#i guess journaling does help but i forget that always until i do it again

[kethabali]

i literally ran out of tags from ranting on my previous post so let me just continue here lmAOO

[therealpactcommander]

Commander Week Day 7 - Aurene

Written like the Story Journal. At least attempted to

-----

There’s really nothing to journal about. I woke up, learned about my short coma, and now my own daughter Aurene won’t let me leave because I’m “still hurt.”

But, I’ve written about all of my adventures, and I’m bored to all hell. So, I might as well do something to pass the time. It won’t be as interesting as describing my epic battles against dragons, but I’m in so much need of something to do.

-----

My hip is aching again. Aurene told me to sit in the water, and I didn’t want to explain that it didn’t have anything to do with being shot. So, now I’m wet and cold. Yay for me.

Another lasting mark from a near-death experience.

I hadn’t told anyone that my hip had gotten caught when Kralkatorik attacked me. Don’t get me wrong, I would have been all crystal if Aurene hadn’t stepped in, and I’m grateful she did. Yet, the agony of brand lodging in to my skin while breaking about 5 different bones isn’t something I’ll forget any time soon.

It hadn’t spread any further from the wound, so I went off and killed Kralkatorik. It was only when I had a moment to breathe when I hid in Thunderhead Keep and started ripping crystals from my skin. Spirits, it hurt- too much flesh came with it. Yet, I had managed to completely remove the crystals without anyone but Rytlock knowing I had been branded. I swore him to secrecy and he helped me bandage up the wound I had caused.

But… sitting in the pool does feel… better, I guess.

?/?/?

I had another night terror again. Apparently it was a bad one. I certainly remember the nightmare that went with it- that was a bad one, too.

The wound in my chest had flared up again, and… it felt like… him.

That’s why I didn’t dodge the arrow. Rytlock had asked me that at some point. He and I both knew I could have. I didn’t tell him- I just said I had been cold. Judging by the fact I am norn and the low growl he offered me, he probably didn’t believe that.

I could have dodged it. I really could’ve.

But I froze. I froze. Norn don’t freeze when faced with danger.

And yet, when I saw the flaming arrow, my mind went blank. I felt afraid. Fire had never been the same comfort to me after what he did to me. I can’t sleep anymore. I mean, I already wrote about last night- it might have been worse, but the others aren’t all that great either. Aurene says it's okay- that she doesn’t need sleep, and she likes taking care of me. I should be taking care of her, really I appreciate it.

She asks me if I want to talk about it sometimes.

Usually, I answer by asking her back. If my pain that day had bothered her enough to fly halfway across the continent to fight a god as a baby, it couldn’t have been a breeze for her mental health, either. Then, she was kidnapped, force-fed god magic, and immediately started fighting her grandfather.

Of course she knows all of this, but she always answers with something along the lines of “I don’t mind discussing it. That’s why I asked.” Then I’m forced to admit that no, I don’t want to talk about it.

Four years old, and she’s already outsmarting me.

-----

I wandered around the Eye of the North today. Not anywhere outside of Aurene’s chamber, since she’s smart enough to know that I would try to escape back to the fight. But I wandered anyway. She said it was good that I was walking normally, without pain.

I’m always in pain. I know that. She knows that. I think she was just trying to cheer me up.

There wasn’t much ‘bad’ today, actually. I played with Ivory. She showed Aurene some silly little tricks, then demanded I give her treats. I’m glad. Ever since I’ve been hurt, she’s been depressed, but she seems to be cheering up. She’s playing ‘catch’ with my tail right now- in which she bats it until it flicks away, then she pounces on it. At first it was involuntary and very annoying, but eventually I just started flicking it around for her to chase on purpose.

Aurene mentioned my tail.

~~

“You keep Ivory’s fur pristine, but you’ve let your tail get matted. Why?”

Thorne wrinkled his nose. “Don’t have time.”

“But you have time to get little outfits for your companion?”

“They make her happy!”

~~

Little outfits do, in fact, make her happy. She loves little outfits.

Aurene said that I’m going to have to shave the mats out. I will not do that, as I think all of my fur is matted.

-----

Aurene made me shave my tail. Does it feel better? Yeah, but now I’m cold and my tail looks stupid. Too angry to write today.

-----

Now that my tail grew some of its fur back, I feel less angry.

Aurene told me more about what being an Elder Dragon was like. How it felt to feel ley lines so strongly you feel like you can see them, or the feeling of magic flowing through you and purifying it as you absorbed it.

She also asked me to show her the new magic I've been working on. I was happy to oblige, and showed her a few fire tricks. She nods and hums when I explain how it works, despite knowing exactly how elemental magic was done.

I love her. I hope she never forgets that.

I never will. She saved me. More than once, but especially after Joko captured me. Whatever state of mind break I had been in, it was her voice that allowed me some sense long enough to distract him before she tore apart the undead lich king like jerky.

I don't know if she knows what really happened when I was in captivity- the enchantment Joko put on my choker muffled our bond after all, which is why it took so long for her to find me. With his death, the enchantment was gone, and I felt her concern for me then. I almost started crying right then, but I just allowed her to carry me on her back, back to safety.

Back to my our family.

[jurisffiction]

what do you use for journaling?

answering this from my phone which means it's probably gonna fuck up especially as i am now realising how much i want to say. as always

what i USE rn is an app called iA Writer, but technically i don't really use it/its features for journaling so much as just a .txt file organiser. the actual files are synced in a google drive folder, so i could also just open them in any notes app and start writing, but ia writer lets me see all my files at a glance (i make a new .txt file for each month, start each new entry with a big "NEW ENTRY MONDAY 9 JANUARY") and looks nice enough and recognises markdown syntax for basic formatting. i think it's a paid app but i really don't remember.

i used to use Day One (of deeply weird recent tumblr ad fame) when i was 17 or so, which helped me get started because it 1) had daily prompts and 2) had a header image input which made me feel better about just taking one photo each day and counting that as an "entry" without sitting down to write. that was also the big shift i needed to actually become a regular journaler (journalist? diarist.): i was always given cute notebooks as a kid, and even now you can open up tens of them that just have "IM SO TIIIIIIIRED" over the first page followed by reams of blanks. meanwhile i learnt to type 100wpm on msn messenger when i was 11 or whatever, but it somehow didn't click until glossy apps started dropping that i could just type journal entries and even though it wasn't the pen to paper aesthetic fantasy people usually think of, it does what i need it to (and better than paper). all journaling really is (for my purposes! there's a lot of reasons to journal, i guess) is a form of externalising thought processes and emotion to cut down on rumination, pause before impulsive actions, improve my memory and get to know myself better, so the closer i can make that activity frictionless the better — and i already spend all dang day typing anyway, so it's easy.

on that note, i also have a solo discord server i use to keep links and notes to myself, and i've got a channel in there for journaling, because ia writer on my phone WORKS but sometimes the sync overlaps and glitches, and it's just faster to dump quick thoughts into discord, especially if i'm literally just panicking at a party and want to write down something someone said to me so i can remember later.

there is an opposite mode of thinking, which is that journaling/externalising should be very distinct, and separate, and analogue, and physical, etc, to the extent that the frictive challenges of handwriting and paper and sitting at a desk rather than texting at a party etc is the point and helps with recall and the whole process of it all, but, god. i just can't do that at all. i go walking in nature each morning to ground myself in all that and i tumble out every thought and stressor and hypothetical i can wring dry from my mind into a .txt file for 5 minutes (that can turn into an hour) before i sleep each night so that i CAN sleep. but if i forget or im too busy i don't beat myself up about missing it. i stopped journaling for like 3 years then just started up again one day. i skip months sometimes. sometimes my entries are still just "TIRED". but it being a folder of text files helps me know i can start again whenever, and that if i ever want to go check something i can do it easily.

sorry this is insanely long; i've not journaled properly for weeks and it shows 😭

[lady-z-writes]

When you get a chance and if it’s something your down for (NO RUSH) could I possibly bother you for yet another fantastic piece with Heis and a fem reader? I can’t get the idea out of my brain of a hot evening (cause that factory must be sweltering) between the two, that kinda passionate, desire on high, needy and just downright sweaty kind of smut. All the bonus points if the aftermath is fluffy. Thank you!

Sure thing! Thank you for this. Smut below the cut:

Heisenberg is dripping with sweat when he comes back up to the living quarters. You've been wrapped in a towel for twenty minutes, waiting for him to join you for a shower and once you see him you know it's in his best interest.

Tonight is particularly hot - overwhelmingly so. And it doesn't help that you spent half the day watching Heisenberg work and sweat. He'd been shirtless as much as he could today and there were plenty of times you distracted him by stripping down to your skirt and a bra.

To say you two have been pawing at each other all day would be an understatement.

Only it was too hot to actually fuck in the factory, which was a damn shame.

Hence why you were eagerly awaiting his arrival back to the living quarters.

The shower running cold just how he likes it after a day like today, you watch him undress then stride right by you and into the shower, his finger grazing your thigh as he passes.

The grime washing off him is instant once the water hits him. He turns to watch you slip the towel from your body, step in with him. You want him to wash off before anything gets really heated, but he's kissing you and pressing you to the wall...how can you say no to him?

The icy water feels refreshing, wakes you up. It's a shock against the heat of his body.

Heisenberg enters you without much prep - there was no need. Today had been all the teasing you could want and somehow this shower sex isn't enough. The cold water is surely a distraction.

"Mmmm wanna cum?" he asks against your shoulder.

"You know that answer."

"Here?" he grunts as he thrusts into you. You shake your head. "Mmm fine then. Clean up," he pulls away, starts washing up; leaves you wanting and empty.

Your wet hair keeps you cool for a while after your shower is done and Heisenberg surely loves your wet shirt with your nipples poking through.

The couch is so sweaty to sit on and feign interest in a book. Heisenberg wants to write down today's notes and, honestly, you're so desperate for him. Normally, you'd be closing the distance between you two - physical touch - but tonight is just so Goddamn hot you can't bring yourself to do it.

So you're fingering yourself on the couch, touching yourself to the look of him so damn focused over that stupid journal.

The moan you accidentally let out alerts him and his eyes quickly trail toward you.

"Ohhh, you fucking tease," he drones. "Such a sight."

And he watches you, sets his gaze on your parted legs, the practiced movements of your fingers. You watch him fidget in the seat, pants tented, jaw clenching and unclenching as he debates if he wants to finish his notetaking.

A surge of pleasure shoots through you as you rub your clit. It's his breaking point. Heisenberg is shoving you down on the sweaty couch, hovering over you, removing your fingers so he can replace them with his mouth.

He gets you to cum two times before he's even unzipping his pants.

You're a sweaty, panting mess beneath him when he finally slides himself inside of you.

You swollen walls greedily take him in and you hear the shaking breath he releases on the first thrust. Heisenberg is all hands, despite the heat. Sloppy kissing, bumping noses, clashing teeth - it's needy and good. You can tell he needs to hold himself back because his pace changes before he switches up positions as way of distraction from blowing his load.

"Need you to cum on my cock," he huffs out, letting you top because he knows you love the added pressure, the control. "Now, doll."

He counts you down because you love the urgency, love knowing that he may punish you if you don't cum when he gets to 'one'. You love your little games.

By the time you're gasping his name, he's gripping your hips and rutting up into you at such a pace you can't catch your breath. He fills you and it's been so long coming, you sigh with relief.

You feel like you're on fire when you finally lay your body against his. The gasps that fill the room almost overpower the knowledge of the heat.

"Another shower is in order," you finally moan out, peeling yourself off him, your skin stuck together.

"I've been distracted from my notetaking."

"Wonder who would do such a thing."

"And you better not pull any of that self-pleasure again. I want to be in control of your pleasure tonight."

"So I'm guessing I'm not allowed to take a solo shower."

"You'd be guessing correct."

You groan, but only because it humors him.

You're both all hands again while he finishes up his notes. It's scorching inside but you still sit on his lap to be close to him, to run your nails along his skin, grind your body against him, let him trail kisses along the soft spot on your neck.

He's peeling your panties off you once his notes are finished and you're so eager to feel him again, you both forget about your shower just long enough to let him fuck you over the desk.

Your hands grip at his fingers planted beside your head on the desk. The next orgasm leaves you gasping and choking on stale air, clawing at his forearms, rutting back against him in a desperate plea to be fucked harder.

Of course, he obliges. Heisenberg aims to please.

You beg to face him after a while, cry out that you want to kiss him, touch him. He finally agrees to plop your ass on the desk, fuck you atop the metal thing (which is hot against your ass, but makes for some added pleasure you didn't know you'd like.)

You're all open-mouthed kisses, deep moans, wandering hands. It's passionate and desperate; needy in the best way. He makes you feel wanted. Your desire for him is always surprising to him, but he's learning.

As you come down from another orgasm, Heisenberg watches a bead of sweat trail between your breasts, down to your navel. He's, once again, distracting himself so he can last a little longer, maybe get one more orgasm out of you.

But this heat is making you both sleepy and he hums when you rest your head against his chest.

"Mmm I'm gonna fill you," he pants, "and then get you under some cool water, scrub you down...eat you out one last time before bed." He hears you moan. "Would you like that?"

You nod against his chest, moan out as he picks up the pace. Your hands wander all over his body and he feels so wanted, so attractive it makes him tingle.

"Mmm, need you, Heisenberg," you gasp out and that does it - it's enough to make him cum.

After the comedown, he carries you to the shower, sets you down, starts the faucet.

Bathing you is tender and takes his mind away from the humidity in the factory. You're beautiful, he thinks. Too beautiful to be with him, for sure.

Leaning against his chest, you're an exhausted mess. The soap is gentle against your skin as he cleans you up. He thinks you're asleep when he's done. It takes everything in you to stay awake so you decide to return the favor and clean him off.

"Okay, love," he hums against your ear. "That's enough. Time to rinse off. Then bed, you got me?"

He's getting on his knees in front of you as the water rinses him off. You nod, gripping at his shoulder as he easily hoists you against the wall, tucks your legs over his shoulders as he once again settles between your thighs.

That talented tongue of his works you into oblivion as he makes good with his promise. You're pretty sure you're in heaven by the time he's done with you. Shaky knees unable to support you, he steadies you enough to dry off and then carries you to the bed.

You know the drill: he'll go read until he's tired and you'll fall asleep alone. But not tonight. Tonight you're begging him to stay.

Tonight, he obliges.

"G'night, Heisy."

"G'night, kitten."

[arthurflecksgirl]

Hey, how is your day going so far? I hope it's splendid! Can I request an Arthur x reader where the reader is recovering from self harm and he is proud of them? You can choose it to be sfw or nsfw. Thanks in advance! :)

Hey Anon, Thank you for your ask. I 'm okay and I hope you are doing well,too?! I am soooo sorry this took me so long but I finally sat down today and wrote your request. I was thinking about that request since you first send it to me. It was a beautiful one but also a tough one. Itˋs a sensitive subject and I was struggeling with how I wanted to write it. I was afraid to write it in a way you wouldnt approve so I am a bit nervous posting this and I hope with all my heart that you will like the result. This request was close to my heart but a bit of a struggle until I finally sat down. I am sending love to anyone. Especially everyone who had to go through this or still does go through it.

Words: 1900

Trigger warning: Mentions of self harm

Arthur nervously chewed on his pencil ,while the blank page of his journal was staring at him like it expected something good to happen. More than one good thing happened in his life recently and he absolutely hated how difficult it was for him to put his emotions into words. Words worthy of how he truly felt about not being alone anymore. He felt like the emotion of it was a seed he didnt knew how to water properly ,to make it the flower that was a written page in his diary. One he would like to show to you , randomly in the middle of the night. To proof how he felt inside. Blooming.

He always felt like he wasnˋt good with words but so much better with showing his feelings off in a different way. A movement of his body when you were slow dancing across the bedroom, a piece of music hummed into your ear while he was pulling you closer, the touch of his thumb brushing your cheek before he leaned in to kiss you. Body language was his way to express what was growing deep inside of him. A love so immessurable, he was becoming a new man. And you were his garden he wanted to spent the rest of his life in. He wanted to build a cabin right in the middle of the gardens heart and plant roses and violets. Once he figured out how to water them and which flowers demend more sunlight or which ones prefered the shadows. He wanted to learn every aspect of your soul. Flower by flower. Petal by petal. To let his roots grow towards yours. Arthur touched the artificial flowers on his desk. They reminded him of who he used to be. Unreal and far from what he desired to be. No sunlight could have touched him  enough to let him grow.

Until there was you. His garden. He finally became what he was supposed to be. A sunflower. The flower of joy and happiness. But also the flower of the man who once drank yellow painting to commit suicide by putting happiness inside himself. At least that was the rumor Arthur heard on tv when he watched a documentary about Vincent Van Gogh. And he was quiet fascinated by it. Somehow the though was relateable to him. In a very abstact, sad, beautiful way.

„Last week“ he wrote , trying to draw a sunflower but it just didnt turned out the way he intented to. „She  finally felt comfortable enough to wear a short sleeve in front of me. I guess that means she really does feel save around me. Ah, it means the world!“  Arthur smiled to himself when he drew a tiney heart and filled it in. His heart was so full of you. Just thinking about the way you took off your comfort sweater for the first time to show him the scars of the past ,created a feeling in his heart he couldnˋt name. 

It has been a while since you let him know about your struggles with self harm. And Arthur could tell that it wasnˋt an easy thing to do. He would always remember the moment he first saw your naked arms. The pattern of hurt on your fragile skin. This moment of vulnerability and strengh. He wanted to kiss it. Arthur wanted to kiss along every single scar to show you how beautiful you were to him and how much he belived in the power of a gentle lip kissing where it hurts the most. But he didnˋt. Arthur wasnˋt sure if it was the right moment yet. He didnt wanted to do anything wrong. So he just sat there, thinking about placing kisses all over, while he picked his own eyebrow with his fingers.

„One day“ he wrote underneath the heart „I will kiss  her scars and she will feel what I felt when she was taking care of me“. Arthur put the pencil down and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Smoke filled his lungs but he wished it was your breath instead.

A familiar noise interrupted his daydream as he put the remains of the cig in his pink ashtray. „Hey darling, Iˋm home“. Your voice made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The way you called him darling was music in his ears. His favourite song he repeated in his head when he was at work or taking the bus. He sometimes hummed the words „Hey darling“ , as if it was a prayer. „Hey darling Iˋm home“. Home. That was never the word he would have used to  discribe the place he was living in. Never what he thought of when he felt the worn fabric of his couch underneath his naked skin or was lying in the bathtube, checking for how long he could handle to keep his head under water. This place with all itˋs heavyness wasnˋt home. But it transformed into a home eveytime you opened the door to wrap your arms around him. A genlte kiss upon his forehead. His noticlable frown  underneath your lips. Hey darling, Iˋm home. You are home, finally. We are. A home.

Arthur shifted his position ,so your lips immediately found their way to his forehead. „Forehead kisses“ he thought „Are her way to tell me how much she cares“. He closed his eyes for a moment. His dark lashes covering his piercing eyes like a curtain, to feel the moment with all itˋs gentleness. When Arthur opened his eyelids again he noticed something wrapped around your wrist. His heart stopped for a moment. The thought of you harming yorself again hit him so hard he forgot how to breathe. „Y/N…are you….okay? Oh my god…“ Arthurs index finger reached out for your wrist. He barely dared touching it. His tear filled eyes blurring his sight.

„Yeah, I am. How was your day, Arthur?“ you replied as you sat down on his lap to kiss the corner of his mouth. You noticed his lips trembling underneath your own. A tiney earthquake emerging from within. His day was okay while he was sittin on his desk thinking of all the beautiful things he could write to you. Until you came home with a hurt wrist. Now nothing remained okay. Seeing you hurt was worse than his own pain. Your wound was his wound. Arthur held your face between his hands, unable to responde with a kiss.

„Are you…. Are you hurt?“ he whispered, pointing at your bandage. He wanted to be here for you. Now more than ever. His mind was travelling back to the day you found him with a bleeding forehead after he hit his head against the wall. He recalled your hand resting on the spot that hurt so much and how it lead to the first forehead kiss he received in his life. Thatsˋs when he knew he wasnˋt all alone in this anymore. Thats when he knew that, yes there will be bad days , even together but he didnt had to face them on his own anymore. There was someone looking after him. Someone willing to ease the pain. To heal his wounds. Old or recent. He remembered how gently you held his hurting head, fingers brushing  back his hair to clean the wound. Heˋll never forget the first act of kindness and love from a loved one.

And now it was his turn to tell you itˋs going to be okay. His turn to take care of your wounds.

„No baby, Iˋm not hurt. Iˋve got a little suprise for you…“ Arthurˋs eyes glanced deeply into yours „A…. surprise? What do you mean?“

You lifted your arm smiling at him. Thats when he noticed your wrist wasnˋt bandaged but wrapped in some kinda foil. You slowly started to unwrap it, a big smile lingering on your face. „Darling, I hope you like it“.

Arthur couldnt belive his eyes. Were once was a scar six letters showed. Written on your wrist. Six letters so familar, he started sobbing.

„Oh Arthur….“ You touched his cheek „You like it?“

He covered his mouth with his right hand, mumbling.

„I thought about this  for a while now. Getting your name tattooed to cover my oldest scar“.

A single tear ran down his happy face „Thats…. Just…. Wow. I…. donˋt know what to say. Thatˋs my name. You got a tattoo of my name. „ Arthur couldnt stop staring at the letters. „Can I….touch it?“.

 You smiled „Not yet, itˋs still fresh and I need to put some cream on it.“

„Oh! Yeah…. Of course.“

Arthur tried to understand what was happpening right now. A minute ago he was afraid you hurt yourself again and now  he found himself looking at a tattoo that was his very own name. Part of you.

He felt your other hand touching his blushing cheek „I really wanted this to remind me of how beautiful things can happen after experiencing so much pain. There is this scar and itˋs still there but somehow it belongs to my past and it doesn´t define me. It never did. And now there is you. The light that came after the dark. The one who understands my scars and eases the pain by loving me for who I am. I love you, Arthur, I love you so much itˋs so demanding and beautiful and …..now youˋre always on my mind, in my heart and under my skin.“

Arthur gently lifted your hand, careful enough to not touch the tattoo. „I love you“ he whispered „Can I…. can I kiss your…“ goosebumps covered your skin as his upper lip found itˋs way to travel across your arm. Soft kisses, thoughtful and warm, scar after scar. You couldnt help but cry a little. Arthur froze „My god, Iˋm sorry I only wanted to…“

„Donˋt stop“ you whispered through the tears „Please….“

The light in Arthurs eyes came back when he realized it was happy tears running down your cheeks. Tears of relief and inner peace.

„Remember when you found me after….“

„I do, Arthur.“

„That was the first time I felt truly loved“ he breathed, while he continued kissing your skin.

„You found me at my worst. And loved me. Especially where it hurt the most“

You closed your eyes, concentrating on the softness of his lips. His presence was medicine. Calming and warm like a favourite sweater.

You remembered  very well. It was the day you knew that you would give the world to protect this man. The beautiful soul that Arthur was. You couldnt change his past but write his future. You and him together. Sitting in front of a blank page, where anything was possible.  Every yet unborn poem was demanding to be written. Every small moement of happiness. And when the pages get torn and some parts get blacked out, you would be here to put a sticker on it. Heart shaped. One thatˋs glowing in the dark. So when he openes his journal at night he couldnt see the scribbles and blacked out parts. Only the bandage that was love.

Just like the words written on your wrist.

Arthur.

 

„I wanna do the same for you“ he mumbled between the kisses „Loving you where it hurts the most…so...“ he lifted his face, looking at you „…where does it hurt?“

„Every inch untouched  by your loving hands“.

Only a heartbeat later Arthurs thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip as he whispered „Let me take care of that“.

[mrsbrookegillespie]

+Perfect Harmony+ (Part One) Luke x Reader

Description: For Y/N Molina, it never came easy for her. The hardest part not being able to do the one thing she loved, creating music. With her cousin Julie joining a ghost band that she’s been secretly admiring for years, her all time crush not returning the same feelings, and having many untold secrets, something is bound to go wrong.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, mention of suicidal thoughts, Ray not being that nice (I’m sorry Ray, we love you), mention of slight sexual harassment, mentions of death (duh), terrible writing, typos, and probably more that my brain can’t think of at the moment. 

After Writing All Of That I’m Questioning This Story, But I Do Love It So... Many Songs Will Be Featured, Feel Free To Listen To Them When They Come Up.

+Perfect Harmony+

For Y/N Molina life wasn’t easy. Her parents, one being the sister of Ray Molina, dropped her off in front of the Molina household at the age of fourteen before going off to explore the world. At the time she was upset about the situation, but it wasn’t surprising. Her parents never wanted a kid, she practically raised herself while they were in Greece eating seafood, and sipping at the finest wine, no doubt. “How are you doing?” Rose, her cousin Julie’s mom, asks. 

Y/N shrugs. “They’re never coming back, so I guess I’m going to be stuck on this couch for a while.” She actually grew quite fond of the sofa that pulled out into a bed.

“We’ll make you a room up in the loft,” Rose assures.

“So, we agree, my parents are…” Her voice fades off, inhaling through her nose.

“You know, this used to be the studio of a band.” Y/N tilts her head, looking at the older woman. “A rock band, I met them when they were going to play at The Orpheum--”

“The Orpheum?!” Y/N exclaims. “That’s amazing!” 

“They were, but they died that night.” Rose stands up, walking to a box. “This is some of their stuff.” She picks it up. “I’ve heard the music you listen to, and I think you would like them.” Setting down the box in front of Y/N, she wastes no time searching through it.

“Sunset Curve?” she questions, staring down at the logo printed on the shirt. “Cool name,” she compliments with a wide smile, setting the article of clothing in her lap. She picks up a picture showing four boys. “Were these them?” 

“Yes, that one was Bobby, he’s a flirt, Reggie, sweetie, Alex, very sassy--” Y/N giggles, “And Luke, he was the lead singer.” 

“He’s… Quite decent looking,” Y/N observes sheepishly.

“I knew you’d think so.” Rose ruffles her hair. “Listen to the CD, you never know…” 

“I will.” Y/N clutches the photo to her chest as Rose leaves. Hastily she picks up the CD that had the band's logo plastered on the plastic case. She gently places it in the player, waiting for the music to come through the speakers. And then, there it was. “They’re amazing.” She grabs the box again, pulling out an orange beanie, placing it on her head. 

By the end of the night she had searched the entire studio for more stuff, gathering it, trying things on, she stayed up ‘til sunrise listening, and trying to learn each and every one of their songs, painting each of the members on canvases, writing songs about the guitarist that even though died years ago, she couldn’t help but feel connected to. A crush on a dead guy, what’s better than that?

“Boo!” Luke poofs in next to Y/N who’s currently getting her textbooks out of her locker.

“God!” she shrieks. “You need to stop doing that to me, gonna give me a heart attack,” she mutters as her fellow classmates, and random people she had never met give her weird glances. “Make people think I’m crazy.” Luke opens his mouth to reply, but Y/N beats him to it. “Yes, Luke, I know ‘we’re all a little crazy’.”

He pouts. “Someone’s grumpy today.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the locker next to hers. “But, anyways! Do you know where Julie is?” 

And there Y/N’s heart was punched. “I mean, she has to be around here somewhere,” she answers, slamming the locker door. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have to go to class.” She takes her time to turn around on her heels.

“You’re gonna be at band rehearsal before our performance, right?” he asks, making her stop.

Turning only the upper half of her body to look at him. “I think you forget I live in the studio.”

He lets out an airy chuckle. “Right.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

Unlike Julie she didn’t care if people thought she was crazy, for the number one reason being that people already thought that. Wacky, coocoo, freak, those were just some of the words people called her before her favorite band suddenly popped out of nowhere because Julie played their CD.

That always confused Y/N, why is that when she played the CD all that time ago they didn’t show up, but when Julie did, they did? She never mentioned her already known infatuation with the band, even though it most likely answers the question of why Julie and her can see the ghosts. “But, I’m grounded so…” She carelessly shrugs. “I’m stuck on party duty for the time being, so probably won’t be there for that, but I’ll be there for the actual performance.” Even though she would’ve done it anyway, Ray wanted Y/N to be more ‘supportive’.

“Oh.” His smile falters a little. “Cool, I’ll catch you later then.”

An awkward tension fills the air. “Yep.” She salutes towards him, walking off. 

Grounded. No phone, only can drive her car to school, and home. Y/N wasn’t even allowed to listen to her records which she’s collected over the course of three years. And it was for the reason that she's failing multiple classes, but Ray didn’t understand the struggle she’s going through.

Let’s rewind… When Rose died it left the whole Molina family broken. But, it also left another part of Y/N broken when music became Julie’s thing at that moment, Ray not allowing Y/N to even have a guitar in her room. She loved music, all she wanted to do was sing, play every instrument, write every song with any word that popped into her mind. Julie couldn’t even touch a piano until recently, and yet, it had to only be Julie’s thing. So, now Y/N has to just secretly write songs in her red notebook knowing they’ll never be used, and secretly play in the school’s band room before any student takes a foot into the building, while she watches her cousin and the guys become ‘Julie and the Phantoms’.

What does hurt her everyday, is not being able to do something she loves because they’re afraid of how it might affect someone else. But, if Julie really cared for her family member then she’d be happy for her, right? Not to mention the way Luke looks at Julie hurts a little too, the chemistry. No one can deny it. It’s not like she’s had a crush on him before they even met him as a ghost. No, the biggest crush that she’s ever had is totally not a dead guy, and no, she’s never in the past thought about killing herself in hope to meet him if there were an afterlife, which she guesses there is now. She’s sure he loves Julie not being an absolute mess for him, and he probably knows that Y/N’s in love with him and is trying to show her he doesn’t like her in the worst way possible. “Y/N!” she internally screams, hearing the familiar voice.

“Josh…” she drags out his name. Maybe she should just give him a chance? He gives her plenty of attention. She giggles to herself when the thought crosses her mind. That wasn’t funny. An inner voice replies. 

“Hey, I just… Wanted to see how you were doing, you know--just friend to friend.” 

“I actually have to go to class, so we’ll talk later, ‘kay?” She tries to turn around to leave, but Josh grabs her arm to pull her back.

“Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes,” he counters.

“Y/N!” Luke exclaims, poofing right next to Josh. “I still haven’t found Julie, are you sure you don’t know where she is?” He almost didn’t even notice the other boy that had also been fighting for Y/N’s attention.

“I like to get to class early,” Y/N replies to Josh. “And you haven’t seen Julie around here, have you?”

“I think I saw her in the dance room.” She gives Luke a pointed look. “You know, practicing for that dance thing.”

“Yeah!” Y/N responds, not even an ounce interested in this conversation. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she noticed Luke not leaving.

“Who’s this?” he asks.

“So, Josh, I really have to go,” she claims. “I’ll see ya around!” 

“Wait,” he starts. “Is this about when I tried to kiss you the other day?” Y/N tenses up, 

Luke’s jaw dropping slightly.

Followed by a wide smile. “Does Y/N have a boyfriend?!” he mocks. 

“No, well, yes, it is. We aren’t dating, Josh, it’s uncomfortable.” Josh huffs out. “That’s not a weird reason for why.” Y/N’s blood starts to boil.

“You should feel honored that someone would even want to kiss you, I mean your reputation here isn’t all too great, Y/N,” he states. 

“Goodbye, Josh.” She turns on her heels. 

Luke watches as she angrily walks away, glaring at Josh who obviously couldn’t see him. He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder to see Julie by her locker. Giving Y/N one more glimpse he goes to do what he came here to do. 

Y/N sits at her desk, rereading over the words that she colorfully wrote in her journal. “You pretty thing, with pretty things inside,” she sings quietly. She slams the book closed when she finds herself getting annoyed by just how untalented she was. 

“I think that Nick guy has a crush on Julie,” Luke reports, once again magically appearing in front of her. He was taken aback when she didn’t react.

[devil-in-those-eyes]

Temper- Mat Barzal

Hi, guys! Okay, so it isn’t what I had in mind, but i’m hoping you guys like it and maybe even want a part two? But, anyways!

** Gif creds to @miroheyskanen​ !

~~

           Athletes could get really testy, they all had some sort of angry streak when it came to losing. They had problems with losing because they were all insanely competitive, it was exceptionally hard when it was a significantly bad loss.

You were pretty new to this team, only been assigned to the Islanders for a few months now after being switched from the Rangers, but you were pretty sure you had never seen athletes talk to you the way Mat Barzal just snapped at you.

           The whole thing kind of came out of left field, like a bitch slap and made your head spin. It made you confused for two reasons. The first because all you did was ask if Mat felt like the loss had to do with them going from playing a game a little over twenty four hours ago to playing Tampa, while Tampa had a few days off to recover. You figured Mat would be testy anyways, I mean he slammed his hockey stick into the glass multiple times before breaking it, but the way he snapped at you was over the top.

           Second reason was because you and Mat had become more than the typical athlete journalist relationship, if you’d even call it that. You had gotten to the point of having personal conversations, he stopped you outside of the locker room and walked you to your car. He even asked you to come out for drinks with him and Anthony, but after this, it kind of seemed stupid.

           You knew forming relationships with athletes was like a huge no-no. The sports world for journalism was mainly men and you had proved yourself and worked up the ladder, getting to the Rangers and now the Islanders. You never wanted to be one of those girls ruled by your emotions in all aspects of life, and your job was the one place where you could kick ass and show the men that you could compete with them.

           Except now, you felt like a moron. Wounded by Mat’s words laced with anger, your jaw clenched and eyes narrowed at him. Embarrassment flooded you and you tried to keep your cheeks from filling with a rosy color as you realized everyone else heard the tone because all the reporters fell silent and slowly looked at you.

           Mat called on a different reporter and he stumbled over his words, struggling to sound like he hadn’t heard it while you looked to your left to find the eyes of Anthony, who stood with his captain, Anders Lee, while both of them watched you. Their eyes were wide, eyebrows lifted and the conversation paused.

           Okay, so it wasn’t just in your head.

           You managed to take notes through your annoyance, getting just barely enough to write your column tomorrow, and walked away from Mat without another glance.

           “Someone was angry, wasn’t he?” A man whispered to you as you walked out of the locker room.

           You hummed, not offering anything more. The other journalists walked away while you felt your phone vibrate in your purse. For a few fleeting milliseconds, while you reached in your purse to grab your phone, you wondered if it was Mat texting you but you scoffed at yourself and pulled your phone out.

           It was just your best friend, wondering what time you’d be home and if you wanted to order some late night dinner while you worked on your article and sent it in to work. You texted her, saying you’d be home soon and to order whatever.

           “Y/N, wait up.” Anthony appeared out of the locker room, you turned to see him jogging towards you in just his compression shorts and a clean shirt.

           “Hey,” you breathed through a smile. “Great game, Tito.”

           “He’s just angry,” Anthony blurted out, nodding his head at a teammate that passed you guys.

You wanted to forget it even happened, you just wanted to get back to your job where athletes were just that, not friends. So, your eyebrows pulled together, ready to play coy but Anthony licked his bottom lip.

           “Barzy, he’s just angry. I mean, we all are. We thought we were prepared and we just got our asses handed to us,” Anthony cut you off from saying anything. He grimaced, “don’t take it personally, okay?”

           Anthony was sweet, a total dork and could make you smile without even really trying and you knew he was just trying to keep the waters calm. Your phone buzzed in your hands, reminding you that your best friend was waiting at home for you, so you touched his arm and squeezed it.

           “Great game, Tito. See you next game.” You smiled.

           “We’re gonna go for drinks after the next game,” Anthony said, trying to keep you there. You weren’t sure why because you both knew Mat wouldn’t be talking to you any time soon, not that you really felt like talking to him either. “I know Mat asked you to come, I just wanna make sure you’re gonna come.”

           “I don’t know,” you said, stepping away from him and waving your phone. “I gotta head out.”

           Anthony’s shoulders sagged, “Alright, Bye, Y/N.”

           By the time you got home, you had sit and stewed in your annoyance and felt it grow into more of a type of anger. You never asked Mat, or Anthony, for special treatment. You never talked their performance or games outside of the post game interviews, so why did Mat have to snap at you? It was a simple question, basically asking if them being exhausted from their prior series against the Canucks had anything to do with it. Jesus, it was a yes or no question.

           You got your article done with a glass of wine and take out. It was published the next morning and you went to work forgetting about how Mat looked at you like you were just an annoying journalist who was wasting his time, until your friend sent you a video of said postgame interview.

           Good. GOD. Moody, much?

           You thumbs upped her message and went on with your day.

           When your day ended, you were surprised to see text messages from Anthony and Mat. Anthony asked if you wanted to grab coffee tomorrow morning after his morning skate, while Mat asked if you wanted to come over for a movie night with him and Anthony.

           Huh, must be over his temper tantrum.

           You left him on read and told Anthony you might be able to slip out of work for an hour.

           You figured it was best if you went back to just being the journalist for your company, maybe everyone was right when they told you to not form personal relationships. You squashed those butterflies that you used to get whenever Mat smiled at you, or texted you a funny meme, or a snapchat you got when he went to your favorite café. You didn’t want to think about how you started fantasizing about him as more than an athlete because then that implied you got feelings when you promised yourself it wouldn’t happen.

           By the end of the game the next night, the boys had recovered and seemed to be in better spirits as you stood in the locker room. They had just come off of 2 goal lead and the locker room was bursting with smiles, congratulatory hand shakes and laughs.

           Tonight, you decided to be apart of Anthony’s interview, who continually cracked jokes and seemed be unfocused on the interview. As you asked Anthony a question, you could help the burning in the back of your head, the feeling like someone was watching you, so after you finished recording Anthony’s answer you turned your head to see Mat’s eyes.

           Mat had his own group of reporters asking him questions, but when you finally looked at him, he smiled gently, like he always did when he was trying to be polite inside the locker room and not let on that secretly, you were his favorite.

           Mat would never admit it to you, because it had taken you this long to agree to even meeting him and Anthony for a late night drink, but he always looked forward to post-games just because he got to stare at you. You always looked pretty in your favorite jeans and shirt, hair either pulled back and off your face or falling naturally and tucked back behind your ears. His hand always itched to push the strands off of your neck, always wishing for the day he could stand close to you without you second guessing and stepping away.

           As your lips twitched into a half smile, he realized it wasn’t meeting your eyes like it usually does, but the second you turned back to Anthony, you wore a bright smile. He felt a pang in his chest, something resembling jealousy but he quickly squashed it because he knew his best friend didn’t see you like that, like how Mat saw you.

           Mat managed to get through the interviews without staring at you too hard, and by the time Anthony and Anders let you go, the other reporters and journalists had walked out so Mat easily grabbed your wrists and pulled you to a stop.

           “Hey, you,” Mat breathed, smiling softly.

           “Hey, good game.” You answered.

           Your smile was… too professional. It was small and tight and how you used to smile when you first started here a few months ago. It took Mat weeks to pull a real smile out of you, one where your eyes twinkled and his heart clenched inside his chest. You always told him good game, even if it was a shit game, but tonight was just different somehow.

           “I, uh,” Mat stumbled over his words as you pulled your wrist from his grasp. He felt like he was sixteen again, talking to his crush after school. “Can you come out tonight? Tito said he asked you.”

           “Can’t,” you answered, stepping away. “Have a good night, Mat.”

           Another pang inside his chest as your words went cold, this time it was disappointment and hurt. Confused, Mat just stood there was you walked away from him, not even looking back over your shoulder to give Mat some sort of sign that all he needed to do was push for you to come out.

           He felt like he was back to square one with you.

           “Not so much fun when it’s you, eh?” Matt Martin asked him as he still stood there, watching your figure walk away.

           “What’re you talking about?” Mat asked, turning to face his teammate.

           Matt smirked and shrugged, heading into the showers. Annoyed, Mat went up to Tito. “Why is Y/N so pissed at me?”

           “Dude,” Tito’s eyes glanced to his left, at Anders, before looking back at him. “Where were you two days ago?”

           Clueless, Mat shook his head.

           “Maybe you should watch your interview.” Tito said, sighing and turning to grab his clothes out of his bag.

[elliesguitarstrings]

Silence (Part 2)

Masterlist//Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: Thanks for the love on my last post lol :) Sorry it took so long to post this I’ve just been so busy with school but I just got out for winter break so hopefully I’ll be able to write a lot over the next few weeks! Also sorry this chapter is so short and probably really bad I wrote it super fast because I just wanted to post something. I promise part 3 is going to be a lot better than this haha.

Warnings: language, a little bit of angst, Peter being kind of a jerk (sorry but I promise he doesn’t mean it lol)

~~~~~~~~

Sitting in Peter’s bed, you look beside you to see that he is still asleep. You want to shake him awake and yell at him to get up and celebrate your one year anniversary, well friendiversary, that is. But instead, you choose to admire him in all of his cuteness for a few more moments. You smile looking at the way his cheek presses against the pillow, his fluffy curls strewn across his forehead, his mouth slightly open, snoring quietly. God, you’re so in love with him. But he’s not in love with you, and you know that. You’re just friends, and that’s all you’ll ever be. But you still had that small sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe he likes you as much as you like him.

You couldn’t bare falling for him more, so you rustle him awake.

“Pete! Get up get up get up! Guess what day it is?” you say, repeatedly slapping his arm.

Peter stirs, slowly opening his eyes, smiling at you as you stand over him on the bed.

“Well good morning to you too princess.”

You can’t help but blush, as you do every time he calls you that. Princess is his nickname for you, and even though he says it multiple times a day, you never seem to get over it. It only makes you fall for him harder.

Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you repeat your question, “Guess what day it is?”

Peter’s eyes widen, “Oh no, oh my god. Is it your birthday? Did I forget your birthday? Shit shit shit-”

You cut him off, laughing, “No stupid, you didn’t forget my birthday.”

“Then I give up, what day is it?”

“Come on Pete, you can’t give up that easily! Guess again.”

“Well, it’s not a major holiday, I know that much. And it’s not either one of our birthdays, so I’m lost. Just tell me.”

“It’s our one year friendiversary! It’s officially been one year since we met!”

“Oh, really? It seems like way longer than a year, but that’s cool I guess!”

You couldn’t help feeling a little hurt that he didn’t remember. But at the same time you didn’t really expect him to. It wasn’t like he had been tracking the days in a journal or writing down all the memories from your time together on little pieces of paper to look back on when you were sad like you’ve been doing for the past year. But that didn’t mean he didn’t value the bond between you two, right?

“Well, I have a big day planned for the two of us! We’re going to do all our favorite things today. We’ll have pancakes for breakfast, and then we’ll go walk around New York City and go to Delmar’s for lunch, and after that we’ll come back to the compound and watch all of the Star Wars movies for the rest of the night in the theater! We can even set up a tent and buy a bunch of snacks and candy like we did for our first movie marathon!” you ramble excitedly.

“Oh, um, well I was planning on hanging with Ned and MJ today, but I’ll text them and tell them I’m hanging out with you instead if you want.”

Your stomach dropped. Today meant so much to you, and he was planning on hanging out with his other friends?

You wanted to scream at him, tell him how much of an asshole he was being. But instead, you bottled up your feelings, just as you have been all morning.

Faking a smile, you say “Oh, well they can tag along if they want to. More people, more fun, right?”

“Are you sure? It can just be the two of us if you want, I don’t think they’ll mind much.”

“No, no, its totally fine. Tell them to meet us at Delmar’s at noon.”

“Okay, cool! I’ll text them. Today’s gonna be so much fun!”

You’re on the verge of tears, and you have to get away from Peter before you break, so you quickly stand up and say, “I’m gonna go shower and get ready. You can start on the pancakes if you want, or you can just wait for me and we can make them together.”

Without waiting for Peter to answer, you leave his room, shutting the door behind you probably a little too hard. You run across the hall to your room and fall on your bed, immediately starting to cry.

Maybe you’re overreacting, making a huge deal out of nothing. Is it that big if a deal that he just wants to hang out with people other than you? Were you being possessive? But on the other hand, when you think about it, it’s been more than just today.

For the past two months or so, Peter has been ditching you to hang out with his school friends. It made sense at first, since school just started back and he hadn’t seen them all summer because he was hanging out with you. But recently, it seems he’s been choosing to hang out with them over you.

In fact, the two of you haven’t spent time together outside of the compound in weeks. Sure, you’re still close, but only when you’re in the compound around the other avengers. Every time you ask if he wants to go to the movies or go to Delmar’s, he always has an excuse, usually that he already has plans with Ned or MJ. Or both.

This only makes you cry more. How could he do this to you? Why is he doing this to you?

Then you realize. MJ. He fucking likes MJ. He would rather hang out with her than you. That’s why he always ditches you for her and Ned, why he never hangs out with you anymore.

And now you have to spend an entire day with her. God, you should have just told Peter to tell Ned and MJ that he couldn’t hang out, but you panicked, what else were you supposed to do?

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door. It’s Peter.

“Hey, are you okay? You ran out of my room pretty fast. Are you mad at me for inviting Ned and MJ or something?”

Shit. He knows. How the fuck does he know everything?

“Oh, uh, no, no its fine! Um, I just know that we only have a few hours until we meet them and making pancakes can take a while and I can take a while to get ready and I just wanted to get a head start that’s all.”

You definitely sounded suspicious. You said that way too fast. But somehow Peter seems to buy it.

“Oh, well, okay! Why don’t I get started on making the batter while you finish getting ready and then we can finish making them once you get downstairs.”

“Yeah, um, sounds good. Be down in like thirty minutes.”

“Okay! See you then!”

Fuck, even his voice sounds cute.

Stop, you can’t do this. Not anymore. He likes MJ, not you. You’re just friends.

While you shower and get dressed, you try to come up with a plan on how to keep your cool and attempt to act normal today. Usually, you didn’t have to think about a thing when you hung out with Peter. But now, it’s different. Well, for you it is at least. For Peter, nothing has changed. But for you, it seems like everything has.

In the span of about fifteen minutes, Peter destroyed any chances of you two being together. Not that he said anything, but you just know. You just know he likes MJ.

[stennnn06]

supercorp 83

83- another sleepless night, huh? writing prompts

and here is the post reveal version of this prompt. i guess we could say it’s somewhere toward the finale, where instead of hand shakes and agreeing to take on lex, they actually ya know... make up. bonus (helpful?) andrea rojas because i do what i want.

Kara slams the backspace key of her laptop in frustration. She watches the letters of the few words she's written get swallowed whole, returning her to the beginning. It's almost midnight, and she's no closer to finishing this stupid article for Andrea than when she started. She sighs loudly, staring at the screen. She doesn't want to write about millennial fashion, or any fashion for that matter, but she has no choice. Andrea made it clear that she's on a limited beat, and an even tighter leash, and all of it is just impossible.

"Burning the midnight oil, Ms. Danvers?" Andrea's voice drifts over the quiet din. There's no one else in the office, which means no one to run interference from Andrea's prying eyes. Kara doesn't want to talk to her boss, and she definitely doesn't want to give an update. She wants to stew over her blank document in peace, and let her mind drift over more important things. She doesn't want to face Andrea's smiling scrutiny, or her sarcastic tone, or think about the way she reminds her so much of Lena that she wants to rip her own hair out.

Kara grits her teeth in frustration, nodding silently. "Yep," she mutters, keeping her face trained on her laptop. Andrea appears at her door in seconds.

"Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Kara huffs. It's condescending, and she knows it. Andrea thinks she's lazy, and argumentative, and honestly, maybe she's right. Kara is tired of caring. She isn't here to please Andrea. She thought journalism was about something more -- about relentlessly pursuing a story no matter what, in order to expose the truth. Instead, she's writing about "athleisure" and answering reader questions about high waisted jeans. She ignores Andrea and glances at her phone. She hasn't had a text message in hours, not even from Alex. It's a quiet night in National City and she should be thankful, but really she's just anxious. There's a familiar name in her phone that hasn't reached out in so long, it's beginning to feel infinite. She doesn't know if she and Lena will ever get back to where they were, even if they aren't truly at odds anymore. Maybe there has been too much said, maybe there has been too much damage done. The lack of closure is enough to drive her to distraction. But her phone remains silent, with only the clock to keep her company.

11:45 and silent.

"I'm glad to see you working hard on this," Andrea says again, blithely unaware of Kara's attempts to deflect her conversation.

"Yep, just focused on this deadline," Kara says through gritted teeth, not even trying to hide her annoyance. Andrea only comes around when she wants something, so Kara braces for a bizarre request. She's not in the mood to play nice or get into an extended conversation, but she also can't afford to get fired.

Andrea pauses at the threshold, pursing her lips. Kara feels the way she lingers, but she chooses to ignore it.

"Can I give you some advice?" Andrea eventually asks, approaching slowly. It's rhetorical, Kara knows. She's going to say whatever she wants anyway. Kara's cheeks go hot. She wants to tell her to mind her business. That no, she's fine in the advice department, thanks. But instead, she simply looks up and offers a blank stare.

"Go see her," Andrea says directly. "Don't let time pass you by."

"What do you--"

"I've known Lena for longer than most--" Andrea interrupts. The way she says Lena's name stops Kara from arguing. "And I've hurt her more than anyone."

"I'm not sure about that," Kara mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Trust me," Andrea insists. She takes a step in toward Kara's desk, which forces Kara's attention to float to her face. Andrea's eyes are cast down, and she chews on her lip the way she does when she's particularly displeased. "It pains me to say this, but I know how she feels about you."

"What do you mean?" Something shifts in Kara's chest at the suggestion.

Andrea's eyebrow raises sharply. "Don't make me spell it out, Kara. You're not as naive as everyone thinks."

"Okay," Kara gulps.

"She's already forgiven you," Andrea says matter-of-factly. "She just needs help admitting it."

"I don't know," Kara says, her heart rate picking up considerably. Can she really trust Andrea to be acting in her best interest? "Why are you helping me?"

"It's not for you," Andrea says sharply. She glances at her watch, clicking her tongue. She looks back at Kara, her mouth slightly open in exasperation. "What are you waiting for?"

Kara slaps her laptop closed. "Thanks, Andrea," she says, shouldering past her in an effort to get to the elevator before Andrea reconsiders.

"Thank me by finishing that article."

It's been ages since Kara has gone to Lena's apartment as herself. As Kara. She toys with the idea of landing on the balcony with her cape billowing slightly behind her, but it doesn't feel right. She doesn't want the crest. Not tonight.

She lands softly and discards the suit, opting for the front entrance. A new beginning, as herself. 

It's past midnight by the time she approaches, but Lena’s light is on, as always. Kara knocks softly.

There's a quiet rustling, and a muffled "Who is it?" behind the door. Kara clears her throat.

"It's me," she says, her voice cracking. "It's--"

The door opens before she can finish.

"Kara," Lena breathes, her eyes wide with surprise. "Is everything okay?"

"Hi," Kara says quickly. Her mouth is terribly dry. Sometimes she forgets just how stunning Lena is. Especially when she hasn't seen her for awhile. It's always unnerving, no matter how many times it happens. "Yes! Yes, everything is fine. I just noticed your light was on. Another sleepless night, huh?" Kara chuckles nervously, unsure what to do. She didn't actually plan before coming over here, which is glaringly obvious now that she's nervous and tongue tied.

"You seem surprised," Lena says softly, a teasing smile on her lips.  "Do you want to come in?"

"Thanks," Kara says, relieved. She follows Lena into her apartment, over to her couch. They haven't sat on it together since Kara thought they were still friends, when she tried to make up for her transgressions by bringing her all her favorite foods. The memory aches in her chest.

They sit in awkward silence, fidgeting amongst themselves until they both start speaking.

"I--"

"Kara--"

Lena's cheeks flush an attractive crimson, and Kara's entire body feels molten. They both bring their eyes sheepishly to the ground, careful to avoid disrupting each other again.

"You can go," Kara insists after a pause.

Lena studies her hands, working her fingers delicately. Her wrist flexes, and Kara is mesmerized. She always had the loveliest, most capable hands. Lena catches her eye finally.

"You aren't wearing your glasses," Lena muses, and it’s so unexpected that Kara unconsciously brings her hand to her eyes. It's a journey of emotions -- first, fear that she's forgotten something crucial, that she's showed up completely unprepared and wrong. But then the cold realization that there are no more walls between them, and what it means, settles in her gut. She lets her hand hang down slowly. "I'm still getting used to it," Lena explains softly.

"I'm sorry--"

"No," Lena shakes her head, smiling. "It's nice. I'm just-- I'm glad you came."

"Me too."

There's an awkward silence, and all Kara can hear is the humming of the dishwasher, an indicator that Lena's out of scotch tumblers. Which means she isn't doing so great, either.

"I wasn't ready to forgive you, before," Kara says, trying to square her shoulders and find the strength to confront this. "After everything, and all the lies, I just kept expecting you to let me down with another con. And you didn't. You just kept showing up, over and over, and I-- I wanted so badly to go back to how we were. But I didn't know if I could get hurt like that again."

"You didn't deserve that," Lena says, hanging her head.

"Neither did you."

"I got lost in the madness of it all. I've always been susceptible," Lena smiles wickedly, her self-deprecation on display. She sighs, her eyes softening. "Part of me kept waiting for you to rescue me."

Kara frowns, her pulse racing. "But I tried -- I did everything I knew how--"

Lena's mouth twitches, her chin quivering. "Not Supergirl." She swallows hard. "You."

Kara's mouth hangs open... She thinks of all the times after - how almost every single time she saw Lena after confessing her identity, she was National City's hero. She was Supergirl, and she was free of pretending -- but in the process, she was someone unknown. It was always heavy, their interactions always pleading and begging on behalf of greater interests, never just them.

"Lena," Kara's voice quivers. "But it was always me."

"Was it?"

Kara hesitates. She isn't sure how to answer that.

"What did you say when you told me why you kept it from me for so long?" Lena asks, her eyes welling with tears. "I was so angry at Supergirl-- but I loved Kara." Lena hesitates, taking a watery breath. "I've always loved Kara."

It hits like a hurricane, and Kara has to remember how to breathe. She inhales sharply. Lena doesn't say anything more.

"And now?" Kara whispers.

"And now," Lena says, smiling through her emotions. "Nothing about that has changed."

Kara's eyes fill with tears. She stands, opening her arms. She doesn't want to talk anymore. She just wants them to fall back into place, fitting together the way they did before. Lena melts into her arms and lets out a sob as she clutches Kara's back.

"I love you, too," Kara whispers into the space between her ear and her neck, holding her as close as possible. "Always."

[lost-khione]

Until We Meet Again

TW: death

I finally managed to finish writing my first fanfic!! 😁

Only ARR made me write a fanfic arggg

This one is in Gaku’s POV and set in the future where Futaba is dead already. I hope I did Yura’s lines right...

I hope you guys tell me how you like it if you read it. 👉👈

Read under the cut. Enjoy~

Every morning, I have this habit of checking my neck. I wake up earlier than Brother so I can do this. I always check my contract emblem - the proof that we are always connected.

"Gaku, would thou also care to look at my neck?" Brother asks as he studies me with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"No. I only need to check mine," I reply as I hurry to fix my clothes.

"You are aware that the bell wands are safely tucked on the bookshelf, right?"

"Yes.”

My eyes automatically flit to the place on the bookshelf where we keep the bell wands with the journal that Futaba and I kept when she was alive.

There was another reason why I woke up early today. I wasn’t really able to sleep much last night because the day today is a special one.

“Gaku,” Brother’s voice breaks my reverie.

I turn to him and his eyes no longer have the teasing glint earlier which is now replaced with a serious look.

He asks, “How many years hath it been since then?”

Instead of saying the words outright, he simply poses this question. So I answer him, “120,” as I look at him blankly not quite seeing him but seeing her from my memories instead.

“Gaku,” Brother calls me again before I get lost completely in my own memories.

He carefully stands up and tugs at my hand.

“Let’s go,” he says while flashing me a sympathetic smile.

I try to smile at him as well because I know looking gloomy won’t bring her back and I know it will just make her sad.

After all these years, I tried to remember how I took her death on our first lives together. But I guess the fact that I took our relationship to the next level on our second life together made all the difference this time. I still can’t help the sadness that’s gnawing at my heart. Lost in my own thoughts, my feet continue to move on their own as Brother leads the way.

We get out of the shrine and find ourselves in front of her grave. Her father allowed us to bury her here. He said back then, “I entrust my daughter to you. I know that she will also rest peacfully knowing she’s buried here.” He was truly a wonderful person.

I look at her grave and just sat in front of it while feeling the gentle breeze. I didn’t notice when Brother left but he just got back with a watering can in hand and his flute on the other.

“We wouldn’t want them to wilt,” he says as he puts his flute down beside me.

He diligently waters the forget-me-nots that we planted there. Once that’s taken care of, he picks up his flute and starts playing a nostalgic song.

So on this day, I let my memories wander and think of her.

I can still remember our final moments together clearly.

She had been living with us at the shrine after catching an incurable disease which was rampant at the Capital. She got permission from her father to spend her final moments with me while getting some treatment from Brother; although, Brother can only ease her suffering since there is no known cure yet.

Brother and I picked her up from their house to help her with her things. She kept on insisting that she can walk but I didn’t let her because I know she was feeling weak. I managed to make her agree to be piggybacked while Brother carried her belongings.

When we got to the shrine, Brother left to give us some space saying that he’ll play with his furry friends. He said, “Gaku, my friends are waiting for me. My Lady, I do hope thou feel at ease here and enjoy the mountain breeze.”

She smiled at Brother and replied, “Thank you for letting me stay here, Yura.”

“Anything for thee my Lady. I shalt take my leave,” and he left after that exchange looking to me briefly to which I responded with a slight nod.

She got her things from Brother and took out a thick leather bound notebook.

I curiously asked, “What do you keep in there? Notes about Divine Arts?”

She smiled happily and replied, “No, silly. Try to guess again.”

I thought out loud, “I’m pretty sure you won’t bring a school notebook.” After giving it some thought, I tried to guess again, “Then, is it empty?”

“You really think my head is only either filled with Divine Arts or none at all, huh?” She looked down looking a bit dejected.

“I really can’t think of anything else that you’d write about and bring with you all the way out here,” I admitted to her.

She didn’t look dejected for long. I think she just feigned dejection at my words.

“Well, it can’t be helped. I’ll let you see what’s inside.”

With that, she handed me the notebook. When I looked at it closely, I saw that it’s not brand new and already used. I noticed that the edges of some pages had some creases that were smoothed out. When I opened it, I was surprised at the words on the first page. It says: Memories with Gaku

I felt my eyes go wide in surprise and I heard Futaba let out a small laugh.

“Was it that surprising?”

I looked at her and said, “I just didn’t expect this. Since when have you been keeping this?”

“I got it since you took me on a date and gave me forget-me-nots. I know that you are well aware that I am a different person from who I was a thousand years ago. And I also understand that you only keep bringing up our past because they hold so much memory for you and my past self. So I decided to keep a journal where I wrote about our treasured memories so that in the future, you will have something to remember me by. At the same time, when we meet again in my next life, you can show me this journal and tell me about our previous lives.”

I felt really touched with how much thought she put into this. I gingerly flipped the pages and found myself asking, “Why did you only show me this now?”

“Well, I wanted to surprise you with it, but I’m not sure when. I thought that I’d show it to you once I fill up this one notebook before I start a new one but then, here we are and it’s not even filled completely. There’s still about one-fourth left to fill. Now, I have decided that both of us will fill the rest of the notebook.

She didn’t need to finish her sentence for me to understand what she meant. She meant to say that she hopes to fill it until the end of her days.

I felt tears prick behind my eyes. Not wanting her to see me shed some tears, I hugged her frail form tightly so as to reassure myself that she was still with me. I felt her arms on my back as well. She rubbed my back soothingly like she understood what I was feeling. She probably did.

After a while, she spoke softly, “I promise I'll be reborn again and this time, I'll be the one to find you.” After a moment, she added, “I won’t forget you”

Her bold proclamation made me smile. I replied frankly, “Don't make promises you can't keep. Don't worry, I'll love you no matter who you might be in your next life.”

She pulled back from me and looked into my eyes. Her reply came almost instantly in a forceful tone, “No, I'll definitely remember. I swear. This is my wish. Before she died, my past self fervently wished to be reborn again and see all of you. I believe that's what enabled all of us again to meet in this era. But I guess I'll be a little selfish this time and wish to remember you when I get reincarnated. And maybe, I can add that I get to be reborn faster this time so you won't have to wait too long.”

She says resolutely that brooks no arguments while gripping my hands.

I could only look at her with loving eyes. And hope that her wish may actually be granted by the powers beyond.

“You know that I have waited for you a thousand years before already, right? I can handle another thousand years if that's what it takes.”

“And here I am wanting to see you as soon as possible but I guess it's only me.”

She was so cute when she pouts so instead of talking back, I just kissed her.

Despite what I said about being able to handle waiting a thousand more years, I continue to count each day and year that passes by.

I’ve kept my promise to you so I am hoping against hope that you actually kept your promise. My mind continues to unconsciously wander through our memories and now I’m remembering about my promise to her. She didn’t want me to promise that I’d find her since she said she’s the one who will find me in her next life. But instead, she wanted me to promise her something. She made me promise to keep a journal and write about myself as I wait for her so that she can read all about it when she’s back. It’s very like her and remembering that put a little smile on my lips.

I continue to sit there with my eyes closed as Brother continues to play his flute. I imagine her smiling in front of me and let my thoughts come out in a whisper, “I know I told you I can wait another thousand years for you. But I still can’t help but actually hope you’ll come back to me sooner this time just like you promised.”

I take a deep breath trying to get a whiff of the scent of the forget-me-nots in bloom even though I know they give off little scent during the day just like how I’m trying to desperately find a clue if she’s already reincarnated somewhere.

I open my eyes resolutely and fixed my gaze on her tombstone. I speak as if talking to her grave means that she can hear me, just like how I always do every year, “I hope your future self is ready to fall in love with me again because I’ll make sure that she does.”

I smile confidently and lift my head to look up at the sky just as dawn is breaking signaling the start of another day. I stand up to retrieve my hand drum and play alongside Brother with a burning hope in my heart that her wish was heard by the powers beyond.

[newsies-and-the-nutcracker]

Newsies but it’s French (Canadian) pt.2

(aka me just getting increasingly frustrated the longer it goes on until I’ve completely lost whatever bits of sanity I had left lol)

~ king of new york scene ~

“We’re in the papes??” “You’re in the papes.” why do I find this so funny help-

“For the good of Jack, we can stop complaining...” not the whole thing but that sounds so out of character for Race I can’t-

After a quick google search, I can confirm that Race says “The world is at our boots.”

The newsies are very confused

Apparently he was meant to say feet.

“I’m talking about our feet!”

…

hOW IN THE WORLD IS THAT EVEN CLOSE TO ‘THE WOILD IS YA ERSTER’-

Okay I’m done

“My own face on a piece of wood!” good for you ig

“I’m respectful. I’m looking at you.” please-

“I am pretty, am I not?” yes race you’re very pretty

“My own bed and an indoor toilet!” wait… does that mean you literally have a toilet outside?? In the open???

“Nothing more normal for a famous journalist!” Irdk how I’m supposed to process this-

“Leave, idiot! It’s her, the king of New York!” guys is this actually what he says in English?? Race why are you so m e a n

“Some…” *checks notes* “depressive defeatists” ?? I just want to know how you got that from “Buncha wet noodles”-

“We were on the verge of drowning ourselves in alcohol.” WHY AM I ONLY NOW FIGURING OUT WHAT SOME OF THESE LINES MEAN AS I’M WATCHING IT IN F R E N C H ???

They cut out a lot of the background comments during the dance break and now I’m sad

After Katherine’s little dance: “It’s a joke, I hope.” wow

“You’ll see what the Delancey’s do in their pants!” that sounds so wrong I-

“Friends can leave, let them be!” I don’t think that’s what they were trying to say but okay

~ letter from the refuge scene ~

“There’s guards here, they’re mean.” WOW JUST TEAR MY HEART OUT WHY DONTCHA-

“If they tell us to jump, we obey, if not we’re screwed.” ow

“The rooftop misses me.” I give up.

“It’ll go. I’m in shape.”

“End.” the only time they decide not the put ‘the’ unnecessarily in front of something-

“Good, that’s enough.” how rude

yeah that’s all for that song. I hope you guys weren’t actually expecting me to find much humour in that one

~ watch what happens reprise scene ~

“You are a love.” ??

Guys where I live if you say “tant mieux pour vous.” it means “Too bad for you” and that’s literally what Jack just told Davey-

“Stop. I understand. It’s useless.” eh close enough

“Good blood, where do you have to go to avoid you guys?”

“It’s impossible. We are inevitable.” since when did Davey actually become Thanos?

“And this here girl, Sally, she’s great.” :(

“We say that you wrote a good article.” “You seem horrible.” they’re much more salty in this version-

“Yes, it’s true. And, he is dead.” uhh guess who’s not going to Santa Fe-

“We can forget that and go back to work?” the person who wrote this had a real passion for butchering Les’ lines lol

“Be positive. No one is dead.” mmmmmmmmmmm-

“Is that what you’re hoping for??” MMMMMMMMMMMMMM-

“There’s no question of cents, Jack!” yk what? sure. i don’t even care at this point-

“We’ll do what?” he sounds like he doesn’t even want to win.

“We’re already winning.” “Agreed.” ABORT ABORT THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO S A Y JACK-

“And ‘voila’ why I think that Joe is an idiot. It’s a rattlesnake.” “... Yes.” you heard it right here, guys. if it’s a rattlesnek, it’s an idiot

“And you know why a snake whistles?” WHAT

“He is scared.”

“Go see, the poor of the head that’s spinning.” This is shredding whatever bits of sanity I had left-

“Why send the brutes?” idk why Davey

“You have maybe reason!” “Thank you!”

“And I have an appointment!”

no but when you say you have a ‘rendez-vous’ here where I live, it means you have like a doctors appointment or something lol

~ the bottom line reprise scene ~

“After his release, I surprised him myself!”

“If that’s the case, we’re going to bring him in... in softness.” nice of them

“... or the little thief?” I’m really starting to think that they lack like 99% of words in the French language-

“I was fighting in a war.” “And that turned out well for you?” get wrecked joe

“Rally as much as you want, no journal in town will talk about it.” guys I don’t have enough serotonin for this-

“Everyone here knows you’re horrible!” they made Jack sound like a little kid in the translation, and honestly I’m not even disappointed lol

“We’re missing time, little.” I don’t even know what to say-

“Your abject surrender was always the bottom of the problem.” sure why not

“Gentlemen, escort our guest to the cave-” well isn’t he nice?

“Be happy you’re alive, little. That’s the essential.”

“Yeah, so go!” ?? how is that even remotely close to “Yeah, so behave!” ??????

“I exercised my favourite American punch!” uhhhh good for you?

“You can sleep here, on this old press! It’s very firm.” help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up-

~ brooklyn’s here scene ~

“The sellers need our help! The sellers need our help! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving!”

“We’re from Brooklyn, we’re the sellers from Brooklyn!” UHHHHH EXCUSE ME???

“We just learned that our friends are going wrong!” please you heard they were ‘going wrong’ like five days ago-

“You know we’re there for you, since always.” oH rEaLlY???

“Brooklyn is there!”

“Strikes aren’t nice, but they’re passionate!” well I’m glad you think so

“Let’s shout it, Brooklyn is there!”

“Aaaaand sooooooo!!” “Sooooooooo!!” “Soooooooooo!!!” “We will send you half road, just to Queens!”

“The pigeons are going to get soaked!” aaaaaand we’re back to the pigeons-

“What sad way to finish your career!” they sound so sarcastic I can’t-

“They’re not serious, but if they think we’re laughing…” i feel low-key threatened-

“Let’s shout it!” well if you try hard enough, you can make it sound like “loud and clear!”?

“Manhattan is theeere, Flushing is theeere, “Richmond is theeere, Woodside is theeere, and the Bronx too!!”

“Sorry, little. No news of him.” I just… why does it translate to “little”?

“You are alone, we could say.” “No.” “Yes.”

Medda really isn’t taking no for an answer-

“The sellers of journals of New York!” I’m crying why is it such a mouthful-

“You want to be treated like an adult? Act like an adult!”

~ something to believe in scene ~

“It’s Specs!” wow kath throw specs under the bus like that-

“And if I was a boy you’d be looking at me with a butter black eye!” I’ve officially given up on the French language I’m sorry-

“You win a fight when the other guy bites the dust.” and another one gone and another one gone-

“If there’s a way I could grab hold of something,” has literally been shortened to ‘if I could.’ IF I COULD-

“If I could stop time.” I’m so mad

“Really?” “Really.” ahhHHHHHHHHHHH

“But it’s going. It’s going.”

“... who didn’t even know she gave me a hope.” WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT IF THE TITLE ANYMORE??

“But it’s going. It’s going.” The thrilling sequel

“No. I’m scared of you.” “No!” yeesh-

“I believe in something.” good for you

~ once and for all scene -

“He is with us.” but like… how much?? only 99 percent????

“We could hold a hoedown here.” I feel like the person translating this just gave up by the end of the show-

“Happy to have found you again.” what did you like lose him or something

“The close.” ok yes that’s funny, but it gets even funnier when you realize it could also be translated to “the farm.”

“A little grease, and she’ll be like new.”

“This is for the guys who kill themselves at the factories.” w h a t

‘THE BANNER OF SELLERS OF JOURNALS’ I’m still not over this

~ everything that comes after that ~

“Anyone who doesn’t act in their own self interest is an idiot!” ey watch it-

also what the heck is ‘quiconque’ I swear I’ve never seen that word in my life

“We will find a way, but let’s seize the moment.” first it was “the chance” and now it’s “the moment” google translate are u okay-

They really went and changed ‘bully’ to ‘monster’ didn’t they

“You can make it.” he really makes it sound like Jack is about to die or something-

“It’s disgusting!” you’re disgusting sir

“And the world will know, we’ve been taking notes.”

“It’s a joke!” nope lol

“Goodbye, fool!” I’M LAUGHING WAY TOO HARD ABOUT THIS-

“Well you already work for my father.” “Yes.”

“Super, Jack Kelly!” I CAN’T-

“So, Jack, you’re staying?” yeah sure close enough-

“Sellers of journals on a mission!”

Das it ‘my friends’ lol. Hope you enjoyed.

[yourmcu]

Wish You Were Here (i)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Avengers x Stark!reader

Summary:

an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Tony Stark’s daughter (you) is one of half the population that vanishes in the snap, Tony finds out later on when he arrives back to Earth, devastated, then you come back like the others to help fight Thanos.

Word count: 2,030

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: angst, death, swearing, a lil soft!Nat in the beginning bc I love her, mentions of anxiety/anxiety

read on ao3!

Part 2

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

You wanted to help in whatever was happening, you weren’t quite sure still, but it had something to do with the infinity stones and how you guys needed to find them before some guy named Thanos does.

It took a lot of convincing for Steve, Natasha and Rhodey (they were the ones more protective over you) to let you come, especially with Tony not around to scold you since he was in space.

“I’m coming with you guys whether you like it or not - no, I know what you’re gonna say, I can handle myself. I’m sixteen! Did you know Peter’s in space right now with Dad? Outer freaking space. You’re not the only one who has a suit, Rhodey-”

The argument ended with, “if something happens and I-” you dragged your thumb across your neck, “then it’s on me. None of you are to blame. Can we go now?”

So they didn’t have any other choice. You went to Wakanda with them to get the mind stone out of Vision and intend to destroy it afterwards.

Things got a *bit* out of hand though, there was an army of creatures - they’re from space, you assumed, working for Thanos - trying to get the stone. You fought alongside Sam and Rhodey, sometimes even fighting with Bruce who was using the Hulkbuster. You also helped the Wakanda tribes when they got overpowered by the creatures.

Even Thor came back to fight and he brought a raccoon and a tree with him.

The battle was going really messy, until - “Everyone on my position. We got incoming.”

You fly to where Cap and the team are, and there he is coming out of what appears to be a cloudy, blue grayish portal, Thanos himself.

“Cap, that’s him.” Bruce says as he hides you behind the Hulkbuster to shield you. He slowly walks over to the purple titan before saying, “stay down, [Y/N], alright?”

Did all of them suddenly forget that you, if not more, are stubborn like your father?

Because when all of them attack, you fly behind Thanos when he's distracted and wrap both your metal covered arms around his neck in stupid attempts to strangle him. He effortlessly uses his gauntlet to throw you back to the ground, knocking you out.

He eventually got all the stones, snapped his fingers when Thor failed to kill him, and left.

“What did you do?!”

“Where did he go? Thor, where did he go?”

“What’s happening?” You get off the ground as Bucky turns to dust. You look around and saw the air filled with the same dust, just from different people.

What the hell did that snap do?

People are vanishing, disappearing, are they dying? Why are they dying? You’re pretty sure you're panicking. Your lips start to quiver and you feel your chest tighten, making it hard for you to breathe.

Natasha notices right away. She's the one who could help you with your anxiety attacks besides Tony. She comes to you and places her hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eye. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, you’re fine, just breathe with me,”

You watch Wanda, one of  your best friends, turn to dust too which did not help in the slightest. What’s worse is when Natasha holds your hands to calm you down,

They start turning into dust particles.

“No no no no no no,” you grow weak, holding onto her. “Nat, I’m scared - I don’t - I don’t know what to-”

“Y/N, just breathe like we practiced, okay?”

You try copying her breathing but it’s no use. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still fading away. You look at her, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes, “I’m so sorry.” She has no choice but to hug you tightly until you get dusted completely.

The Avengers just lost a kid. Not just any kid, for them you were special. You always supported the team no matter what. They couldn’t even imagine what Tony’s reaction would be.

When Natasha told Pepper of course she didn’t take it well.

You were Tony’s own flesh and blood (and some one night stand chic that we won’t mention anymore starting now), but Pepper helped raised you when Tony first took you in and treated you like her own. Sometimes you even called her ‘mom’.

She was so relieved when a spaceship came by the compound to drop Tony off - he looked weak and skinny - she didn’t know how to break the awful news to him while he was in that condition.

“I lost the kid,” he meant Peter. What he doesn’t know was that he actually lost two.

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.”

Bruce and Natasha keep looking over one another as images of the people they lost in the snap took turns popping up as holograms. Rhodey feels tense and keeps tapping his foot - nervous of what his best friend’s gonna do once he sees-

Tony abruptly stands up from his wheelchair. “Stop. Stop there.” (“Tony, you need to sit down,”) “No.” He stumbles over to a particular hologram, the one with his daughter’s face.

Y/N Stark.

The room is awfully quiet. Despite you telling them that it isn’t going to be any of their faults if something happens to you, they still feel responsible for you.

“Was anyone going to tell me?” He speaks softly. Too soft and calm for all of them that they remain glued to where they're standing, avoiding eye contact. He clenches his fists and sends a look to  everyone in the room. “You better not be shitting me I already lost Parker and I - I can’t - I can’t lose her. I can’t.”

“Tony,” Natasha says. “We couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

It's like being stabbed with his own blade all over again. She tells him everything that happened, how you got dusted like Peter, and Tony just stares blankly at your photo, looking very pale.

Tony takes a deep breath and pushes his glasses further up his nose, holding in  tears. Good thing his glasses cover it up. He mutters ‘okay’ over and over as he takes a seat back in his wheelchair. Steve hesitates to continue the discussion but Tony encourages him to go on, even though he feels like he was literally dying inside.

His mood definitely went downhill from there - Tony's furious with himself. Furious with them, with Steve, that he takes it out on the super soldier. By the end of it he's on the floor, passed out.

“Dad, come in, it’s [Y/N]. Everything alright out there?”

“Oh y’know, typical day in the city - pair of aliens came to visit again.” Tony sounded breathless.

You paused briefly. “...what? W-well, do you need help? I can help, and Peter’s probably on his way there - he just made a lame excuse and hung up on me so, I figured he sensed something was wrong.”

“Yeah. Stay where you are and when things get worse, find Pepper and get to safety.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope. Deadass serious. Stay out of this one.”

Tony opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. He's transferred to a bed with the same wires poking his arm. He dreamt of his last conversation with you - before and while he was dragged to space.

“Hey, I’m still here, you know,” you cut him off while he was arguing with Strange.

“[Y/N]? How is this still connected?”

“I made the earpiece set myself - I guess it has really long range, huh?”

“You’re a nerd.” Tony cracked a small smile.

“Hi [Y/N]!” Peter shouted from a distance.

“Peter? You’re in space too? I’m so jeal-”

The line completely went out, guess the range wasn’t that long.

“Tony?” Pepper says gently. “You shouldn’t be up - it’s only been an hour since you passed out.”

He looks at her for a moment then returns his attention to the wall, eyes bloodshot. “Have I been a good father to her? ‘Cause I feel like she deserved more. Way more.”

“Of course, she loved you! Tony, [Y/N] loved you as much as you love her,” Pepper reassures, running a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset but you really should be getting bed rest right now.”

He sniffles and gave a small nod, “okay.”

He closes his eyes again when she left the room and sigh, mumbling “goddammit kid,” before letting the tears flow down. Tony rarely cries. Barely cries. He usually keeps those stupid emotions in but this - the fact that his little girl is gone, it's too much for him. He realized never fully showed how much you meant to him and he regrets it.

Can't help but think that it should've been me Either way, I still wish you were here.

Fast forward to five years later: Tony now lived at a lakeside cabin with Pepper and their daughter, Morgan.

Moving on was better than to be sad and depressed for the rest of his life. That’s what you wanted for him anyway, to be happy.

So that’s exactly what Tony did.

He spent time with his family, made new suits which he enjoyed to do, living his life peacefully. That doesn’t mean he forgot about you. Sure the last few years were hard, he missed you every single day, but he had to face and accept it.

Tony moved your stuff from the compound and into a vacant room in the cabin. Sometimes he’d look through your crazy inventions, your journals that were filled with ideas for future gadgets and he hung up framed photos of you and him (some with Pepper) on the walls.

He told Morgan all about you. How awesome you were, how you were energetic and enthusiastic in everything you do, and how the both of you would be best friends if you two met.

“I wanna meet her,” Morgan says, looking at pictures of you.

Tony smiles sadly and looks at the photo of you and him. It was at your school’s science fair and your invention won first place (he remembered laughing at all the science teachers’ shocked faces because of your advanced gadget, way advanced than the grade you were in). Both of you looked really happy.

If a picture is all that I have, I can picture the times that we won't get back If I picture it now it don't seem so bad Either way, I still wish you were here.

“Someday, maybe.” He replies, giving her a warm smile.

Steve, Natasha and a new guy Scott visited him one day. They basically told him bringing back everyone who died in the snap was possible, hinting time travel.

Tony was torn. He didn’t want to risk losing what he had now, but bringing everyone back... that was something. Everyone in the universe that vanished, the other Avengers, the guardians he met in space, Strange, Peter, you.

That same night he thought about you, and Peter when he stumbled upon a picture of both of them. That same night, he figured out time travel.

“Hey legacy,” he chuckles a bit, remembering how you always frowned or pouted whenever he called you that. He likes that nickname on you though. “I... uh, this is just a little video. For you. Sure you won’t see this but... I like to pretend I could still talk to you. I miss you, a lot.”

“It’s been five years, hun. Morgan, your sister... you have no idea how much she talks about you. She wants to meet you someday,” he looks at the camera. “I know I can’t tell her the real reason why you’re not here with us, not yet, but anyway, ‘couple of old pals came to visit me. They want to try to get everyone back, that includes you.”

Tony sighs, looking away. “As of now I don’t know if we’re ever gonna pull off something like this. I figured it out, just a couple minutes ago actually. Time travel. It’s dangerous, very risky...”

“But we’ll see. We’ll figure something out. I hope to see you soon, [Y/N]. I love you.”

----

so I’ve cut this lil idea into two parts - I’ll probs post part 2 soon right after this one - if everyone likes it of course :)

oh, and I listened to this song by Neck Deep while writing this, which is where I got the title too, you can listen here. (I also put in some lyrics from the song to the story, just because it fits well hehe)

[a-la-la-llama]

The One Where Marinette Gets Fetched #10

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 11

  Titus had been restless ever since his first escape. The poor thing had been itching to get out again. He even stopped wanting to take walks around the estate. It made Damian upset to see his beloved dog so unhappy. The problem was he didn’t trust anyone outside the grounds to treat Titus like he should be. To be honest, no one in his family could except Alfred. His father and adopted siblings were incompetent as they were in practically everything. Damian was reluctant but eventually caved in the end.

  So he pulled on his most inconspicuous clothes that an average person would wear, or at least what he thought average people wore and led Titus out the door with a leash. Alfred had suggested he didn’t go to the private secluded parks near the area and one more in the city. It was like a walled area for muggers to catch high paying victims once they left. The city parks had more people and made it easier to blend in. It was also where Titus seemed to prefer to go. As soon as they passed the gates, the dog practically dragged him. Damian could have reeled him back in but the smile he swore was Titus’ face stopped him.

  Titus had conveniently brought a blue tennis ball with him while Damian held his leash and carried a satchel across his chest. The pair made their way to a secluded open field that provided enough room for the Great Dane to run around. A game of fetch ensued between the two. A throw too far set Titus on a chase. Something must have caught his eye because as soon as he got the ball he took off through a small grove of trees.

‘Must have seen a squirrel.’, sufessed Damian.

He sat down and took out his sketchbook and a few pencils. He preferred a monochrome look than a full-fledged colored drawing. Damian began to sketch his surroundings as he waited for Titus to tire himself out.

///~///~///~///~///~///~///

“Guardian, may we visit that tree Tikki had mentioned before? It has been a long time since I’ve been able to climb a real tree. Who knows how bad my climbing skills have gotten!”, Xuppa pleaded.

“Well, as long as you are able to stay hidden from all passersby I guess I can let you all roam around.”, declared Marinette.

“That’s why we want to go to the tree on the hill, silly Guardian. It’s a clearing surrounded by trees! It’s perfect!”, Daizzi teased with a small oink at the end.

“I guess you have a point. Okay, through these trees we shall go! Are my loyal and trustworthy Miri’s ready?”, joked Marinette.

“Of course, our fair Lady.”, Pollen continued.

“I’m always loyal to you, Guardian.”, said Barkk.

�� The journey was long and treacherous for the group. Well, not really but it was fun to pretend they were on an adventure. Instead of a park, they were in an unexplored jungle. Having to avoid deadly obstacles such as couples and people reading peacefully under the trees. Then Marinette had been attacked by a poisonous tree root sticking out above ground. The root caused blindness temporarily which resulted in her tripping over it and falling. That led to the kwami’s having to lead her around with her eyes closed. It was like she was a little girl again playing with her- her-. Yeah, it was nice having fun with her Miri’s! They marched up the small hill with everyone following her like ducklings while they sang a Guardian-folk song.

“Alright! We have arrived at our destination. All Kwami exit the station as the Marinette train studies her sign language notes!”, she announced.

They all floated off into the tree as she sat under it and pulled out her journal. Reconnecting with the English language just to learn a new one based off of it. Then Damian had challenged her on who would do best on the ASL quiz next Friday. She couldn’t back down and was now forcing herself to study. Nooroo timidly floated out of the bag towards her. He had opted out of joining their song now that she thought about it.

“Master, I am sorry to bother you but are you certain it is all right for us to roam around?”, the butterfly mumbled.

The poor thing was greatly affected by their time in Paris. Duusuu could feed off the happy emotions of the others but Nooroo put the fault on himself. Gabriel had done a number on the poor kwami.

“You can call me Marinette or Guardian, Nooroo. Of course you can come out! Don’t worry so much, that's my job.”, she reassured. It got a small smile out of the kwami before he zipped off.

 She was going over her greetings when she saw the kwami go in and out of her bag. Everytime they would come out with their personal snacks.

“Did everybody pack something to eat and forget to tell me?”, she pouted.

“Sssssorry Mari. We forgot to tell you. We could alwayssss sssshare our ssssnackss.”, Sass hissed out.

“You should try some of my honey-covered croissants! They’re amazing!”, buzzed Pollen.

“No, eat my seeds!”

“My dried bananas are the best!”

“Carrots!”

“Biscuits!”

“I’m so happy. I love food!”

They all hurriedly shouted above each other trying to offer her their snacks.

“Calm down, Miri’s! I appreciate your generosity. Though camembert sounds delicious right now.”, she commented with a side glance at the certain kwami. The cheese glutton couldn’t do anything but drop his jaw at her request. He had been the only one to not say anything and the Guardian knew it.

“Minibug, you can’t be serious! My cheese smells bad. You won’t even like it. Trust me! You’re better off eating one of Sass’ boiled eggs.”, Plagg tried to redirect her taste and the other kwami’s glares.

“I’m teasing Plagg. I just had breakfast not too long ago.”, she said.

“Geez, Mari! Everyone looked on the verge to kill me.”, he huffed before stuffing the entire wheel in his mouth.

  Marinette and the kwami’s settled back down as she put in her earbuds and continued to study. Everything was nice and dandy for another forty-five minutes until she heard a faint shout from Tikki.

“Marinette look out!”

It was too late for the guardian however. By the time she knew it, Marinette was being dragged by the collar of her hoodie away from the tree. All of her stuff was left behind as her kidnapper ran at an alarming rate. She was pulled down hill, past the trees, dragged through a clearing for a while until she was dropped face first onto the grass. A dog started barking as soon as she was released.

“Titus! What is the meaning of this. You can’t just grab random- Marinette?”, the person said.

Marinette rubbed her head as she lifted herself up. This person knew her? She was met with the somewhat familiar face of Damian.

“H-Hey Damian, does this happen to be your dog or is there a better reason it just dragged me fifty yards to drop me here?”, she stuttered.

“No, it is not. I just happened to be able to read it’s name tag without moving. Of course it’s my dog, idiot!”, he sneered.

“Hey! How would you like it if you were suddenly getting yanked to gods know where by the collar and felt like you were choking?”, she retorted, rubbing her neck.

“What are you even doing here, Marinette?”, he questioned with narrowed eyes.

“First, this is a public park. I was studying some notes before your crazy- oh my kwami it’s taller than me!”, she gasped looking at the dog. She knew it wasn’t taller than her but her position of sitting on the floor made it tower over her. Marinette had met it before.

“Titus is a perfectly sized Great Dane. You’re the one with a pathetic stature. I suggest you change your diet to one suited to help with growth. Maybe incorporate beans, quinoa, or chicken if you're an inhumane meat-eater.”, he said.

“Yes, because I can totally fund a lifestyle change like that. Also, I’m average height. You’re the one that’s too tall!”, complained Marinette.

Titus wagged his tail back and forth as Marinette scratched his head in her lap.

“We had been playing with his tennis ball and I assumed he went to chase after an animal of some sort. Then he came back with you.”, Damian explained.

“So your dog basically fetched me.”, she summarized.

“You could put it that way.”, he commented.

“As adorable as Titus is, I have to go get my stuff before someone decides to take it. See you at school on Monday, I guess.”, Marinette said as she got up, much to the displeasure of Titus. Said dog barked in complaint as his attention giver left.

“Tt. I’m not sure what you have done to him but Titus should not be acting this way. He is supposed to be a feared guard dog, you have made him soft!”, he huffed.

“Feared like you with the rest of the student body at Gotham Academy? You still haven’t told me what got you to be dubbed an ‘Ice Prince’.”, Marinette said.

Damian only packed up his stuff and walked away.

Now, Marinette had to walk all the way back to the tree. The Miri’s were definitely going to lecture her.

I am sooooo soooo sorry for not posting this last week! I went out of town and it completely slipped my mind... sorry.

Tag list

@legallyspawned @chocolate1721 @spartanxhunterx @dreamykitty25 @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @loveswifi @amayakans @jeptwin @thewonderlandartist @buticaaba @books-and-left-behind-journals @gigibnl @aegyobutpsycho2 @crazylittlemunchkin @maribat-is-lifeblood @myazael @abrx2002 @pawsitivelymiraculous @silvergold-swirl @chaos-inperson @marichatcameback @olynix @ash-amg @elmokingkong @kitsunebell @yin-390 @indecisive-mess-named-me @jeminiikrystal @startouchedqueen1318  @alexandriamw @zalladane @how-to-fuction-properly @k-poplunardreams @majorcurious007 @ironspiderstark @laurcad123 @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @goddessofthewestwind @goblinwhoships @irontimetravelflower @thequeenoftheundead

[teamhook]

Happy Birthday Fic:: Always, Always a Bridesmaid

Hello all! Okay, before I go on. Please, don't give me (this post) that look. I know, I know I have multiple WIPs going but I had to add one more to the list. It's out of love. This story is for @ultraluckycatnd because she is the sweetest thing ever. She Betas for me and that is no easy job. She is quick to volunteer to help whenever  anyone needs help.

I humbly gift her with this story. It's one of her fave movies and it's her birthday so yes I'm adding a WIP for her.

Happy Birthday!! Hope you like your present.

Thanks to @demisexualemmaswan , @snowbellewells​ for Beta services and @veryverynotgoodwrites​ ,  @the-darkdragonfly​ for looking this over when I was feeling unsure.

Killian Jones, the New York Journal's most popular wedding announcement writer, was the world's biggest cynic when it came to love. That is, until he met Emma Swan, the perpetual bridesmaid. Will their different views on weddings cause them to lose out on what's in front of them, or can they open themselves up to the possibility of love?

FFN

AO3

Emma Swan grew up loved but that wasn't always the case. As a baby, she was found on the side of the road wrapped in a blanket with her name on it. She was taken to Child Protective Services and soon after was adopted by the Swans, a family unable to have children of their own. Three years later a miracle happened in the shape of a baby of their own, and they found themselves overwhelmed and decided to return Emma.

Emma was soon after adopted by Midas Goldman and his beloved wife Rosalind. They fell in love with precocious Emma. A few years after finding Emma the stork paid them a visit in the form of a little girl Kathryn. Happiness filled the Goldman household until the unexpected loss of the matron of the family saddened the home.

Emma's adoptive family had embraced her as one of them easily. Not long after her adoptive mother Rosalind passed away. Emma took it upon herself to be strong and help her father care for her younger sister Kathryn. Seeing her father's broken heart over his late wife's death and his trouble functioning after her loss, Emma took it upon herself to care for her family.

Emma had loved weddings since the very first wedding she had attended. It had been a beautiful day at the old church with an enchanting garden. It was the first family outing after the loss of Rosalind. The cathedral was full of close friends and family. It was the day a distant cousin's nuptials were to take place. After helping her cousin fix an unfortunate accident with her dress Emma was asked to carry the wedding gown train, and that moment she realized she had helped someone on the most important day of their life. That was when she fell in love with weddings. The very idea of finding one's happy ending and pledging to be with them forever was perfect in her eyes. She felt it was her calling to help the ones she loved to find their happy endings.

Emma stood in front of a long mirror wearing a beautiful wedding dress. She twirled and smiled wide at the reflection staring back at her.

"Oh my god, Emma you look so beautiful!" Johanna, the seamstress, said while putting the finishing touches on the dress.

"The bride is on the phone for you, Emma."

"Oh, thank you. Hello, Mary Margaret. Yes, they hemmed the dress and it's done. We're lucky we are the same size. I'll be on my way. Don't worry about anything. It's your day." Emma turned to Johanna and her assistant, and said with a smile. "Thank you."

Emma rushed out of the bridal shop to get to the church.

"Ems, wait for me," Ruby said as she caught up with Emma.

Emma smiled at her friend. "Hey, Ruby. Come on before MM freaks out."

"I know, I know." Ruby grinned wolfishly. "Ems, before we get in there I get dibs on the hottest groomsman."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Can't you keep it in your pants, just for once?"

"Nope, why else would I agree to wear this ridiculous dress, but to have someone take it off with his teeth?"

"It's not that bad, Ruby," Emma scoffed.

"I know, I know. You can shorten them and wear them again." Ruby put an arm around Emma's shoulder and giggled as they entered the church.

Mary Margaret stood in front of the mirror wearing her princess-like dress. She was about to marry her Prince Charming in a couple of minutes and everything was perfect thanks to her maid of honor and close friend: her savior, Emma.

Lamentably, the day was going to be a long one for Emma. Her friends had decided to get married on the same day. Helping them both have their perfect wedding and thanks to her inability to say no, she would have to split her time between MM's wedding and Jasmine's.

During MM's nuptials, Emma kept glancing down to check the time on her watch. She had to leave soon if she wanted to make it to Jasmine's wedding ceremony on time. She put on her biggest smile and hoped she would make it on time. The moment the ceremony ended, she ran out of the door. She didn't even notice that she had caught the attention of one of the guests.

In an effort to make her night easier she caught a taxi outside and made a deal with him: $300 flat for the whole night: but with one stipulation no peeking or she deducts. The taxi driver quickly accepts but is unable to control himself and loses $20 within five minutes of agreeing to the deal.

Unfortunately, her efforts didn't go unnoticed by the guest staring at the back of the cab, who got an eyeful and smirked appreciatively at the sight.

After fulfilling her duties at Jasmine and Al's wedding she returned to MM and David's reception. As the night reached its inevitable end, Emma was among the rest of the single ladies as they lined up for the bouquet toss. MM noticed Emma's place and the forever romantic bride decided to throw the bouquet to her bridesmaid savior.

Emma was pushed out of the way by an overly excited redheaded relative in hopes to catch the bouquet for herself. Emma hit her head as she was falling, lost consciousness, and fell to the floor. The woman who had pushed her triumphantly jumped up and down with her trophy in hand.

Countless people had rushed to Emma's prone body on the floor but one man ushered people away. "Everybody please calm down, give the lass some room to breathe." The bride and groom caught his eye as Emma started moving. "The lass is alright, she's coming to. Someone get me some water."

Mary Margaret and David walked away to get him some water for Emma.

"Love, do you know your name?" The stranger asked.

Emma groggily opened her eyes. "My name is Emma. Are you a doctor?"

"Emma, I'm afraid not. My name is Killian Jones." Killian turned to the crowd, "She's fine. It was just a little bump on the head." He smiled at her and gently helped her to her feet.

She groaned as she stumbled a bit. He quickly put his hand on her lower back to help give her some support.

"Love, perhaps it's time to get a taxi and get you home."

Emma stiffened for a second but realized the night had caught up with her but agreed.

They walked outside and Killian was about to hail a cab when her cabbie for the night got out and went to open the door for them. Emma walked towards her cab. Killian didn't hesitate and follows her lead. Once inside the cab, Emma gave the driver her address. Killian noticed that there was another dress and a pair of shoes. He smirked, "Ah, yes. How could I forget such a sight? I loved your thong by the way. Very sexy," he added with a wink.

Emma looked at him confused.

"I saw you changing gowns earlier." He waggled his eyebrows. "The back window of the taxi gave away quite the view."

Emma rolled her eyes and turned away to hide her blush. She looked out the window as they passed the countless buildings.

Killian leaned towards Emma, "Tell me love, why two weddings in one day, isn't one bad enough?"

Emma sighed, "Isn't it obvious? I love weddings and they're both really good friends. I couldn't say no."

"Ah, let me guess you love the forced merriment? Or is it perhaps the horrid music or is it the delectable food?" He said mockingly.

Emma stared him down. "Oh look at that! What a surprise, a man who doesn't believe in marriage. Oh, goodie what a treat."

He rolled his eyes, "Love is patient. Love is kind.

Love is slowly losing your mind."

"What is it you do again?" Emma asked with a raised eyebrow.

He smiled. "I'm a writer, love."

The cab came to a sudden stop.

She turned to him gasping, "Oh look at that, that's my building. Thanks for the help, bye now!" She rushed to grab her things and get out of the cab.

Killian followed her out and was about to pull out his wallet when Emma stopped him, "No, I got it." She leaned over to hand the cab driver his fare for the night and whispered with a scolding tone, "You know what you did."

Killian doesn't think twice to follow her.

Emma stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh no, what are you doing?"

"I'm escorting you home, it's what a gentleman does." Killian smiled.

Emma rolled her eyes. "So now you're a gentleman. I don't need you to escort me home. I'm fine." She hurried back to the cab as he was about to drive away, "Wait, he is coming back, one second." She smiled and walked back to where Killian was waiting. "He is waiting for you."

Killian looked back to the cab and turned back to see her putting more distance between them. He sighed in defeat walking to the cab and yelled, "Love, will you be at any weddings next week?" There was no answer.

"Sir, are you in or out?" the cab driver yelled out.

Killian took one last glance in the direction Emma had disappeared and climbed aboard the cab.

Killian sighed as they took off. His eyes caught sight of what appeared to be a notebook underneath the seat. He pulled it out and pondered asking the driver to go back. A wide smile broke out on his face.

The next day Emma woke up refreshed. She had so much fun at both weddings, but what she was really excited about was the Sunday newspaper. She was looking for something specific, the wedding announcements in the Commitment section. She loved the way James Rogers, the writer spun the stories. His wedding write-ups/articles have always been her favorite.

Monday morning, Emma was waiting for Ruby outside of their work. Ruby strutted towards her wearing a man's shirt and pants smirking.

Emma studied her friend and shook her head in disapproval.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "What? I wasn't going to wear my bridesmaid dress to work. I improvised." She winked at Emma.

Emma laughed, "You must be so proud! The two-day walk of shame outfit."

"Alright, Ems, just because you refuse to have some fun doesn't mean we all have to."

Emma rolled her eyes. She was looking for more than just a roll in the hay.

Killian was walking down the busy New York street to work with a little pep in his walk. His friend Victor was waiting for him with a cup of coffee.

Killian smiled widely. "Good morning, mate. What a lovely day!"

Victor stared at him. "Jones, did you get lucky?"

Killian took a sip of his offered drink. "Not in the way you think. I have an idea for a story that will get me out of writing stuff like 'The bride wore a gown that sparkled like the groom's eyes…'"

"Seriously? I still can't believe you are not getting laid. Damn it, Killian. Commitments is the gold standard of wedding announcements. Brides would do just about anything to get in there. If you know what I mean."

Killian scrunched his face. "Victor, do you have an idea what you're saying?"

Victor Whale was a new kind of dog. He smiled wickedly at Killian. "Think about it. They won't call you. They won't bother you. They will pretend they never even met you.

You can't beat that."

"It doesn't matter. This my friend." Killian took out a beat-up planner. "This is my ticket out of Commitments."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Cora likes you where you are," Victor mocked.

"Go away, you prat." Killian ushered Victor away.

Emma was at her job looking frantically for her planner. She walked to Ruby's office. "Hey, did I leave my planner here?"

Ruby quirked a brow. "I haven't seen it. Ems, don't worry it will show up."

Emma bit her bottom lip. "I hope so."

Ruby bumped Emma's shoulder, "Hey, what happened to you at the wedding? Where did you disappear to? Wait did you meet someone? Please tell me you got lucky." Ruby jumped up and down in excitement.

"No, nothing like that. I was around," Emma muttered, biting her lower lip distractedly. She needed to find her Filofax.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot, what a ridiculous thought." Ruby rolled her eyes.

Emma scoffed, "Alright, I'm going to get the catalog pages for Graham from production."

Ruby sighed.

Killian knocked on his boss's door. "Cora, I have the perfect idea for a story." He gave her his most charming smile.

Cora stared him down. "Your pretty face gets you a lot but not wasting my time. Out with it, what is this great idea?" she asked, unamused.

"I swear you will love it." He handed her the planner. "This woman has been in seven weddings-"

"So?" She rolled her eyes as she thumbed through the planner.

"That's seven weddings just this year. She was in two on Saturday alone," Killian insisted.

Killian could tell his boss was still not sold on the idea. "But it will not be just about her. I will offer an insightful look at how the wedding industry has altered what should be a rite of passage into nothing more than a golden egg. In a fun upbeat cheerful way."

He sighed. "Cora, I'm dying in Commitments. I cannot write another sentence about love at first sight. I want to write a real story. I will quit if you don't start giving me feature stories."

"That's what you're good at. Killian, it's not my fault you have a silver tongue."

"One chance. That's all I want. If you don't like it, I will go back to Commitments for the rest of my life with a big smile on my devilishly handsome face."

"Deal." She smiled.

Emma was still looking for her planner like a madwoman. She couldn't find it anywhere. If she lost it... she shuddered at the thought.

Ruby peeked inside Emma's office. "Are you still looking for your planner?"

"Yeah," Emma sighed. "I'm sure it's somewhere. So do you think Graham will like these photos for the fall catalog?"

Ruby sighs dramatically, "Oh yes, Graham is going to love them and they will cause him to call you into his office to make sweet love to you all day long."

Emma glared at her friend. "Ruby, shhh!"

"Emma, please tell me that crush is not the reason you overwork yourself? If he hasn't noticed how amazing you are by now I don't know if ever will."

Emma turned away from her friend, she breathed as she contemplated Ruby's words.

"I have flowers for Emma Swan," A delivery guy spoke up.

Emma and Ruby's eyes met.

"That's me," Emma said.

The guy handed the flowers to Emma and she signed for them.

Emma's smile was giddy as she searched for a card. "There's no card."

"Wow, this is great. I spent the weekend in bed with a guy and you're the one who gets flowers. Nice," Ruby says playfully. "Ems, you don't really think they're from your dream guy. Do you?"

"Rubes, shhh," Emma scolded her, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to the conversation.

"Everyone knows except for Graham," Ruby said, annoyed.

Emma blinks rapidly as she blushes and is then attacked by a beautiful husky coming running in barking its excitement.

Emma hugged him as he slobbered all over her face. "Hi boy, I missed you too."

"Hunter, stop slobbering all over Emma," a voice came from behind.

Emma turned around to see her boss standing there with a warm smile on his face.

"Hey, so how was the climb?" Emma asked as she scratched behind Hunter's ears.

"It was good. I beat my old record," h said as he got closer.

"Wow! Isn't that the eighth time you climbed Mount Whitney?" she marveled.

He laughed, "How do you remember that?" He shook his head. "So what do we have for today?"

"Oh, let's see. We got these from marketing but they don't seem right."

He grinned. "I agree, they look-" He turned to Emma. "too put together."

"Like they're models," they said at the same time.

Emma added, "Oh, before I forget. The 92nd Street Y called to confirm that you'll be attending their benefit."

He nodded. "Will I need to make a speech?"

"Yeah, a few words about ecologically responsible business practices. Maybe something light and fun. I guess I will need a date for that. The only thing in my life you don't need to take care of. I don't know what I would do without you. Who would finish my sentences?"

Ruby was gagging behind them.

Emma glared at Ruby.

Graham entered his office only to exit right out. "Emma, did you leave me a breakfast burrito?"

Emma grinned. "I thought you would be hungry."

"Thank you, that's why I love you," he said as he reentered his office.

Emma whispered, "I love you too."

Ruby heard her friend's soft voice because of her wolf-like hearing, rolled her eyes and walked to Emma, and slapped her.

"Ouch, Ruby," Emma hissed. "I guess, I needed it."

"You think? Emma, do something about it. Just march in there and tell him how you feel," Ruby said, with a raised brow.

Emma just stared at her friend and ignored her suggestion. "I have a lot of work to do."

As everyone was leaving for the day, another soon to be bride, thanked Emma for her help planning her wedding.

"Okay, everybody. I hope to see you all at my engagement party tonight," Tamara said as she left the room.

Emma met Ruby at the front doors of the building to leave.

Ruby nudged Emma on the shoulder. "Hey, do you wanna come over to my place before the party? The guys from shipping are coming over my place for a drink and to have some fun."

Emma groaned, "I can't Ruby, I'm picking up Kathryn from the airport."

"Ems, I'm sorry but aren't you aware of the services taxis provide?"

"She's my baby sister and I have no problem picking her up. She needs me." Emma said with a smile on her face.

"Ems, she is an adult. I get that but she could get a ride to your place. You need to have some fun," Ruby insisted.

"Rubes, I'll be at the party. See you there," Emma said as she walked away.

tagging:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera  @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713   @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes  @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 4.6 K words (yeah yeah its more than usual)

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Warning: None, just some cursing

Author’s note: The next chapter is here and it is in Aisha’s POV!!

I decided to take part in @choicesseptemberchallenge20​ and the prompt is heaven which you will find in bold. 

TERMS THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

- IIT, Delhi: It’s one of the most premier institute for engineering in India. Delhi campus is said to be the best one in the country. The majority of the Indian CEO’s like Google, at least have a degree of IIT under their belt. 

-ku'uipo: Sweetheart

-'Ae: Yes

- Beta padhai par dhyaan do, dost aate jaate hai: Child, focus on your studies, friends come and go (TBH this is the one line which maximum desi kids have heard while growing up. That's why we can be uh.. awkward in making new friends lol)

-Main kya gadhi hoon: I'm such a dumbass (side note: gadhi (female) actually means donkey in hindi)

-Duniya main maine itna bada gaandu kabhi dekha nahi hai maine: I have not seen a bigger asshole than this guy. (yes I love swearing in hindi and what about it)

Forgive me if i made any errors

10 YEARS AGO- AISHA'S POV

My fingers ran against the spines of the book, my head tilted as I searched for a new book to dive into.

"Found anything of your liking, Aisha?" Tina, the librarian asked, her kind eyes twinkling. The old librarian loved me because I always helped around in sorting the books or with checkout. She suggested that if I were to help her, she would pay me so I decided why not?

But the lack of people coming to the library and their constant need to be fake on social media, flexing about their looks instead of textbooks often left the library empty which consequently resulted in free time.

Not that I minded.

In that free time I would either catch up on my study assignments or I would read the books recently added to the collection be it fiction, politics, history, astronomy... I wasn't picky about the genres.

But lately, my attention is being drawn to medical journals and textbooks. Yes, I'm 16 and that its definitely not people my age do but, to be the person balancing on the tightrope between life and death, the person who stands between existence and heaven... it's just a beautiful paradox that I can't help be captivated by the concept.

That and my strengths are biology and chemistry so its just an added plus. So, I definitely dream of being a world class doctor. 

Not to brag, but I know all the pulse points in the body and can name the bones of the skull in my sleep. My parents don't know that because... let's say there is a reason why I stay out of home for the majority of the day.

Are we again going to go over this? I am sick and tired of your fucking indiscipline. How I wish you could be more like Aditya... Mama's voice rung in my ears which made me close my eyes and take a shuddering breath.

Now is not the time to think about how awful you are. I repeated it in my head like a mantra, making it a point to message my brother and rant about the newest development.

Despite our parents trying to pit me against bhaiya, we were thick as thieves. We always had each other's backs and we're there to cheer each other up. Whenever our parents would scream at any of us, we would wait until they fell asleep to do something to lift the other person up. Midnight feasts, movie binge or just cuddling and imagining a future where we were away from them... That always managed to cheer me up and I knew bhaiya enjoyed it too.

I don't think we fought that much either because we were pretty close in age, with only three and a half years difference. We are pretty like-minded and scientifically inclined only he was interested in computer engineering while I was fascinated by the engineering of the human body.

It sucked that he is in IIT, Delhi while I'm so far away. We still manage to video call irrespective of the time zones but it is not the same as having the comfort of your older brother.

"I think I will take this." I handed her a battered copy of Gray's anatomy.

Tina just gave a knowing smile and I checked out. I headed to the nearby Fleming Beach Park, which is one of the most popular beaches in Maui. It was a five-minute walk from the library and the majority of the school population used to come here to hang out in the evenings.

Not that I was paying any attention to my oblivious classmates.

I headed to Kimo's Beach Shack and the owner gave me a gentle smile.

"What will it be, ku'uipo? The usual?" They asked as they wiped their hand on the dishtowel.

"'Ae." I smiled at them and they started making my favourite drink- Strawberry milkshake.

Precariously balancing my bag, the drink in one hand and my wrist-thick library book under the armpit of my other hand, I headed to the quieter side of the beach, away from the raucous.

I settle down under the shade of the palm trees and lean back against the rocks, taking in the view around me. I could see people from my school roaming around in their swimming suits either playing volleyball or surfing. As I sipped my milkshake (looking like an absolute loner, must I add) my eyes drifted to their happy faces as the joked around, laughing and having fun with their friends.

The two concepts that are so unfamiliar to me.

When I was back in India, I had a good group of friends who I would hang out with and play basketball with. It was good but shifting to a new place can strain those relationships. I do follow them on social media but seeing them enjoying and doing the things which we used to do together, it causes my heart to ache.

And I never really tried making friends here in Maui because a) The people here didn't consider me as one of them and b) My parents kept on saying it is temporary so there was no point focusing on that. Beta padhai par dhyaan do, dost aate jaate hai. My dad told me the one night I decided to express my excessive loneliness.

Thanks papa, real helpful. I shook my head, sipping my drink as I carefully opened my library book.

"You look sad." A childish voice spoke up breaking me out from my melancholy. I looked up and saw a four-year-old girl, her doe-like eyes staring down at me. She was wearing a pink summer dress and a cute bow hairband, taming her light brown hair.

"Huh?"

"You look sad... and lonely."

"I am okay, keiki... Don't worry."

The kid's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "How did you know my name?"

My eyes widened. In the two years in Hawaii, I had learnt a little bit of Hawaiian and spoke in bits and pieces. And I'm pretty sure keiki meant 'child' in Hawaiian so you could imagine the shock I felt when her name was the literal translation of child.

Who the fuck names their child... child?

"A lucky guess. It is nice to meet you Keiki." She moved her hand forward and Keiki's hand clutched my big hand with her small ones shaking it. Her hand was as big as my palm.

"What's your name?" Keikie asked as she sat down next to me.

"I'm Aisha. And, what are you doing here all alone?"

"I came with my elder brother but he and his friends were playing and he forgot his promise to build a sandcastle with me. So I just went walking." She huffed and crossed her short arms across her chest.

"Well, your brother would be worried about you, won't he?" I asked as her eyes scan the crowd, looking for a guy who remotely looks like my little companion.

"Well, I think that's a go-good puni-shi-ment for him." She struggled with the big word.

Aisha chuckled and soon Keiki's giggles joined hers.

"You remind me of the times when I used to bother my elder brother like that. He would get so mad."

"Where is he now?" She asked as her hands fisted the sand, her eyes moving to look at the brunette.

"Well, he is in university, in a completely different country."

"Do you miss him?"

"A lot." I sighed. Her puppy eyes met mine and she reached to hold my elbow. I smiled down at her, appreciating the gesture. She opened her mouth to ask me more questions when we heard a commotion.

"KEIKI!! There you are!" A shout wafted towards us, interrupting Keiki. I saw a tall guy jogging towards us and when my eyes landed on him, I immediately recognized him.

Bryce Lahela. The golden boy of my school, with girls and guys falling for him, left, right, centre. And right now, he was approaching me completely shirtless, his abs glistening in the evening sun. He had a Polynesian tattoo wrapping around his left bicep and ending a little below his collarbone which had me feeling... uh thirsty?

Cool, cool, cool, just act like yourself.

Yeah as if that's helped you deal with your awkwardness. Her conscience snarked at her.

“Shut up.” I muttered to myself. But, I wasn’t subtle enough and Bryce turned towards me, a weird look in his eyes.

Off to a great start, Aisha. Keep up the good work. I mentally groaned as I went back to reading my library book. 

"Thank god Keiki you are okay... I was so worried." He kneeled and hugged her, immediately forgetting my weird mumblings. I could feel the body heat emanating from him and suddenly, the anatomy of the kidney seemed more interesting than the hot guy beside me.

"Its okay Bryce. I was talking to my new friend." Keiki squeaked as she pulled away from the hug, two sets of hazel eyes staring at me now.

My eyes widened and I subconsciously reached to push my glasses up my nose, feeling the back of my neck heating up.

"Well, thank you so much." His voice reverberated and I swear I felt as if I would combust at the spot.

I looked up and shot a tiny smile. "No worries. Keiki here makes a nice study buddy."

I internally smacked my head. Study buddy? Really? Who uses that term now?

"Of course. Daddy says that I'm a beauty with brains." She said with a smug smile.

"Well, that's the one thing that I agree with dad," Bryce said as he settled down on her other side. The one feet distance enabled my mind to resume working.

I smiled down at Keiki and I found that Bryce was looking at me intently.

O... okay?

"Wait... You go to my school right? Lahainaluna High School?"

I nodded my head. I was about to introduce myself when his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He was snapping his fingers when his face lightened up with recognition. "You are Aisha, right? The newbie who joined us last year I was in your chemistry class last year."

The drink almost fell from my hand and I had to clutch it tighter to prevent myself from making a bigger mess. Clearing my throat I smiled nervously. "Yeah, that's me. You are Bryce, right? You are on the basketball team, right?"

"You know me?" He asked, shocked and I could hardly stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Duh?! You are Mr. Popular with really good looks and either people love you or hate you." I rambled off.

A small smile played on his lips. "And which category would you belong too? The love or hate category?"

I gave a shy smile. "Let's just say I'm on neutral grounds. Give me a good reason why I should like you."

"Because of my dashing looks? My tattoo?" He stretched his hands wide, gesturing towards himself. His hair caught the evening light, making it look like a halo. His hazel eyes had flecks of gold which threatened to drown me but before I could get lost in his sheer beauty, I shook my head to snap out of the daze of his presence and gave a mocking sigh.

"Aaaannnndd, he is just like other dumb jocks who is overly obsessed with his looks. Why are they all the same?"

Keiki put her hand sympathetically on my lap. "Don't worry Ash. I don't like Bryce when he talks about his looks either."

Bryce gasped. "Keiki you are breaking my heart."

"Good."

He reached for her and started tickling her which made her squeal with laughter. I had to get up so that the sand doesn't get on me, laughing at the sight. "Brryyccee!! Stopp!!"

"Not until you tell me I'm the best brother in the world."

Gasping for breath with tears in her eyes, Keiki breathed out in defeat. "Okay, okay. You are the best... brother in... the world."

Bryce pulled back a grin playing on his lips.

"Good."

My phone rang and I saw Mama's name flash on the screen which made me sigh.

"Your mom?" Bryce asked.

"Yep. should reach home before she turns into momzilla." We chuckled as I put my book into my bag.

"Bye Keiki, it was nice talking to you."

"Bye Ash. I like you. Can we make sandcastles next time?" I laughed and nodded, "Sure sweetie."

"Where is my goodbye?" Bryce pouted.

I rolled her eyes. "Bye Bryce. See you around."

And with that, I turned on her heel, and walked home, feeling much better.

PRESENT

Aisha felt like banging her head against the wall of the hospital out of utter embarrassment. In the span of 7 hours, she had pissed off her superior, met her ex from ten years ago, got stuck with a partner who hardly did anything and now managed to embarrass herself yet again in front of her role model.

Rookie... Are you hiding from me? The way Dr. Ramsey had an eyebrow raised, as if to question why she was hiding behind another intern and the appalled expression as she stumbled over her words were forever imprinted in her mind.

Not my brightest moment. Aisha recollected as she sighed at the way she stuttered and finally came up with an excuse.

I'm doing charts. She mocked herself as she shook her head. There was a table right next to me!! I could have come up with anything but that weak ass excuse.

And she had always dreamed that if she were to meet Bryce in real life, she would definitely insult the fuck out of him and then for the finishing stroke, she would probably punch him in his handsome face or kick him in the crown jewels.

But sadly, you seldom get the things you wish for.

I don't have time for this - Main kya gadhi hoon. She mentally groaned as she tried to shut off the part of her brain which was so hell-bent on making her feel humiliated.

She entered Annie's room to find her curled up in her bed, playing idly with her phone. She perked up a little when she saw Aisha, forcing a smile on her face.

"Oh. Hi, Dr. Khurrana."

"I just came by to see how you're feeling Annie."

Annie shrugged. "The same. The nurse came by and gave me some medication a little while ago.."

Opening Annie's chart she checked. "Yeah, antibiotics. It's too soon to see any improvement yet, but hopefully, we'll see some results soon."

Aisha was about to turn on her heel and leave when she heard Annie's small voice. "hey, could you stay awhile? It's... kinda lonely, being here all on my own."

Aisha gave an empathetic smile and reached to sit down on the chair near her bed. "Of course I can."

"Thank you once again doc."

"No, thank you. I haven't been off my feet since I got out of bed this morning. So Annie," Aisha leaned forward, "what are you studying?"

Annie blinked as if she was confused by the question. She took a couple of heavy breaths before attempting to answer.

"My master's is in... English... but my... my..." She swayed, her voice woozy as she tried to finish her sentence.

Aisha was on alert. "Annie, are you feeling okay?" She asked as she felt her pulse which was dropping before Annie passed out.

The heart rate monitor sounded a long, flat tone as her heart stopped.

"OH MY GOD!! Code blue, I need some help here!!" Aisha shouted, pressing the button near her bed.

"C'mon Annie stay with me." As Aisha stood on the nearby stool, performing CPR as she waited for the code team to arrive.

"Aisha?!" Jackie's shocked voice made her lookup.

"Jackie, where is the code team?"

"Room 502 called a code blue just before you. Just keep up with CPR. They'll get to you when they can!"

Aisha's eyes flashed. "That could be too late!! Help me, Jackie we are losing her fast."

"What were her symptoms?" Jackie asked as she snapped on the latex gloves and moved towards the bed.

"Symptoms were headache and nausea. Started during her vacation to Indonesia. Aurora and I did a blood workup and gave her cefpodoxime." Aisha opened the gown and Jackie's eyes narrowed in on the rash rapidly spreading on the side of the body.

"She is breaking in hives. She is in anaphylactic shock!"

"Now that I think about it, it may be because of her allergy to the antibiotics I gave... I had fucking asked her, dammit." Guilt made her chest heavy.

Jackie's face turned into a scowl as she wheeled the defibrillator cart closer. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is. This girl needs you now! We have to get her heart started ourselves."

Aisha nodded as she opened Annie's gown, baring her chest. She took a steadying breath. You have done this numerous times in AIIMS, you can do this.

Taking the paddles, she placed one paddle on the right side, beneath her collarbone and the other paddle on the left side, just beneath her armpit.

A small impressive smile made its way on Jackie's lips. "Good, now set the charge."

"Charging to 300 volts... Clear!"

Annie's body spasmed as the paddles discharged. Keeping them aside, Aisha resumed her compressions on Annie's chest.

C'mon Annie... You can do this... Come back to me. Aisha prayed.

The monitor beeped twice before Annie's heartbeat returned, accelerated but constant.

She let out a sigh of breath as she bent over the bed. Jackie clapped her back. "You are soooo lucky."

"Shut up. Now just give her an epinephrine injection and intubate while I maintain compression."

Jackie nodded her head and Aisha shot a grateful smile as she continued her compressions, her hands aching.

"What the hell is going on in here, Rookie?"

Yikes. Aisha winced at the tone and looked up to find Dr. Ramsey glaring from the doorway.

Time to own up, buddy. She sighed and spoke up. "Dr. Ramsey, she was allergic to the antibiotics I prescribed.

She couldn't gauge his reaction from so far away. "Well... at least you are taking responsibility. Sometimes patients don't know about their own allergies. That's why you always have to be cautious."

Jackie injected the epinephrine pen into Annie's tight. Still unconscious, Annie took a shuddering gasp of air.

"And now we intubate."

"Excellent work, Doctor...?"

A self-satisfied smile made its way on Jackie's face. "Varma."

"You were assigned to this case?"

"No, I was passing and I hear Dr. Khurrana calling a code blue."

A smile made its way on his face which shocked Aisha. This man voluntarily uses his facial muscles to smile? I wouldn't have known. "The patient's very lucky you were here. I'm not confident Dr. Khurrana could have handled this alone."

Now, wait a damn minute... Aisha clenched her jaw. This wasn't her first time she was getting insulted and yeah it was called for but it didn't help her feel any better either.

Jackie bit her lip and glanced at Aisha, which Aisha pointedly ignored. Watch her jump at the opportunity in 3...2...1

"Thank you. Just doing my job, Dr. Ramsey."

There it is.

Gulping down her annoyance, Aisha spoke up. "Dr. Varma really bailed me out." Aisha turned towards Jackie and nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Dr. Varma."

Jackie tried to read her, guilt swimming in her eyes.

She should be guilty, she took the credit of the save when I was the one calling the shots.

"...Anytime."

Fuck you. She narrowed her eyes slightly which made Jackie wince.

Luckily, Dr. Ramsey gave Jackie an out. "Dr. Varma, you should return to your patients."

A relieved smile made its way on her face. "Yes, Doctor." Throwing a backward glance towards Aisha, she walked out.

Dr. Ramsey swivelled towards Aisha, his face drawn tight with annoyance. "And you... you need to have a long hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here. It doesn't matter that it's your first day, or that you're still learning. Whether this girl lives or dies is on you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, Dr. Ramsey."

"You still have no idea what's wrong with her, and your first attempt nearly killed her. This is the real world. No room for mista--"

"Hi, Dr. Ramsey? Sorry to interrupt." A short Asian intern interrupted him and Aisha let out a small sigh of relief.

This guy would give my parents a run for their money. Why do I meet assholes everywhere I go?

"For the love of God, what now?"

"One of the nurses told me... that one of the other interns told them... that one of the doctors said..."

Dr. Ramsey certainly didn't enjoy beating around the bush. With a biting voice, sharp enough to make both Aisha and the intern to flinch, he commanded. "Skip to the point."

"Dr. Toussaint needs to see you urgently." She rushed.

Dr. Ramsey pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered something about 'interns' under his breath.

Straightening his coat, who gave pointedly glanced at Aisha. "Remember what I said, Rookie. Next time I see you, you'd better have solved the case." He turned on his feet and stormed out making the petite intern jump.  

Aisha stepped out into the hall with the intern, leaned against the wall and let out a sigh.

"Thank god for Dr. Toussaint. I swear if he wouldn't have called, Dr. Ramsey would have burst a vein or something."

The intern leaned against the wall adjacent to Aisha. "Yeah... Too bad he doesn't actually need to see Dr. Ramsey."

Aisha's eyes widened and she turned to stare at the other intern. "Huh?"

"I made it up! I could hear Ramsey chewing you out halfway down the hall, I figured you might need a save."

Oh my god, that is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me.

Aisha smiled brightly. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. But you could get in serious trouble if he realizes it."

She shrugged with a cheeky grin. "If. Besides, I'm tougher than I look. I'm Sienna by the way. Or Dr. Trinh. Whichever floats your boat."

"I'm Aisha Khurrana. Thanks again." Aisha's pager beeped and she looked down and sighed. "As fun as our little adventure was, I need to get back to work. Nice talking to you Sienna and once again, thanks for the save."

"Bye, hope you solve the case. Also, wait! I heard all the doctors hang out at this bar called Donahue's. I think, just down the street. Apparently, it's like the place to go and decompress after a long shift. Wanna come?"

"Sure!! If only I survive my first shift."

Sienna gave a brilliant smile. "Assuming you live through the next few hours, I'll meet you in the atrium after we clock out."

And Aisha got back to work, tending to her other patients but Annie's unconscious face kept on flashing behind her eyelids and Ramsey's words echoed in her head, like a broken tape recorder.

You need to have a long hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here.

She took a shuddering breath, doubt slipping into her mind, making her question everything she did. Every patient she treated and every prescription she signed.

Am I really cut out for this?

She tried to stop the rising anxiety but it still continued to swell in her like a balloon. Her throat began to dry up and it felt as if the weight on her chest didn't allow her to breathe.

Oh god, it's happening.

Feeling like she was on the verge of a breakdown, she ducked into a dark supply closet so nobody could see her while she tried to pull herself together.

It's okay. You worked your way through med school to get here. You are worthy. She chanted, taking in gulps of air.

It had hardly been a minute when the door suddenly opened and she heard footsteps.

Aisha internally groaned in annoyance. "Get in or get out. Just quit holding the door." She turned around and saw Bryce.

Oh fuck.

He nervously cleared his throat and walked towards her, maintaining his distance. "I feel like I'm interrupting something. Are... are you okay?"

Thanks to the dark, he couldn't see her tear rimmed eyes. Sighing loudly she untied her hair and ran her fingers through it, something she often did when she felt like her life was on the verge of falling apart.

"Nothing. I'm just looking for something." She tried to speak in a sharp tone but it just sounded like her voice was cracking.

She knew that Bryce had definitely heard how close she was to crying. Concern laced his voice. "Hey, I know when we met I was nothing but a dumb, self-obsessed jock but it's different now. I... I know you are not okay. Want to talk about it? Or vent?"

Goddamit Bryce. "Fine! I almost killed my first patient and I fucking swear to god I saw my career flash before my eyes. But it was lowkey my fault. I should have checked for allergies. But I tried fixing my error by calling the shots and Jackie helped me. BUT that's not it! Instead of being a humble person, Jackie swoops in and takes the credit of my save and Dr. Ramsey just goes on congratulating her as if she won some fucking AMA Award-"

"Aisha, breathe."

Taking a lungful of air she continued. "- And don't even get me started on Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey. Duniya main maine itna bada gaandu kabhi dekha nahi hai maine. What a dick!! He should get fucking laid to work off all his anger issues-"

Bryce snorted but didn't dare to interrupt Aisha. From the short time they dated, he knew better than to interrupt her mid-rant, it only managed to instigate her.

Another deep breathe. "- Boy does he manage to make me doubt myself in every step of the way like am I worthy of being here? I mean, I threw my heart and soul into med school because I wanted to be the best doctor out there but dammit I don't think I am ready."

When he made sure she wasn't going to launch into a new roast session, he spoke up. "Wow. You managed so many years of med school, but eight hours into the shift and you're surrendering? Didn't take you for a quitter."

Excuse me? Aisha's eyes narrowed.

"You don't know me anymore Bryce. The Aisha you dated is long gone and dead." She said in a low voice.

He shrugged. "True, but I know that you still have the fire in you to do what you love the most. C'mon, you have dealt with worse but yet you are here, standing tall. This is just temporary. I know you can pick yourself back up and break down all the obstacles in front of you."

She looked up at Bryce, only able to see the faint outline of his body. He still was the same- tall, well built and with really good hair. "No offence but... you used to be the guy who would wet himself during chemistry practicals, what happened to make you so...?" She gestured her hand at him, accidentally hitting his hand.

He hesitated. "As you said, things changed and you don't know me anymore Aisha."

"Fair enough."

The lack of space and the awkward silence just fueled the tension between them. She could feel his converse bumping into her shoes and the heated gaze on her face.

There used to be a time when Aisha and Bryce would talk for hours on end and they never ran out of topics to talk about. Be it something as lame as which is the superior flavour of ice cream or as deep as life after death.

Look at us now... Aisha thought to herself, gulping.

Her hair fell on her face as she averted her eyes, unable to come up with something to talk about. Bryce's hand involuntary reached to push back the rebel strands behind her ear, his hands caressing her cheek in the process. It felt as if electric sparks shot up her cheeks, making her blush.

Bryce opened his mouth. "Aisha-"

The door opened and she heard a feminine voice. "Bryce I saw you giving me the look so I decided to join you-"

A woman walked around the corner of the help and Aisha's jaw dropped. It was not because she was shocked that he was dating, he could screw the entire hospital for all she cared but, no... she was topless.

"Oh." The unknown woman placed her hands beside her.

"Sam-" Bryce began and Aisha spoke up at the same time. "I was just-"

The confusion was interrupted again when the closet door opened again and a senior resident stood before them, aghast. "What is going on over here?"

"Oh fuck." The expletive spilt from Aisha's lips.

The topless woman, whose name apparently was Sam, quipped in. "Yeah what she said."

Well, this is totally not awkward.

AUTHOR”S NOTE #2:

Number one, yeah I dragged PB a bit in regards to Keiki’s name.. PB do your research challenge 🙄

Number two, okay so about the tattoo part, me and @bratzlahela​ were just talking about Bryce having Polynesian tattoos based on this post and I had to integrate it in my series lol

This is something I imagined 🤭

Number 3, Also I tried to change up the scene a bit with Jackie because tbh, Aisha is pretty fucking smart and she won’t be like “Boo-hoo. I don’t know anything” And about the part where she spoke about using the defibrillator numerous times in AIIMS, In India the medical education is a little more hands-on and focuses more on clinical practice rather than theory. Medical students from first year start doing ward duty and help around in the hospitals taking patient history, etc. Also, they have a mandatory year of internship without which you don’t get your license.  

Number 4, So about that supply closet scene, how many of y’all thought would you get a make out sesh?

If yes, here is your clown wig 🤡

Number 5, AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT TODDLER KEIKI I SWEAR I WAS JUST GUSHING THE ENTIRE TIME 🥺

Lastly, IT PHYSICALLY HURT ME TO ROAST ETHAN LIKE IM SO SORRY SWEETIE 😭🥺🤧

This was a pretty long author’s note heheheh

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[moth-song-archives]

The Insatiable Flow of Time (1/8)

I remembered that I can make posts here too huh! Anyways, I wrote a post-MAG200 fic <3

I’ll reblog it again with the link to ao3 if you’d prefer reading it there :D

Rating: Teens and Up Archive Warnings: Choose Not To Use Categories: F/F Relationships: Georgie/Melanie, Georgie & Jon, Jonmartin (mentioned) Characters: Georgie Barker, Melanie King, Jonathan Sims, the Admiral, Basira Hussain (mentioned), Rosie Zampano (mentioned), Martin Blackwood (mentioned)

Additional tags: Diary/Journal × post mag200 × Post-Canon × Canon Compliant × Rated for swearing and me doing my best to write a fitting epilogue for my most fave story of all time × Bittersweet × Hurt/Comfort × Grief/Mourning × Gentle-Sad-Soft × Fluff × Non-Sexual Intimacy × Tenderness × Generally Hopeful Ending × Ambiguous/Open Ending × Catharsis × You know how TMA is a tragedy? ... yeah × Hope Punk × dealing with the fallout of surviving a literal apocalypse × Moving on and letting go × Trans Georgie Barker × Nonbinary Melanie King × Melanie uses any pronouns but needs to (re)discover this first × and is then mainly referred to with they/them pronouns for diary-simplicity × Melanie is ace in my heart ♡ × Jon is also enby but it only gets referred to in passing × Georgie has a Type™ × Character Study × i love them all so much × Nonbinary aspec author × it's very hope punk and somft BUT ALSO VERY SAD × in like a cathartic way × because i like causing pain :') × pre-written and updates every 2-3 days

I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

As the world tries to piece itself back together, Georgie grapples with her past, her present, and her future by keeping a diary. She also keeps having this strange, recurring dream that involves Jon. Post MAG200.

Finished at ~12k, will upload over the next couple of days <3

Day 3 - Evening

Melanie is sleeping. Basira is also sleeping, on the sofa in the living-room. She doesn’t really know what to do with herself, these days, so for now she’s staying with us.

I am not sleeping. I’m so far beyond tired that I can’t sleep anymore. It’s been... how long? More than a day, certainly. I’m at the kitchen table and the night outside is darker than any I’ve ever seen. There are no street lights and a million more stars than I could’ve ever imagined. I wish Melanie could see them too :(

Back before everything in my life went wrong, I used to be really good at this. I think I got my first diary when I was... seven, maybe eight? I used to be obsessed with it. I guess I stopped writing in college, after the incident, because it felt... wrong? Like I was lying to myself, trying to fabricate emotions that just weren’t there, keeping up with things that no longer seemed important or note-worthy. Mainly, I couldn’t make myself care about anyone or anything anymore.

I think I want to find that person again, now that it’s over. Try and… move on? And Melanie encouraged me :) I guess that’s the main reason. I found this notebook in one of the domains when we were rescuing people. I don’t know what I originally wanted to do with it, but I did end up forgetting about it until I went through my bag again today. It smells like fire and is a bit singed in places, but I kind of like that? I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. ...that sounds very pretentious, but this is just for me, so...

And I like that it’s just cheap paper scribbled on with a shitty biro. Maybe I’ll just burn it when all the thoughts are on the paper instead of in my head. When I can sleep again. And the prize for the most dramatic way of closure goes to Georgie Barker! But yeah. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

But I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel different, now that they’re gone? The entities, I mean, though Jon and Martin seem to be gone, too.

I keep remembering Martin’s expression when he told us to go early, how upset he was.

Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. As long as I’ve known Jon, he’s always done what he thought best. It used to drive me up the walls, but I also admired it, I think? I never would’ve told him that, but… Well. He’s gone now.

It’s over, all of it.

And I still can’t sleep.

And Melanie is still blind, and I still feel empty, and my fear still hasn’t come back. Everyone who died is still dead, and the trauma is still there. There were angry mobs in the streets, and people got killed.

I can’t quite believe that Jon and Martin went with them. I can’t believe they left us behind to explain the entire mess.

 We’re back in our old flat. It’s so weird to be back home. Everything looks the same, as though no time passed at all. Nobody knows what date it is. How long were we caught in there?

Outside, it feels like spring. There are birds everywhere, singing their hearts out. Sounds like more birds than there used to be, too. The trees are leafless and dead-looking, but Basira pointed out that they’re getting there... and it feels like spring.

I haven’t slept properly in 3 days because the questions keep me awake. It’s not that I’m worrying, really, just… thinking? I think I could sleep better if the worry had come back, but it hasn’t.

As far as we can tell, all modern devices are broken, too. Computers and phones and such, digital cameras, generators... we don’t even know what the rest of the world looks like. I hadn’t realised how much gets controlled by computers these days, we don’t even have central heating or water access in our flat. Rumours and news are spreading person-to-person, like in the Olden Days. We only have emergency systems that were installed in case of nation-wide blackout. I guess I’m glad we don’t actually have a blackout, we just need to get the computers back to work. (If I understood it correctly.)

Melanie thinks it’ll all come back to life in a few more days. I certainly hope so. I also hope I’ll stop feeling like this. Or rather, not feeling like anything. It’s so strange. Like in the first days after the incident, when I just felt numb?

They’re gone! I want to feel like a person again! What if I never get myself back?

 They’re actually gone.

 What will we do with our lives now? Basira isn’t the only one who feels uprooted. I think the whole world feels like that right now.

I hope my computer comes back soon. I miss music, and making things. My photos, all those memories.

I don’t want to lose all of that. I want to start fresh, but not without records of the past.

…I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, specifically. Records, and futures.

What the Ghost is done, right? There’s no fun in creepy ghost stories if you’ve been through an actual, living nightmare.

I think I want to start new with that, too. When everything works again, that is.

New world, new future, new podcast. I like that. I think. Make a record of what happened through eyewitness accounts? Or is that too similar to the Statements… then again, it’ll be more like interviews. And I think we shouldn’t forget.

We owe them that much.

I’ll have to talk it over with Melanie tomorrow. Maybe.

We’ll see.

God, I think maybe… maybe I can actually try and sleep tonight. Writing does seem to help.

 Note to self: thank Laverne for suggesting it. (Also for being there for Melanie. And listening to us. And stopping with that culty nonsense. She’s the only one we found so far, but she actually listened to us. Strange to think that in this world, I have to be grateful for someone not worshipping me for some dumb reason?!)

   Day 4 - Morning

So. Three things.

1) I did manage to fall asleep after all! I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac, especially after the incident, so actually getting some proper rest felt really good.

2) I somehow woke up right as the sun went up! I think I’ve never seen a dawn this beautiful? I watched it from the bedroom window and I’ll definitely describe it to her in detail when she wakes up! The Admiral was sleeping on our pillow, right next to her head, snuggled up against the back of her neck and shoulder... it was so cute. I can’t believe my phone and camera still don’t work! Melanie has that old polaroid camera somewhere but we haven’t found it yet, and I wish my art skills were any better. I did draw a sketch of the two of them though. I’ll cherish it forever, no matter how shitty it is :’)

After everything that happened, the Admiral is still a bit weird around us. He started out really aggressive, calmed down a bit, and now… now he’s weirdly skittish? Meows a lot. Keeps walking around the flat. The only thing that even remotely returns him to how he used to be is tuna. It’s weird.

But seeing him like that, with Melanie? I love him so much.

I think he’ll be okay.

But before I forget, and why I actually got out the diary at this ungodly hour instead of trying to go back to sleep now that the sun is up…

3) I had a really nice dream. And... I don’t even know. I think I want to try and hold onto the feeling? I don’t think I’ve felt that… deeply… in a long while. Maybe the last time was before all this, when we decided to move in together. Before all of this happened.

For a moment, I felt like I was whole again :’)

It didn’t even have Melanie in it, which is very rude tbh. I think Jon was there? The Admiral, too. We were just chilling on the sofa, watching netflix I think... It felt so... mundane??? Casual, somehow??? Like it was normal to feel like that and I just... I want THAT. I want to feel like that again, instead of this weird… blank nothingness? I want that all the time, not just when I’m riding a high or feeling so terrible that it pierces through.

I don’t know if that makes sense but this is just for me anyway so I suppose it doesn’t have to.

 I think I should feel bad about Jon being gone, but I still don’t even feel relief at it being over. Just this vague numbness.

I hate it so much, except I don’t, actually, I just know that I should?

Melanie keeps saying that I need a therapist but if we’re being honest here, I guess I need one the least? The whole goddamn world needs therapy right now. Including the therapists. And I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now.

I guess I keep hoping it’ll just go away somehow.

 Anyways. Enough introspection, I’m going back to bed. I hope I don’t wake them! :)

  Day 4 - Evening

 It’s night now, the sun went down hours ago. We have a bunch of candles, but I’m trying to use them sparingly, so I just have one lit. I put a glass of water next to the candle so now the light gets magnified a bit more. It’s a weird atmosphere, but I kinda like it? Feels… cozy! :)

I’m still not over how everything looks the same, but nothing works like it did before, and there’s this… burden? This collective trauma everyone went through. It feels so surreal. So many things are still broken… it’s like we woke from a collective nightmare, but pieces of it still remain, floating around.

And we just sent it away with the tapes. I really hope those other worlds are doing better than us, but what else could we have done? I… try not to think about it. I know I should, but I still can’t really bring myself to care, or even feel overly guilty for that? …

 Melanie fell asleep with her head in my lap half an hour ago. I was reading to her. She says she loves the sound of my voice, so I’ve started doing that in the evenings. (I still love that we had separate crushes from a distance on each other for ages because of youtube and WTG. We’ve been talking about that a lot, too.)

She still has nightmares, but apparently she’s also been having good dreams, and she looks so peaceful right now. The last few days have been a lot, but in comparison to before, and even before then…

It’s over. We made it out. We get to have a future together. I still can’t quite believe it. :)

 I guess I’m writing again (despite already having done so in the morning) because it somehow helped yesterday and I’m hoping to replicate that. And I have a lot to think about. It’s been a long day.

Basira is still out there, helping out where she can. I think she feels guilty. Melanie says she doesn’t because there was no other choice, but I know her, and I know that she’s lying.

There’s always another choice. We just say that to make it easier to bear.

I hope she knows she can come talk to me when she feels ready to tackle it.

I hope I ever feel able to tackle it myself. No. I will talk to her when I’m ready.

We did talk a bit about things, of course. Melanie doesn’t really remember her dreams, most of the time, but apparently she’s been alternating between horrifying nightmares and a really nice, recurring one that sometimes happens after the nightmares. She doesn’t really remember much of it, but she mentioned it after I told her about the Jon dream. Not what it was about, just… in general.

From the way she talked about it, I think her dad might have been in it? I’m actually not sure, but the way she smiled…

She has that little smile on her lips again, even now, dreaming. The soft one she gets when she talks about good things. About him.

About me.

(I still can’t believe she chose me. How impossibly lucky? How did I ever deserve her? But then, it’s not about that, is it? She is mine, and I am hers, and… life will be good. I know it will be.)

 She’s been smiling a lot more, these past few days.