as though it were waiting for him to attempt grabbing the handle, and Thor was-

The minuscule god jumped from one of the shelves, wrapping his arms around the front of Bucky’s neck, as he put all his weight on the super soldier’s back. In all practicality, Thor was strangling him, and Bucky tapped his arm, trying to convince him to let go.

“I know who Noobmaster69 is.” Thor quirked his head, lessening his hold, as he promptly awaited his now older friend to continue. “It’s, its- his name is Wade Wilson.”

“Wilson!” No, gosh no. Bucky stood completely, making sure to keep Thor in the vicinity, he needed him to be so so that he could reverse the affects on the son of Odin.

“Not Sam. Wade.” He had never met the man before, but god did he seem like a dick. When the pair of you were getting a taxi, the driver Dopinder just could not shut up about his friend, who liked to wear red, and had a kink for unicorns.

Wade certainly sounded like a weird one, but right now, his pass time was getting Thor to pick up that hammer. “Where can I find this Wade?” It practically left his mouth as a hiss, if the imagery and proven death supposed otherwise, he’d possibly think it was Loki instead.

“I will tell you, if you pick up that hammer, and hit it against that old machine. Got it buddy?”

“It’s name is Stormbreaker!” Bellowed the norseman, who tried to slide off his back, but Bucky kept a hold of his legs, refraining him from going anywhere. “Get peter to do it, I don’t want to play that game anymore!”

“Uuh, hi Mr Barnes...” That voice, oh he knew it, and the majority of the time it irritated him, he was Tony's little pet. “And, baby avengers?”

“Don’t ask kid.” Peter nodded, as he went to reach for a spanner. “Can you pick the hammer up, are you worthy?”

“Am I worthy?” He wondered aloud, his eyes fixated on the hammer, as he stepped towards it, holding his hand out, and clasping his palm around the handle, it feeling weightless in his grip, as he picked it up without effort. “Oh my god (it’s Robert Downey Junior)!”

“Great, now take it out there, I’ll deal with these two. And don’t do anything yet.” He was certainly feeling like a sergeant, throwing all the orders to the others, Peter complied, carrying the hammer as though it were an empty duffel.

“Can I try?” Instantly, after Peter passing it to him, Scott had such hope, until the force of gravity hit, and it fell on his foot, causing a light scream to ripple through his throat. “Get it off, get it off!”

Peter did so, as Bucky kept Thor on his shoulders, and grabbed a hold of Bruce’s chubby little ankle, dragging him into the other room. “Shit he’s heavy.” He saw that you were sat in the grand spinny chair, making Bucky relived that you weren’t in Lang’s arms as he attempted to have a moment of worthiness.

“What’d you do, go all Winter soldier on his ass and knock him out?!” Half screamed the prodigy of Hank Pym.

“Of course not, I think Thor did it.”

“Oh yeah, blame the kid because I did the same.”

“Put your suit from Stark on kid, unless you want to become a fetus.” Bucky ignored Scott for the moment,

“I got Hope to send her outfit, it will stretch to accommodate you, but I also think it would hug your shape nicely.”

“That was fast.” Muttered Peter, and Bucky shook his head, eyeing the outfit with weird eyes.

“I’m crazy, but not crazy enough to wear that.” Sighing, he grasped it in his hands, walking to the other room to squeeze into it. He noticed you watching, and thus he turned the chair around so that you couldn’t see anything. Little did he realise until he came out, that you had spun it around again, and was giggling. “Don’t laugh at me, or you won’t be allowed to see it when you’re returned to normal.”

A pout settled on your small lips, and it appeared as though you were getting ready to cry again, but before you could do so, a distraction intervened. An uninvited, and confusing one.

“Stop. Can I just say, that is some cruel declaration for the both of you, you’re my fave ship, after me and Hugh Jackman of course, but he doesn’t even know that this version of me exists.” A newfound imposter called out, his arms raised in the air. Leather gloves crinkled as he twitched his fingers, his white eyes freaking Scott the fuck out. “May I join you on this journey? I read about you guys in comics. And can I just say, I want to see these hunks and that hottie all grown up.”

“You want to see me go Winter Soldier on someone Lang?” Bucky gritted his teeth, prepared to murder this man for ever posing such words about you into the open air. Him speaking obviously drew some attention to him though, but it was not his rage that was mentioned, instead, it was his attire- or well, Hope’s.

“Nice suit Buck Buck. Can you do a twirl for me, I wanna see if it competes with America’s ass. Damn, does that man have some buns on him.”

“I know right!” Scott eagerly agreed, earning a smack in the nuts, to which had made him close to crumbling.“You had to use the metal hand, didn’t you.” Whimpered the Ant to the false Wasp, clamping his hands over his goods as he half hunched over. “I thought you often forgot to use it coz your right handed.”

“You’re on my left.” Gross, he sounded like Sam.

“Who the hell are you?” Thor spoke, and it felt familiar on his tongue. It was as though he had asked an enemy the same thing before...

“I, am Noobmaster69.”

“Hi, I’m Peter. Oh, we’re using our made up names, I thought Sam said it was that guy from that tech place.” Peter scratched his head through the mask, providing a small verbal distraction, as Thor willingly set himself free, launching at the intruder, whilst snatching the hammer from a suited up Peter.

“Aaasrrrghh.” He screamed like a true deity of the vikings.

“Thor, no!” Lang screamed, knowing that he’d have to come up with another excuse. The cameras had been fused whence Thor had first struck the hammer in the room, and it abused the guy in the red suit as he went for his legs, attacking the friend of Dopinder.

[magniloquent-raven]

(pt1 here)

billy grew up afraid of finding his soulmate.

when he was eight his father caught him trying to wash nail polish off with soap and a hand towel.

he’d heard girls at school saying it was what you did when your soulmate was a boy. you were supposed to paint yourself up all pretty and find the person who matched. and it was easy enough to sneak into the vanity and steal a bottle of his mother’s nail polish. but once the paint dried he realized it would be impossible to hide from his father, and he panicked.

his mother showed him the bottle of nail polish remover after neil left. dabbed some on a cotton ball to rub at the thick layer of paint. she was silent, kneeling on the floor in front of him cradling his sprained wrist while he sat on the edge of the tub and cried.

they both had questions, but neither of them got answers.

it took billy months to work up the courage to try again.

he wasn’t sure why he was bothering, at first. he knew he couldn’t look for his soulmate the traditional way. and he was constantly terrified that his father would find the supplies he’d started hoarding. it seemed like more risk than reward, and yet. he couldn’t stop himself.

every time he was allowed to wander off in a store alone he’d slip something into his pocket. a tube of lip gloss. a compact full of shiny powders. he wasn’t even sure what some of it was, he just liked the colours. liked the pictures they hung alongside the displays. he wanted to look like that. beautiful.

and in his heart of hearts, he wanted the boy who was out there waiting for him to know he existed. whether they’d be able to find each other or not.

he’s more careful with this than he was with the nail polish. his father works saturday nights, and his mother always visits their neighbour while he’s at work. despite having the house to himself he locks his bedroom door.

the first thing he tries is the watermelon lip gloss. it’s sticky, and the wand doesn’t fit in his hand comfortably, but once he’s smeared it on he feels...good. he likes the way it catches the light. likes the way it smells. he looks at himself in the mirror and likes seeing something different.

the high doesn’t last long, it inevitably gives way to paranoia, anxiety that has him glancing at the locked door every thirty seconds, heart pounding, wondering if just maybe his father will get home from work early, and he jumps at every sound, hearing boots thudding on the porch and car doors slamming and anything that could be neil coming through the door.

cleaning himself up is hard. panic makes his hands shake, his eyes well up. he drops everything on the floor when he tries to tuck the bag away. and he has to spend twenty minutes with his back to his bedroom door getting his breathing under control when he’s finished.

but he does it again the following saturday. and the one after that.

for five months he does this. locks himself away with his stolen treasures and lets himself live a little. it gets easier as time goes on. and his mind wanders sometimes. to a future where he gets to share this with someone. the boy out there who’s supposed to love him one day.

it’s a small bubble of a dream. one he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on. not when there’s neil’s voice in his head, telling him that no one could love a fucking freak, ‘cause fags don’t get real soulmates anyways.

he wants and he wishes, but the more he thinks about it the more he doubts. he’s never gotten a mark from his soulmate, and even if he did some day, what if his father’s right, and his “soulmate” doesn’t want him or makes him miserable or...worse.

so he does his makeup for himself.

until, like all good things in his life, his father ruins it.

he never found out what set neil off initially, something going wrong at work maybe, or the martial strife of the week getting to him. whatever it was that started it, neil eventually decided billy should bear the brunt of the fallout.

so he went through his things. said billy’d been acting cagey lately, and he was going to find out why.

and then found the makeup bag stuffed into an old sweater in his closet.

it was ugly. the things neil said that day would play on repeat in billy’s head for years afterwards. the scars his belt left on billy’s back were nothing in comparison.

the next saturday came and went. billy spent the evening curled up under a blanket not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping down his face.

by morning he’s resolved to forget the whole thing. to put it behind him. because it was stupid, and risky and childish and maybe his father was right. he’s almost convinced himself. and then he notices ink on his arm, as he reaches up to rub his eyes. messy scrawl, i bet you looked pretty crookedly written up his forearm.

he didn’t think he was able to cry any more, but he manages it.

for the first time his soulmate isn’t just a concept, or a what-if, he’s...a person. he’s a real person out there somewhere. someone who doesn’t even know billy and still wanted to reach out, to offer comfort. it’s more than he’s gotten from anyone else. even his mother. who he knows loves him, and she does her best to protect him, but when she found out about his makeup stash she just looked sad, and she’s said nothing to him about it.

but his soulmate…

can never, ever meet neil.

the thought hits him right in the chest.

whoever he is, he cares, he’s good. and neil breaks good things.

billy falls asleep that night tracing the empty space where his soulmate’s message used to be, wrapped up in worries and dreams, and terrified for someone he’s never met.

the doodles that come and go over the years are terrifying and exhilarating and billy manages to hide every single one from his father. they only ever show up during the day, and they don’t linger. something billy is both grateful for and resentful of.

sometimes he’ll watch other boys’ hands in class. check them for drawings. he thinks he’s being careful, but a girl in his chem class, becca, catches him. she says it’s only because she knew what to look for. they share a cigarette under the bleachers and she tells him about a girl who likes green eyeshadow and writes homework reminders on her wrists using stars instead of bullet points.

it takes billy six months and a couple shots of tequila to tell her about watermelon lip gloss and bet you’re pretty and they both cry when he starts to wonder if his soulmate will be disappointed that he isn’t a girl.

on a rainy april afternoon she asks him to go to a gay bar with her. he tells his father he’s going on a date. she tells her’s that she had to reschedule a tutoring session and it’ll run pretty late.

they wait til it’s dark and get ready in a dingy gas station bathroom. when she’s smearing on her eyeliner she catches sight of his face in the cloudy mirror. he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. he wouldn’t have brought it up. the twinge in his heart and a hollow feeling of longing aren’t anything new, he can deal.

he feels and empty kind of rage every time old, well-meaning relatives give max girly lip gloss kits and eyeshadow pallets and shit normal preteen girls who care about finding their soulmates actually appreciate. she always rolls her eyes and throws them away. susan will fish them out of the trash sometimes, and leave them under the bathroom sink, like if max just sees them there she’ll suddenly give a shit and start using them. like them being there does anything but taunt billy with what he can’t have.

neil watches him like a fucking hawk every time that shit comes into the house. and max doesn’t fucking care. doesn’t notice.

but becca offers.

and.

he’s not about to say no.

he should’ve said no.

it feels good at first, like it used to, it feels like freedom and he likes what he sees when he looks in the mirror, and he kisses a boy for the first time and it isn’t fireworks but it’s something, and he thinks maybe it’s going to be a good night, but then…

neil is waiting on the curb outside becca’s house. they were heading there first, because her parents wouldn’t notice, she said it would be fine, she has makeup remover he can use, he can clean up and head home and everything was supposed to be okay, except. it wasn’t.

it’s the last time he sees becca. neil tells her parents what was actually going on, and she isn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital.

and then six months of rehab, one rushed wedding and a big ugly sold sign later, neil carts them off to hawkins, indi-fucking-ana. as a “family.”

billy was certain this town would be nothing but a prison. it’d be somewhere he’d never find a place to be himself, neil would make sure of that. there wasn’t a single thing to like about this place and its bullshit small town sensibilities. for all the open space it might as well have been stone walls and steel bars.

except.

except...here was a boy with soft eyes and nimble fingers, who gets a little wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates, and is always moving, fidgeting, fiddling with zippers and touching his elbows and looking at him makes billy itch. to touch, to soothe, to take, and…

things get complicated when aimless blue waves scrawl up billy’s arm. when steve follows him out into the parking lot. calls him pretty to his face. and suddenly billy’s eight years old and realizing this shit is real. terrified of what that could mean. spinning fragile dreams like spider’s silk, hard to shake but easy to destroy.

even entertaining the idea of putting on makeup while he’s still in hawkins is stupid and dangerous, but goddamn if he hasn’t risked more for less.

he’s sure he’ll regret it. like he’s regretted every other desperate bid for freedom. but when faced with steve harrington’s smile, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

(edit: pt3 here)