#i swear this is the last ill post about this until i actually properly sit and write it

[ghost-proofbaby]

okay no but bbf!perv!eddie unable to stop his hand from lingering a liiiitttle too long on your skin after he slaps the tattoo. obv he cant do anything too rough (although he would give anything to just be able to dig his fingers in to the soft skin there), but that's almost WORSE because instead you're aware of every one of his fingers on your overly sensitive skin, the warmth of his palm against your stinging ass, both soothing and burning at the same time

he doesn't even realise he's doing it, and you peek over your shoulder and nearly get a jumpscare at just how intense he looks - eyes fixed on where he's touching you, the boy is practically vibrating from holding himself back

HELPPPPPP

he should probably pull away.

he knows he should. he’s well aware his touch has long out-lingered its welcome on your warm skin. but he can’t. he tells his hand to drop, to come back to him, to just fall anywhere else but your ass — all his fingers do in response are curl into the flesh, feeling the soft muscle beneath his joints and his breath catch painfully between his ribs.

all he can do is squeeze softly and stare at where his skin is meeting yours. all he can do is continue to take abnormally deep breaths, teetering on the verge of gasping as his stare starts to burn hotter than where he’d slapped your skin.

“e-eddie?”

you’re all nervous laughter and wide eyes, and it almost makes it worse when you stutter out his name. somewhere between a plea and a sigh, falling between the raveens of asking him to stop touching you and begging him to never stop.

“sorry,” he whispers, but his hand doesn’t move.

“can you…” can you move your hand? can you stop driving me insane? can you stop looking at me like some helpless prey and igniting this damned warmth in my belly that is 10 seconds from turning this entire friendship to ash? “can you do it again?”

eddie munson’s heart officially stops. the last and hardest beat of it echoes in his silent chest and he’s looking up at you wildly, stunned, quietly. for the first time since he’s met you, his tongue has become a foreign and heavy object not fit for his instruction.

and you take his silence as a no. you take his silence as you pushing too far and projecting one too many fantasie onto him for a final time. you take his lack of response as a you just fucked everything up, idiot.

“i’m- fuck, i’m sorry,” you start, “forget i ask-“

“again?”

his hand finally moves, and it’s trailing down now, fingers dancing along the back of your thigh in unsure movements. not ready to no longer feel you. not ready to leave the moment.

piqued interest, palpable curiosity, buzzing eagerness — there’s not one sliver of disgust in his tone.

it’s the only reason you’re brave enough to wear a fragile smile as you nod, cheek lowering to the pillow as you say it more surely this time, “again.”

this time, the slap is more deliberate.

and this time, it lands where you want it. between the apex of your thighs, stinging in a way far more pleasurable than before, making you cry out a bit more surely this time.

maybe it’s his sudden smirk. maybe it’s his dark eyes. or maybe it’s that goddamn tent in his pants and the wet spot he can’t hide from you.

yeah. he’ll do it again. he’ll do it as many times as you ask for it, because this time, he gets it.

you both get it.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 687

1,834 - Words

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours please let me know, so I can give you credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2020

Warnings - A little swearing.

Notes - None

----

"I'm telling you Charlie you're going to love her." Phil gushed for the millionth time. "So you say." Charlie muttered still doodling in his sketch book, within the prisons art room. "She's a brilliant artist, a local celebrity really." Phil smiled to himself, before his eyes shot to the opening door of the room. "Phil." (Y/n) smiled at the man awaiting her at the bottom of the stairs, her heels clicking noisily as she descended said stairs. "(Y/n) its so lovely to see you." Phil chirped while pulling her into a friendly hug. "I was looking over those drawings you sent me." (Y/n) grinned from ear to ear. "I can't wait to meet the man behind the pen." She added before handing the drawings back to Phil. "Of course of course, he's right here. Charlie mate this is (Y/n)." Phil ushered Charlie over who was sitting quietly observing the two. "We've been waiting here for a little while now, eager for your arrival." Phil added as Charlie approached. "So you're Charlie Bronson? I've heard so much about you, I must say you are a man of reputation." (Y/n) mused while shaking his hand. "Yeah that's me." Charlie sighed under his breath, sounding almost bored. "I've looked over some of your work, and its quite charming really." (Y/n) said as she pointed to the drawings in Phil's hands. "Your style actually reminds me of an uncle of mine, from my father's side. Ironically enough he also spent some time in prison years ago." She continued, her complements fueling Charlie's ego. "Every year I come here in search of an apprentice, sometimes they remain my apprentice for a few years, like my last apprentice did. Sadly however he got on the wrong side of a local here, and got himself killed." (Y/n) wet her lips allowing Charlie a moment to process her words. "Phil here suggested that I take you under my wing, if you're interested of course." She smiled softly. "I don't think the Gov will allow me the privilege." Charlie pointed out, knowing the man hatted him. "Well just between us, he's had quite the crush on me since I started doing this whole apprenticeship thing. I'm confident I can convince him by simply batting my lashes at him." (Y/n) winked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Is that so?" Charlie smirked a little, finding her rather amusing. "But only if you're interested of course, I'd rather avoid the man if I can. Makes my skin crawl that one." She frowned a little in disgust at the thought of the man. "Alright, what dose this internship entail?" Charlie asked while leaning against the table to his right. "Well first off, I'll be teaching you how to hone your skills as an artist, and help you to find your true potential, to the best of my abilities. I would be visiting you daily, for however long I see fit. Maybe even if you get yourself in trouble, seeings how the old creep can't seem to say no to me." She shrugged a little at the last comment. "Alright I'm in." Charlie nodded his head once, before going back to his original seat. "Okay I'll go see what I can do about the Governor." (Y/n) waved goodbye to Phil before leaving the room. "See I knew you'd like her." Phil smiled while Charlie simply grunted at him.

----

The following day Charlie sat across from the Governor, in his little office. "I don't know how, but you've caught the interest of Miss (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and she wishes to take you as her new apprentice. I have granted her permission to due so, but I'm warning you now Charlie, if you so much as hurt a hair on her head, I'll have you locked in solitary for the rest of your stay here." The older man hissed, his threat only making Charlie smile. "What kind ov a man do you think I am, eh?" Charlie taunted, making the Governor roll his eyes. "I know exactly what kind of a man you are Charlie." The Governor sighed before waving him off. "She'll be here later today, and every day after until you mess up." He added as Charlie was being escorted out of his office.

----

(Y/n) did in fact come back, just a few hours later. Meeting with Charlie in his cell of all places. "Right let's get to it yeah?" She shrugged her bag off of her shoulder and placed it on the foot of his bed, where she rummaged through it a moment later. "Ah here we are." She smiled as she pulled out the new materials she had brought with her. "These are for you." She handed them to Charlie, who slowly looked over everything she gave him. "I'd like to watch you draw if that's alright, I want to observe your process, and techniques." (Y/n) explained, smiling when Charlie sat at his desk. "You can watch, just try not to talk to much. Phil gets real annoying after awhile." Charlie glanced up at her as he began settling everything up. "Of course." She bowed her head a little, respecting his wishes.

As Charlie drew (Y/n) peered over his shoulder, fascinated by his technique, and rather pleased with his natural skills. "How's that?" Charlie leaned back in his chair, looking up at (Y/n), who grinned at him. "It's fantastic, tell me what does this mean to you?" She asked while leaning in a little closer observing the finer details, unknowingly pressing her breasts against Charlie's shoulder. "What?" He exhaled through his nose noisily, almost stunned by the sudden contact. "What does this all mean to you? If anything at all." (Y/n) asked while pulling away so she could properly look at his face. "It's just some of the things I felt while at the asylum." He cleared his throat, having calmed his nerves when she pulled away from him. "Interesting." (Y/n) hummed before going back to her bag. "I want you to try something for me Charlie." She muttered as she unfolded the large piece of canvas paper, she had pulled from her bag. "I want you to try copying this drawing, but in your own style." She explained before using her chewing gum to stick the paper to the wall above his desk. "What is it exactly?" He asked eyeing the strange looking drawing before him. "I'm not entirely sure yet, I drew this yesterday after I left here, I got some inspiration." She tilted her head a little, looking at her work. "Get some inspiration from me did ya?" Charlie teased. "I did actually, while I drew this I replayed our conversation together, remembering the way you held yourself, your facial expressions, mood, all of it really... And this is the product of that." (Y/n) explained, once again fueling Charlie's ego. "Is it a good thing or a bad thing?" He asked while looking from her to the drawing, finding it almost hypnotizing. "Personally I believe it's a good thing, but I guess like most art, it is what you make of it as the viewer." She looked back to Charlie, who seemed pretty pleased with her answer. "Right, well this might take a little while." He stated while scooting his chair in. "Take however long you need." (Y/n) hummed softly while clasping her hands behind her back. "You're welcome to sit on the bed if ya like." Charlie added before picking up his pencil. "Thank you Charlie." (Y/n) smiled before delicately setting on the edge of the mattress, trying to avoid making to much noise.

----

For a little over two months now, (Y/n) has been working with Charlie. And it wasn't until today that he acted out, and got himself into trouble. But as she promised she convinced the Governor to allow her to still visit him. While Charlie sat in his cell, blood oozing a little from the gash on his head, he counted the seconds it took for (Y/n) to reach his cell. Her heels giving her away the second she stepped into his cellblock, clicking away as she approached. "I don't know why you bother." The guard opening Charlie's cell hissed at (Y/n), who in turn held her head up a little higher while glaring at the overweight man. "That's none of your concern." She spat back as the door opened, making Charlie smile the best he could with the muzzle they put on him.

"Christ." She muttered under her breath in surprise, completely stunned at the sight of him all bloody and bound. "Aye love." Charlie murmured the best he could, both blood and drool running down his chin. "What did they do to you?" She frowned before softly sitting on her knees across from him on the floor. "You'll dirty your dress." He almost frowned at the sight of his blood on the floor, as it began seeping into the soft fabric of her skirt. "I don't give a damn about the dress." She waved his comment off, more worried about him. "Besides you're more important to me than some old dress." She leaned forward dropping her voice so only Charlie could hear her. "I'm going to remove these wretched things, but you must remain quiet, otherwise we'll both be in trouble." She waited for Charlie to nod his head in agreement before reaching for the strap on the muzzle. "There." She sighed softly as she pulled the muzzle away from his face. "Alright could you turn for me?" She asked planning on removing the straight jacket. "Nah leave it I'm alright, besides if someone decides to barge in 'ere, you won't get in as much trouble for removing just the muzzle." Charlie pointed out making (Y/n) bite her lip softly. "Good point." She nodded her head agreeing with him.

"So tell me Charlie, what happened?" (Y/n) asked as she removed a handkerchief from her handbag, slowly wiping away some of the blood from his face. "One of the guards took away that drawing you hung on my wall, the one you gave me the first day we worked together, cunt tore it up while talking ill about you. I wasn't gonna stand for it, so I beat the fucker bloody." Charlie observed her face, watching her closely as she frowned at his words. "Those bastards can't just let things be can they, always gotta rattle the cage, and punish those that bite back." She murmured while cleaning the last of the blood away the best she could. "Don't worry. You ever get outta here, I'll give you as many drawings as you'd like, then no one can ever take them from you again." (Y/n) smiled softly at Charlie, who began mulling over her words. Did he want to get out? Or did he still wish to stay?

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 16--Amalia

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  The child's birth brings an unexpected ally.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Even returned a few moments later with a large glass of water and, of all things, a glass of wine. “It’s… traditional,” he told Ienzo. “Honeyed wine.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to drink, if I’m to feed her,” Ienzo said.

“She’s got enough magic in her right now to metabolize what little alcohol would reach her.”

“Our powerful ass baby,” Demyx said.

Even exhaled. “Quite.”

“And of the others?” Ienzo gulped down the water nearly in one swallow. The wine was sweet and made him warm. “The magic, it--”

“Don’t worry about them. Focus on your daughter and rest. I’m sure you’d like to clean up--and we should do something about your bed. Not to mention weigh and measure her."

Ienzo raised an eyebrow. “I can simply shower ?”

“You’re already healing. Surely you must feel it.”

"...If you're sure."

Even helped him out of bed and up the stairs. He felt odd… empty, the separation too final. "You're alright?" He asked.

"I think I may be in shock."

"Startlingly fast." Even sighed. "I'll get you some clean things to change into. Take your time."

Ienzo… took a shower.

It was the first time he'd seen his body postpartum. His stomach was still somewhat distended, but already, he suspected, slimming to what it would be with the weight he'd gained with the pregnancy. He was sweaty, and there was a burst blood vessel in his right eye that was healing too. Ienzo considered himself. “I had a baby,” he said out loud, just to hear it, and bit his lip. He laughed a little. He was a parent. Downstairs, with his soulmate, was their living daughter, that had been in his body.

The hot water should not have felt as good as it did, and he moaned out loud. He washed himself clean. Just inside the door, Even had left pajamas and a thick menstrual pad. Ienzo sighed; he knew this was part of it. He dressed and returned downstairs, wincing on the steps. Demyx was still singing softly. The sheets on Ienzo's bed had been changed. Ienzo was surprised at the intensity with which he wanted to hold her, his breasts aching. "That may have been the best shower I've ever taken."

"Better?"

"Much."

"She's three and a half kilos exactly," Demyx said proudly. "Fifty-three centimeters. Someone ran out and got diapers."

Ienzo sat back down gingerly. The baby began to snuffle, and then cry; the aching worsened. "I think she's hungry. Give her to me." He unbuttoned his top and brought her to his chest. She latched on almost instantly. Ienzo shuddered as the milk began to flow.

"Does that hurt?" Demyx asked.

Ienzo sighed. "Would you believe me if I said it feels good?"

"I'm just surprised you wanted to do it this way."

"It's apparently...very good for us in particular."

"The magic?"

"...Yes. I'm… ambivalent to the actual functions of my body. I'm more resentful of the expectations forced onto them." The baby ate eagerly. "I can… make concessions for this."

"I just… can't believe it." Demyx stroked her head. "But at the same time… it feels like she's always been here."

"I'm still in shock, honestly." She seemed to have finished, falling back to sleep against Ienzo's chest. "In your… dream. Did she have a name?"

"No. You?"

"...No." He considered her. "We're… parents, Demyx."

He kissed him. "We are. You need rest, Ienzo. You must be exhausted. You had a baby. "

"Yes… I… well."

Demyx settled down next to him and pulled up the covers. "I'll wake you if she gets hungry." He blew out the candle and took off his shirt, holding their daughter against his chest. “What? Isn’t skin-to-skin good?”

“It… is.” He yawned.

“Ienzo, please sleep.”

He did; he couldn’t help it. The birth exhausted him and he slept so heavily there was just darkness until he heard the baby cry. Milk beaded along his nipples. He stirred groggily; in the semidarkness he could just barely see Demyx and Even, heard their soft voices.

“...Passed out immediately.”

“You’d be tired too, if it were you.”

The crying continued. He tried to sit up, his core protesting. “Is everything okay?”

“Your daughter just wants milk. I wanted to make sure she was feeding properly.” Even eased the warm little bundle in his arms, and like last time she started suckling instantly.

Ienzo drifted in and out as she fed, not helped by the gentle pleasure of it; distinctly nonsexual, but enjoyable nonetheless. It was very much soothing. He burped her when Even told him to, half asleep.

“Never seen him so out of it… it was weird.”

“...He’ll be back to himself once he’s gotten some rest,” Even said softly. “Once the spell wears off--” When the baby was done she was taken away, and he felt a wave of coldness wash over him, almost--but not quite--bringing him fully to consciousness. Between the summer heat and the exertion it actually felt quite nice. Everything felt nice right now, the sheets, the feeding, the memory of his baby in his arms.

“What--” Ienzo mumbled.

“Just checking on you, child. Relax.”

He’d just fallen back deeply into sleep when he heard the door.

Adrenaline woke his magic, still potent post-birth, bringing him back into consciousness.

Someone had left the lamp on. Demyx was unconscious next to him, deeply asleep, their squish-faced baby against his bare chest. Had Even slammed the door too hard by accident? He sat up and reached over to stroke her head once. He was again thirsty; he may as well get some water while he was awake.

Then he saw the crumpled mass on the floor. Even was unconscious as well, his blond hair in a pool around his face. Ienzo nearly screamed and clapped a hand over his own mouth. He forced himself to his feet and lurched over to Even, checked his pulse. He was just… asleep. But Even would not make the decision to sleep on the floor, not when there were chairs in this room.

And the door had slammed…

Someone was in the house.

Slowly, he crept towards the stairs. He was sore, despite the magic healing him; he winced as he climbed the stairs. The back door had been left open. Ienzo followed. The brightness of wards was obvious, but eerily, there was no one there; no one, of course, aside from the head of glowing blue hair. Ienzo opened his mouth--

“Don’t scream,” Saïx said. “Peace, your highness. Peace.”

Ienzo’s mind was spinning. Scary man, he remembered from the Forecast. Friend coming to you.  

He looked a little worse for the wear; his hair mussed, his face bruised, his suit torn. He clutched his side; blood oozed through his fingers.

“What do you want, Saïx?” he asked, coldly.

“I felt your… magic. It seems congratulations are in order.”

Ienzo let the magic hum along his skin. “You cast a spell on a newborn baby,” he spat. “I should rip you limb from limb. I can .”

He held up both his hands. “Of that I have no doubt. I promise you I did nothing to the child. I… surrender myself to you. I come in peace. I know you have no reason to believe me.”

“What do you want?” he asked again. “To get through the wards… what have you done to my friends?”

“Your friends are safe. They’re simply asleep. I would like to talk to you… your highness.”

Ienzo realized he didn’t know his name. He intended on keeping it that way. “About what?”

“I… I don’t wish this to be my legacy,” he began. Ienzo could see his glowing gold eyes. “I no longer wish… to be his puppet. More than anything… I’m sick of the darkness. I want to be whole again.”

His aura told him that Saïx was telling what he believed to be the truth. “But why now?”

“I’ve been trying to contact you for months. Even before… all this.”

Ienzo thought of the night at the club… “Then why did you attack us when we fled the other city?”

“I could not yet resist what had been done to me… but I… learned. Please. I wish to help you. Xehanort is a snake swallowing his own tail,” Saïx spat. “He will destroy us with the darkness… and the darkness will destroy him. I… thought darkness was power. But look at me.” He laughed darkly. “Where did it get me?”

"Why should I believe you?"

"You can sense I'm telling the truth. I know."

"Saïx--"

"My name is Isa."

"Then why--"

"He makes us take on new names. Anagrams them."

"Why would you betray him?"

He smiled tiredly. "I'd rather die for a good cause than die senselessly."

Ienzo took a tentative step forward. "Are you… wounded?" If he were hurt, Ienzo definitely had the upper hand, despite being immediately postpartum.

"He does not like… defectors." He chuckled softly. "But I was not followed, if that's what you were wondering."

Ienzo watched him bleed against the grass. "I can heal you."

"I'm aware."

"If I do--swear to me you will cause no harm."

"I swear."

He meant it. Ienzo exhaled. "Come on, then."

Isa followed him back into the living room. Ienzo told him to lie down; he did so. He held his hands over Isa. The wound was rather grave; if not for Ienzo he would likely have bled out. This, believe it or not, was good; saving his life meant Isa would be indebted to him, and he seemed the kind to respect that. He healed it quickly. "Sleep," Ienzo whispered; Isa slipped immediately into unconsciousness. He dragged him over to the couch and bound him magically. He was beginning to cramp by then, his exhaustion becoming overwhelming.

He found Aeleus unconscious near Dilan at the property line; he woke them both with a lucidity spell. "Ienzo," Aeleus gasped. "Where--oh--I am so sorry. What happened?"

"You were hit with a particularly potent Sleep spell," he explained. "There is a… situation, in the living room."

Aeleus grasped his shoulders. "You're alright? The child is alright?"

"She and Demyx are sound asleep."

Dilan dusted himself off. "A little girl?"

"Yes."

He smiled a little. "To think you'd be a parent before any of us."

"...Quite."

"What is this situation?" Aeleus asked.

Ienzo explained. "He seemed to believe what he said--moreover, he owes me now. Do with him what you will--but do not harm him."

Dilan scowled. "The fool. Ienzo, I know you are exhausted--perhaps you might be--"

"Wrong?" He raised an eyebrow. "My magic is still powerful from the birth. I trust it."

Aeleus sighed. "Then we should trust him. Go rest, child. We'll take it from here."

This handled, Ienzo hobbled back downstairs. Demyx and the baby were still asleep, and he soon followed.

---

Ienzo woke every few hours to his daughter's cries; he fed her twice and Demyx changed her. There was still warmth in his body, healing him from the birth; Ienzo kept sleeping. He was so tired, and the feedings lulled him too. He dipped in and out for an unknown amount of time, woken only by the baby being pressed against him or taken away. When he finally regained consciousness fully, he was still sore, but less horrifically.

"How are you feeling?" Demyx asked. He'd dressed their daughter in a yellow onesie. He was still cradling her.

"Better," Ienzo said. "Sore, but I'll manage."

"Good. ...I think someone wants breakfast."

"Something we have in common." He took her against his breast. "You should know… Saïx arrived last night."

Demyx flushed. "That asshole?"

"He was here to surrender himself. He was gravely wounded; he owes me a debt. And I intend to collect. He will not harm our baby."

A hot anger flooded Demyx's eyes; he grit his teeth. Ienzo had never seen that look before. Frankly, it was terrifying. "Like hell he will. I'll--" He cut himself off before he could say something violent in front of the baby.

"...And I'd help." Ienzo burped her.

He sighed. "Right. So, breakfast. What do you want? You haven't eaten since she was born."

And Ienzo was feeling it. "Pancakes. Bacon. So many carbs."

He gave him a small salute. "On it."

Ienzo followed him upstairs. He almost didn't want to set her down. Isa has been removed, detained elsewhere, he suspected, so they could have peace. Even sat at the table with his head in his hands, but when he heard them he perked up. "Are you alright?" Ienzo asked.

"Sleep spells always give me a horrific headache," he muttered. "Never mind that. How are you?"

"Better. Starved."

"Well, you're still eating for two." He got up and crossed over to him. "Is she feeding?"

"Quite well."

He stroked her small head once, something hazy in his eyes. "Seems like yesterday this was you."

The smell of frying bacon practically made Ienzo weak at the knees. "It must."

"May I?"

"...Yes."

Even took her gently into his arms. "I am much too young to be a grandfather."

Ienzo sat gingerly. His uterus was beginning to cramp in earnest now; only a pale shadow of yesterday's pain, but nonetheless not pleasant. Demyx gave him water, juice; he drank it all down and then some. He had to restrain himself from eating too quickly when the food was finally placed in front of him. "To think, only a little over twelve hours ago I began laboring in this same chair."

"...Quite." Even bounced her gently. "It seemed to go as well as it could've--for that, I'm grateful."

"Please give everyone my sincerest thanks."

"Yeah," Demyx said. "Really."

"They've all been messaging me all morning, asking about you and the baby."

Demyx gave him more food when his plate was clean; Ienzo kept eating. "And… our friend?"

"Being kept in that hellish unit across town."

Ienzo nodded. "In the Forecast… our daughter mentioned… an unexpected ally. A friend ."

"...That occurred to me too." Even exhaled heavily. "I suppose… there are stranger bedfellows."

"He was wounded. He owes me. I should--speak with him."

His head snapped up. "Ienzo, your sole job right now is to rest and learn to be a parent. I know you probably feel fine, but you said yourself--you were in labor twelve hours ago."

"I'll teach him how to chill," Demyx said. "We'll be okay."

Even nodded. With something like regret, he gave the baby back to Demyx. "I should check on the situation. You go back to bed and stay there."

Appetite sated, Ienzo did. The magic was starting to wane, and he was again tired. He and Demyx cuddled with their daughter. Something had changed in him, Ienzo realized; something had become serious, shifted in his eyes. Grown up. "Did you tell your parents?"

Demyx hardly spoke about his adoptive parents; Ienzo found it odd, considering adopted children were almost always wanted. He'd gathered from faint whispers and from Riku that, while his mother had been accepting of the whole magical thing, she wasn't so accepting of her son's sexuality. So Ienzo's pregnancy had initially excited her--until she learned he wasn't a woman.

Demyx took the baby's hand; it closed around his finger. "They're glad you and the baby are healthy. But they… don't care about meeting her. Or you, for that matter."

Ienzo sighed. "I'm so sorry." He wondered if their tune would change if they knew of his lineage.

He shrugged, though Ienzo saw the flicker of pain. "I don't mind holding my distance. I have you; I have her. That's all that matters." A pause. "I feel like… I was meant to be her dad, you know? And yeah, it terrifies me. I've been afraid from the minute we decided to do this. But that dream…"

"What did she show you?"

"That we're gonna crush it." He kissed the baby's head. "Doesn't she smell good?"

"She does," Ienzo conceded, brushing a finger across her cheek; she snuffled. "What should we name her?"

"I dunno. She's the princess--isn't it a big deal?"

Ienzo realized he had seen the baby purely as theirs . But she was the heir; royalty. He laughed a little.

"What's so funny?"

"I gave birth to the princess in an unfinished basement."

"...Hey, we made it pretty homey down here." A pause. "Does that make me royalty?"

"You'd be considered my consort, so in a roundabout way, yes."

"...I like that." He kissed him. "You mean in another life we would've been rich? Ugh." He smiled a little. "I was thinking…" The baby blinked stiffly. "Amalia."

"Why, pray tell?"

"She's a figure from our heritage. She was the one who freed us from the rule of the land, the word of the gods."

"...A liberator?" He nodded once. "Yes. That's it."

"Little Ammy. Lia. Li-li. Maya."

Ienzo chuckled. "Let her learn her name, before you nickname her."

"I can't wait to take her to the ocean."

"Will she… be able to transform?"

Demyx shrugged. "I have no idea," he said softly. "I haven't even been able to try myself since I got my power. But if she takes after you…" He furrowed his brows. He very gently took the baby-- Amalia --from Ienzo, unbuttoned the top of her onesie, and turned her onto her belly.

"What are you doing?"

He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. He shone it on her shoulders. "...Huh."

"What?"

"Look. That iridescence. They're her fledgling scales. I had them too. They'll be really small, and rub off."

"...Will it hurt?"

"It'll itch." He redressed her and laughed a little. "My fishy."

"...I never noticed them on you."

"They shed, like skin. When I lost my power… they fell off, and never came back." He settled her against his chest. "I love her so much it hurts. "

"...Me too."

---

As natural as it felt, there was still some adjusting when it came to parenting; Amalia did not cry much, but when she did it was piercing. He and Demyx took her night feedings in shifts; Ienzo was soon able to strain off the excess milk he made for the freezer. Demyx worked; Ienzo cared for the baby. He was afraid to leave the house with her, lest they be attacked; Even only enabled his paranoia. But finally Demyx coaxed him into a walk in the park, and when there were no Heartless, Ienzo relented.

How odd, to simply be a family. People would smile at him and the baby in public; it took Ienzo too long to realize it was just because of the baby, and not because anyone recognized them. Perhaps she had inherited Demyx's charm; perhaps it was because she was an adorable newborn.

About a week after she was born, Ienzo insisted on seeing Isa.

He was doing better now; in fact, he seemed to have gained some weight. Ienzo noticed for the first time the scar on his face; he must've put it there the day they fled to Twilight Town. He’d been too exhausted the last time they’d met. He was reading calmly when Ienzo was ushered in. "You look well," he said.

"Are you comfortable?" Ienzo asked instead.

"Quite--I am--very well protected." His lip curled.

Ienzo sat on one of the chairs. "You owe me a debt."

"I do."

"I intend to collect."

"Then tell me how I can pay. I've already told the guardians of yours all I know."

"Such as?"

"This is more than just human experimentation. Xehanort attempted--he wants to give everyone magic, with the darkness. Before I met him… I was a normal little boy, albeit one locked into a monstrous form three days of the month. Lately… those enhancements were… redoubled, in a desperation to quash the remaining resistance. Hence… why I could use the power outside the full moon."

"But some people's bodies simply cannot handle magic," Ienzo said. He thought of his eye, how even he was not immune from this. “Not to that extent.”

Isa sighed. "Yes. In my time… I've seen too much death."

"You said you would rather die nobly rather than senselessly. What about living?"

A sad smile. "Look into my eyes."

Ienzo did.

"See the gold? My--pointed ears? Signs of poisoning--of darkness. Likely within a few years if I do not fall entirely, my cells will begin to break down--degrade."

"Perhaps we could fix that."

"Well--it may prove useful to your research, anyway."

"So they have numbers, darkness, and magic. What could you provide?"

"Intelligence. ...A double agent."

"You, I presume?"

He shook his head. "I've shot my load--as it were. But I trust this individual."

"And why should I?"

"Because he very much knows who you are--and has not acted on it." He cocked his head. "Have you ever heard of a bar called Seventh Heaven?"

"You know I know. You stalked me there," Ienzo spat. "You mean--the bartender--Luxord?"

" Very sharp, your highness. He knows all about all of your friends, too. He does not care about Xehanort's cause; all he wants is his own personal safety… and to see the situation evolve."

"So why would he help us?"

"To see how the game is played." He set his book aside. "I'm also willing to protect your daughter."

Ienzo tensed.

"I know. Why let me near her?"

"Why indeed." He leaned forward. "Tell me everything."

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 18 Review: Making Biscuits

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }

{ Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Early morning on Maljardin. Exhausted from a day of shock and disbelief at the arrivals of her mother and Reverend Dawson on the island paradise(?) of Maljardin, Holly sleeps on the couch in the château’s great hall. Quietly, a fully dressed Jean Paul descends the grand staircase and stops behind the couch to cover her with a blanket. “Hi, Dad,” she says. “I had a dream. I thought that-”

I know that she’s probably a bit creeped out, but, honestly, I kind of envy Holly in this scene. There are days that I wish that I could wake up to see Jean Paul Desmond at my bedside. I know he has all kinds of issues and personality flaws, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him cute and charming.

She tells him that she was dreaming about waiting for her father at home. “I know the feeling only too well,” he responds. “ Sometimes you know when memories haunt dreams, nightmares can follow.” I know that he is probably referring to nightmares about Erica’s death and/or to that freaky dream sequence with Raxl from the end of Episode 5, but still, I have to wonder if he, like Holly, lost his father at a young age. They reveal a little about Jean Paul’s father in the third and final arc of the show, but I don’t recall them discussing the specifics of his death beyond one thing that would be a spoiler to mention at this point. It would have been interesting to learn a bit about Jean Paul’s father in the Maljardin arc, but, unfortunately, we don’t.

So gallant! <3

We cut to a scene of Dan waiting impatiently for Jean Paul at the French Leave Café while talking to Vangie. Mostly, this scene exists so that Vangie can elaborate on why Maljardin is so hard to get to. “That channel is a cross between a tide and a continual tornado,” she says. “It's full of rocks and shoals. Actually, it’s never even been properly charted.” (Except probably by one of the des Mondes.) This is the only new information we get in any of the scenes between Dan and Vangie in this episode; the rest is nearly all recap, so I’m going to skip over most of it.

We return to Maljardin, where Holly and Jean Paul are sipping coffee from some dainty little cups. Before leaving for the main island, he asks her to attend Erica’s funeral, but she is reluctant because her mother and Reverend Dawson will be there. He advises her essentially to suck it up and go--which, as she points out, sounds like something "the good padre” would say. And then this happens:

I...don’t think that’s the generator.

Holly goes running upstairs and, just after, Jacques reveals that it was indeed he who tampered with the generator:

Love Jacques’ sarcasm in talking about the importance of the Holly portrait and how Tim and Holly may be “finished” before it is. And yes, the good Jacques portrait is back!

Next, we get what has to be the single most painful line of dialogue that the usually witty Jacques gets on the entire show: “Dear me, it does pose a dilemma,” says he about the situation with the Holly portrait that Boring Artist Tim is painting. “Pose, portrait, dilemma. A little play on words.” He snickers, indicating that at least he thinks the line is funny. “But I assure you I'm not playing games.” As Paflad would say, “BADOOM, and indeed, TSHHH!“

After the bad pun storm is over, he tells Jean Paul to bring Dan back with him to Maljardin because “[Jacques wants] to be sure that he doesn’t work against [him].” Cut to the second Dan and Vangie scene, where they recap nearly all the most important events on the show so far. It’s not all recap, however, as we do hear Vangie’s interpretation of the King of Wands, one of the Tarot cards featured last episode:

Vangie: “This way, a man of immense wealth and prestige and power in the world.”

“Reverse him, and he becomes the traditional card of ill-omen, a devil himself. Jean Paul Desmond...or Jacques Eloi des Mondes.”

And now onto the scene featuring the Matt-Holly-Tim love triangle, which feels endless because I can’t stand this subplot. I’m planning on writing a post someday explaining everything that’s wrong with this subplot and exactly why it doesn’t work, but I want to wait until after I’ve reviewed at least three more episodes featuring it. Nothing important happens in this scene, but we do get these lines:

Holly: "I wish my mother was on canvas instead of always on my back."

Be careful what you wish for, Holly. Someday you could have a portrait of Elizabeth Marshall that speaks to you constantly and manipulates you into doing things that make no sense to other characters. (Not a spoiler.)

The best Tim line on the show, and it’s a line flub. Go figure.

After the seemingly endless Tim scene ends, we return to the main island, where Jacques possesses Jean Paul while he is meeting with Dan. (He takes Jacques’ suggestions an awful lot, and I’m not sure if it’s because he actually agrees or because Jacques is manipulating him and he finds it too hard to resist.) We start with this shot of Jacques with ever-so-mildly creepy lighting:

Not scary, but it successfully conveys the message that Jacques has just taken control.

This scene makes up for the mediocrity of the rest of this episode. Jacques is his devilishly charming self, impersonating Jean Paul and making a fool of him by behaving far too cheerfully for a man in mourning. When Dan questions him, he insists that he’s only putting on a brave face and inwardly grieving, but Dan remains suspicious.

I must admit that I found this Jacques line--cheesy as it is--pretty funny.

Jacques, of course, takes advantage of the opportunity to troll him. Why not? For the first eleven episodes, he stuck to aiding Jean Paul and mostly just did things that they both wanted to do, with just a few exceptions like killing Dr. Menkin and giving Alison romantic dreams about him. Since Episode 12, however, he has been regularly screwing with Jean Paul’s life, trying to undermine nearly everything he tries to do in some way unless it also benefits him. By now, Jacques is in control of Jean Paul even when he’s inside the painting and so he probably feels he can get away with anything.

Anyway, remember when Jacques fired Dan in Episode 15? Well, he’s re-hired now and invited to Maljardin. He’s also more confused than ever, particularly because Jacques (who he believes is Jean Paul) keeps making faces like this:

BISSITS FACE!

For those of you who haven’t read my review of Episode 4 or who don’t remember it, Bissits Face™ is the name I gave to the cartoonish faux-innocent face that Jacques likes to make, where he opens his eyes extremely wide and purses his lips in a very cute way. The name comes from its resemblance to the face my cat makes when he makes biscuits, or “bissits” as I call them in baby-talk. I know the name is silly, but it is a silly face and probably not one you’d make in real life if you genuinely wanted to appear innocent--which is further evidence that Jacques thinks that he’s smarter than everyone else (and is probably right).

If his wrists weren’t crossed, he’d look like he was getting ready to make biscuits on that table like a cat.

Meow?

Of course, this isn’t his only bug-eyed expression, and he does keep those gorgeous blue peepers open quite a lot. I think that Colin Fox intended for Jacques to look “crazy,” which would explain all the wide-eyed expressions he has him make. Crazy eyes are, after all, pretty much standard acting technique for playing characters who are mentally disturbed to some degree. There’s an old French actor named Gérard Berner whom I’ve nicknamed “Crazy Eyes,” because, in the two miniseries I’ve seen him in (La dame de Monsoreau (1971) and Le roi qui vient du sud (1979)), he played characters with anger problems and, when said characters got enraged, he opened his eyes so wide that you would swear they were about to fall out of his head. This scene from Monsoreau is a good example, as is the one that follows it (Berner is the man with the longish hair and the silver doublet). Obviously, the intended meaning of Bissits Face™ is “I’m pretending to be innocent” and not “I’m angry,” but it’s still the same technique.

Gérard Berner (right) as François d’Anjou in La dame de Monsoreau (1971), demonstrating the crazy eye technique in a very different context.

Anyway, after Dan leaves to get ready to sail to Maljardin, Jacques and Vangie exchange a few words. By this point, she knows for certain who he is and that he will bring death to the island.

A rare instance of the subtitles getting Vangie’s name right.

I really like this exchange, so, as with many other exchanges that I really like, I’m going to post a full transcription:

Jacques: "Did you hear it all, Vangie?" Vangie: "Enough to make me wonder if I shouldn't contact the newspapers and let them find out the kind of man you really are."

Jacques: "You wouldn't do that, because you're afraid of my...power."   Vangie: "In this world...or the next?" 

Jacques: "Next world?" *laughs* "What are you talking about? You've been playing cards too much. It's dulling your senses."   Vangie: "My father is dead. I am now the Conjure Woman. My senses are greater than ever. There is evil roaming on Maljardin. It must be destroyed."

Getting nervous, Jacques?

Jacques: "Vangie! You and your witchcraft. It will be the death of me yet.” Vangie: "I'm after the Devil."

Yup, definitely nervous.

Jacques: "And he's after you!"

And then we have a marvelous little credits scene where Jacques sits down in the big wicker chair, looking enormously pleased with himself. He puts his feet up on the table in front of him, grins, polishes his ring, all while looking incredibly self-satisfied. I love this comment about it on YouTube: “I can imagine the director telling Colin at the end credits,'Ok Colin-Baby, now just sit there and look smug...that's it...more smug-more smug...annnnd got it!'”

Smug.

Smugger.

Smuggest.

This episode is typical of Wednesday episodes on this show: light on plot and heavy on recap and character interaction that may or may not be filler. The only important things that happen in this one are (1) Jacques brings Dan with him to Maljardin and (2) Vangie reveals to Jacques that she has become the Conjure Woman and therefore a powerful opponent. But neither of these happen until the final scene, so, in all honesty, one could skip over most of this episode without missing much save for Tim’s hilarious line flub.

Coming up next: Reverend Dawson holds Erica’s funeral and Holly discusses an interesting nightmare she had about her mother.

{ <-- Previous: Episode 17   ||   Next: Episode 19 --> }

[hollandroos]

Run To Me | Sequel to Blow A Kiss, Fire A Gun | Prologue!

PART ONE IS OUT AND HERE!

{Y/N} - I apologise if the read more doesn’t work on the origional post!

The therapist stared the small girl down. Little brown curls littered her forehead like springs as she fiddled with the teddy bear in her hands. It was a little bit tattered at the edges, a certain spot of fur matted together but it was the little blue bear that she’d had since birth, the one that hid at the bottom of her junior school bag because she refused to go to school without it… some days. Some days she preferred the small, white and slightly creepy looking cat that she’d carry around by the tale.

Her hands. Red, raw, bloody. Your own daughter, falling apart right before your very eyes.

“Rosie?” The therapist asks, trying to come to eye level with your daughter but it was difficult. Despite her blabbering on about how independent (without actually using that word) and brave she is, she struggled to even look into the eyes of a stranger.

“Rose?” You whisper, bobbing your knee up and down to get the small girls attention. “Can you talk to the lady please?”

“I don’t want to be here.” She mumbles, bottom lip falling into a pout. “I wanna go home.”

You take one of her hands in your own, thumb gently running over the little pink and white hello kitty band-aids. She doesn’t seem to notice, looking at the pile of kids toys that sat in the corner of the room.

“Harper just wants to help you like she helps me.” You try to prevent your voice from shaking and almost fail too if it weren’t for a quick side eye from the therapist. “She’s nice, sweetheart.”

Your daughter was never difficult, on edge definitely and you partially blamed yourself. She’d been bought up seeing you hide in a shell both of your old self and one of pure fear and terror, merely smiling and sometimes not even leaving the bed. On those days your daughter would lay next to you, a rerun of teen titans or how to train your dragon on Netflix. She surely heard your screams in the very middle of the night and saw you freak out whenever she was too loud.

“No, mum.” Your daughter looks up, her glassy eyes finally off of the teddy bear. She begins wriggling around in your arms, the small girl grunting as she fails down your lap. “I wanna play with the toys.”

You were unsure but eventually sigh, letting her go. The near-five-year-old jumps down, little legs making their way towards what children would call ‘Heaven’. There were lego pieces and board games and the odd Rubix cube but your attention was directed towards her little hands, the size of a large tomato but that didn’t worry you, what did was the fact that her hands were the color of one.

The therapist coughs gently, leaning forward in her seat. “So from what you’ve shown me I definitely see signs.”

You weren’t surprised, not even batting an eyelash. “What can we do from here?” You ask, foot tapping gently against the carpeted floor, a nervous habit.

“There’s nothing you really can do, neither can I considering her age. Rosie is young, this could easily just be a phase.” She almost shrugs it off casually, black glasses slipping down her nose and she was quick to shove them up again, eyelashes hitting the frames.

“So you just want me to-” You begin, with no success.

“You can bandage them, give her toys to play with and keep her nails short but that’s about it for now-”

“You want me to let my daughter keep doing this to herself? To sit back and watch?” You feel your eyes prickle and Rosie seems to ignore your sudden outburst. Either she was listening carefully as she often did, focusing despite your knowledge or she was completely oblivious, focusing purely on the game pieces.

A wave of anger washes over you, as well as fear and guilt. The system was screwed up, sure, but you didn’t know how bad until then and there. Your hands trembled, afraid that you couldn’t stop this, you couldn’t be the mother Rosie needed.

“There is nothing I can do. I’m sorry, I know it must be hard but you can help, even just by talking to her about what she’s doing.”

You grit your teeth, hands clenching around the arms of the chairs. If you gripped them any harder you fear the wood breaking off, snapping beneath your fingertips and causing a magnitude of splinters.

Rosie listens, wondering why the two adults were talking about her while she was in the room. The little girl was notorious for picking up things she shouldn’t and at that moment she was trying to decipher what they were saying and why her mum looked like she was about to cry.

Her chubby fingers toy with a Rubix cube and while she had no idea what she was doing, she adored the bright colors. However, they clashed with the pink and white that decorated her hands. The hello kitty ones were her favorite, definitely better than the wiggles band-aids that’d been forced on her last week by the teachers at school.

What was wrong with her?

{ Tom }

“I don’t care what you have tomorrow, We need to have a fucking meeting.” Tom spat into the phone, face red hot with anger. “Your girlfriend can fucking wait. This is important.”

His hands gripped the very roots of his hair, anger racing through every phone as the man on the other end tried to get out of it. Tom couldn’t completely blame him, he’d do the same if he was about to lose his head.

The silence was all that could be heard through the other end of the phone between heavy, nervous breaths and the mobster already knew that he had this one in the bag.

“I can try-”

‘Try’ wasn’t good enough, nowhere near it for the mob boss who had already been pushed past his breaking point by the same client multiple times. He was ready to get his hands dirty again, paint the town red and grey and make those that deserved it fall to their knees.

Tom turned towards his desk, fingers clenching around the cool gun, the metal making goosebumps arise. “You will be there or I swear to god-”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll be there.” Wilson muttered, pursing his lips together in defeat.

Tom almost laughed at the nerves that were visible through even the phone. The guy's voice shook with fear. 

Tom hung up the phone, slamming it down on the desk in pure anger. People that messed with him and his business didn't get off the hook easily and this guy was no different- the fact that he thought he was made Tom’s blood boil. It made the wheels in his brain spin with different possibilities and ways he could show the client who the boss was in this situation.

“He’s coming?”

“He’ll be there.”

-

Words: 1524

Warnings: There will be violence, sexual references, and possible smut. (no guarantees) This story will also focus around both Y/N and her daughters struggle with mental illnesses so if you’re not okay with talks/symptoms of PTSD and OCD disorders the this won’t be for you.

Notes: Angels, I think you all deserve this fic after waiting so long. As someone with an OCD disorder (not the one that’ll be portrayed in this series), I’m so excited to delve into mental illness in fiction and do my best to portray it properly and just expand my horizons.

- There are a lot of dad/mafia series, so if this seems similar to yours then message me for credit.

Posting day: Tuesdays. 

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[luc1xx0]

This is kind of a long story, so buckle up kids!

I’m pretty sure that I posted a backstory to my comic that Imma delete, but here is an updated version:

 First off: What you already know about the Ink Machine and other details which btw is not my portion of the story, but actually goes to thebbros (that's not a link)

Basically, the ink machine was used to cure people of the ink illness a very long time ago. Once people didn’t need it anymore, it was considered useless, therefore people just allowed the ink machine to slowly but surely break down. 

Fast forward to several centuries later, two fools who were known as the Cup-bros make a dumbass bet to the Devil and lose. They had the choice to either die or to bring back the ink illness. Of course, they go with the second option, and a lot of people start dying because of them. The devil’s power was limited to 50 people a year, so he started spreading it. A lot of people were catching ink illness and dying. Chaos arose and everyone was losing their minds.

 That’s like literally the most inconvenient time for the ink machine to stop running.

 People needed it, but even though they knew its position, nobody knew how to actually repair it. Then, you meet B-bros. Bendy and Boris: Two mechanics and non-blood related brothers who knew what pieces were required to make the ink machine to operate properly. The only problem is that the pieces mysteriously scattered all throughout the land. Bendy gave up and tried to ignore it until he got the ink illness; coincidence I think not! After a lot of crying and praying, an angel gave Boris a map that would assist him while looking for the pieces. Only he and Bendy could see it so there was no point in asking for help. They both went about on their quest to find the pieces, but they didn’t know that they pissed off the Devil. He had no power to stop this, but still had a connection to the Cup-bros, so he lied and told them that he would kill them if they did not stop Bendy and Boris. So then THEY went to complete their task.

And done! With the first section of the story which was just a review for y‘all babtqftim fans. Now, this is part of my story:

Aniya was walking through the park, as she always does during her work breaks. The trees remind her of a forest; Aniya really likes forests because they could be holding any secret in there, like what kind of mystical or non-mystical creatures could be roaming around. She walked to the table closest to the trees and sits there for a few minutes. As she is about to leave, Aniya noticed something on the ground; it was round, smooth, and seems to be glowing. Just out of curiosity, Aniya picked it up and took it with her. 

But what was it?

Answer: Aniya unknowingly took a piece of the Scepter with her. What she found originates back to over a millennium ago. Four sisters shared a medieval kingdom, surrounded by a huge forest where people have believed mystical animals lived there. The Scepter was placed in the heart of the kingdom to show that they claim this land. The Scepter had a beautiful gem that consisted of multiple colors, and at some point of the day, the sun would be perfectly aligned with it.

 The sisters fought all by themselves against demonic creatures, day and night. At the time, they were at their worst, flying and crawling around giving people the most traumatizing horrors that would make them want to just end it all and forget everything that ever happened in their memories. 

At some point in time, they became weak and did not have enough strength to defeat all of these beasts, so they scattered throughout the kingdom, and into people’s heads. The rest of the story goes that people killed themselves and the princesses were kept as hostages. It was a corrupt age, but ultimately, most of the demons died off, and it is very uncommon to see one now. Yet if you did, they are much tamer, and you could not blame them for what their ancestors did. Today, nobody knows what happened to the four siblings, and that will probably remain a puzzle.

The Scepter is still in its place, and is actually now a bit of a tour of the kingdom! Of course, its gems were damaged and fragmented. They went darting in every direction as they molded themselves into amulets. It’s like they have been waiting for the right person ever since. Soon enough there will be the chosen ones, who will help restore harmony and bring people back home. It’s basically like being a superhero; it could be anyone in the world, or they could be standing right in front of you.

Let’s fast forward again!

Aniya has gone home and still doesn’t know that she is not just holding a weird toy.. until it starts gleaming red again. The glowing was not prominent in the middle of the day, but by the time Aniya got home it was night and she did not know what to do when this happened.

She pushes this all aside after she starts coughing a lot. 

At first, Aniya just thought she was seeing things, but then she realized that she was coughing up actual INK. She got very scared because she did not want to feel pain. To bad for her because every last second of that night was a never-ending hell for Aniya. The poor thing was home alone with a dead battery on her phone. She even built up tears, and she never cries.

 Suddenly somebody thrust open the door, and it’s Evey (thank god!!!!). She hears wailing from upstairs and runs as fast as she can to find Aniya on the floor, choking on ink. Holyyyyy shit is how you would describe her reaction. She panicked, but then grabbed a bunch of towels and water and proceeded to clean up Aniya. The ink faded off, and Evey calmed her down put Aniya to bed.

Edit: Even though there were only four sisters who possessed the crystals, part of the power from the tiny broken pieces of them could possibly be inherited by other people. That’s what could possibly make a whole team of heroes that will end the threats.

And there you go! A refreshed version of the backstory! I swear to god I am deleting the original one because this one is so much better! Damn this took like an hour to make. Anyways, I’m so sorry I could not make any art right now. I could try to make paper art, but digital art is just so much better quality. You guys should let me know what you think. If you made it to the end of this post, I hope you have a good night!

 BTW the start of the comic takes place the day after all of this shit.

[hiyo-silver]

Storytime - Affection

Summary: Bill remembers what Richie did for him before his college graduation.

Chap 1 + Chap 2 + Chap 3 + Chap 4 + Chap 5 + AO3 + My Masterlist

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @starboystan @rachi0964 @ahoybyeler @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie

Bill lays in bed still now for the second day in a row, avoiding the world for fear that he'll be seen different. He can't help but think up video ideas through his nothingness, especially storytimes from when he and Richie were younger, maybe even a story from back when Bill was in college.

Richie Tozier never really considered college in his early adulthood, it's not that he didn't have dreams or the means to get accepted, he just doesn't have the desire to be retaught everything so soon after graduating high school. He fears it would dampen the feeling of success that his high school graduation gave him as he strode across the stage for his diploma.

Bill, however, is on an endless mission to make his parents proud about something, and he's decided that four years of college ought to be the way. The credentials definitely are a plus, maybe he truly could be a world renowned writer is an achievable goal, the losers often told him so.

What Bill doesn't like in his college years, final exam season. He can't help but make post after post updating his progress on his final assignments for the final year, trying to make benchmarks for himself so he can tell himself he's making progress.

He writes two thousand more words, logging on to Facebook again on his laptop, having already not allowed himself his phone so he could have a fighting chance at focus without the Adderall he'd taken to buying from a classmate through the year, though he found that mountain dew helps him about the same.

He takes another swig off his mountain dew red that he's had sat next to his laptop on his desk for the past thirty minutes, only another to follow the many that he'd already knocked back to hold his focus and hopefully even keep him hydrated through this journey. As far as he can tell he hasn't drank water any time in the past seven months, he tried to keep healthy in the beginning before he lost himself in the usual college student self hatred.

He logs into his account, sighing as he sees all his friends' parents showing up all through his feed, all talking about how proud they are of the ones who are in college, Bev finally finishing through beauty school, Eddie working for his engineering degree (not approved by his mother- but the Toziers and Uris' applaud him nonetheless).

He goes to create a status, "I swear I'm going to die writing this, how's your days going?" He types out with caffeine induced shaking fingers. He clicks enter more aggressively than he means to, used to the intense typing that come with his assignments. He's thankful for the fact that he doesn't have a roommate for he'd keep him awake all night long with his powerful typing and intermittent groans of frustration.

He gets a few likes, mostly his friends and peers agreeing, it's truly crunch time in all ways of work now, summer nearing. God, he can't wait for summer, a camping trip with his friends, spin the bottle and jumping into the lake in their underwear, just as they always do.

He goes back at his furious typing, his eyes watering slightly from the brightness of the screen that he's been staring at for who knows how long. He doesn't know how long it's been when he hears a knock on the door that makes him jump, the caffeine making him even more anxious and squirrelly.

He slides out of his chair, nearly everything cracking, especially his neck and back which makes him let out a low groan. He shuffles to the door, squinting his eyes in preparation in case the hall light is on.

He opens the door, squeezing his eyes shut at the light he doesn't expect. He feels himself pushed back into the dorm room and nearly has a panic attack before he opens his eyes to unveil no other than his best friend, Richie.

"Sweet baby Jesus, Denbrough, you look even worse than I expected," Richie chuckles with worry lacing his tone despite himself, flipping the light switch up to mask the dark room into the artificial yellow light so he can get a better look.

Bill hisses through his teeth when the lights flick on, making his throw his hands up to his face, clearly upset. "Ah c'mon you little vampire, you're taking a break, I was gonna take you out but I don't think you're even up for that," Richie says, trying to sound like he's joking but actually concerned.

He puts his hands on Bill's shoulders, "c'mon, I need to see your face," he says, his tone one that would remind most people of a mother telling their kids just to hurry up and get in the car.

Bill uncovers his face, still squinting until his eyes adjust to the light, his blue eyes glowing with some relief but an artificial touch of anger added into his expression. He gestures lazily at his computer desk, "Gotta- assignment, yeah," he mumbles, having holed himself up like a hermit for the past weeks.

Richie immediately shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips in a way Bill thinks Eddie has a couple times in another effort to get his way. Bill blinks at him in frustration, his expression almost immediately going to a pout.

"Nope, you're taking a break, I'm afraid, my deal Billiam," Richie says, teasing him with a sing songy lovey voice, rubbing his hands over Bill's shoulders again before dropping his hands to his sides.

Bill makes a whimpering sound in the back of his throat, looking ready to stamp his feet on the floor and properly throw a tantrum like a toddler as he's obviously not at his best.

"Nope, not convincing me otherwise, you need a glass of water and a nap- and maybe a shower, greaseball. And that's coming from me," Richie says, already going to Bill's linen cabinet to throw a towel in his direction.

He starts ushering Bill to the bathroom, "A nice warm shower, alright?" He asks, spinning Bill around suddenly to meet his eyes.

"Mkay," Bill says with a soft yawn, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyelids in an attempt of making himself look more alive, not knowing himself how he looks but Richie's reaction was enough.

"Dude? When was the last time you ate something or slept?" Richie asks, almost as an afterthought, frowning a bit as he keeps his face in line with Bill's.

Bill looks up for a moment, chewing his already chapped lower lip. "What time is it now?" He asks, looking confused as soon as he realizes that he has no clue.

"That's it, shower, go," Richie says with a sigh, spinning Bill around to shove him at the bathroom, Bill being too tired to protest it.

Richie goes about looking around to remember where Bill's dresser is, pulling the top drawer open to grab him a fresh hoodie and some fuzzy pajama pants that should be comfortable, putting them on the desk with a post it note before heading out hopefully quick enough to get back for when Bill's dressed.

Bill steps out of the shower shivering at the air that strongly differentiates the steam from the shower. He looks himself in the mirror for the first time now, sighing when he actually sees himself. He looks too thin and spindly for his own liking, seeing exactly how obvious that it is that he's not taking care of himself.

He steps out of the bathroom wrapped in his towel, seeking the clothes folded on his desk, reading the little yellow note left atop them, 'went to go get some food- be back soon -Richie', it reads, bringing a small smile to Bill's face as he pulls on the pajamas, feeling the warmth re-engulf him.

He sits in his desk chair, the exhaustion taking over again but since Richie is gone for a bit he feels as though he should try and cram in another couple words to his project, feeling like the longer it is the better the professor will take it.

Richie comes back to him hunched over his laptop again, his eyes bright with some sort of inspiration, so Richie waits a few moments before he actually says anything. "Bill. I thought I said break," he sighs out, sounding genuinely sad. He just wants to be good for him.

"It's four a.m. and you're going to drink the ice water I ordered you, eat the Panera sandwich, and go to bed," Richie says sternly, helping Bill up from his chair to bring him over to the bed, "It's got meat and vegetables and I feel like you eat neither of those," Richie says as he pulls Bill's meal out of the bag, shoving the to go cup full of water to him.

"Thank you," Bill says softly, chewing on the straw as he drinks the water, feeling a little bad that Richie is spending so much effort on making him take care of himself, it makes him feel guilty for worrying him and he'll definitely have to find a way to pay him back after this.

"It's no problem, I just don't want a repeat of freshman year, you came on the camping trip but you were miserable. You can't just work yourself ill like that, you just laid in the camper the whole time, and I don't think that was fun for any of us, except the time I came in and spooned you. I came and I ran my hands through your hair," Richie says, going in to pet Bill's hair, "You're a little warm, not like then though," Richie says, sighing at the memory, "At least Stan is like a walking urgent care," Richie chuckles, putting his arm around Bill's waist now.

Bill eats at his sandwich, leaning into Richie's touch sleepily, his eyes half closed in his comfort, he feels okay being vulnerable with Richie. "That wasn't fun," he agrees with a nod, his mouth full as he speaks, multitasking as he'd call it.

Richie nods, nudging the water closer to Bill again, making him take another sip. "I think it's time for you to go to bed," he says affectionately, running his fingers through his hair with a soft smile, taking the packaging from the food to toss across the room, "I made the shot," he grins as he pulls the blanket up over Bill. He gets up to go turn the lights off, earning a whine from his sleep deprived friend.

He climbs under the covers with him, "Better?" He asks. Bill responds by laying his head on Richie's chest and wrapping arms around him, nestling his face into the crook of Richie's neck right where his neck begins and his shoulders end. Comfort.

Bill comes back to in present time, feeling his eyes prick with tears at the memory, wiping at his eyes carefully. If only he hadn't shut Richie out this time, they could be like that again.

[403secret]

Hi! Can you write 13 for Keith? (cuz he's my babe.)

13 from [this list]: running a 39/102 fever

surprise, this is my first time writing a character with the flu since 2013 *jazz hands* i guess you could say i’ve avoided it like the plague? but anyways, i hope it’s okay. pre-relationship college au klance.

(also, this was supposed to be ~100 words. instead it ended up being a long unstylized wreck.)

The door swings open. Keith doesn’t bother to change; he drops his backpack onto the ground, kicks off his shoes, stumbles down the hallway. It’s been a long day. He’s going to sleep.

His bedroom is an entire fifteen feet away from the door, which isn’t that far, all things considered. Except, a few steps forward are enough to send his vision swimming, and he has to lean onto a wall because his legs aren’t enough to support him on their own.

Fuck.

His head is pounding and everything’s too hot, too bright. God, he really needs sleep. Maybe two all-nighters in a row wasn’t the best idea. If only he could just get to the damn bed.

He staggers forward, one hand gripping the wall so hard his knuckles are turning white. The floor is cool and nice and a nice alternative for his bed, he thinks. He contemplates laying down right then and there and going to sleep.

Except, then the fifteen feet are over, and he’s leaning heavily against the doorframe to his room, energy sapped. He takes a few steps and practically collapses face-first onto the bed, not bothering to properly pull the covers over himself.

His phone is still in his hoodie pocket, and it’s getting crushed by his weight. Heaving a sigh, Keith pulls the device from his pocket and sets it on the nightstand beside him, not bothering to look up. He’ll skip class tomorrow, he guesses.

When he next wakes up, it’s not burning anymore. Instead, everything’s too cold– his whole body is trembling with chills, his nose is stuffed, his head throbs like a second heartbeat. It’s all he can do to cross his arms over his chest and hope that the intense shivering will abate.

Then his phone buzzes again, and he’s unpleasantly reminded why he’s up in the first place. Groaning, he grabs it from the nightstand, his hand shaking slightly as he squints his eyes and tries to decipher the words on the screen.

L: hey, mullet

L: when are you going to return my astrophysics textbook? :P

L: i have an exam next week, remember? i need it back

Oh. Right. That.

He should get to doing that.

He straightens, the tremors running through his frame intensifying as he stands up from the bed, which has noticeably warmed up from his own body heat. The dorm room is so damn cold. God. He feels like he’s going to freeze.

A heavy jacket and a scarf later, his shivering has only dulled slightly, and he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that he looks ridiculous. It’s already spring, and it’s stopped snowing, and he’s inside.

Whatever. A short trip to Lance’s room and back and he’ll be done, he tells himself.

He grabs Lance’s textbook, which is conveniently sitting on his desk, rips off the post-it notes he’d used as bookmarks, and shoves the crumpled up papers into his pocket. His head is killing him. Seriously, he needs to take some medicine or something.

It seems like a good idea in theory, but then again, he doesn’t have any in his dorm room. He’s known for being ridiculously unprepared, and he doesn’t get sick often. He weighs his options–will he really have enough energy to haul himself all the way to the campus infirmary or the convenience store?

Not now. Maybe when he feels better. Textbook. Lance. Right.

He wanders down the hallway and slips into his shoes. He knows the way to Lance’s apartment like he knows the back of his hand. He’ll be back in minutes.

Or––not exactly minutes. He waits forever for the elevator, which always takes forever to arrive, and when the door finally opens, he has to lean onto the wall beside the buttons panel just to stop his head from spinning.

Lance lives in the building next to his, but it takes a walk outside in the cold to get to his apartment. Keith’s usually very receptive to the cold, but now, even under all of the extra layers, he’s freezing. He almost contemplates ditching this plan altogether and going back to his nice, not-so-warm apartment.

He’s already halfway there, though. Might as well.

He sneezes, not even bothering to stifle it, and it still saps his body of half of his remaining energy. Great. Almost there, he tells himself. Just up two more floors, and to the end of the hallway––

To his credit, he makes it halfway down the hallway. It’s a pretty decent effort. Except, then, the textbook falls from his hands and his head starts hurting again, damn this illness. He sits down, back to the wall. He feels awful. This was a bad idea, he should’ve just called Lance to pick up the textbook himself, he’s so dizzy and–

“Keith?”

Oh. Lance. Cool.

“Keith, what the fuck are you doing?”

And suddenly, Lance is hovering over him, which is weird, because the last time he opened his eyes Lance was at the other end of the hallway. “Uh,” Keith starts. What is he doing?

He picks up the textbook, which has fallen to the ground next to him, and holds it up so it’s practically in Lance’s face. “Returning this?” It’s what Lance told him to do, right? Why is Lance staring at him like he’s just done something illegal?

“Look,” Lance drawls, huffing a sigh. “I meant, return it to me when you have time, not return it to me when you’re practically dead on your feet. What the fuck.”

Sick Keith might not be the most coherent, but sick Keith knows that Lance only swears every other sentence when he’s mad. He really can’t deal with a lecture right now. “I’ll,” he starts, then clears his throat, “…just get going now. Back to my dorm. Okay, bye.”

This is the part where he’s supposed to stand up and run away, but he gets stuck on the first step.

“Nope,” Lance says, grabbing his arm. “No way. I’m not letting you go all the way to your dorm room.”

Oh, wow, he can actually balance like this. Keith leans into Lance’s touch so that he’s pressed up against Lance’s chest, his head resting on the crook of Lance’s shoulder, because hey, at least he’s not falling over now.

But he’s pretty sure that’s not what he’s supposed to do by the way Lance goes completely rigid. Shit. Keith’s probably making him uncomfortable. Okay, time to backtrack. He tries leaning backwards so he’s not directly in Lance’s arms, except the sudden motion throws off his balance entirely. Lance has to grab him to steady him again. “Shit, Keith. You’re burning up.”

“I’m wearing a thick jacket, it should be a given that I’m–”

“No, that’s not why. You’re like, a literal human furnace right now.”

“I don’t feel hot.”

“Because that’s not the way it works, idiot. I’m pretty sure you have the flu.”

Keith blinks and looks down, suddenly pretending that the ground is fascinating. It’s better than making eye-contact, anyways.

“Oh,” he says.

“Yeah.” Lance sounds pissed off, which is a good sign that Keith should shut up before he ends up making things worse. And so he does.

Lance tucks the textbook book under one arm and helps Keith up. Neither one of them speaks, but as Lance steers him to his room, Keith doesn’t miss the way his eyebrows are drawn together in focused frustration, his lips pulled into a visible frown.

Upon Lance’s instruction, Keith takes a seat on the bed, movements clumsier and more uncoordinated than usual. His head is spinning, and Lance won’t even look at him. “Are you mad?”

He doesn’t miss the way Lance’s shoulders freeze up, doesn’t miss the way he visibly flinches. “Well, duh.” He spits out the confirmation as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You nearly passed out in my hallway. Do you know how much trouble that is for me?”

Keith blinks and sniffles, curling an arm around himself to keep in the warmth better. “If it’s really that much work, I can go back to my room if you want–”

But he doesn’t get to finish, because Lance veers around quickly, jabbing a finger to his chest. “And pass out halfway?” he demands, and there it is. That look again. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I wouldn’t pass out,” is all that comes to mind.

“Yeah, sure. You’re staying here until your fever goes down.” Lance turns around again, his expression unreadable, and Keith lays back onto the bed, halfheartedly pulling the covers over him. It’s nice, actually. It’s adequately warm, and the pillows are positioned nicely, and he thinks he’s already drifting off–

–except Lance is still here, and Keith should probably say something so he can leave. He settles for a tentative, “Thanks.”

Had he been more conscious, he probably would’ve thought more about the way Lance freezes, the tips of his ears turning red. “It’s entirely your fault you’re in this situation. Don’t expect me to help you out,” he says, then steps tersely from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

(Except, when Keith next wakes up, there’s water and medicine on the counter next to the bed, along with a box of tissues and a bowl of still-warm soup, and Lance–who’s apparently decided to stay in the same room as a sick Keith–is seated with his back to the wall opposite to him, fast asleep.)

[sakurabaneku]

KATSUCON HOLY FUCK

it was such a whirlwind weekend i dont even know what happened everything happened

i somehow managed to miss going to ANY panels because i’m disorganized and i spent a lot of the con just wandering the con floor and talkng to people and being generally overwhelmed by the entire thing. id have liked to go to SOME but it was still amazng so idgaf

highlights

thor with the speaker in his hammer. thors jamming hammer blaring call me maybe in a packed elevator

ALL THE TEAM SKULL GRUNTS they were all hilarious. especial shoutout to the huge group of them that packed themselves into an elevator while shouting elevator party. 

SPEAKING OF ELEVATORS god all im talkng about here are the elevators i did more than stand in elevators i swear BUT THAT ONE REINHARDT! HOW! DID! HE! FIT! IN! AN! ELEVATOR! I SAW HIM GO IN BUT H O W

all weekend i saw people posting pics of the snorlax and COULDNT FIND SNORLAX AND THEN! SUNDAY! I FOUND HIM!!!! I LOVE YOU SNORLAX my greatest regret in life is not gettng a snorlax selfie. i failed. shame on me.

WEARING REMYS JOSHUA COSTUME THURSDAY AFTERNOON WAS SO GOOD I FELT SHOCKNGLY GOOD IN HIM two people recognized me while i was pretending to climb in a trashcan. it was excellent. there was a lot of twewy at that con in general. its keeping me alive rn

ALL THE TSUBASA/CLAMP COSPLAY!!!!!!!! THERE WAS SO MUCH OH MY G OD spending saturday night sitting and talkng about tsubasa and my otp was so great. 

just?? being fai in general? i was so worried about that costume and i thought id hate how i looked BUT I LOVED IT I LOVE HIM and i got such a positive response?? people FLIPPED and were generally adorable and also hilarious. i was chased down while walking out of the hotel and it MADE MY NIGHT. god i love fai I LOVE HIM. my private shoot for him went really well and the previews looked so pretty im SO EXCITED

AND i hosted my first public shoot which wasnt the most organized affair but everyone seemed to have fun! i’m planning on setting up a clamp day shoot for ab so HEY if youre considering bringing somethng clamp to that con. hey hey.

in general actually cosplaying enstars was pretty underwhelming ngl but i got to talk to some fun people cause of it and it totally wasnt a bad experience it just wasnt as exciting as some of the other costumes i wore that like, i worked really hard on and challenged myself with and got a really good response for? im figuring out i dont like buying cosplay too much for myself bc I CANT MAKE SHIT EASY!! but the enstars meetup was really fun and i wish i talked to more people! i mostly was just chilling with some knights. also holy fuck speaking of knights there was the most attractive and canon izumi and arashi i took a pic of arashi picking izumi up. it was gold. they were gold. 

ALSO i totally walked by a rei cosplayer on sunday when i was ritsu and had no idea until their friend shouted YOUR BROTHER LOVES YOU which was pretty great and they were also freaking perfect and extremely pretty. there were a lot of extremely pretty people at this con. katsucon isnt an anime convention its just a convention for gorgeous people. with mad skills. 

I MET! A WHOLE! BUNCH! OF MY FAVORTE COSPLAYERS! very briefly. i was too geeky to actually properly TALK to most of them but i tried. i was probably a total embarrassment when i ran into cowbuttcrunchies at the elevators ahjkjh WHOOPS SORRY. another fav cosplayer who wasnt at the con also commented on a selfie of mine on insta and i had about 20 heart attacks. i am still havng 20 heart attacks

ALSO! being soowon was soo much fun and LITERALLY RIGHT WHEN I GOT IN THE ELEVATORS some people freaked and i died. i actually got way more attention for that costume than i expected

the most beautiful mercy like, ever (AND THERE ARE A LOT OF BEAUTIFUL MERCYS THERE WAS A BEAUTIFUL MERCY AT EVERY CORNER OF THE CON) complimented my wig and asked about wig commissions which WHOA whoa someday ill get my life together right and do those SOMEDAY

I DIDNT GET TO DO A GAZEBO PICTURE i was gonna on thursday but i got distracted by trashcans and also by meeting friends. but the gazebo is as legendary and terrifying as i had been told it was JAM FUCKNG PACKED for almost all of friday/saturday

goshgoshGOSH I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ELSE!! I BOUGHT SOME GORGEOUS PRINTS AND I FOUND CAPRI BOOKMARKS WHICH NIIICE but i found a heartstoppngly pretty sormik print and a SICK ASS akatsuki no yona one 

also my charm collection grows. a jaehee was laughing at how heavy my wallet must be because of all the charms. but look theres quality shit there and i fuckng love charms

SPEAKNG OF OH MY G O D joscelyn bought leoizus and leo just. disappeared. he fuckng lionhearted it the fuck out of there i cant believe leoizu breakup happened in my bag. incredible. it was sad he disappeared but joscelyns face when i got her a new leo was so cute SO 

there was so much more that happened and i cant even remember right now it was all SO MUCH and there were definite low points and some rough patches and now my feet hurt SO BAD and i also caught con plague and slept in an airport last night but it was still just such an incredible weekend and im so ready and excited to get cracking on anime boston cosplay

once. i figure out what i wanna do for ab cosplay. 

[unextordinary-blog]

My year in one post: 2017

okay so its starting to get closer to the end of the year lets have a recap of 2017.

january: I don't have a job anymore, I am not going to school at the moment, I am moving for the hundredth time, and I have to give up my dog and cat, then someone loses my cat. ( so its safe to say january was definitely not my month) but bright side this is the month where i start to talk to my "future" husband. well sort of (this will be explained in a later month).

february: so it's a new month. I am jobless with no prospect of going back to school until the next semester. on top of that our landlords are total pieces of literal dog shit (like im not kidding they have about 5000 dogs in their house and it smells like dog shit) anyways life is starting to look up JUST THE TINIEST BIT because ya girl got a date. i am dating. newly dating. and on top of that i still don't know that my future husband is single yet. (he doesn't like the idea of me dating)

march: we have officially moved into my moms boyfriends house and i already hate it. Its awful i have no closet, no space, no job, no pets, and no will to live (except for my future husband). Its safe to say my life lowkey sucks because not only do i have a curfew now? I have to pretend to not hate my life and i actually have to get out of the bedroom im staying in (yea thats right im not allowed to call his guest bedroom "my room") my moms boyfriend is a total dickwad. he gets what he deserves in later months tho. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ( WAIT A MINUTE I just got some info that karma was doing her job all along and i completely forgot part of living with my momster and her dickwad was that I had to do all the chores around the house and dickwad left $200 in his pocket when i was doing laundry and i found it. in my defense i tried to tell them about the money but then they got on my ass for talking to them while they were talking or something so i shut up and spent some of the money on a tattoo. it was the best revenge ever. I had been planning on getting one for months and dickwad and momster HATE tattoos and he technically paid for mine and it was great)

April: HOMAGAWD my life is looking up. I got a job, my "future" husband is visiting and the guy I'm kinda sorta "dating" is a good kisser but i swear to y'all if i hadn't already been on like 4 dates with this guy i would have thought he was catfishing me (he ends up ghosting me anyways so whatevesss). My momster and her dickwad of a boyfriend don't like my new job because it doesn't pay a whole lot? ( oh i forgot to mention they want me to pay rent for the "bedrooom" I'm sleeping in; y'all this room is literally a bed, a dresser drawer, and MY TV) ALSO did i mention this guy is total pack rat (THE BEDROOM IM IN HAS ALLLL OF HIS JUNK IN IT) and there's no central heating and I'm sick. I have bronchitis and we barely found out. meanwhile my supposed "mother" thought I was just being annoying with my coughing and her stupid boyfriend literally had the AUDACITY to tell me if I don't get rid of my cough by the end of the week then he was going to "do something about it". (LIKE IM SORRY I HAVE BRONCHITIS IF I COULD WAVE MY MAGIC WAND THAT I JUST RANDOMLY PULLED OUT OF MY ARSE AND MAKE MYSELF BETTER I WOULD SORRY MY ILLNESS IS INCONVENIENCING YOU). this man is weird he has like every book written by trump and is a civil war reenactor and has can goods from before I was even born because he doesn't believe in expiration dates. so I didn't want to find out what he meant by that so I booked the quickest doctors appointment I could get. I had been sick for 3 months by this point. also I paid over half the rent at my old place but I was always making like $1000 a month sooooo I could afford it. anyways my "future" husband and I have an amazing 3 days when he visits it was like no time had passed and it wasn't until he was gone that I realized that I couldn't live without him anymore.

May: ITS OFFICIAL BITCHES my "future" husband is now my boyfriend, it literally took him an hour for me to say he was my boyfriend. twas a struggle. but pretty much since the day he left we hadn't gone a single day without talking via text or calling each other. we thought about waiting until he came back to texas to date, but that would be two years and we weren't having that because we would have ended up waiting for each other instead of dating long distance which is kinda a waste of time. anyways I am no longer sick. at least I don't think and karma is just DOING ITS WORK on my mom and her dickwad boyfriend. My mom was being treated like she deserved by her new job and dickwad had lost his chief position because hes an alcoholic asshole with little man syndrome now he is paying over $10,000 for a DWI lawyer. meanwhile i was thriving I was getting more work I was looking into ways to pay off my school my life still sucked and the only reason im alive is because of my "future" husband.

June: did i ever mention that june is my favorite month of this year. love is in the air bitches. june is the month for marriages and engagements. SPEAKING OF ENGAGEMENTS yea that's right he proposed AND ON TOP OF THAT he surprised me with a visit and i nearly had a heart attack and it was a great few days. then my momster ruined it by being her and by hating me as per usual we weren't asking for permission at this point to get married we were just going to get married whether she agreed or not. and i was moving out and my "future" husband and i had a 101 plans (also i dont like the word fiance its dirty and gross) our 101 plans obviously fell through you can plan all day long and life is just like "LOL gurl you thought" but it all turned out fine in and in our favor in the end. we are very thankful for the people who stuck by our side when things were getting tough and sooo grateful for all their help we wouldn't have been able to do it without them.

JULY: ITS OUR WEDDDDINNNGGG MONNNTTTTHHHHHHH!!!!!! I had never thought "hey you're going to be my husband one day" when I saw my husband for the first time in the 2nd grade. he apparently did, he thought i was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and was happy i had moved to his town. that innocent love obviously turned into something more as we got older and he always knew that something special would happen with us there had to be a reason God had kept us close all those years. we were married july 10th in a court house with our high school friends my momster and her dickwad boyfriend and my new family that consisted of my husbands parents and siblings while my maid of honor watch via facetime (she had work and the ceremony lasted like 20 mins) leading up to our wedding he "proposed" properly on the couch while we were watching a movie and his best friend was so upset that he was not included in the proposal. we promised to include him on our 5 year anniversary at our vow renewal. we were married on the 10th we had our honeymoon that night in galveston. on the 11th we went to our best mans house, watched hoarders all morning, played ping pong, went to go see a movie with our old clique from high school, slept on a too small air mattress with a too small blanket in freezing cold room and woke up early. he dropped me off at my momsters and we said our teary eyed goodbyes and said we'd see each other again in december and I watched him drive away to the air port. I turned 20 the next week and I had 1 good day then on the 18th my mom decided to yell at me and fight me about money (remember how i said i was trying to pay off my college stuff well my mom knew that. it was no secret. well i found a way and i had gotten the money the week i got married and i paid it off and put the rest in savings and refused to touch it) well my mom yelled at me until she was blue in the face because since dickwad fucked up his finances with his DWI they were now strapped for cash and wanted me to pay for everything and I refused. just because we said I'd move in december doesn't mean plans are set in stone and if I would have paid them in advance I would have never seen that money again. the risks were to high for me to pay that much in one sitting. so we argued on the 18th she didn't talk to me for two days then on the 21st she gave me an ultimatum and told me to pay or get out. meanwhile my husband and I were thinking ahead and I was already packing and by the 22nd all i had in the bedroom i slept in was a duffel bag of clothes and hamper full of my bedding I told her i was moving out on the 23rd on a sunday and by the time they got home from church me and everything i had would be gone from that house. remember my husbands best man and best friend and the small air mattress and cold bedroom?

August: they both had a house together and that was the house i stayed in until the second week or two of august i spent almost a week with my dad and his family so i could say my goodbyes. i came back to the guys house for 2 days finished packing said my goodbyes to all my friends and then my dad was there with a jeep for all my stuff and we would start our long trip to VA. the first day we drove from TX to atlanta then the next day atlanta to VA.

I was finally home. there he was my knight in blue digital camo. we'd only been married a month and already our plans were askew. my dad stayed for 2 extra days and helped us get settled into our new apartment then left.

september: we are 2 months into our marriage and our first month living together. these next two months will be the hardest months in our marriage. we're getting used to each other getting to know our homelife quirks it is a difficult transition for both of us I am used to an abusive passive aggressive household where i lock myself in my room and he is used to empty barracks and going out everyday just so he doesn't have to be in the barracks all day. it was hard but we wouldn't want to bicker over mundane things with anyone else.

October: its spoopy time and my husbands birthday is this month we have a tv and new bed for our master bedroom we have a cat but Im pretty sure we got him in september. we're not really fighting as much at least not about stupid things we know what pushes our buttons and we're communicating better. I have to turn down my first job because its too far of a drive. ( we immediately regret it) the hubs 21st birthday rolls around we have the worst mexican food ever and he has the strongest margarita in the world it was really a great night. Halloween we sit on the couch watching movies and just stay in all day.

November: my husbands family have informed us that his little brother will be graduating from boot camp this month and will be going to school on a base in VA and that they were coming for thanksgiving. so we get the house in order for our new guests. we buy everything from a thanksgiving ham to new towels when they arrive his parents are sick with the flu and my husband still has work the next day on thanksgiving. his mom and i spend the entire next day cooking and getting everything ready. when my husband gets home we have dinner and watch a movie or two. the next day is my husbands day off and we all had planned on eating out so we had lunch then went to the beach for his mom and then my husbands base to give a tour for his mom (insert eyeroll here the woman takes pictures of quite literally everything its almost annoying)and then finally we go back home so we can get his little brothers stuff and we can drop him off at his new base. (which is a whole lot more difficult then it should have been.) they end up giving him a weekend pass but by then we're all dead tired and want to go home but no, we go bowling on base until its time to take his little brother back to the barracks. then the next day is even more annoying my husband picks up his little brother and some breakfast and we trudge to a museum of an old ship for about 2 or 3 hours. keep in mind my husbands parents are still sick with the flu and everyone is tired except his little brother and my husband has work at 3am the next day. on top of that his parents need to get on a plane this same day and my husband and i need to drop off his little brother back on base. needless to say it was another long day and we finally had our house back my poor husband had work at 3am and around 9am i hear him come home apparently since he didn't leave early on thanksgiving he got to leave work early that day which meant we got the entire sunday to ourselves. it was a long weekend.

December: its only the 13th and we have been married for 5 months now and it will almost be a year since we started dating. (how time flies) his best man is supposed to visit in january and we are both so excited.

so much little stuff has happened this year that would make this post even longer. we got a motorcycle, my husband is trying to pick out a car for me i thought about doing online college, we both haven't really thought about what we want for christmas and our cat has fleas so its been a very eventful year.

[atypical60]

Well, I decorated the tree on Friday.  It wasn’t an easy feat because half the lights we had for the tree were no longer working so I ended up having to get out of my pajamas, getting dressed and driving to Walmart to purchase new lights.  I love the lights on the tree. It’s so weird but when the lights are turned on I love to squint my eyes and look at the tree out of focus—it looks dreamy that way.

The decorated tree.  It’s not themed. It isn’t fancy. It is simply a tree filled with memories in the form of ornaments!

Anyway, our decorated tree is not a fancy one.  There is no “theme” nor is there anything fancy or elegant about it.  Some years I wrap ribbon around the tree like garland.  Other years I adorn the tree with garland of little gold balls—that’s what’s I did this year.  There is really no rhyme or reason in the way the tree is decorated.

The tree is embellished with ornaments that I’ve had since my first Christmas in NYC at the apartment on Riverside Drive.  It was the first Christmas my ex-husband and I spent together. He wasn’t big on having a tree but I insisted.  I found our tree in the form of a beautiful fir that was sold down in the East Village.  The vendor was willing to sell a full, and very tall tree to me for $15.00.  But he was also quite cynical in the fact that I would have to drag the tree from the village up to the West Side.

Suffice it to say,  I looked pretty ridiculous dragging a huge Christmas tree on the NYC subway but it was well-worth it!

No problem—where there was a will, there was a way, and I dragged that tree down to the subway, and the huge tree rode the subway from 14th street up to 94th Street with me. The tree was ridiculously huge and heavy. But I didn’t care. I wanted the tree.  And I got it!

We had a “tree trimming party” that year and I still have a few of the ornaments.  One ornament, in particular, stands out to me and always brings fond memories when I hang it.  It’s a little golf ball with the image of Santa painted on the face.  Our friend, Steve Hartnack, gave it to us.  And the reason that I have fond memories with this ornament is that at the beginning of every Holiday Season, back when all of us were in our twenties, Steve hosted, right before Thanksgiving, a “Friendsgiving” dinner.  Hmmmm I think he may have actually invented Friendsgiving!  But it was a ton of fun.  I’ve lost touch with most of that group but the great thing is that I have wonderful memories. And those memories surface once a year as I go through the ritual of hanging the ornaments on the tree.

The infamous Santa Golf Ball Ornament from Steve.  This little nugget is almost 40 years old! Wow!  I can’t believe it!!

These ornamental memories are my ghosts of Christmas past—and they are happy ghosts that always bring a smile to my face, and also a sentimental tear or so.

Here are some of my ghosts!

I’ve always gotten ornaments that say something about my kids.  This guitar is for Roman. He’s my musician and has been playing guitar since he was in high school.  I think of him every year I hang this on the tree..

This ornament was  purchased at the 2007 Oireachtas, when Oona was 18. It was supposed to be her last Oireachtas.  She took a hiatus and went back as a Senior in College. But with each year when I hang his up, it brings back fun memories of her Irish Dance days!

Jake was our all-star baseball player!  He lived, breathed and ate baseball when he was younger.  I always think of him when this is hung up!

Oona was in 4th grade when she made this.  How pathetic am I that I still hang this torn, broken pretzel ornament?  Actually, I’m not pathetic.  I’ll hang this until the pretzels turn into crumbs!

It isn’t a tree ornament, but this was purchased way back in 1990 when Jake was 7 years old and Roman was 4.  I couldn’t resist because it looked like a cross between both boys.  It’s one of the ornaments I look forward to displaying each year!

Here’s another throwback to the ’90’s.  It’s an homage to my roots! 

This Polish Blessing I think was given to us from one of my ex-husband’s relatives.  I really should give it to him but I’m too selfish.  I think of Kielbasa, Pierogis and Texas Chocolate cake when I hang this up!

Barbie.  I HAD this Barbie doll back in 1959. I remember the day I got her. It was at Green Acres Shopping Center and I loved this first, of many Barbie’s so much and I think of the day I got this doll when I hang this ornament!

Statue of Liberty Claus!  You know what memories I have when I hang him!

And there are new ones too.

This was new last year, but it is already making memories of our trips to Paris and throughout France!!

This is a new one.  I love this little red truck. I have this red truck on a bowl too. But the memory this will give me is that it pays to discount shop.  I got this at Walmart for $1.97.  The same ornament is being sold at Ballard Designs for $12.95.  Yeah.  You read that right!

It’s funny how a simple action such as placing an ornament on a tree can evoke so many memories.  I think back of past Christmases and the history of family trees that we had.

All of these ornaments make for pause when decorating because of the memories I have–it takes me FOREVER to decorate the tree!

My mother, when she was in better days, always placed the “good” tree, the real one, in the living room upstairs.  That was the tree she would admire in the evening with a cup of tea. It was the one we were allowed to stand near as we had our photos taken.  Immediately upon unwrapping the gifts, and with five kids, there was a ton of paper floating around the house along with the toys Santa delivered, she would carry, in about ten trips, the presents we received and place them around the other tree. The one in the finished basement.

When we had a real tree….Can you spot the snowman ornament?  It was my all-time favorite as I was growing up!  

Is it any wonder that I love the color red and plaid?  This is how I grew up!  Check out the tinsel on the tree. My father was so particular about tinsel placement. I swear he spent at least three hours doing this–and none of us kids were allowed to assist!

This was the first fake UPSTAIRS tree that my parents got.  To me, it’s a sign that my parents not only were getting older, but that they weren’t well.  My mother was becoming ill and my dad suffered his first heart attack.  The tinsel placement isn’t good at all.  Funny how a tree can talk…

Now, this tree in the basement was a rather sad looking tree. It was spindly and thin and the branches were sparse—it was the saddest of all fake trees.  Next to the fake tree was a fake fireplace—in all its cardboard beauty.  I don’t remember any fake logs but I do remember a little multicolored foil spinner, so that when the spinner was plugged into an outlet, the foil reflected to appear as though a fake fire was burning in the cardboard fireplace.

Atop of the fake fireplace stood four felt and wire angels.  Each of the angels had a letter and when placed properly “NOEL” was spelled out.  I loved those angels and would play with them for hours.  The thing is, when I think back of that basement scene, it was kitschy and tacky—but as a child, I adored it.  And looked forward to every Christmas because it was like having my own little Christmas wonderland!

The Christmas Basement. So very 1960’s!!!  Note the drawing of the snowman ornament.  

With the kids all grown and living away from home–Roman in NYC, Jake in Los Angeles and Oona in Cincinnati, Christmas memories are different.  The memories are more about our time together and not about the gifts we receive.  Santa passes by without stopping these days.  Christmas morning isn’t an early wake up and a run downstairs to the tree.  It’s a sleep-in morning with a late breakfast and then the meal preparations.

But it’s all good.  Because when you get older you realize that Christmas is not about the presents but is about the present.  Our ghost of Christmas present makes sure we enjoy our time together.

What will the ghost of Christmas future bring?  Hopefully what the present brings—and will leave us with the gift of a strong memory of the great times we’ve had over the years!

For now, I’ll sit back and admire the tree–I’ll also have Bonaparte fix the crooked angel.  On second thought, I’ll keep her the way she is—it makes for a better memory!

I got this great pair of  fancy pants at Old Navy!  I’m wearing them on Christmas. Aren’t they great?  I’ve never worn anything this flashy in my life!!  But I couldn’t help it–and the price was great too!  What do you think?

From my Instagram feed!  These pants–I love them so much. They go so well with the Dulci suede shoes from J. Crew and a black Tippi Sweater!  The hair I’m wearing is Samala from Janet Collection!  Isn’t she pretty??

Remember the video I posted the other day?  John Roberts’ The Tree?  Here’s an even funnier one from him–and Debbie Harry is a riot! Last Year/Next Year/This Year

    My Ghosts of Christmas Past Well, I decorated the tree on Friday.  It wasn’t an easy feat because half the lights we had for the tree were no longer working so I ended up having to get out of my pajamas, getting dressed and driving to Walmart to purchase new lights.