#like the fan and the water and my neighbors. for some reason my brain is seriously like omfg what if that's the siren?!!?!?!!?!

[illogicalghost]

hm i think my anxiety may be getting worse. i should probably do something about that. or i could keep ignoring it 🤪

[wuxiaphoenix]

On Writing: Exercise Me

All right, 20 laps around the keyboard, stat!

...I kid. And yet, not so much. Writing is mentally very demanding work. It’s easy to slump, exhausted from beating your head against a mental wall, and not get your muscles and bones moving. This, is a mistake.

I say that being absolutely no fan of exercise, mind. I don’t like running, swimming pools eat holes in my feet, and any kind of climbing activates the Fear of Heights status debuff. I do like the stray walk, but ever-grumpier allergies have made that dicey. Pacing inside, though, is possible. I should do it more often. For multiple reasons.

First and foremost, we writers live so much in our heads we often neglect the fact that actually, we have a body and it needs certain maintenance. If you want to write for the long term, you need to look after things. Move those stiff joints. Lift those lead feet. Get your blood out of your brain and circulating in the rest of your body. Move; gently, but move. At least get your hands warm. If that’s not a lot of exercise, fine; do a little more later. Like writing a story 200 words at a time. Eventually you will get somewhere.

Second, spending precious spare time exercising is not wasted time. It’ll make the time you do spend writing more productive.

(Something I have to keep telling myself over and over and over again.)

The human body is an interesting if sometimes slipshod creation. Exercise produces mild muscle tears; your body makes HGH to grow muscle back stronger. But your body is, as I said, slipshod, and sometimes takes a very shotgun approach to... everything. The same hormone that fixes up muscle also affects the brain, keeping it in better condition as well. “Sound mind in sound body” has lasted as a saying for reasons.

Third, and related - sometimes if you’ve hit a wall writing it’s because you’ve run out the time limit on how long your brain can focus on one thing. Spend 15-20 minutes away from it moving and not thinking, you might reset enough to work again.

Fourth, it helps action scenes. I’ll never be Keanu Reeves, able to actually pull off John Wick-style moves. But I can get my blood pumping, my heart racing, my breath dragging in more air. All of this helps give real edge to, “my character is in danger!”

(If you have a stick or bokken you might be able to also work out some “character has to move this way” of the fight. Just... make sure you have a big clear space, first. And not one neighbors might wander into. Oops.)

Don’t neglect gentle shoulder stretches. You know what happens when you hunch over the keyboard too long!

Sleep, water, food, exercise. You need it all. Writers aren’t plants!

....Even if some of us are a bit bananas.

[the-eclectic-fox]

Am I doing it right?

Been a while.

I was having a hard time posting things because my brain went “am I doing this right? Am I bothering people by using this wrong?” Yes, I was concerned that I was using Tumblr wrong. How TF do you use it wrong? In other news my anxiety has been through the roof for the past few months.

After the last convention it’s sadly time for a business reset. My formula was working for a while, not super great - but it worked. Well, last convention it stopped working. Usually my original art sells better than fanart, which is why I stopped doing fanart. Not this time, that’s pretty much all people were looking for. Prints don’t sell really well, which has been coming. To compete with that I have decided the only prints I will do are limited runs. From here on out any print will get a run of 5 and then no more. All prints will be marked with which of the series of 5 it is.

Stickers went great, so I started redoing the old stickers I still like and might start working on some new ones. But also, my neighbor at the con sold acrylic keychains and lanyards and recommended the site! So on top of stickers I might make lanyards to match designs.

Fan Art will be coming back. Mostly popular anime, just to see how it goes over, maybe make some cute/kinky keychains. I’m excited to come up with lanyard patters for some reason, I already have a few ideas to match them up to the LGBTQ dice stickers.

My system is still trying to bounce back from the convention (joys of being chronically ill), even my voice is STILL scratchy. I wasn’t sick, it was a weird combination of dry hotel (I woke up every hour or so to get a drink), cold arena, dusty arena, going from super cold arena to 33degree weather, then out to my parents with 2 cats and a dog and 3 smokers in one place. When I got home I had NO voice, but I had no other symptoms. Oh, and since it’s spring - that means allergies and I get an allergy cough and runny nose! I’m still scratchy and sniffly. Once my voice is back I will be getting back to streaming, but I’m basically glued to my (new super cute) water bottle, so streaming isn’t on the books yet.

I also have big plans for my website (theeclecticfox.squarespace.com), which I was starting to work on today but my printer rebelled so I have to let it sit for a day or so and dry out. Apparently this model of printer has one issue straight across the board. God damn sponge. There is a sponge inside you have to repeatedly get updated and repaired cause it absorbs too much ink and then just started fucking up prints. This is definitely going to slow down a LOT of work (prints, stickers, website update, etc) and that does frustrate the hell out of me.

So, if I’m irritating and using Tumblr wrong ...sorry?

[thismaydestroyme]

Little Did I Know

Summary: In this short story Harry is famous, and he moved into a town during the summer to relax and potentially write some new songs for his upcoming album. I’m not sure if I’ll include some song lyrics, but if I do, I will take a piece of a lyric from a different song and pretend it’s his. 

Word Count: 2,272

“Sweetie, can you walk Cosmo?” Y/N hears her mom shouting from downstairs. 

“Yes, mom!” She says.  

Y/N is on her bed with her headphones on due to having a neighbor who’s living across her street who just moved in. For the past weeks there’s been a lot of moving trunks and ruckus because there’s a musician living among them. 

Y/N is a 21 year old girl who wants to be part of the music industry, but she doesn’t know shit. All she knows is that she loves music, and music is part of her. It was her dad that introduced her to music, like music that was before her time. Like Billie Holiday, Frank Sintra, The Rolling Stone, Queen, Otis Redding, Nirvana, The Knack, Elton John, The Doors, The Clash and so many more. That’s all she knew and all she wanted was to find a way to have that without having to know how to play the instruments, knowing how to sing. She simply just wants to go wherever the music takes her. 

She finally drags herself out of bed and starts putting on her sneaker and throwing on an oversized hoodie. She swaps her earbuds to her airpods and off to walk her dog. 

She walks down the stairs heavily which alerts her mother, and before she gets to the last step her mother hands her Cosmo’s leash. 

“Ugh. Couldn't you do - sorry mom.” She reaches for the leash that’s in her mom’s hand. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, darling.” She says giving her daughter a peck on her left cheek. 

Y/N bends over to put the leash on Cosmo’s neck, which Cosmo gives her a lick on her face. Y/N loves this dog of hers. He provides her safety and security, which she needs because let’s just say she has a breakdown every couple of days. 

Y/N stands back up and gives Cosmo a nice tug so he knows he’s ready for his next adventure. By adventure it means walking around the block she’s been doing for the past three years since Y/N got him. 

It’s around 3 o’clock which means the summer heat is hitting hard right about now. But it’s too hot to harm Cosmo in any way. Cosmo is the love of Y/N life. 

Cosmo and Y/N went on their typical route which they go past their new neighbor's house. Y/N realizes the new neighbor door is a jar, and she can smell bacon, which isn’t good for Cosmo because he’ll tend to escape and run towards the delicious smell he knows so much about. To Y/N not so surprise Cosmo started tugging on his leash that has Y/N being yanked and pulled. 

“Cosmo. Stop it right now!” Y/N shouts to Cosmo which she knows that wouldn’t help a damn thing. When he has something in mind there’s no stopping him. Cosmo has to be on something because it’s like he’s on some x game mode. Y/N starts tripping on her own feet and losing her own balance. 

They were running in the middle of streets when they received some honks and screams at fellow drivers on the road. Which Y/N give them a nice finger and simple “fuck off.” Y/N let’s go Cosmo leash because she isn’t in the mood to eat shit, so when she felt safe nothing could happen to Cosmo she let him go.

Cosmo went straight towards the slight jar front door, which I had to pick up my steps. Before Y/N could even be on the same street as the house, the new neighbor came out his house, holding Cosmo’s leash quite aggressively which had Y/N switch her mode to attack mode. 

“Hey, what the fuck? you didn’t have to pull him like that?” Y/N says aggressively while walking towards the house, when she gets in a hand reach, she pulls the leash so the neighbor doesn’t have his grubby hand on the leash. 

Oh you want to know Y/N neighbor? It happily to be Harry Styles. Forgot to include that in, sorry. 

“Are you getting mad at me? your dog happened to be in my house without any guardian. Your dog jumped on my couch, which I’m not too fond of. So anyone here who should be a little bit bitchy, it should be me.” Harry says hostile. He’s wearing a wife beater shirt that has his arms tattoos on display. For his lower part he’s wearing a nice black booty short which shows off that magnificent tiger tattoo. “Are you just going to stand there?” He snaps back. 

Y/N brought her eyes back to him which Y/N doesn’t approve of his tone. Y/N scuffs and rolls her eyes to the back of her head. “Sorry for your inconvenience. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Y/N plants a fake smile on her face. “C’mon Cosmo, let’s go, but this time I'm walking you.“ Y/N whispers to Cosmo while turning around to continue their walk with a small intermission they encountered. After a couple of steps Y/N turned her head around and when she did Harry was still standing there with annoyance on his face, which Y/N turned her head back around. 

“He’s going to be fun.” 

***

It took Y/N twenty minutes to walk her dog today. She wanted Cosmo to enjoy himself which he did because he saw a lot of squirrels today, and on top of that she didn’t want to ‘run’ into Harry again. Y/N should be excited to have a big celebrity living among them, and hopefully she could get reinspired about her future, but unfortunately that isn’t the case. Probably Harry is just having a bad day, and last year and the beginning of this year he had a lot of things going on. He’s officially a grammy winner, he filmed two movies, his latest album Fine Line has been doing phenomenally well, he was the first male to have appeared solo on Vogue magazine,  he was announced Hitmaker of the year, and so many more. So maybe he just needed to get his energy back, which Y/N understood. But man, it really had to be their first impression. 

When Y/N and Cosmo took a turn to walk to their front door, Y/N couldn’t help but to look across the street to see if Harry was there or not. Surprisingly he was, and he’s looking right at her. Y/N looked at his lips while he blew out a smoke. Fuck, he smokes?! 

Y/N doesn’t understand why he’s looking at her, but she doesn’t give a shit because the way he’s looking at her was his way of trying to figure her out. Whatever that fucking means. 

She broke eye contact and flipped her head around to her front door. She starts digging her hand in her pocket to fetch her keys out. Cosmo starts barking because the keys jiggles so he thought it was a new toy. “Oh you hash it.” She got the keys and shove it in the lock. Thank god, her mother didn’t lock the top of the door. 

The door finally releases and Cosmo immediately runs through, probably heading to his water bowl. “Thanks sweetie for walking Cosmo for me.” Y/N hears her mom in the kitchen probably smothering Cosmo. “Yep. I would say anytime, but I would be lying.” She says while walking up the stairs to head to her room. “Fuck off.” Her mother giggles. “I love you too.” That was the last thing Y/N said before she shut her door.

Y/N takes off her beat up vans and soon after plops on her unmade bed. Y/N stared at the few holes on the ceiling due to having a young Leonardo DiCaprio poster on her ceiling when she was younger. Young Leo hits different. 

Y/N couldn’t help it, but her brain went back to her small and rough interaction with Harry. She wished she met him on a  better note, but fuck it. But how could she move on from him? She’s a fan of his music and his viewpoint on the world. He’s a man of few word, but when he does talk, it’s fucking loud and impactful. He’s the main reason she took a few steps back off of social media. She’s barely on it, but when she does go on it, she isn’t on there for long like she used to. 

An hour went by and her mother started knocking on her door and then she came in. “You know mother, the purpose of knocking is to see if you're welcome to enter the space.” Y/N says nonchalantly sitting up to see her mother, but at the same time trying to hold in her laugh. 

“Well, if you want to contribute to paying the bills, I’ll happily reconsider waiting to be called on.” Her mother threw back. “Nope. You’re good.” Y/N says shaking her head. 

“Mmmmhh. Well, I’m going to hang out with the girls from work. Do you want me to make you something before I go?” That’s one thing Y/N loves about her mother, she is so selfless and she always makes sure I’m good before she wants to do something for herself. 

“I’m good. Enjoy your night.” Y/N gave her mom a smile to know she’ll be alright. “If you’re sure, then I’m off,” Her mom says all happily. “If you need anything just text me. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Y/N got up to give her mom a nice, strong hug. “love you.” Y/N whispers. “Love you more beautiful.” We pull back and she’s off to the race. 

Y/N walks to her window to pull the blind. She sometimes likes looking out her window and just stares off into space. Something about watching people live their life comforts her. She loves people watching. 

Y/N found herself mumbling some words, while people watching, but she couldn’t help but stop her little rampage. Y/N feels heavy and she’s unable to even grasp the concept, so when she starts feeling that way she tends to start saying random things. It could be something she could use in the future. To make sure she doesn’t forget she whip out her phone to go to the notes app where she has a folder filled with random words and sentences. There are things in there that could potentially be useful like, “More or less a painful experience. Only ever real if you're delirious. the summer before you,” “I think you're gonna be my biggest fan.” So on and so forth. That’s what the folder is filled with fragments and potentially some song lyrics. 

Y/N tossed her phone to her bed, and left her phone to bother Cosmo downstairs. Y/N loves that sucker. Before Y/N could even smother him with love, he’s currently sleeping on his bed in the corner of the living room. 

Fucking great. 

Y/N just wanted something to do, and her damn dog couldn’t give her that. She looks at the clock on the wall in the living room and it’s currently 6 almost to be seven. Y/N could go upstairs and ask one of her friends to hangout, but she doesn’t want that. The best alternative could be taking a walk and seeing where her feet take her. She likes that option better, so she quietly went upstairs so she doesn’t wake up Cosmo.

Y/N changes her attire to ripped oversized mom jeans, an oversized graphic tee she bought on Depop and once again her infamous black and white vans. She grabs her airpods, and her keys. She’s finally ready for the evening. 

Y/N went back downstairs to check on Cosmo and make sure he has food and water ready for him just in case he wakes up while she’s still gone. When she felt everything was in order she ended straight to the door. 

The weather feels astronomically better than before which had Y/N feel much better with her decision. Y/N isn’t sure if she should take the right or left. If she decides on taking a right she’ll pass Harry’s house, but if she does decide to take a left she wouldn’t. Y/N starts going back and forth, but she decides on going left. 

There was a nice breeze in the summer air, and she’s listening to “I’m a Slave 4 U” by the one and only Britney fucking Spears. “What's practical is logical. What the hell who cares. All I know is I'm so happy. When you're dancing there. I'm a slave 4 U.” Y/N finds herself singing to herself. She’s been walking around aimlessly and rocking out to her songs for about thirty minutes. She’s aware she’s probably creating attention to herself, but she couldn’t find herself to care. Y/N is enjoying herself. 

“I’m a SLAVE FOR YOU!” Y/N shouts out with her eyes pinch shut, when she finally opens them she finds herself in front of Harry’s house. The worst part wasn't that she was walking in a circle. It wasn’t that she belted out to her songs. It wasn’t she was flinging her body around like she was the balloon thingy at the cars dealership shop. Nope. None of those. 

The worst fucking part is, Harry Fucking Styles is currently outside watching her. Fucking watching her. Once again fucking smoking. Again.

[flightfoot]

Friendship and Uncertainty

AO3 Thanks to @oblivionhold for betaing!

Marinette really didn't have a lot of great options in Prime Queen. She couldn't tell Nadja and her parents "Oh yeah, sorry, I double-booked myself as Ladybug, my bad! Guess my parents are gonna have to babysit instead!" And if she'd tried to make up an excuse about being busy, with how last-minute it was and how urgently Nadja needed childcare, I don't think her parents would've accepted it.

Her only viable alternative option would've been to cancel her interview with Nadja at the last-minute, citing some last-minute conflict with her civilian schedule. She could've transformed during a bathroom break, texted Chat, and told him as much, leaving him to interview with Nadja alone. I'd argue that this would've been the most responsible option, but not necessarily the best one. With how much the network was pressuring her, Nadja may have landed in hot water if she couldn't get one of her guests on, and Chat would've been disappointed as well.

The plan Marinette came up with in canon was her best shot at fulfilling all her responsibilities without anyone being mad or disappointed or hung out to dry. Manon got looked after by someone Marinette knew was a good babysitter, she got to go to the interview, and no one would have any clue things were remiss... at least, that was her plan. In canon, things got dicey for a bit with Alya calling into the show, but ultimately no one discovered Marinette had left the premises, and everyone was mostly happy.

But it was risky, and things could easily have gone wrong. Hence, this story.

It gives me a good reason to explore Alya feeling hurt and exploring her emotions while sticking closely to canon. There aren't a lot of fics that do that.

--------

“Where is she?” 

Alya looked down at Manon. Nadja was worried about Marinette not being in the picture when she called, and she couldn’t blame her. Bringing over a friend to help babysit as well, or taking over babysitting momentarily while the hired babysitter was busy was one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.

Marinette had seemed weirdly anxious about talking to her parents. She’d chalked it up to Marinette being nervous about whatever she’d needed to tell them, but…

She let out a frustrated sigh. Marinette hadn’t even told her why she needed to talk to them so urgently. It almost felt like she was making up an excuse to ditch her with Manon.

“Marinette wouldn’t do that,” Alya murmured to herself. “She’d tell me if she needed me to cover for her, right?”

But the thought wouldn’t leave her brain.

Manon yawned.

Gears turned in Alya’s head. “Hey Manon, before you fall asleep, how about we go downstairs so you can use the bathroom?”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep!” Manon said, yawning again. But she stood up shakily and headed for the stairs, following Alya.

-----

As Alya waited for Manon to finish in the bathroom near the kitchen, she heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. Seizing on the opportunity, she hurried over (while keeping near enough that she could still hear when Manon opened the bathroom door).

“Ah, Alya!” Tom greeted her. “Did you kids need some snacks?”

“No, but-” Oh what the hell, why not? “Actually, that sounds great.”

“Anything for my daughter! And her friends of course,” he said, cheerily grabbing a few of hers and Marinette’s favorite cookies. 

“Speaking of Marinette, what’d she want to talk to you about?” she said, as casually as she could manage.

“She wanted to talk to me about something?” Tom asked, sounding perplexed.

“Maybe I just misheard her,” Alya said hastily. “I was playing with Manon and things got a little loud.”

Tom looked troubled. “Well, just let her know that if she needs to talk to me about anything, her papa is always willing to lend an ear.” She could almost see a lightbulb turn on above Tom’s head. “Oh! I’ve got a batch of Marinette’s favorite cookies in the oven right now! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. If you can send her down then, we can talk this out, see what’s troubling her! And if it was a mistake, well, I’ll never say no to watching her face when she bites into a strawberry macaron.”

Alya slapped on a smile. “Will do!”

The toilet flushed. 

“That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Mr. Dupain!”

“Anytime!”

She walked to the bathroom on autopilot.

Marinette had lied.

------

“I’m so sorry Alya! I had no idea it would take so long to talk to my parents!” 

Alya didn’t look at her. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked tonelessly.

“Uh, you know… family stuff,” Marinette sounded nervous. 

Alya turned to her. “Marinette, I know you weren’t with your parents.”

“I- uh-”

“I went downstairs earlier and asked your dad what you two talked about, but he said he didn’t talk to you at all. Your dad wanted me to tell you that if you need to talk with him about anything, he’s willing to lend an ear. The batch of strawberry macarons he was making should be ready by now.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.

“Alya, I’m- I’m really sorry-”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk with you about it right now,” she said evenly. “If I do, I might raise my voice, and I don’t want Manon to see us fighting.”

Marinette winced, glancing at the sleeping girl.

“Um… could we talk tomorrow…?” Marinette asked, sounding small. 

Alya nodded stiffly. Not like she could avoid it, tomorrow was a school day. 

As she headed down the ladder, she paused and looked up, “Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t let anyone know you left. I’m still not happy you ditched me, but I didn’t rat you out.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started to stammer something. Alya shut the hatch.

Alya squeezed her eyes tight, letting out a small sob.

At that last moment, she’d been tempted to stay. To hear Marinette out. To see whether maybe, maybe, she had a good explanation. Some sort of excuse.

But she couldn’t.

If she stayed, with Marinette looking at her like that, clearly hurting… she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her. Not when she felt worse than Alya herself did.

Alya wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hurt yet. Not so soon.

Pausing only to text Nora that she was heading home, she hurried out the door.

------

“Little sis?”

Alya quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before Nora saw her.

It didn’t work.

“What happened? Who hurt you?” Nora asked, grabbing her shoulders. 

“No one!”

Even to her own ears, it sounded false.

Nora frowned. “Really? Your eyes are red, and I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. You really expect me to believe that?”

She looked away.

“Hey, look, little sis-” Nora said softly.

“Don’t call me that.” She couldn’t muster up the energy to put any heat behind her words. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Promise not to go after her?”

Nora blinked. “Her? ...wait, you were just at Baguette’s place- did something happen with Marinette?”

“Promise me,” she insisted.

Nora grimaced, before sighing. “Fiiiiine. Can I at least yell at her?”

“No. I want to handle this myself.”

“If you’re sure, little sis.”

Alya made a face, but explained what’d happened. How Marinette had called her over, ditched her with an excuse about her parents, how she’d learned Marinette was lying, everything.

“-and I just. I don’t understand why,” she finished. “I help her out all the time! Heck, I’ve even helped babysit Manon before! Why’d she lie to me?” She looked down at her lap, her fists tightening as she squeezed her pants legs, needing to get energy out. “I just- I feel used.”

Nora pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into the pressure, listening to her sister’s heartbeat.

“Remember back in Martinique, with Maya?” Alya murmured.

“The neighbor girl?”

Alya nodded. “We played together a lot when I was a little. But sometimes… sometimes she’d get demanding, saying that if I didn’t do what she wanted - play some game she wanted, pick a role she wanted me to, whatever - she’d say that if I didn’t do it, she wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. There weren’t a lot of other kids my age in the area, so I agreed.” She gave a small smile. “Until one time she went too far. I stormed home in tears, scared that she wouldn’t play with me anymore, but not able to take it anymore.” Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, she continued. “You know what Mom did when she heard? When I told her how afraid I was that Maya wouldn’t want to play with me anymore? She told me to just wait. Less than an hour later Maya was knocking at the door, asking if I would come out to play. I stopped being afraid of her threat after that, and she stopped using it. I could say no.”

“I’m guessing this feels similar?” Nora said.

Alya nodded. “But it’s also weird! With Maya I understood what she was after. With Marinette, I don’t. Did she just really not want to babysit? Where’d she even go? And why-” Alya hesitated. “Why did she risk this? What was so important? Marinette, she- she doesn’t always think through other people’s feelings, but she DOES care about people! She doesn’t like hurting others! So why-”

Nora shook her head. “It’s no use speculating, you’ll just get your head turning ‘round and ‘round in circles ‘til you don’t know up from down. Just ask her tomorrow.”

Biting her lip, Alya sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight after all this.”

Nora smiled, pulling out a DVD from… okay she really wanted to know when Nora had hollowed out a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy collection, because on the one hand that was SUPER cool, and on the other hand it physically hurt her to see a book damaged like that. 

“I was saving this for your birthday,” Nora said, oblivious to Alya’s crisis, “But I think you need it now.”

She looked at the movie, letting out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal. “Majestia’s Early Days - Collector’s Edition?! How’d you even get this? I camped out on the website all day trying to snag a copy! They sold out in seconds,” she scowled, “Damn scalpers.”

Nora laughed. “Having fans can really come in handy. After one of my matches, I mentioned how bummed out my little sis was about not being able to get her hands on a copy. The next day one of my regular fans handed this to me, said he hoped you’d enjoy it.”

“If you see him again, tell him that he’s a wonderful person with excellent taste in boxers!”

Nora laughed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Alya bet her own grin dwarfed even Nora’s. 

“Let’s watch Majestia kick some ass.”

-----

“Alya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring down at the floor for the past minute, looking like your dogs just got kidnapped by subterranean monsters and you’re trying to figure out how to get them back and why they’d want them in the first place.”

She stifled a laugh. “You come up with that for one of your movie scripts?”

He adjusted his cap, grinning proudly. “No, but now that you mention it…”

“Do you even know anyone with a dog?”

“Maybe a shelter would help out? They’re always looking for more exposure. We could put a note during the credits that the pups are available for adoption!”

Hm… she could advertise their film on her blog too, maybe ask whether any of her readers worked at a local dog shelter…

“We could talk to Marinette, see whether she’d be up for making a monster costume! Or if she’s too busy, Halloween’s coming up and- Alya?”

She blinked, only just now noticing how tightly she’d been squeezing her shirt in her hands. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Nino frowned. “No, you’re not.”

She looked away. 

Nino slid into the seat next to her. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clearly hurting you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. If you just want to go back to talking about something unrelated to it, something fun, to keep your mind off it, I’m happy to oblige. But I’m always here to lend an ear if you need it.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Marinette called me over last night, wanted me to watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir interview with her. She also happened to be babysitting Manon, and thought it’d be more fun if we were all there together. Everything was fine at first,” she said, fidgeting. “I played around with Manon for a bit, Marinette got some pillows to lay on, and we got set up to watch the interview. Then Marinette said she needed to talk to her parents and that she might be gone for a while.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “I waited for a while, but… no Marinette. Finally, I went downstairs and checked with her dad. He didn’t know anything about it. As far as he knew, she’d been upstairs in her room with me the entire time. Marinette came back a little while later, pretending that her talk with her parents had gone super long and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I left. I said I’d talk with her about it today, but…”

“But you don’t feel ready now either?” Nino guessed.

She nodded. “I just keep on turning it around and around in my head. It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Marinette makes up excuses and disappears sometimes, but…” Something niggled in the back of her brain. “Hey Nino,” she asked carefully, trying to catch the strand of thought. “Has Marinette always been like this? Running off at a moment’s notice with fake-sounding reasons?”

Nino scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We’ve been in classes before, but we weren’t exactly close. I don’t think so? I think I would’ve noticed that. Not like we had akuma attacks distracting us last year.”

“Akuma attacks...” she murmured to herself.

There it was again. That niggling sensation, but even stronger this time. 

*Slam*

Marinette threw the classroom door open, pinwheeling her arms as she struggled to regain her balance. 

“AAAAAAH-”

At the last second as she fell backwards, Adrien seemed to almost teleport through the door, catching her.

Nino smiled. “I swear Adrien has a ‘Marinette falling’ sense. He always arrives just in time to catch her.”

Alya snorted. “Now if only he had a ‘Marinette feeling’ sense.”

Frowning, Alya tried to grasp onto the threads of thought from before, but they’d scampered with the distraction. 

“...Can I sit here?” a soft voice asked.

Alya jumped a little, then scolded herself. She’d just seen Marinette arrive, she shouldn’t be able to startle her less than a minute later.

Nino got up slowly, giving Marinette a hard look, but moving to his regular seat without comment.

Marinette didn’t move. 

Oh. Marinette was waiting for her permission, not just for Nino to leave.

“Sure. I mean, you sat here first,” Alya said. “I’m not the Queen of Seats.”

Marinette snorted at the reference, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards.

Alya narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but from this close, she could see the bags under eyes, along with a slight puffiness.

Guilt settled in her stomach. She was pretty sure she knew why Marinette wouldn’t have gotten enough sleep, why she would’ve been crying.

“But she broke my trust!” part of her screamed. “She lied to me, used me!”

She still didn’t like seeing her friend hurt.

“So?” She asked as Marinette slid into her seat.

“So what?” Marinette asked nervously.

Alya narrowed her eyes. 

Marinette bit her lip. “I- I’m not sure what to say. I- I lied to you. You’re right. I called you over because I’d accidentally double-booked myself, but I couldn’t just TELL Nadja that and I couldn’t cancel on no notice, so I just… came up with what I thought was the best solution. Manon would get taken care of, Nadja, Mom, and Dad wouldn’t know anything unusual had happened, and I’d be back before you noticed anything was wrong. Everyone would be happy! At least, that’s what I planned…” she petered off, looking away.

She could get what Marinette was thinking now, when she called her over. Sometimes you couldn’t do the things you wanted without disappointing someone, without someone being upset with you. But if you lined things up just right, you might not need to upset anyone - so long as they never found out what you’d done. 

It still stung that Alya had been the tool she used to solve her problem, but at least she understood Marinette’s thought process. 

“What was so important?” she asked. “What was so vital that you had to sneak out, even if it meant lying to your friends and family?”

Marinette flinched. “I- I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alarm bells rang in Alya’s head. “What do you mean?” she said urgently. “Is someone threatening you? Marinette, are you in danger?”

“No!” She thought for a moment. “Yes? Kind of? Not- not the way you’re thinking of!” she added hastily.

She didn’t know what she was thinking. Drugs? Gangs? A cult that’d ensnared Marinette in its clutches?

“Can I have your attention please?” Ms. Bustier said.

Alya turned to the front of the class, head still spinning. She still wasn’t totally sure how she felt about what Marinette had done, but she had bigger worries.

Something was wrong with Marinette. 

-----

That girl could be slippery when she wanted to be. 

She managed to avoid talking to Alya for the rest of Bustier’s class, not responding to any note-passing and hurrying out of the classroom the second the bell rang. With Marinette going home for lunch she had little opportunity to talk to her then, and as for their next period… Alya may be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. No talking in Ms. Mendeleiv’s class.

With a sigh, she watched Marinette run out of Francois-Dupont, somehow managing to take the stairs two at a time without falling. Clearly whatever it was, Marinette didn’t want to talk about it. 

But if it was hurting her…

She shook her head. She’d been thinking about this all day. It was time to get her mind off it, do something else. 

Nodding, she turned towards the park. Maybe some time climbing trees would help take her mind off things. And if it didn’t, it’d at least give her practice catching her siblings when they inevitably got themselves stuck in some high-up area. She could swear they had teleportation skills that they’d been hiding their whole lives just to prank the rest of the family with.

Chuckling to herself, she almost missed the flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

She whipped around. “Ladybug?!” 

The superhero froze, looking caught out. “Alya!” she said, sounding strangled. “What’re you doing here?” 

She shrugged. “Just enjoying the weather,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Would you be up for another interview?”

Ladybug started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence. “No, NOPE, nada, absolutely not!” she said, making an “X” with her arms for emphasis. “Not after yesterday. Not happening.”

She stashed her phone. “You just want to talk off the record then?”

The superheroine’s eyes widened a fraction. She nodded. “There’s… there’s something I could use your advice on.”

Something fluttered in Alya’s chest. Her idol needed her help? “I’ll do what I can,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

After going to a secluded part of the park, Ladybug turned to her. “You know a lot about superheroes right? About how we have to maintain a double life?”

Alya nodded. “It’s a comic book staple. Often causes a lot of trouble for the hero, but not as much as having their identity leaked to the world.”

“Yeah, I know what that trouble’s like,” Ladybug muttered to herself. Speaking more loudly, she looked at Alya. “I- I messed up. Badly. I forgot that I’d-” She paused. “Sorry, I need to be careful about this. I don’t want to expose myself.”

Alya nodded. 

After a minute, Ladybug tried again. “I needed to do something as Ladybug, but as a civilian, I’d already agreed to another responsibility at the same time,” she said carefully. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I needed to do something Ladybug-related without spilling my secret identity, but I also couldn’t get out of my civilian responsibility so I- I tricked someone into doing it instead. And they found out and they’re mad at me and I can’t BLAME them but I can’t tell them everything and I just don’t know what to do!” She looked at Alya pleadingly.

Her stomach twisted. “Seems to be a lot of deception going on lately,” she muttered, surprising even herself with how bitter she sounded. She blinked as Ladybug winced. 

Stop projecting your feelings about the sleepover onto Ladybug’s situation, they’re not the same! She scolded herself.

What would she do in Ladybug’s shoes? She couldn’t tell anyone her identity. She’d still want to be friends with this person. Just heaping on lies would make it worse when those came to light, alienating the friend (or former friend) even further.

“Have you explained as much as you could why you did it without giving away your secret identity?” Alya asked slowly. “Just… let them know that you do care about them, that you didn’t lie to them lightly, that you care about your feelings and you didn’t have a lot of options.” Ah, screw it. Maybe it was just because it’d been recent and she was still hurting and worried, but perhaps hearing it would help Ladybug with her own friend problems. “One of my friends recently tricked me into covering for her,” she said. “I’m still not sure why.”

“O-oh, really?” Ladybug said… nervously? Probably because it reminded her of her own friend.

“She vaguely explained to me why,” she continued. “What she was thinking and feeling at the time. She had another commitment too, but she didn’t tell me what it was.” She let out a deep sigh. “At least she didn’t lie about it - I think. I’d rather she not tell me, than lie about it.” A pebble sat near her shoe. Absentmindedly, she kicked it. “With how distraught she was when she explained it... I think she was sincere. That she doesn’t view me as a tool. That she was just in a tough spot,” she said. “That helps a lot.”

“I- I did explain,” Ladybug said, hope lifting her voice. “I think she believed me.”

Alya nodded. “In that case… I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Give her space, and try to avoid doing it again if you can.” She bit her lip. “Which might not be totally under your control considering Hawkbutt.” 

Ladybug stifled a giggle. 

She gave a small smile, snorting at her own joke. “Anyway, could I ask you a favor? So long as you don’t have any other commitments already, I don’t want to land you in hot water with anyone else,” she added hastily.

“Nothing to do with the Ladyblog, right?” Ladybug asked suspiciously.

As much as she’d like that… “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually, it has to do with a friend of mine. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh- NOPE never heard that name in my life! Who’s Marinette?” Ladybug said hastily, gesticulating wildly.

Huh. Weird. She could’ve sworn that Marinette had mentioned meeting Ladybug before, but come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single instance of Marinette and Ladybug being in the same place at the same time-

Never mind, there was that time with Alix’s race. But if that was the only time, no wonder Ladybug didn’t remember her. She wasn’t even sure that anyone had said Marinette’s name while Ladybug was within earshot.

Aaaaaand there was that niggling sensation again. She wished it’d either divulge what it was getting at or leave her alone. 

She whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture she and Marinette had taken together a couple months ago. “Marinette’s my best friend,” she said, surprising herself with how sure she sounded. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now, but… well, I’m still worried about her. She was the one who lied to me yesterday, and when I confronted her about it, she said something about not having a choice. It sounds like she’s in danger but she won’t tell me from what, and I’m not sure what could be the problem and… I’m just worried.” Looking up from her phone, she locked eyes with the superhero. “Could you check up on her, please? Maybe she’d talk to you even if she wouldn’t talk to me. And- and even if she doesn’t, I’d feel better if a superhero was looking out for her.”

“You really care about her, huh?,” Ladybug said, giving her a soft smile. “Even though you’re fighting.”

She nodded. “I’m not happy with her, and there are some things we still need to work out, but- yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re a good friend, Alya. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll look after her as best I can.”

“Buginette?” a boy’s voice called. A black figure landed next to Ladybug, crouched in the classic superhero landing pose, one knee bent, one hand punching the ground.

Oooh, new Ladyblog idea! Top ten Chat Noir poses! Seriously, that cat could be a model with the way he effortlessly mugged for the camera.

Ladybug groaned. “Did I forget the time already?” 

“It’s fine,” Chat said, resting his stick on his shoulders. “Waiting made seeing you all the sweeter.”

The spotted heroine groaned again, for a different reason this time. Alya saw the corners of her lips quirk upwards ever-so-slightly, belying her annoyance. “Come on, you alley cat. Race you to the Tower!”

“Oh, you’re on!” 

Alya watched them run off. Well, pole vault and swing off, but you know. Semantics.

Turning around, she headed back home.

She had an article to write.

-----

Alya hummed as she walked into class, glancing at her phone. The Chat article had been a major hit, garnering several dozen comments within a few hours of posting, including from a user called “TheCatsMeow” who seemed weirdly invested in convincing everyone that Chat definitely had no experience modeling and his on-point posing was entirely due to natural talent and charisma. People picked the weirdest hills to die on. She’d been joking when she proposed that he was secretly a supermodel, but after having defended the possibility in a ten-commment-long exchange, she was starting to seriously consider it. Hm, maybe Adrien would have an idea of a possible identity lead…

“Oooof!”

“Augh!”

Note to self: Don’t walk while looking at your phone. Sure she never listened when Mom told her that, but maybe this time she’d have the self-control to hold off! Optimism!

“Sorry,” she said instinctively. And blinked. “Marinette? You’re EARLY?!”

She should text her mom to buy a lottery ticket.

“Yeah,” Marinette said, chuckling nervously. She seemed to be in much better shape this time. A little down, but it looked like she’d gotten some decent sleep. “I- I just thought- if you wanted to talk- never mind. You need space.”

Suspicions percolated in her mind. “I should go to the restroom before class starts. How about you?”

Marinette’s head whipped up. “Yeah, sure, better to be safe than sorry. You know me, always needing to race to the toilet!” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Every other akuma attack it seems like,” Alya said, walking down the hallway with her friend. “I swear, something about it being an inconvenient time makes you need to go even more.”

“Yep, that’s totally the reason!” Marinette agreed.

They walked for a moment in silence while she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know about my advice to Ladybug, don’t you?” she said at last.

“Ack-!” Marinette tripped on air, but managed to save herself at the last second. “Uh, no, that’s ridiculous, how could I know about that? It’s not like I was there or anything.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And it’s pure coincidence that you concluded I needed space the day after I gave that advice to Ladybug to help with her own friend problem?”

“Uuuuuh…” Marinette looked off to the side, before releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Ladybug talked to me last night, and well… your conversation came up. I figured our problems were similar enough, and you were the one giving the advice, so… maybe if I followed it, we could make up?”

Marinette wanted to go back to normal, to laugh and joke and just.. enjoy each other’s company again. And Alya… she wanted that too. 

She knew Marinette hadn’t meant to hurt her. And she understood why Marinette had done what she’d done. 

Well, except for what prompted Marinette to need to lie in the first place. She just had a gut feeling it was a cult, some sort of secret society. She was sure Miraculous had been around for awhile, that several historical figures had used them, and she could just bet that there was some sort of secret group watching over them from the shadows. She just needed a thread to follow, something that could lead her back to the guardians-

NOT THE TIME, BRAIN.

Abruptly, she stopped. “I- I want that too,” she said softly. “I don’t like fighting. I want my friend back.” She gave Marinette a hard look. “If Ladybug told you my advice, then you already know what I’m about to say. I don’t like being lied to - not like that. Not as part of a manipulation. You had your reasons, I get that, but I don’t think I could take that a second time. Unless someone’s in danger if you don’t, please, don’t lie to me. If you can’t tell me something or why you’re asking me to do a thing, just tell me that. I can’t promise to like it, but it’s better than being tricked.”

Marinette bit her lip and nodded. “I think- yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she said, gaining confidence.

Alya smiled. “In that case…” she took off. “Race you to the bathrooms!”

“Hey, no running in the halls!” Marinette said, but her laughter undercut her words. As did her immediately overtaking Alya.

Girl could move fast when she wanted to.

------

(Several months later)

“And I… I’m Ladybug”

“This makes everything make so much more sense.”

[got-svt]

pairing: seventeen x reader genre: fluff, angst

updates: ???

warning; this is just me indulging in some of my favorite tropes and cliches because I can’t get enough of them

during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever. 

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost.  

lee chan as the childhood best friend. he’s the one you grew up next to, who lived in the house directly in front of yours. the one you’ll forever associate with popsicles on the sidewalk, bike rides at dawn, seesaws and swings at sunset. and you wish you could trap yourself within the memories, to never escape the hold of childhood innocence. but, just like everyone else, both of you eventually had to grow up. 

yoon jeonghan as the academic rival. he’s the one that had you wondering how could you be so similar to someone, yet so different? he knew how to push your buttons and make a competition of everything, whether it was sports, academics, or extracurriculars. he was the one that made steam come out of your ears and blood rush to your cheeks. but even you had to admit there was a certain rush that came with it, too bad he transferred schools just before senior year. 

vernon chwe as the first love. he’s the one who woke up thirty minutes earlier in the morning just so he could walk with you to school. it was the kind of love that felt more like a friendship, but neither of you would have had it any other way. filled with inside jokes, skating in the park, sneaking out after curfew. all smiles, messy kisses, and badly belting out songs in the car. unfortunately, both of you also knew your relationship would never last past graduation day.  

xu minghao as the boy you met at summer art camp. he’s the one you were hesitant to approach at first. it wasn’t until you were tasked to critique each other’s works that you really got to know him. after that it was all marshmallows around a campfire, swimming in the lake, drawing in the fields, and paint that never seemed to leave either of your skin. as much as you wanted it to last forever, summer had to end and he never promised to keep in touch. 

joshua hong as the university campus crush. he’s the one who seemed too good to be true. whose smile could break a million hearts, but you knew better than to fall for it. you saw him studying in the library, walking the halls, relaxing in the quad, always surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans — all vying for his attention. what a shame you never found out that you were the one who managed to catch his eye.  

boo seungkwan as the classmate you tutor. he’s the one who pretended to struggle in chemistry just so he could get closer to you. soon enough quiet afternoons in the library ended with nights at a karaoke bar, singing your hearts out to hits from the 2000s. you always knew he liked you. he never knew you liked him back, and your newfound friendship became much too valuable to risk. as the semester drew to a close, so did chances of a relationship.   

wen junhui as the barista at your favorite cafe. he’s the one who spelled your name right on the first try and remembered your order by the third visit. the only one who greeted you with a smile as you entered the door — not a forced, practiced smile, but a genuine one. his voice was as soothing as the cups of tea he made on nights you couldn’t sleep. however, you could never recall a time you saw him outside the cafe. 

kwon soonyoung as the dance partner. he was the teaching assistant in your social dancing class. the butterflies in your stomach went wild each time he laughed off you stepping on his feet, when you felt how tightly he grasped your hand in his, whenever he looked into your eyes. for some reason, you thought he had fallen for you just as you had for him. that idea was crushed when you saw him dancing with somebody else, their bodies in sync the way yours and his could never be.  

jeon wonwoo as the college sweetheart. he’s the one you mistakenly thought would last. you remember all the early morning coffee runs and late night drives, cramming sessions in the library, holding hands underneath the table, dancing in the rain, his sweaters smelling like him, lazy sundays talking about the future. it was the kind of love you fought for, but fate had different plans.

kim mingyu as the next door neighbor. living on your own would’ve been dreadful had he not been there. did you need an extra cup of sugar for some cookies? he’ll bring one over and even bake with you. are you going away for a trip? don’t worry he’ll water your plants and feed your fish, making sure they’re the healthiest they can be. something broke? he’s more than willing to fix it himself or call someone who can if he’s unable to. which is why you wish he never moved away, leaving you with nothing but a letter and a quieter apartment. 

choi seungcheol as the coworker. your first job was a nightmare, but he was the one who made everything much more tolerable. he made sure you ate properly, never overworked yourself to the point of exhaustion, offered you a ride home when it was too late to take the bus, sent you a smile during early morning meetings. he became your rock during some of the toughest months of your life, what a shame he had to be transferred somewhere else.  

 lee seokmin as the one that got away. he should’ve been it. hadn’t it been for the timing, the distance, every other little circumstance that eventually built up to be too much. you could’ve had it all. you loved each other and for the longest time you swore it would be enough. but with his life in the spotlight and yours out of it, the end was almost inevitable. maybe in another life things could be different, but neither of you would ever get the chance to know. 

lee jihoon as the endgame. he’s the one you met much later on in life, but little did either of you know that your paths were always meant to cross. he’s always been there, waiting in the sidelines. he attended the class after yours, entered the cafe just as you were about to leave, lived in the apartment three floors above you, worked in the building located a couple of streets from your office. the reason why every single heartache eventually became worth it, because they all lead to him — the one who ended up staying.

[taglist is open for the entire series or specific member/s ! just send in an ask or a dm] 

note; this will be bulleted scenarios bec i feel like it would be the most feasible for me to do with the other wips i have for this blog. ren — i hear you ask — if you have a ton of wips, why start another series? listen, my brain decided to fart out this idea at three in the morning and what was i supposed to do? say no? ajhsskh and it’s february wc is the month of ~love~ so no better time than this one ig? again,, no update schedule for this one but chan’s will most likely be up on his bday  (not sure on vernon’s and seokmin’s that depends on how quickly i can crank these out shdjasn) ! <33

[itskateak]

Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Two

(Bucky Barnes x Single Dad!Reader)

Series Summary: Y/N L/N works as an intel specialist at the Avenger’s Compound. He scans chatter on the international - and intergalactic - level for any information that might be helpful to the Avengers and other agents. But he’s also a single father to a beautiful eight-year-old girl: Angelica L/N. It’s tough raising a little girl on his own and working a full-time job, but he’s managing. A promotion has him launched up in rank at the Compound, leading him to work directly with the Avengers team. The only problem is it’s a 24/7 job. Life around the compound gets a little strange when his daughter is added to the mix of enhanced humans and ex-assassins.

Chapter Summary: Adjustment to a new environment is always difficult, but Angelica seems to be taking it well. Y/N meets the other members of the team and watches as they take Angelica in as one of their own.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of bullying, like one swear word

A/N: The Scott mentioned is not Scott Lang. I'd like to make that very clear just in case there was any confusion. Updates should come much quicker. I just got hung up on this chapter for some reason. :P

Taglist is still open! If you want to be added, come stop by my inbox and send me a <3!

Masterlist

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ 

Y/N brushed his hands off and sighed. He'd just finished unpacking the last of his things. The last week had been filled with packing boxes and making trips back and forth from the house. It was tiring and strange to move from the house they'd been in for ten years. He placed his hands on his hips, looking around his new quarters. 

The room was large with more than enough space for all of his things. Books lined up neatly in bookshelves, other trinkets scattered along the shelves. Pictures of Angelica hung on the walls, only broken up with a few nature shots. He straightened his shirt out and jumped as arms wrapped around his waist.

"Papa!"

"Holy - Angelica! You scared the living daylights out of me." Y/N placed a hand on his chest, his heart beating strongly. Angelica giggled and bounced past him to flop on his bed. Her hair was pulled up out of her face since she'd been working to set up her room, too.

"I need help hanging my fairy lights." Angelica rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin up with her hands. She kicked her feet back and forth idly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Well, I just finished up with my things so let's go do that," Y/N sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for her to climb onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he stood, shifting her further up. "We can finish unpacking the rest of your things, too."

"And then can we get some ice cream from Pop's?" Angelica asked, her legs swinging as they walked down the hall.

"Kiddo, I have to get some work done to set up my office for Monday. Maybe after school and the library tomorrow." He said, letting her slide a little. She squealed, tightening her grip around his shoulders. 

"Papa! Stop! Don't let me fall!" Angelica laughed, her hands clawing at her father's shirt.

"Baby, I'd never let you fall," Y/N grinned and squeezed her leg gently. "That time on the boat in Cape Cod should be evidence enough."

"I'd never heard you swear so much." 

"The water was cold and I didn't expect to fall!" Y/N defended himself. When she was six, they had gone to Cape Cod with a friend for summer break. On a particularly warm day, that friend had taken them out with a speed boat. Angelica had gotten a little too close to the edge when they were anchored and had slipped. He'd caught her, but in turn, fell overboard into the cold water. "I don't swear often around you but it just slipped out."

"Yeah, fourteen things just slipped out." Angelica snorted. "And the combinations used were just - mwah - Magnifique."

"Angelica Ellaine L/N, I will drop you right here, right now." Y/N threatened playfully. "And where did you learn that? Magnifique?"

"Our neighbor, Scott! He comes to visit Miss Irene sometimes to play dress up." Angelica waved her hand in a poor imitation of a drag queen's flamboyant gesture. "You better work, dahling! Yas!"

Y/N laughed and nudged her bedroom door open with his foot. She was just down the hallway from him, but with enough space in between to have some distance and privacy. He turned and let her fall onto the safety of her bed.

"Where do you want the lights?" He asked and picked the strand of lights up. They were little warm lights in plastic jars that mimicked fireflies in jars. Angelica liked them the most out of all of the ones she had since they reminded her of her favorite movie: The Princess and the Frog.

"Above my bed! They're really nice to read by." Angelica sat up and pointed to a location near her pillows. There were at least four piled up, as she liked having many, claiming that it felt like sleeping on a giant cloud.

"Okay. Scoot, then, so I don't step or fall on you." He gestured for her to move and she scrambled off with a giggle. "Be prepared to hand me the command hooks."

"On it!" Angelica rifled through a plastic bag, looking for the package of hooks. She poured a bunch into her hand and bounced back over to where her father was.

Y/N carefully stood on her bed, balancing on the soft surface. He dropped the lights at his feet and held his hand out for a hook. He centered the hook with the wall, thankful the bed was centered as well, and firmly pressed it against the ceiling. After giving it a second, he bent down to grab the lights.

"Do you want them to hang low?"

"And to wobble to and fro?" Angelica countered, placing her hands on her hips. "Can you tie them in a knot?"

"I'll tie you in a knot." He mock threatened, looking at her over his shoulder. She stuck her tongue out at him and he returned it. "Do you want them to hang low?"

"Can we play with it?" She asked, head tilted, her sass melting away now that she was focused on something else. He swore his child had the attention span of a goldfish or the brain of a monkey. She would see something shiny and get distracted very easily.

"Well, I need to know where to put the other hooks, you dork." Y/N hung the lights on the hook, perfectly centered. He grabbed one end of the strand and held it up, moving it to show different degrees of slack. "Tell me when."

"Uhhh.....there! Perfect!" 

"Yeah, that looks perfect." Someone said from behind them, startling them both.

They turned to see who it was and were greeted by a red-haired woman leaned in the doorway, arms folded over her chest.

"Hey, little monster. Don't think we've met." She smiled and gave a small wave to Angelica. "I'm Natasha Romanoff."

"You're Black Widow!" Angelica beamed, eyes wide. She was nearly vibrating with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm Angelica."

"Nice to meet you, Angelica. I saw the door open and thought I'd come say hi. The others might stop in, too. Barnes and Rogers are on a mission right now, though, so don't go looking for the fossils." Natasha hitched her chin at Y/N. "Might want to move that to the right just a touch so it can be even on the other side."

"Thanks, Natasha." He held his hand out for a hook again. "Kiddo, you're starstruck. Hook, please."

Angelica didn't move and he sighed, shaking his head in amusement.

"If you ever want to learn how to defend yourself, little monster, then talk to your dad and come find me. I like the lights." Natasha winked and disappeared from the doorway.

"Are you gonna hand me a hook?" Y/N teased, turning to look at his star-eyed daughter. 

"Black Widow likes my lights." She grinned.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ 

"Okay, lunch break?" Y/N asked, stretching his legs out. He'd been on the floor for an hour or so unpacking the rest of her decorations and trinkets. The muscles in his thigh seized up and he hissed under his breath, massaging the side of his leg gently.

"Ugh, yes, please." Angelica bounced off her bed and onto her feet. "Carry me?"

"Ha, that's funny. You have two legs. You can walk." He snorted. "Come on, let's get some lunch."

Angelica slipped her hand into his and they walked together to the common room. She skipped along beside him, humming some random tune. She was settling into their new home well. He was afraid she would be uncomfortable with the new change and struggle to adjust. But everyone had been welcoming so far.

"And I told her she was crazy for doing it, but she just went in, guns blazing. Literally." A voice drifted from the kitchen followed by laughter. "I hate it. She's gonna get us killed one day."

"But you have some good stories to tell." Another voice, accented, floated into the hallway.

"Damn straight."

Y/N poked his head into the kitchen and smiled. "Hey, Sam. Wanda."

"Hi, Y/N. And mini Y/N." Sam Wilson leaned against the counter and waved at Angelica when she came into view. "I'm Sam Wilson and this is Wanda Maximoff."

"Nice to meet you. Angelica, yes?" Wanda's eyes crinkled up when she smiled. Her chin was resting in her hand and an unopened bottle of water rested just in reach.

"Yeah! And you're Scarlet Witch and you're Falcon, right?" Angelica bounced on the balls of her feet, her excitement lighting up her eyes.

"Wow, yeah. That's who we are." Sam said, looking to Y/N with an amused smirk.

"She's kind of a fan." He shrugged, looking at his daughter who was practically bursting with enthusiasm. When he'd told her the full details the week before, she had gotten up from the dinner table and bounced around like a kangaroo on a sugar high. Like many other kids her age, she looked up to the Avengers as heroes. 

"Well, now, I guess you're an honorary Avenger. Welcome to the team, little one." Wanda glanced at the clock and her eyes went wide. "Oh! I'm supposed to be training with Stephen in ten minutes. I should run and change."

"Yeah, you should. You know how he gets when you're late." Sam snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically in Angelica's direction. She giggled.

Wanda hopped off her stool, swiping her water bottle, and wiggled her fingers in a wave, red energy floating through the air around her hand. "See you around, little one." She left through the kitchen's other door.

"C'mere, kid. Let's pick a name for you." Sam rounded the counter and picked Angelica up, setting her on the stool. "I'm thinkin' something magic-related."

"Hey, Sam, have you eaten lunch?" Y/N asked, moving to the fridge to see what he could make. He looked through the drawers, finding it easiest to make sandwiches with what they had. 

"Nope. You offering to cook?" Sam sat on the other stool and reached for his phone.

"I'll make you a sandwich. I'm not cooking anything special." Y/N placed a packet of cheese and a container of ham on the counter. He grabbed the bread and a couple of knives, starting to make Angelica's favorite sandwich: ham and cheese with brown mustard and mayonnaise. Where his kid had picked up a love for brown mustard, he had no idea, since he didn't really care for mustard.

"Thanks, Y/N. So, Angelica. Let's get you a team name." 

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ 

Y/N shifted his desk to face the door, moving it to be perpendicular to the right wall. That was one thing he hated about being in a cubicle. He had always hated it when people snuck up behind him. Now, with the glass walls, he could see when people came up to his office. The windows behind him also brought natural light. Another thing his cubicle hadn't had.

He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, a little too warm from moving things around. He dragged his desk chair around and sank into it, leaning back. There were plans he wanted to implement into his office, but that would happen over time. So far, he had a desk and a couple of monitors. Picture frames and smaller trinkets would decorate his desk and walls soon. 

At least there was a couch and an extra chair. He'd have to get an end table and a coffee table for visitors. But those plans were for later and not right now. What mattered was that he could work comfortably for the time being and have space for Angelica to do homework.

"Ooh, fancy!" Angelica, speaking of the little mischief-maker, appeared in the doorway. She ran towards the couch and jumped over the armrest, flopping onto the cushions with a squeal. "So, this is where all the super-secret stuff is gonna happen?"

"It's not that cool. I just have to stare at a screen and make sure no one's doing anything bad." Y/N swiveled in his chair with an amused smile. Maybe he should get a plant or two, he thought. Or one of those small fountains that provided bubbling water as background noise.

"Catching bad guys before they do the bad things is pretty cool," Tony said from the doorway, hands sunk in his pockets. "Nice to see you're getting all settled. If there's anything you'd like to add, just tell Friday and we'll get it for you."

"Thanks, Tony." Y/N straightened up, shifting to face the door. A teenage boy stood just behind him, looking like he didn't know what was going on. "Angelica, you remember Tony, right?"

"Hi, Tony!" Angelica sat up, her knees over the armrest. She waved enthusiastically.

"Hey, munchkin. I just came by to introduce one of our team members. He's here over weekends for training. This is Peter Parker. Pete, this is Y/N L/N, our intel specialist." Tony placed his hand on the shoulder of the teenage boy and pulled him forward.

"Hi, Mr. L/N." Peter smiled and waved shyly. He didn't know what to do with his hands after that, moving them to his hips, then clasped them in front of him before folding his arms over his chest and tucking his hands against his chest.

"And that's his daughter, Angelica. You two will get along famously," Tony pointed to Angelica, who rolled backward on the couch and bounced to her feet.

"Which superhero are you?" She asked, straightening out her skirt and using her foot to pull the leg of her leggings down since it had bunched up on her calf.

"I'm...I'm Spiderman," Peter said, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. He seemed very nervous like he wasn't sure about meeting them today. Y/N wondered if Tony had just dragged him down to his office without telling him what was happening.

"No way! You used to swing by our apartment like once every week!" Angelica grinned. "That's so cool!"

"Knew it - I called it. Didn't I call it?" Tony pointed between Angelica and Peter before turning his finger to himself. "Anyway, Pete. If you have any intel from in the field or if you need intel, Y/N's your man. It's gonna be great!" He backed out of the room with a smile. "Gonna be great!"

"Is he always like that?" Y/N asked, laughing. Of all the people he'd met so far, Tony was by far the most entertaining. He was unpredictable and had quite the personality.

"Uh, yeah. He's, uh...He's always like that." Peter nodded for a moment too long and the silence became a touch awkward. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Y/N. You, too, Angelica." He held his hand out like he was offering to shake someone else's, but since they were so far away...it didn't quite work.

"Please, just Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Peter. What you do is pretty incredible." Y/N smiled and watched as Peter's shoulders relaxed. He seemed to be an anxious individual around people he didn't know.

"Oh, uh...thank you." Peter's face turned pink and he looked at his feet with a shy smile.

 "Hey, kiddo. Don't you have some homework to catch up on?" Y/N turned to his daughter. Getting the attention off of Peter would probably help his nerves. 

"Awww, but it's Friday!" Angelica whined, wrinkling her nose up and looking at her father with disdain.

"And you have a week's worth of work to catch up on." Y/N raised his eyebrows in a typical fatherly way. It had been easier to just pull her from school for a week to move everything from their house into the compound and to get used to the new environment.

"Uh, I have some homework, too. We could do it together?" Peter suggested, hooking his thumbs under his backpack straps.

"You wouldn't mind?" Angelica asked, spinning around with a dazzling smile.

"Yeah. It's totally fine. I could use the company while suffering through geometry." Peter wrinkled his nose up in a similar manner, obviously not fond of the subject.

Angelica turned to her father with wide, questioning eyes. She was barely concealing her enthusiasm, beginning to bounce on the balls of her feet again.

"Why are you lookin' at me? You live here and I trust you not to get into trouble." Y/N said with a laugh. "You know the rules."

"Don't terrorize people. Pranks should be harmless. And snitches don't get cookies." Angelica recited, counting on her fingers. 

Peter looked between them with amused confusion. "Snitches don't get cookies?"

"Our neighbor, Scott, taught it to her at three years old. It's just been a thing since then." Y/N explained. "Scott's a personal accountant by day and a drag queen by night."

"I'm gonna miss seeing Scott." Angelica looked at her feet sadly. "He always brought the prettiest shoes."

"Nothing against us visiting Irene and Scott from time to time, kiddo. Now, go on. You've got a bunch of homework to do and I know your math teacher gave you a good amount." Y/N gestured with his head for them to go.

Angelica perked up suddenly. "Did you say geometry earlier?"

"Yeah?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"You should show me some! I'm learning percentages right now, but it's super boring." She took Peter's arm with a grin and pulled him out of the office.

"Have fun and don't be a devil child!" Y/N called after her and she gave him a thumbs-up before passing his office front.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ 

Y/N scrolled through his phone aimlessly, laying on his stomach in bed. He still wasn't used to calling it his, since he'd only been living there for a week. The room was dark because of the late hour, but he wasn't quite ready to sleep. Having a kid didn't mean much time alone to just exist, so he would take every moment he could. Not that he didn't love his daughter, he did, but he needed those few hours alone at night to recharge and relax.

His phone buzzed with a text from a number he didn't recognize. 

???: Hey, Ciara. This is Larry. :)

Y/N: I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number. I'm not Ciara.

???: Are you sure this isn't right? This is the number Ciara gave me.

Y/N: Considering I'm a guy and my name is Y/N, yeah. Pretty sure she gave you a random number. Sorry, buddy.

???: Oh...dang. Thanks for being so nice about that.

Y/N: No problem. Have a nice night.

???: You, too.

Y/N deleted the conversation, not worrying about it. It had happened to him before - on both sides - so there really wasn't anything strange about the interaction. He sighed and switched back to Facebook, looking at his feed. A memory popped up and he smiled.

Angelica's first day at school in kindergarten. She was smiling, a gap in her front teeth from losing her first tooth. Her hair was in braided pigtails and she was wearing a dress with a pair of Disney sister characters on the front. My little girl's growing up so fast. Lost her first tooth yesterday, and now she's off to school for the first time.

He remembered that day vividly. She'd been so excited when she came home, talking up a storm about the friends she had made and the things they were learning. When she went to bed that night, she slept like the dead.

The next day, though, was one he really remembered. She was supposed to do a "my family" drawing at school, and a few of the kids had noticed she had only drawn her dad. After saying she didn't have a mom, they'd teased her until the teacher made them stop.

When he picked her up, the only thing she said when he asked how her day went was: Why don't I have a mom? The car ride had been awkwardly silent after that, and he explained it to her over dinner. 

I'll always be here for you, though, Angel. I promise. Nothing in the world can take me away from you.

 ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Taglist:  @supernaturalwintersoldier​ @shadowolf993​

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

after Elise the knight wins a jousting tournament, she is approached by the prince, Nova, while he is astride his black stallion. dismounting, he kneels to her, kisses her hand, and declares that he is in love with her.

So first off, I kept their names generic (the knight and the prince) because my brain needs everything on my blog to be somewhat similar. But I did keep physical appearances just how you messaged me.

Secondly, this whole piece is not edited and is full of cheesy dialouge.

Third, I started writing this before this very particular scene. I hope you like it!

Warnings: weaponry (is that a word?), cut by a sword, jousting tournament

~

"This is absurd," the prince exclaimed as he walked his horse, a stunning black Friesian stallion, through the murky woods.

The event of plodding through the forest wasn't the "absurd" part the prince was so adamant about proclaiming. It was the fact that a knight, a woman knight to be exact, was leading his horse as she rode astride her mare- a shimmering chestnut colored Arab with the temperament of a feisty toddler.

"What is absurd is the fact that you rode that horse, not one of the steeds equipped for endurance, for a ride of distance," the knight, fair in stature with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes, retorted as she clucked her horse along.

Friesians, as dashing as they were, did not have the physical ability to go on long treks. Arabs, skinnier by far- the knight hated the size difference between the bold stallion and the petite mare- were the proper mount; given the occasion.

"I have a parade when I get into Neighboring Kingdom's citadel," the prince replied, unfased by the knight's blatant voice. "Riding one of my otherwise less glamorous horses would be unsuitable."

"You expect you joust in this thing?" The knight gestured towards the stallion.

"Yes I do."

"I think you expect to lose," the knight rolled her eyes.

The pair came upon a beaten down path. Horsetracks and wheel-marks indented the ground, making it seem like a plow paved it then a boulder rolled across. The knight tossed the reins back to her sire. The useless horse would be able to plod across a path. It wasn't like they were in the middle of the woods, having to watch for holes and omnious roots as trip hazards.

Her mare obviously took the lead, her neck stretched out, ears pointed forward as she viewed every tree and every stump with inquisitive curiosity. The bridle she wore, a nice black one was a jeweled browband that stretched down to a cowlick in the center of her forehead. The bit, a simple one, not too harsh for the mare's sensitive mouth, was made of the finest metal. A martingale, ornated with the finest blue and white jewels that matched the browbane, stretched from the bridle to the girth underneath the tiny horse's stomach.

The saddle was much more simple. It was, by all means, meant for speed. Not so much for fighting, but she still wore a scabbard with a fancy sword.

"The warrior who I am fighting is the kingdom's strongest knight," the prince said, desperate to start coversing with the elegant, if not glamourous lady.

"So is it even worth this journey?"

"Indeed." The prince wanted to say more, but that would make it seem like he was pushing it. After all, he didn't want to annoy the knight- that wouldn't be a good way to foster a relationship.

After a couple hours of sparse conversation and making forks in the road, the pair came upon a small village nestled into the base of a mountain.

"We shall stop here," the knight said, her voice full of undeniable tiredness.

The prince, on the other hand, preferred to keep on going. They could just an hour's travel in then camp in the woods, under a willow tree... if the environment proved loyal, he could also find some holly and string it over the campfire...

"Sire?"

"Wha- ah yes, stopping here will be beneficial."

"Beneficial?"

"Yes, for sleep and food." Did he just embarrass himself?

"Mm."

The village was still in the prince's kingdom, though on the border. Some may argue against that territorial arrangement, but the small town's people waved the black and blue flag of the prince's kingdom.

The chorus of excited outbursts and anxious ramblings was the first noise that the prince and knight heard, even before the placid bleat of the sheep and the moo of the vast heards of cattle.

"The prince is here!"

"Tell the elders that the prince arrived!"

"Prepare a room!"

The prince trotted his horse forward, the long silkly feathers on its hooves brushing the ground in elegant fashion. The knight's Arab nodded her head and crow-hopped, putting up a fit that the lady riding was not a fan of.

"Knock it off," she growled, pushing her hands forward whenever the mare would rear so she wouldn't pull on her tender mouth.

The Friesian and blue haired prince greeted the oncoming crowd with arrogant waves and smiles. The knight dismounted the hot headed chestnut horse and led her through the city. She would have to find a cottage, a shed at best, to rest before finishing the trek the next day.

She strolled through the village, whispering soft words to her horse and scratching its long ears.

After much judging and contemplation, the knight walked up to an isolated house. It had a shed with hay and a water trough, so it would accommodate the mare's needs as well. Before even knocking on the wooden door, she allowed her horse to drink.

A small girl made her appearance, her eyes widening in suprise before rushing off, calling for "father".

A man came along next, armed with a sword. The knight did not unsheath her weapon, but stood next to the scabbard just in case.

"What are you doing here knight?"

"Passing through sir."

"By yourself?"

"The prince is with me. Now, if I may, could I sleep inside this shed tonight?"

"No member of the palace is welcome here."

That is unfortunate...

"Well sir, we had a long day, at least let my mount drink."

The man raised his sword and stepped forward. "Leave," he grunted.

The knight, not wishing to start something, gathered the reins and swung into the saddle with ease.

"Good day," she said as proceeded to walk away, but at the last moment, a blade slit her thigh.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, drawing her sword. The mare, jittery with excitement at the sight of the dazzling weapon, spun around quickly. Her ears pricked forward, awaiting further comands.

"You do not strike an officer of the king and a personal bodyguard of the prince," she spoke her well-rehearsed words in a slight accent, habit from all the times she mocked the statement in the mirror.

"Leave my property," the man warned. The knight lowered her sword slightly, but did not move.

"Sir, I don't want to start anything, but if I must..." I also don't want to show submission, she thought to herself, but kept that hidden in her cognitive sayings.

"My knight!" Came a roaring voice just as the two metals were about to collide. The knight backed her horse up briskly to avoid any harm to the skinny face.

"My prince," the knight lowered herself into an awkward bow.

"Is this man troubling you?"

"Nothing more than I can't handle," the knight replied, sheathing her sword. The man, a strangly thing with a coarse brown beard, and beady eyes, still held his own weapon high- ready to fight for whatever reason.

"Back off," the prince wielded his horse around and clucked him into a threatening rear. The seventeen hand-high stallion towered over the man who scurried into the safety of his cottage.

"I could've handled it," the knight said as the prince looked at her.

"I know, but sometimes allow me to be a gentleman," he teased, his eyes searching the cut on the knight's leg. "Are you okay?"

"It's just a scratch, I had worse."

"Get it cleaned."

The knight didn't reply, she just asked for a walk and started to stroll down the desolate street- the civilians must've fled with the brief commotion started.

"Come with me!" The prince called, but the knight kept walking. She didn't want her sire to rub it in that he saved her- not that she needed it. Heck, she could've finished the man right there and then if the oh so lovely prince did not interfere.

The next morning, the pair was even more silent then normal. The knight rode a good few strides ahead of the prince, not even reacting to his petty complaints.

The Neighboring Kingdom where the prince was to joust was only a morning's ride away. The tournament was in the afternoon and the next day where princes and lords were to fight until there was only one victor.

The prince was, by all means, the best at jousting- actually anything on horseback, not that the knight would admit it. He won the first five within one pass and then he was done for the day. The next day would be the championship to determine the winner.

And the new Champion.

Oddly enough, the two competitors were the prince and the prince from the kingdom in which they were competing.

The two lined up their horses on opposite ends of the arena and held their lances steadfast. The Friesian was rearing, just like the other's gray horse was prancing about.

The bell rang.

The two kicked their horses into a gallop, rushing at the other with lances high in the air. The Other Prince leveled his at the prince's neck and...

He dodged, ducked clear out of sight.

They lined up again.

Ding!!

The horse's hooves clawed at the air as they races towards one another. The lances leveled, the horses sped up (the knight was mildly impressed at the Friesian's ability to perform).

This time, the prince was able to knock his for off his horse. He clattered onto the ground, armor striking hard soil.

Cheers rallied in the crowd, apart from a few jeering remarks about "unfairness" and "cheating".

The prince took his praise proudly, and the knight found herself clapping alone with the audience. That was until the prince cantered up to her, dismounted...

"My knight," he purred, taking her hand and kissing it politely. He knelt down onto one knee.

"Will you marry me?" He asked.

"No."

[z-007]

A Journey of Sadism (mental and physical)

I was born in the 21st of April 1992, in Jableh-Latakia. But, since my father was an employee for Total French company in Syria, I grew up in Damascus. At the age of 4, I was diagnosed with Diabetes type 1. It was very hard for me at the beginning when I was a child, and my mother suffered a lot, giving me insulin injections, which I found painful at that time, and analyzing my blood sugar to inspect what did I eat if the result was soaring sky high. I hated her at the beginning, simply because as a child, I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. At 8 years old I went to a school that is Sunni Islamic Pre-Historic School in Dummar called -Young Scientists- something that I discovered later on to be ironic. In Syria, If you weren’t good at school, you were cursed, you became like a Boxing Heavybag. They also used Falakas, the art of whipping feet. It didn’t stop at that, simply because parents became part of this process too, using any tool at their disposal in beating their child, chair, water hose, hammer, clothes hanger, electric cables, let alone being slapped on the face in a way that I started feeling my bones were shaking, and my eyes will throw fire, or kicked in your head and started bleeding. All of this, was because my marks in Arabic, mathematics, history and geography were not good except in English. It was the best language to understand for me, and the subject in which I saw myself to be a good student. As a consequence of that, I started losing control and cause trouble to my so-called teachers at that time. Luckily in 2001, I found my sanctuary that took to a completely different world. It was the first time I saw James Bond in GoldenEye. I was so thrilled by the action sequence, the theme of betrayal and everything about it was cool. This was a turning point in my life to become a Bond fan. I also learnt how to sing rap songs like Faint for Linkin Park, and Bleed It Out. And all of my father’s friends who were French, British and Americans were impressed. It was something that I remember with a loving memory to those people. Later I watched the rest of the Bond films and the happiest moment in my life was when I found the complete DVD set in Tartus. Simply because no DVD store in Damascus had the complete set except one who was also our neighbor. The curse of buying films in Syria was that they were badly used CDs at the bloody beginning. It was very rare to have a CD converted from an original DVD. This greatest franchise in the whole world has sealed my internal wounds for not being a good student. Ironically, the mental case of mine came back to me when I was at High School, especially it was a time that determined who I am, luckily it passed with no harm to me, because a single mark changed future to some students .I forgot to mention, that the school principle when I was at the ninth grade, didn’t stop calling my parents and telling them not to spend a single penny on me, because he thought I will never be successful. But I brought a mark that was better than his children’s. In 2010, I became a student of English Literature in Damascus University, I remembered that I was not a bad student at that time with an average of 80 percent. But the Syrian Crisis began in 2011, the press was already screaming for blood and the political unrest escalated to the extent that we had to change residence. This was the bane of my existence to open my eyes and find myself in Latakia. I was simply cursed and hostile, because I didn’t speak like Alawaits, their accent felt like starving dogs, in other words, they bark. They are trivial, shallow minded wankers who had nothing inside their heads except clothes, mobile phones and narrating a fairytale about themselves having sex with girls and a horny 40-year-old women they come across and imagining penetrating their vaginas and sucking their nipples. I registered in Tishreen University at third year, I managed to transfer my documents to that platonic place. The professors didn’t like me, simply for participating in their lectures, and the fact that I spoke French, Spanish and a little bit Russian. As a consequence, I kept failing at University over and over. Moreover, I had different ideas, and University Professors are bigots and snobbish. Their opinion was the only one that matters. The impact of the mentioned earlier, had made my pain started with breakdowns, screaming my head off and security gathering around me like” what happened to you?”. Added to that, emotionally speaking, I had a horse sex drive in that Mohammadian society. Girls dressed in a way that said to male students, “come to me.”. The majority of women at that city showed their breasts, waist, legs, and what attracts me most their feet, especially, high heels, that gave them a very elegant look. For my good fortune, all I had in front of me was Pornographic DVDs and websites, so I kept masturbating from 11:30 pm until 10:00 am from night to daylight. Still wondering, how men attracted them, I didn’t have any idea, and the question kept circulating. I also hated the idea of marriage, especially that I always loved to live my life the way I fathomed. I didn’t like the idea of getting buried alive by being a bloody father and spend the rest of my life with only one Angry Factory, aka, one woman. The psychological problem kept increasing and started with depression; taking anti-depressants for a while and go back to my normal life when soothed down. I kept taking them every now and then. Students were not allowed to know about their mistakes at any cost, this was a University rule. Self-doubt has caused me to go to a neurologist who started doing me brain scans, simply, I just wanted to know why am I that stupid, for failing continuously and still I didn’t get an answer. I was always deprived of sleep, studying my arse off and my professors didn’t care seeing their students DIE and SUFFER in front of them. Everybody panicked from me, always avoided seeing me, treated as unusual man. At that time, due to the fact that I kept taking anti-depressants, they became ineffective and stopped giving me relief. Part of what killed me thousands of time when I’m still alive was realizing that I cannot become an MI6 agent at any cost. I simply wanted to do 1 % of what James Bond did, take notice, that I was not pursuing women, I was looking for action and suspense. I wanted to be stationed in the heart of ISIS or Spectre and operate in the shadows to protect Queen and Country. I didn’t like Hasan Nasrullah, Vladimir Putin who looked like a Bond villain or Ayatollah bloody Khomeini, even Ali Bin Abi Talib himself, and that’s why I was also crucified for being a James Bond fan. Family and friends made a laughing stock out of me. I started dinking excessively, and suicidal thoughts kept recurring to me. They didn’t stop driving me to bring a razor and wound myself to death, it wasn’t the MI6 job that destroyed me the most. It was self-doubt. Doubting my brain efficiency and abilities, and especially that I saw students whom I thought less capable to express themselves in English than I am. My family tried to see the professors in Tishreen University-Latakia, unsuccessfully. I simply couldn’t have any idea what is the main reason I kept failing over and over. How could I develop myself without knowing my mistakes?!!, I later told some people that I wanted to be an MI6 operative, I thought that might sooth my tension, however, it got things worse. I started attacking the professors while giving their lectures orally and physically. I also broke the classroom washbasin, and the entire classroom windows, then security staff gathered around me after 3 minutes, they were about to send me to an unknown destiny, later, everything stopped after the head of the English department told them not to take any action. The last problem I did was with World Literature professor, whose name is Noor AL Araby, she was a real bitch, I remembered studying her syllabus for a month, she told us that Virginia is not required for the exam, and she brought it. As a result of that, I wrote her three pornographic stories on the exam paper. Stories people see in Brazzers and Naughty America (Porn films companies). Everybody got pissed off, the story was about to be dragged from my house to a security branch for torture. Luckily, my uncle who was a Colonel in the Republican Guard he had connection to the President of the University, told the professor to drop out the case, but she was persistent to have my balls for Christmas decoration. She spread what I wrote her on the internet and about to send them to newspapers. My parents begged her not to and we had medical reports that proved that I had neurological and mental case. Then I was suspended from the University for years, from 2016, till now. She did all she could to destroy me to the utmost level. I was happy when I realized she got very agitated. Especially, there were students confirming that exam questions were paradoxical to the things she lectures about.

Suspension Time

At the time I was suspended it was a slow killer for me. Literary, I realized that I was the worst student in the history of the planet. I decided to follow Boxing, I remembered that I was fit enough for the game. I found out that I did well at round bouts on the ring. I could do sparring sessions, shadowboxing…etc. I was able to run at least 10kms per day, 300 sit-ups, 80 press ups and 20 pull-ups. I tried to be a champion but every time I kept persevering, in addition to that my left palm was broken and my right eye was wounded. I got cold and sick, and I realized that I had to spend at least 2 months with vaporizers, fertilizers and strong meds. I kept striving in Boxing with no success. I lost confidence in myself and felt humiliated. I said to myself, why didn’t I choose to work for the Syrian Secret Service, I went to the branches, and when they saw that I was discharged from the military because of diabetes type 1, they asked me to get lost. I was surprised when I found out that my dentist was an officer in the Ariel Intelligence in Syria, I told him the story, he said “this is not your fight, you might think that you can do well in the field, but your enemies are smarter than you, they know how they can take you down and destroy you once and for all. Second, we had people who kill targets, who can do silent killings, detonate and sabotage, whether male, or female, but they have nothing to lose, their parents are killed and very poor, working to make money, and you are a discharged, rich bastard and you want to join us. I’m surprised when you told me that. I was a James Bond fan like you, but believe me my friend, that the real intelligence work will never come up to your expectations. Once the film you watch finishes and the novel ends, go back to reality, what you look for does not exist. I realized that I couldn’t become an asset for MI6, or any spy agency in this world, I felt that I was under surveillance by my country. I knew that they could look at my messages, trace my location any time they wanted. That was not the real problem, suicidal thoughts and self-punishment ideas didn’t leave me. So, I talked to my uncle to send me to the Special Forces, or any Military Barracks to become a martyr, to take the bullets to my chest. I remembered when I drank wine bottle on my own, I told my parents that I wanted to wear a C4 charge belt and blow myself up inside ISIS. They were horrified, then I was unconscious and within minutes, I found myself inside the clinic, after I told my problem to the psychiatrist, about MI6 dream and the doubt that I’m under surveillance. He told my mother that I’m a Psychotic. I was injected with needles and medications that made me feel like cutting my head off. He also sent me to Damascus for electro-therapy (to take electricity directly to my brain). I also became a field of therapy by my Doctor, he was testing medications on me like Invega that made me shake while standing up. Hence, he decided to give me Zeldox 60 mg, second generation anti-psychotic. My only comfort was when I slept. Waking up to life while taking those meds was a curse. I lost my sexual drive (libido), I remember feeling dizzy all the time, I remember calling the doctor every time when I tell him about the side-effects concerning dizziness and loss of sexual drive, he kept telling me that what you say is incorrect and that it didn’t have any symptoms. By miracle, my father brought me lower dosage medication, life changed for me. I knew cat-houses in my city, every money woman I went to for an intercourse, they took a lot of money. They were abusing me. The sluts didn’t make me enjoy the intercourse the way I wanted. They were controlling me as well, and this is why I left them. After I told my psychiatrist that I reduced the dosage, he said that my condition will deteriorate. He confirmed to me that Chemistry in my brain was not right, then I told him to screw himself. Reducing the dosage had an effect as well. I remembered at a certain time that painkillers were like a bag of peanuts for me. And when night came I felt incredible fever in my head. I felt like being boiled alive. And I kept seeing nightmare afterwards, voices telling me that I will pay the price of reducing the medication dosage. Complete terror and horror kept chasing me for a very long time. After recovery, I logged into the James Bond groups on Facebook, they made me trivia to answer, did me a test about the James Bond 24 films from Dr.No 1962 to Spectre 2015. After I answered them all correctly, they called me Agent 00Zein. Made me an admin, and I had many friends from all around the world. In the 5th of October the global James Bond day , I celebrated with millions of the franchise fans. My great father, brought me a modern computer and IPhone X to follow up with these groups.

Nowadays, I’m not looking for immigration, nor women or anything else in this world. I have chosen to help my parents when they grow old, and help them. This is the best way I can pay them back. I decided to watch films about espionage world, read books, imagining the events and enjoy it fully and get my arse back to reality.

This is the only way; I cannot be punished.

I can imagine myself a soldier of 30 Assault Unit in Ian Fleming’s room 39 in WW2, or talking with Sir Alex Younger about my mission in VX or Whitehall. If not Sir Alex Younger, it could be Admiral Miles Messervy, Admiral Hargreaves, Madame Olivia Mansfield, or Lieutenant Colonel Gareth Mallory. And realize that” It was a matter of pride that the 00 Section has been chosen for this test. This painful experience kept coming back sometimes, notwithstanding, I have chosen to take with a pinch of salt, lol.

[cherrytdatt]

Sadness Ritual

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Summary: that same old best friends falling in love concept we all know and love.

A/N: so this is the first fic i decided to post in here and it is just angst, i’m sorry. i don’t think this has any physical description or gender description.

Yep. You did it again. You stalked him and saw what you didn't want to. And now you were about to cry while drunk in wine, listening to Cigarettes After Sex. But you couldn't help. You needed to know. You needed to see with your own eyes.

"It's okay. Everything is okay," you said to yourself clicking to see the next paparazzi picture. "I'm gonna be okay," you were smiling, almost laughing at your stupidity. You really thought that Tom, your best friend, your childhood friend, could fall in love with you. You were laughing at how much of an idiot you felt.

Your phone rang for the tenth time but you didn't care to see who was calling or texting. Whatever. You drank another sip of wine, going to the next picture. "Fuck" you mumbled. Of course, she is beautiful. He's a movie star. He would never go out with someone who doesn't look like a fucking model.

'Pick up your damn phone or I'm going to broke into your damn house!!!!' it was your best friend, Anna. Your female best friend. Because your male best friend must’ve be on some date he didn't tell you about with a girl who looks like a model 24/7.

'What do you want?' you texted her back, trying to sound normal so she wouldn't break into your house and force you to go out to forget about this damn crush you had on your best friend who was now dating.

'Are you okay?' she said and you knew she knew. You knew she knew about the pics, about your crush and about how you were probably drunk and crying right now.

'Sure. Why wouldn't I be?' you faked.

'Haz told me. I'm sorry,' you could see the pity look in her face typing that while she cuddled with Tom's male best friend, Harrison.

'Told you what? I don't know what you're talking about,' you lied.

'I'm your best friend. You don't need to lie to me,' you couldn't talk to her anymore. It was making you sick.

'I need to go now. I'm seeing a movie and I'm already lost because I'm talking to you,' you lied again and turned your phone off. You really couldn't handle anyone right now.

"Fuck!" you rolled your eyes looking at another pic. They were holding hands. You thought about all the times he refused to go out with you because someone could take a picture and that would be awful. God forbid anyone thinking you two were dating. You laugh, a humorless laugh thinking about the time he asked a fan not to tell anyone he was eating McDonald's at 3 a.m. just with you after you two binge watched 'The Office' for 5 hours non-stop.

Three loud bangs at your door made you jump and almost drop the glass of wine you were pouring yourself.

"Why can't people leave me the fuck alone?" you asked yourself placing the glass on the table and going to the door already knowing you wouldn't open up not even for Jesus. You looked at the peephole and if you wouldn't open for Jesus, the person standing outside wouldn't have a chance of seeing your face. "Fuck," you mouthed trying to make no sound so the person would go away.

"I know you're in there. Let me in," he said with a serious voice. You tried to stay still to see if he was bluffing. "I can see your shadow moving under the door," you looked at your feet checking if he could really see your shadow and your drunk brain got to the conclusion that yes, he could see you.

You rolled your eyes thinking about a good excuse. "I'm not feeling so good. I talk to you later. O-or text you." you lied.

"Please. I know you're lying. Your second best friend told me you were upset," he said the last part with a joking tone.

"Yeah... well, I'm upset cause I'm feeling sick," you said leaning against the door.

"You can't lie to me. I'm hearing that awful band you listen to whenever you're sad... and by your voice, I can tell you are drinking wine. No one who is feeling sick drinks wine," he said and you could hear the laugh in his voice. You really couldn't see him right now. You were too sad and you knew he wanted to know why and there was no way in hell you were gonna tell him the real reason.

"Please, Tom... just leave me alone. We can talk tomorrow," you whined hiding your face in your hands.

"No way. I'm your best friend. I'm here to take care of you and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in," he said and his voice was concerned now. "I'm gonna spend the entire night on the floor and all your neighbors will talk about how you let a cute movie star spend the night on the floor and you will be a villain and they will hate you forever," he joked and you heard him shuffling on the other side of the door. You looked for the peephole again and saw him sitting on the floor just like he said he would do.

"You're so idiot," you said almost too low, but he heard it.

"But you love me," you saw his smile saying this and your heart was happy and hurt at the same time.

You moved away from the door, closing your computer and turning down the music you knew he hated. You heard him shuffling again. "I know you gonna let me in cause you turned off that awful music," he laughed.

"I didn't turn it off, I just turned down," you said holding the doorknob.

"By the way, why do you listen to such depressive music..." he started "...when you're sad?" he finished with a breathe when you opened the door.

"Do you want me to listen to a Barney song?" you quipped.

"First of all, tell me why you are sad?" he asked hugging you.

"No specific reason," you said trying your best not to melt into the hug.

"Why are you so difficult sometimes?" he let you go, invading your apartment.

"I'm not difficult," you protested.

"Sure," he sat on your couch and drank the wine from your glass. "And this awful cheap wine," he whined making a face and putting the glass on the table again.

"Are you here to criticize me? Cause I didn't ask you to come," you said a little more bitter than you needed.

"I'm joking, okay?" he said putting his hands in the air in defense.

"Okay," you mumble sitting by his side. "I thought you were out with friends today?" you started sitting by his side and trying to make him tell you about the damn girl you saw him with a few minutes ago.

"Who told you that?" he asked confused looking at you.

"Anna," you lied.

"Yeah... she was wrong," he said turning his eyes to the TV who was still playing some Cigarettes After Sex sad song.

"I thought so... since you were out yesterday," you said knowing, because of the pics, that he went out the night before.

"How do you know that?" he asked not looking at you.

"Anna?" you said but it was more like a question. He hummed neither denying nor confirming it. "Did you had fun?" you asked picking up your glass from the table and drinking almost the entire content, preparing yourself for his answer.

"It could've been better if you were there," he said fidgeting.

"Well, if you had asked me I could've been there," you said in an annoyed tone. He went on a date, with a girl he never told you about, and now he was telling you, you should've been there. Is he that stupid? He hummed again just making you more annoyed.

You got up, picking up the glass and the wine bottle and going to the kitchen. You didn't want to talk anymore since he was being an idiot. "You can sleep on the couch if you want," you said getting out of the kitchen and seeing him in the same position, looking at you.

"Can I sleep with you?" he asked taking you by surprise. You two had shared a bed before but only when you were too drunk to realize what you were doing. You were almost that drunk now, but you were pretty sure he wasn't.

"Sure," you shrugged trying to keep a cool tone. "I'm gonna... brush my teeth," you tried not to stutter.

You went to the bathroom with your mind all fuzzy and you didn't know if it was because of the alcohol or because of his question. You brushed your teeth wishing that your tipsy state would help you to fall asleep fast and smoothly. You looked at the mirror and took a deep breath. "Why am I so stressed about this? If something happens you can say you were drunk," you whispered looking at yourself in the mirror. "Something happens??? What the hell are you talking about? He's dating someone," you debated with yourself. "You are crazy!" you said, finally, pointing to yourself in the mirror. You proceeded to brush your teeth and try to sober up washing your face with almost frozen water.

“Can I use the bathroom?" a voice sounded on the other side of the door after a few minutes.

“Yeah. I'm almost done," you said drying your face in the towel and opening the door to find Tom standing by the door, waiting for you to get out.

"What took you so long?" he asked with a smile and you felt your stomach turn. Maybe it was the wine, not the smile.

"I-I'm going... to bed," you said pointing to your room. Maybe you weren't so drunk.

"I'll meet you there," he said nonchalantly going into the bathroom.

You hopped on the bed, wishing you could fall asleep before he got back from the bathroom. You laid there, staring at the ceiling, not a drop of sleep in your brain, that was running a thousand miles a second with the idea of sharing a bed with your crush and best friend, Tom.

"Do you still have that sweatpant I gave you a couple months ago?" Tom asked going back to the bedroom.

"Yeah, I think it's somewhere in my closet," you said. Of course you knew where they were. You fell asleep in them whenever you missed him. "Maybe... the second drawer," you finished seeing he was looking in the wrong place.

He opened the drawer finding the sweatpants and the shirt he gave you a few months ago when you passed out in his house after drinking an entire bottle of wine. "Lucky me I gave you this," he smiled taking off his pants and you forced yourself to look at the ceiling while he undressed. "So when are you gonna tell me why you're sad?" he asked putting the pants on.

"Uh-hum... I just told you, no specific reason," you said remembering the pictures again.

"You know I know you too well to believe in that, right?" he said taking off his shirt and you looked at him, your eyes lingering on his abs a little too long. He coughed catching your attention. You looked at his face and his lips were pressed together, trying to hide a smile.

"I think it's that time of the month," you lied.

"Sure," he said rolling his eyes, knowing you were lying. Your time of the month wasn't for another two weeks if he did the math right. "Do you mind if I sleep shirtless?" he asked holding the shirt in his hand.

"No," you said already knowing it would be a difficult night.

"Thanks," he smiled jumping on the bed by your side and you mumbled a 'your welcome'. Why was he doing this to you? First, go out with that girl. Then come to your house. Ask you to sleep in your bed. And now, lay down, shirtless, by your side, like that was nothing. Did he want to torture you?

He, turning on his side and holding your waist, cut your internal rant short. He pulled you closer, closer enough for you to feel his breath on your neck. If your brain could work, he would think 'why is he doing this?' You took a deep breath and, gathering all the strength in your body, you turned, staring at your white wall, with your back facing him.

"You know I would never hurt you on purpose," he whispered on your neck, out of nowhere. You closed your eyes, not answering him, and hoping this night would end soon.

You don't know when or how but you were able to fall asleep and that was before Tom placed a kiss to your neck, wishing he could end all your sadness with his presence.

At 3 a.m. you woke up like you always do when you drink wine. Your mind was still a little fuzzy and you felt a weight over your body. You grumbled rubbing your eyes, not knowing exactly what was going on. Tom breathed heavily on your neck and you turned your face quickly, a little confused. "Fuck," you mumbled to yourself. He was a heavy sleeper, thank God. You looked down, seeing his hand on your waist and his leg over your leg. Okay, this is less than ideal. How would you get up without waking him up?

You lifted his arm carefully, freeing your waist. Then you put the leg that was free from him on the floor and pulled the other one gently. You sighed satisfied, you were free. It was not that difficult. You rolled the rest of your body slowly out of the bed, kneeling on the side of your bed, trying not to smash your face on the floor. "Jesus," you murmured getting up and looking at Tom's motionless body on the bed. You blinked a few times, focusing on his bare back, his movements almost imperceptible. He looked like an angel. But when didn't he look like that?

He moved his arm scratching his nose. You ran to the door before he could recover his conscience completely and left the room. Your mouth had that weird taste of alcohol and your head was pounding. You slowly closed the door and leaned against it, trying to remember what happened before you went to bed. You weren't that drunk so it wasn't that hard. 'You know I would never hurt you on purpose,' Tom's last words before you sleep echoed in your mind. You closed your eyes, holding the tears that started to form. Did he know?  Well, that didn't matter now. You didn't want to think about it now. You went to the kitchen and downed a glass full of water. The feeling of the liquid giving you temporary relief. You drank another one, knowing that that one would make you feel better. You leaned against the counter, staring at the dirty wine glass in the sink. "You're an idiot," you said to yourself. "Why did you let him in?" you rant to yourself putting the glass in the counter and walking around the kitchen. "He's your best friend and now he's dating. He'll hate you forever if you ruin this," you sat on a stool, hiding your face in your hands.

"Who are you talking to?" Tom said entering the kitchen and looking around.

"Jesus!" you said putting your hand in your chest. "A warning would be good."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled picking the glass you just used to drink water and pouring himself some water too.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," you said after you recovered from the shock.

"No problem. Are you okay?" he said with a concerned look, drinking the water.

"Great," you lied.

"Can you stop lying to me?" his voice was louder and a little angrier than he used to be with you.

"I-I'm not lying," you said looking everywhere but him.

"Are you serious?" he said putting the glass away and running a hand through his hair. He was pissed and that’s what he did when he was pissed.

"I'm s-sorry. I don't know what you want me to say. I'm good... everything is good... I'm sad because..." you stopped not knowing what to say next. "I don't know. Maybe PMS or whatever," you blurted out.

"Okay," he laughed humorlessly. "So, tell me something..." he looked in your eyes and you felt yourself getting smaller. "Why were you looking at pictures of me with a girl that I went out yesterday?" he asked in a deep voice and your entire body froze. "Tell me, Y/N," he took a step forward. "Why were you in your 'sadness ritual' looking at those pics?" he was so close you could feel his body invading your personal space and taking all your air away. "Do you have something to tell me?" he asked placing a hand on the counter by your side and trapping you against it. You closed your eyes, too dizzy to have this conversation now. "Anna thinks you do. And Haz too," he said.

"Tom I..." you started and noticing his glistering eyes on you. "I..." you blinked and the pics from hours ago took your entire mind. You cleared your dry throat. How was your mouth so dry? You just drank a lot of water. You hold the counter behind you. "I think you should go," you finally said.

"W-what?" he said, a confused look on his face.

"I really think you should go," you said more firmly. "I need to be by myself tonight. I'm really not feeling okay and I need some time," you pushed his arm, freeing yourself.

"I can't believe you're doing this," he said with a low and hurt voice. You just fucked up the only good thing in your life.

"Please..." you turned away from him, avoiding his look.

"You know that's not what you really want to say. You know you'll regret this. Don't do this," he reached for your arm and you pulled away from him. "Y/N."

"I don't know what you want me to do," now was your time to raise your voice. "Really? What do you want me to say?" you looked at him, you could feel your eyes burning but you were determined to keep the tears away. "Do you want me to tell you what I felt when I saw the pictures of you with a girl you invited out and didn't tell me about, God knows why. Do you want me to tell you why I felt so sad that I had to do my 'sadness ritual' to keep myself from screaming at you or broking my computer?" you said a little bitter. "You know what I have to tell you. You can pretend you don't know, you can mess around all you want, but you know that you are not ready to hear what I have to say," you rubbed your eyes, drying the tears that started to form in your eyes. "What I don't know is why are you doing this?" your voice was calmer now. You were really asking him this time. You were confused. "Why are you here? You seem to have a good thing," you said. "Go enjoy it and... let me be, please," you finished the last part in a whisper.

"You don't see it, do you?" he said and he was a lot better than you in the crying thing. He just cried, not afraid at all to show himself like that.

"What? What I don't see?" you asked crossing your arms. You were really tired of that talk.

"I don't wanna be with nobody else. I'm trying to tell you this for the last year and you keep ditching me. You don't listen to me," he said with a sad voice. "I love you. I want you. Please, don't make me go."

His words took you by surprise but you knew this wasn't as easy as it seemed. "You can't say that one day after you went on a date with another girl," you felt the hurt all over again.

"Please, Y/N. Don't do this," he reached for your arm, pulling you closer.

"I love you, but I need some time to think," you held your breath avoiding his gaze.

[drethanramslay]

Part 5: Life and Death

Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)

Word count: 4.2 K words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, torture, mention of suicide, violence slight description of blood. This chapter takes a dark turn and I am warning you guys.

Author's note: I usually keep this for the end but I just wanted to say, keep a box of tissues on standby.

Taglist: @miyakokurono @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @vampiregirlsblog @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @lilyofchoices (let me know if you want to added or removed from the tag list)

Songs: Iris by Goo Goo Dolls , Numb by Declan J Donovan , Forever and Always by Parachute

Forgive me if there are any mistakes

"Seems like we will be here for sometime." Aurora said as she slid down to sit on the floor. Iris sighed as she sat opposite her.

A beat of silence passed over them, no one knowing where to start. Many times Iris opened her mouth and closed it like a goldfish, but nothing came out.

How did we come to this?

"I'm-" Iris began.

"Sorry." Aurora blurted out.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything!!"

Aurora stammered. "I-I- I am so sorry that I called for a break when you were going through shit. I am so, so horrible and such a ginormous asshole-"

"NO." Iris moved towards and held her hands. "Do not for a second think that you are an asshole. You are an angel on this earth. A fucking blessing for my worthless self. You are- just...wow. I am so fucking lucky to have met you."

Aurora gave a small giggle. "You are not worthless babe." Iris smiled.  If she had a future, she would have spent all of the time making her smile and laugh.

"God I missed making you laugh so much.."

"I miss you too... You and me...are we good?"

Iris gave a fragile smile before sighing. "All my life, I have been alone. I had learnt from a young age that the world is evil place and that you can only depend yourself...when you left me, I could have spent a few days moping around and eventually gotten over you. It would have sucked but I would have been okay."

"Are you saying that you don't want me anymore?" Aurora's bottom lip quivered.

"No...the old me would have packed up and moved on....But I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to live alone anymore. I don't want to run anymore. I want to be with you. I want to see you happy. I want to share the good, the bad and the ugly..."

Aurora leaned forward and hugged Iris. Iris clutched on to her like she was the anchor in this shit storm. Aurora placed a kiss on her crown. A pregnant pause later, Aurora spoke up.

"Adara...what did you mean by 'don't waste tears on a dead woman'? Are you....sick?"

Iris sighed. "No I am not sick. Just that my luck is fantastic... Guess it's story time because I am just tired of hurting you and me.."

"I was adopted by Grayson Alejandro and Francesca Everette- Alejandro. My mom could not have babies as a result of a bad accident that's why they were forced to adopt. My mom loved me as if I was from her own womb, and not for a single moment did she make me feel neglected. She would sing me Spanish lullabies and hold me when the thunder would scare me. There will always be a place in my heart for her." Iris teared up a little. Aurora squeezed her tighter, not letting her go.

"My dad? Not so much. He always resented my mom for a problem which wasn't even her fault. And he hated me, because to him, I was just an outsider stealing away all his wife's love. He had his days when he he actually acknowledged that he was a  father and was a good husband... But those were so rare that I could count those instances on one hand.

When I turned ten, his business started dipping into losses. He made couple of bad investments, which just made situations worse. Instead of using his fucking brain and doing something about it, the fucker would go and get drunk. Initially, he would just head to his room and sleep it off... But then, shit hit the fan."

Iris took a deep breath, bracing herself to continue the story.

"I was home alone one day, just doing my homework on the dining table. My mom had gone out to get groceries. I was pretty comfortable staying by myself. He entered home, drunk as usual but, he was angry. I could feel his wrath, emitting from him like seismic waves. He wanted to vent it out. And what is better than a small ten year old girl-" Iris choked.

"He picked me up by the scruff of my neck and threw me across the room. I hit the wall hard and landed on my side. I was in shock. I didn't understand what had I done. When I proceeded to ask him what was wrong he became even angrier. He grabbed me by my hair and slapped me, screaming that 'I' was the reason behind his ruin. That I was just a cursed child."

"I ran to my room when I heard my mom's home keys jingling. I went to the adjacent bathroom and tried to provide first aid as best as I could. I had such a nasty bruise on my hip, that I couldn't sit for a couple days. But I played it of, and prayed that this was a one time thing."

"It again happened within three month's time. The frequency and the intensity of the beatings slowly increased. He broke my left wrist twice in a matter of eight months. He had become daring and it was becoming hard to hide it from my mom. I didn't want her to know this. She was already stressed with the financial situation and I didn't want her to be beaten up by Grayson."

"I had turned thirteen and that was the first time he made me bleed. Earlier it was just throwing me around, kicking me and a ton of nasty bruises. It was so bad. I think I had forgotten to switch off the hallway light that one night. So, he stormed into my room and dragged me out to the kitchen. He bent me over the kitchen counter and he took a steak knife-" Iris sobbed. Aurora was flabbergasted. She had tears streaming down her face.

Iris took a deep breath to centre herself. "The scars you see on the back of my legs? That was his tally. A track on how many times I misbehaved. I have 24 full lines and a half. I just lay there screaming till my throat was sore but he didn't once stop." Iris' hand unconsciously reached for the back of her legs, feeling them through her scrub material.

"Did he ever r-"

"Thankfully no. Otherwise I would have ended my damn life."

Aurora sobbed. "Please don't talk like that Adara..please.."

"I'm sorry Rory..." Iris kissed he cheek as they lay in each other's arms.

"He used to beat me up when my mom was not around. One day, she found him and the meltdown that happened..." Iris shuddered at the memory.

"Did he ever abuse your mom?"

"Emotionally? Yes. Physically? He just backhanded her once when she tried to step in. After he was done beating me black and blue, my mom would tend to my injuries. She would cry and try to kiss them better. She always put forth a strong front, to keep our hopes alive and to keep me motivated. But we knew, that nothing would ever be okay as long as he was around."

"When my mom was hospitalized, god, it was hell. He stopped me from going to school. He would lock me in my room, give me food once a day. He didn't allow me to go meet my dying mother. He tried breaking my spirit by making me weak so that he could easily treat me as his punching bag. Some days I was so bruised that I looked like a Dalmatian."

Aurora was full fledged crying. Ugly sobs poured out of her, her heart breaking for this beautiful trauma in front of her.

Iris continued, rushing to unload all her baggage. "When I got that call that she was going to die, I escaped through my window. I ran to the hospital just in the nick of time. My mom had tears in her eyes when she saw my state. I held her in my arms and comforted her, just like she used to do for me... She told me that she had collected money which was just enough for me to finish high school and get through college. She gave me her will, because she trusted absolutely no one. She apologized for not being brave enough. She told me to never let my-"

"-spirit break.." Aurora completed the sentence, remembering the night she stitched her up in the empty hospital room.

"Yeah... I said my goodbyes and she passed away in my arms. When I reached home, entering through my window, he was waiting there. He wasn't even drunk.. that day I got one of the worst thrashing ever. Broken wrist, black eyes what not. He cut of the electricity to my room. He cut the water supply to my room as well. He even went as far as to nail my window shut." Iris blinked and more tears fell on Aurora's scrub.

"How did you get out?" Aurora asked as she caressed Iris's hair.

"My room was facing my neighbor's  window and they were so close that you could look into the room. Two weeks after my mom passed away, a family moved in. My current lawyer, Thomas's room, was facing mine. When I saw him move in, I immediate stuck a help me sign on the window. It took some time but then it finally caught their attention."

"We conversed through the window and I told them everything. Thomas's dad was a lawyer and we slowly came up with a plan. They both came home one day when I was still locked in my room half dead from thirst and starvation. My father greeted them and let them in. They laughed and chatted. Thomas's even asked him if he had any children, and guess what he said... He didn't?! That motherfucker was so mental that he forgot about his daughter who he hit seven ways to Sunday."

Aurora just held on to Iris, kissing her crown repeatedly.

Shit. This just is so fucked up...

"They bugged my house with hidden cameras and microphones. The local police had been informed and they were just waiting for the right moment. And that moment came."

"Grayson was pissed when he came home that day. He unlocked my room and dragged me to the living room. He wanted me to get water for him or something but I was so weak that I couldn't even pick up a tray. So I tripped and fell. And, he went ballistic.”

“He picked me up and threw me into the coffee table. It shattered under me due to the force. The scars on my back, it was because a six inch long glass had embedded in my back. It was so close to my spinal cord that even if it would have moved a little I could have been paralyzed neck down. He kicked me so hard that I fractured my ribs. He brought his favourite steak knife to carve another tally mark. At that moment I thought I was gonna die. And, I wouldn't have minded that. I would be in a happy place with my mom. I would be free from all this."

"I waited for the final blow but it never came. Police had stormed in and they were restraining him. Paramedics were running towards me and then I blacked out."

Aurora shuddered. Her heart ached so much. Thu carry such a painful party, sure would have taken a toll on anyone. Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, to protect themselves from predators.

"Thomas's dad represented me free of cost. They were going to jail him for 25 years but I don't know how, his lawyer reduced it to 12 years. And as he was leaving the court room, he said quote unquote- ' Don't for a moment think that I am going to give up. When I come out, I am going to come for you and kill you."

"After that I stayed with the Mendez family. They were literally blessings on earth. They paid for most of my bills. Mrs, Mendez, after I came home from the hospital, made sure I ate four times a day. And Mr. Mendez employed a home tutor, to cover up the portion left, so that I could graduate on time. And Thomas, god he is such a sweetheart. Initially, if any male touched me I would go into a full fledged panic attack. He would always be there whenever I had an attack... He would watch shows with me and kept me company whenever he had free time. It had been so long since I felt someone loved me."

"You deserve every good thing in this world Adara. You are always worth it."  Iris gave a fragile smile.

"Thomas had gotten out of law school and I was his first client. I had to go through intense physiotherapy to regain my strength. I was in and out of hospitals, be it for follow-up surgery or therapy."

"Therapy helped a little but I don't think anyone can every get over something like this. I discontinued it when I entered med school because I wanted it to be a fresh start. I could have gone and worked in Seattle or any place I wanted but I came back to Boston. To my roots. To be closer to my mom. And now, he is back. I was running from him when you found me."

"Oh MY GOD. I AM GOING TO KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH. LIKE HOW DARE HE TRAUMATIZE MY GIRLFRIEND!! THE HELL HE IS GONNA LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON YOU. HE IS GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS I-" Aurora's angry rant was interrupted by a giggle.

She looked down and saw her giggling. "Gosh. OMG you look as angry as a little kitten. So cute." Iris giggled again.

"Hey! These hands can giveth life and taketh them as well."

They laughed a little more, before they settled in a comfortable silence.

"Why do you think people say I love you?" Iris asked.

"I dunno man. Maybe because they love each other." Aurora snorted, kind of confused by the sudden change in topic. Her heart was beating faster.

Oh it's happening. Aurora stay calm. STAY FUCKING CALM.

"Yeah I know but I honestly feel there is a difference in 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you'. The former is with family and friends who most of the times stay loyal to you. But the latter is when you have romantic feelings towards a person. It is just so weird y'know? There is just a difference of one word yet the meanings are so different."

"That's true. But why the sudden change in topic? Not that I mind." Aurora asked breathlessly.

Iris turned towards Aurora with vivid green eyes. "Because I am in love with you Aurora Lucille Emery."

Aurora's breath had been taken away for the second time that evening.

She loves me. SHE FUCKING LOVES ME.

With tears in her eyes, she cupped Iris' face, "I am completely and utterly in love with you too Iris Adara Everette. I have been since the day you broke Vincenzo's hand. I loved you even when we were on a break. And I will, continue loving you till the last breath."

The way Iris' face lit up, was one of the best things she had ever seen in the world. Their lips met and they could feel firecrackers burst around them, their hearts bursting with the amount of love they had for each other.

They were sitting on the floor of an elevator, which was stuck in a storm, but nobody gave a damn.

This was their moment.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So what do we do Thomas?" Aurora asked as she rubbed Iris' back. They were in Ethan's office, deciding what is the steps they need to take. Ethan was pacing in the office, his eyes looking like a slow brewing storm.

"Well first of all, we are going to apply for a protective order. Iris I know how you feel about it but that was a decade ago. The laws now will protect you better. Trust me." Thomas spoke in a very somber voice.

"Okay. Tell me what I need to do." Iris took a deep breath.

"Grayson was made aware of the restraining order filed against him by you. And since he violated them twice once by calling you and the second time by showing up at your work place, we can hold charges against him and that can throw him in a holding cell temporarily."

"That's good right? We need more time so that we can send his ass packing into prison." Aurora spoke with such determination that Iris was blown away.

"Now, Iris correct me if I am wrong, he threatened you, right?"

"Yes. He said that he would kill me. I can send you the voice recording now if you want."

"Yes, that would be perfect. Now I want you to listen to me carefully. I know that no court would be open now. So, go home and get your evidence ready. You will go to court the first thing in the morning tomorrow and sign the affidavit asking for the Protection Order. They will give you temporary one before they set a date for hearing."

"Do you have your restriction order on you right now?" Thomas asked.

"I have it with me. I will send a photo." Ethan piqued in.

"Good, good. After you assemble your evidence, go and stay in a hotel for the night. Take a friend or your girlfriend with you. It's so that nobody can get caught as collateral. And you can stay safe."

"Ethan and I will take her home and then head to a hotel." Aurora spoke into the phone.

"Yes. And I will be coming down tomorrow as soon as possible, 'kay? Luz would like to meet her aunty Iris as well."

Iris gave a small smile. "Thanks Tommy. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, bye Iris. Please stay stay and don't you fucking die."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If you don't come down in five minutes, I will call the police and the fucking army to storm your penthouse. And no, I'm not taking any criticism." Aurora spoke in a stern voice.

"Yes ma'am." Iris gave a fake salute. Despite things being bad, she felt some hope. Hope that this could end once and for all.

Hope. What a wonderful thing.

"I am going in with her." Ethan said as he unfastened his seat belt.

"Okay let's go." They both stepped out into the Boston night. Iris took a deep breath, smelling the night wind with hints of the sea. When she stepped into the lobby, she expected to see Hugh, their security guard but he wasn't there.

Huh. Strange. Must have gone to take a leak probably. Iris brushed off her doubts.

They stepped into the lift and she pressed the button to the penthouse level.

"Thank you Ethan."

"For what?"

"For helping me. You are my boss and you didn't have to-"

Ethan rolled his eyes and stopped her. "Shut up Everette. You are like a younger sister and I would really like to to see that asshole behind bars. So relax."

They reached the her home and she unlocked the door and entered.

"Go and get your stuff. I will be waiting in the living room."

Iris turned to head towards her room. She started packing her old papers, her restriction order and enough clothes for a night into a messenger bag. She was fast and thorough in her work. She was about to head out of her room when a crash and bang stopped her in her tracks.

It could not have been Ethan. Ethan was not clumsy and he had the hands of a surgeon. Stable and sure.

She picked up her trusty pocketknife and hid it in the sleeves of her leather jacket. She knew it wasn't much but it would atleast help her evade the attacker.

She slipped into the darkness, walking softly, making sure her footsteps weren't heard. She almost screamed when she saw Ethan's body, lying face down. She quickly rushed to his side, bend down and pressed two fingers to his neck.

She felt a pulse. It was weak but he would survive.

In the quiet environment of the penthouse, she heard the soft click of a gun. She froze in her place.

"He will survive. Didn't do much damage. But can't say the same about you mija. Get up. No funny moves."

Iris slowly got up. While she was at it, she sneakily speed dialed Aurora's number, so that Rory could hear some part of the conversation and call the police.

"Lift your hands."

She raised her hands above her head and turned around. "Grayson." She spat his name. She hoped that she won't be stick with this guy for a long time.

Stall him. Attack only when necessary.

"God you need to start showing me some fucking respect." He slowly stepped out of the shadows.

"I don't show respect to dickheads."

"Wow. When did you get so ballsy? The old you would be whimpering on the floor."

"I grew up. Matured with time. Can't say the same for you. You look like a wrinkly ball sack."

God Iris why can't you for once use your fucking mind and shut your trap. It's a life and death scenario, dammit.

"I'm gonna enjoy tearing you limb by limb." Iris looked around, assessing the place. The entrance was blocked by him and there was no point running into her room because that would be nothing but a dead end. The only place which looked like a safe bet was the kitchen island, where Sienna's knives set was placed. Finding the fastest route she turned her flashing eyes towards him.

"Try me bitch."

He let out a war cry and started shooting at her. Iris ducked and lithely slipped behind the island counter. She felt a twinge of pain in her arm, where the bullet grazed her but she didn't pay any attention to it. She grabbed the sharp knife and waited with bated breath.

I need to get that gun a way from him.

"Oh, so we are gonna play hide and seek huh? Ready or not here I comeee." Grayson sang out.

She waited and waited and when she saw his shadow approaching her she leaped out her hiding place and struck his hand, forcing him to drop the gun. She kicked it under the fridge. She vaulted herself with the help of the kitchen counter and kicked him in the chest.

"Now this is a fair fight." Iris gripped her knife tightly and ran towards him.

She sent a flurry of jabs and hook shots on him. He cowered, trying to block the best he could do. Her knife sliced his stomach and blood poured out in copious amount. But that victory was not very long lived. He punched her on the face, momentarily disorienting her. He took the hand with the knife and smacked it against his kneecap, resulting in her to drop her weapon.

"You bitch!!" He aimed for her in the stomach again but this time, she was prepared. She blocked and hit both her hands on his temples. She then thrust her palm upwards, breaking his nose.

"You should plan for retirement, probably in a jail cell asshole." Iris taunted, enjoying the blood gushing down his face. She knew it was sadistic but this man, tormented her for six consecutive years. He deserved worse.

"Aaarrghhhhh!!!" He tackled her and landed on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. He wrapped his hands around her throat and started choking. "I wanted to extend this playtime with you but you aren't being cooperative-" he squeezed some more. Iris was choking and her vision was getting darker on the periphery.

I won't go like this.

Iris started flapping her legs, trying to get a good hit but, Grayson's grip was tight. "Adios, puta."

"Why don't you adios your ass outta here!!" Aurora screamed as she hit his head with a baseball bat.

If iris wasn't half unconscious, she would have found it hot. Coughing, she tried to get large gulps of air into her screaming lungs.

Aurora was relentless, she continued to beat the fucking shit out of him. She hit him so hard that the fucking bat broke. Iris had her jaw on the floor. She tried to get up but a sharp pain went up her hand and leg. She saw that she has another bullet embedded in the meaty part of her thigh, bleeding profusely. Her wrist was sprained and she had a black eye.

Grayson, even though he looked more like human pulp, kicked Aurora's legs out and she fell. That guy is like a cockroach, Iris groaned internally. They wrestled and stood up. There were punches and curses thrown at each other. He was about to attack Aurora when gunshots rang through the air. The police were at the door and they had shot.

Grayson collapsed and groaned in pain. Aurora stood there, catching her breath. She slowly let out a long breath. She turned towards Adara and smiled. She tried walking to her, but she stumbled.

Falling.

"RORY NO!!" Iris dived forward, ignoring the pain in her leg, to catch the falling woman. She caught her in her arms and when she looked down, she saw a knife sticking out from her stomach. Blood was just pouring out fast and pooling around them, like a red halo.

"Rory you fucking idiot." Iris cried out.  She took out her top and pressed against the wounds but, there were too many stab wounds.

That son of a bitch!!

"Don't worry..... Doesn't hurt." Aurora wheezed out, but she winced.

"Don't fucking lie to me. Why would you fucking do that?!" Iris cried out, feeling completely and utterly helpless. She tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure, but it didn't help. More and more blood poured out, just like a river.

"We need EMT's right now. We have three casualties and two of them are severely injured." The policewoman spoke into her com.

"You...are free...now." Aurora gasped out. The pain was too much. Too damn much.

"What is even the fucking point of being free when you are not there?!" Iris cried as she pressed her head against Aurora's.

"I...love you...so much.. I am so-" Aurora coughed, and blood coating her lips. "-so greatful to have...met you."

"No Rory!! I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, adopt children with you. Get fat and old with you. Spend every waking moment beside you. I love you so fucking much, I can't see my future without you in it. Don't you get it?! There is no 'me' without you!!"

Tears rolled down Aurora's eyes. At this point, it was hard to differentiate whose tears they were. "I am so lucky...to die in the arms of a...woman I love...nobody gets...that."

The darkness was slowly calling out to Aurora like a siren. It was so so easy to just slip into the other side. So tempting. There was just a single rope tethering her to the world.

Iris. Her Adara. Her little red.

"Rory NO!! You feel fucking stay alive for me okay?! You are gonna fucking fight this and survive. I just can't loose another person I love to that son of a bitch!!"

"It's okay little red... Go live your life for the two of us....Make me ...prou-"

"RORY FUCKING NO!! HEY LEMME GO HEY- RORY PLEASE BABY STAY ALIVE STAY-"

.....

...

..

.

I had to take breaks while writing this because it became so hard to type with blurry eyes.

before you guys come at me with pitchforks, there is an EPILOGUE. Be on the lookout, you do NOT want to miss that.

Thank you for giving me a chance to share this story with you guys:)

[modestlyabsurd]

Alight Pt. 2 (Loki x Reader)

You were certain things couldn't get worse. That was the stupidest assumption ever. Now you're on the verge of actually believing it to be true - after over 24 hours without food, water, or light - but you will not make that same mistake again.

It can always get worse. You already knew that, though. Which is one reason you're pretty sure you're going insane.

One might think the lack of nourishment would be quick to drive someone crazy. And yes, this deficit will inevitably result in death, however the real highway to delirum is the absence of light. Of guidance, of sight. Light is what maintains balance. After all, complete darkness is arguably the lowest point in existence. It's the closest sense of death. Silence and darkness. That's you, right? That'd be a more accurate name than Doe 618: silence and darkness.

Who would've thought a day without your lightbulb would emit such deep thoughts?

A lukewarm bowl of oatmeal or rice pudding would be nice, very nice, but all you want is your lightbulb. Well, a new lightbulb; thanks to Dickhead who took it upon himself to slam the old on on the floor after unscrewing it from the rinky-dink bed lamp. The pitiful little pile of shards lay in the corner since there's nowhere in your cell to "clean it up".

Not to mention: no dustpan. Your hands still distantly throb and burn from tiny little cuts in your palms. Having to lick them was a reminder of the coppery taste of blood, and how much you hate it.

Without even the entertainment of food, you've been left with no one but your fucking self. The edge of sanity is right there. Just one too many scenarios of Banner and Strange either failing, giving up, or not trying at all and you'd be a nutcase.

The mere thought of the doctors - of any aspect of the past, really - makes your head ache. You can't keep doing this. Sure, if only you hadn't went through with the stupid idea in the first place everything would be fine, but that's not what happened.

It is what it is. Even if it fucking sucks.

Amid the usual white noise of shuffling and talk from other inmates, heavy disgruntled footsteps interrupt it. A periodic scraping sound against the concrete floor grabs your attention; as the steps get closer the smell wafts into your cell.

Okay. Either your brain is betraying you completely, or they're actually serving something appetizing for breakfast. The former seems more likely. Warmth fills the cold industrial air and it becomes clear that you're in fact not crazy. These motherfuckers are dishing up some decent food.

The sweet smell of toast, cinnamon, maybe even jam or fruit. Your stomach rumbles fiercely, desperately. It's not until you're bouncing at the cell door and you feel the sweat coating your palms that you realize what you've become; a dog, caged and hungry. It takes a second longer, when the scraping of food trays against the floor stops, that that's exactly what they wanted.

The footsteps approach your cell, and keys jingle before the smell flows into your cell freely. The first bit of light pours in as well. It's blinding. But Dickhead's large shadow helps with that.

Your appetite almost disappears. Almost. But when Mobius strides in behind him, it's gone.

"Wide awake, huh?" Mobius drawls. His mustache rises with his ugly smile. "It's so dark in here. What happened to your lamp?"

Dickhead smirks in the darkness.

"Hm. The bulb must've went out. Go get me another one from the supply closet," he commands his guard. A part of you relishes in Dickhead's embarrassing reminder of who's in charge of who.

He hands the tray of food to Mobius before fetching, leaving the cell door open. Leaving Mobius alone with you for the first time since you've been here.

"You look hungry." He motions to the food tray, "French toast, honey, bacon and eggs. All cooked fresh just a while ago. I thought I'd give everyone a little something special."

There's something different here. A new element, and with every small step backward you feel it. You're not in the interrogation room. He's now intruded on your quarters. There's no retreat.

"But I have to be fair. I'm a man of my word, and we made an agreement."

Agreement? What, his order of no food until you speak? You agreed to nothing! The thought of knocking the tray out of his hands is tempting. But you don't.

"Are you ready to tell me your name? Little doe?" he whispers. Your mind goes to the glass shards in the corner. The big one.

In spite of yourself, in spite of your fear and your hunger and your sanity, you remain silent. Without breaking eye contact. Without question.

Seconds pass as slow as days, and Mobius disappointedly places the tray on the floor. His back's turned. The door's open. Run! you scream at yourself. But you don't.

A heavy sigh cuts the tension as Dickhead's frame comes through the door. It was right there.

"Thank you," says Mobius as he takes the lightbulb. It was right there.

The outside light conceals Mobius' eyes through the glare of his glasses. He shakes his head and tuts his tongue. You see Dickhead's jaw clenching angrily. Wonder if he knows just how stupid he looks.

Mobius steps closer to you. His shoes echoing, his presence burning your chest. Something holds you in place. Either achoring stubbornness or crippling fear; it matters not when he's close enough for you to kill. Close enough to kill you.

He holds the lightbulb between you. "Here. Take it. I even have some reading material if you'd like."

You would. Some sort of escape would be nice. No more darkness. Just moments ago that's all you wanted in the world; this lightbulb. Now you're not so sure if you want anything from the greasy hands of Mobius.

His eyes are clear now. Black, beady, and not blinking. Like a shark on its prey.

"I can tell you're gonna be a tough nut to crack." He bends to your level and your teeth grind when his hot, stale breath fans your nose. "But everything cracks under the right amount of pressure."

Mobius crushes the lightbulb in his fist.

~

He can't believe it!

Those charged with maintaining the universe's timelines detect his presence but cannot for the life of them figure out anything. He could lay out the answers in plain sight, and they would still not know. Or not believe him. But isn't that the fun? Blurring the lines? Between one reality to another, between what is true and what is a lie. That's where things get interesting.

The fools are eating out of the palm of his hand.It won't be long they'll believe he's working for The Avengers. Oh, that'll be such fun.

Just when that little bit of innocent mischief returns, Loki is reminded of his purpose. He mustn't forget. The world needs restoration. He means to rule it, not burrow in captivity.

While the nightly reminders aren't so kind, this little interlude isn't so bad. Especially since this morning he was served something besides porridge. Not that it was spectacular or anything, but it did hit a sweet spot in his tastes.

As he chewed the soggy toast in silence, he fights off the pestering thoughts of failure. The invading thoughts of another entity, not his own. He knows he hasn't failed. He saw the flaws in the plans of The Other from the start. The irate, brainless creature.

He doesn't even care if his thoughts can be heard at this point. The strength of the humans shouldn't have been underestimated. He was right all along.

Even though he didn't get far in his travels through the Tesseract. Even with his capture by the Time Variance Authority. This is far from over. This is just the beginning.

So why not take a break from the game?

"You're really starting to piss me off," the brutish guard who patrols the wing states - loud enough to tear Loki out of his own head. Ooh, the mysterious neighbor again!

This time he listens, he really listens, thinking that they must be provoking the guard somehow. But just like before, he hears nothing from them.

"You're gonna tell me your fucking name."

A series of crashes are heard through the concrete walls. The throwing of objects. The sound of the struggle makes Loki wince.

The sound of a shriek lifts his eyes wide open.

"You bitch!" the guard yells. He groans in pain and the struggle ceases. Oh what he would do to know the details!

A moment without words passes and Loki believes the ordeal has ended for the day.

"L/N," a fiery voice says.

"What?" asks the guard in disbelief.

"You can go tell Mobius ... that L/N is the one who cut your fucking cheek open."

~

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[airconditioningshelbyville]

Air cooling Repair - First Procedure for Do that By Yourself

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[westanabadguy]

No Akatsuki AU: Hidan

Where would Hidan’s path had led if the Akatsuki didn’t exist/didn’t recruit him?

-First off, he wouldn’t have his canon clothes for the obvious reason that, y’know, he can’t wear a cloak that doesn’t exist. Here’s an admittedly terrible mock up of something I figured he’d wear:

So, I could’ve gone and just said, “He’d look the same, just with no cloak”, but his design would be hella boring. He’d literally just be wearing a pair of black pants lmao. This outfit is heavily inspired by what the anime had him wearing in his recruitment flashback, but modified to make it more visually interesting, in my admittedly very uneducated fashion opinion. Decided to stick very closely to his canon colors, as I feel they fit him. All leather bby.

- After he kills his neighbors and flees his home village, he wanders for a looong time. He, of course, just kills freely along the way. Any poor sap that crosses his path ends up sacrificed. 

-He loves his new found freedom. It’s just him and his God. No stupid, weak village to hold him back or tell him what to do.

-Eventually, however, his reputation catches up with him. He hasn’t exactly kept his blood trail discrete, after all. He’s very easy to follow.

-After countless attacks and bounty hunters, he finally puts two brain cells together and decides to go on the down low. He hates it, but even he knows he can’t fit off swarms of bounty hunters and Ninja forever. It’s getting in the way of potential sacrifices as well, now that his face is relatively well known.

-While he’s trying to drop off the radar, he stumbles across a small Jashinist cult, hidden away under the guise of a small off the maps village. Whether it’s Jashin’s will or dumb luck, is up to interpretation. It was dumb luck.

-At first, he’s excited. Unfortunately, it seems this sect is actually not as... enthusiastic as Hidan. Most of them, anyways. They don’t perform nearly as many sacrifices as him, and are more focused on other’s people’s pain than sharing it. None of them are immortal like Hidan, so they can’t perform the curse seal as he can.

-Long story, short. Hidan kills most of them. He demands, that as Jashin’s chosen one, he should be the natural leader. The current leaders of the cult were not fans of this. The leaders of the cult were also, unfortunately for them, not at all a match for him. Taking the role of leader, he weeds off those who refuse him or he doesn’t see potential in. Which is a good chunk of them, tbh.

-Now, with control of the sect, and the few he saw potential in and didn’t sacrifice, he stays low and begins to bolster their ranks once more. No one gets in without his approval, of course. His most trusted followers leave in search of new members, since Hidan is remaining low for the time being.

-He tries to turn more members in immortals through the same set of rituals that he went through, but none of them survive. Still, he persists.

-Of course, eventually as the cult grows bigger and bigger, and more people begin to disappear, he gets found out again. But it’s a bit too late to stop him now, since the cult is now numbering in the hundreds.

-He reaches S rank as he was in the canon universe because of this.

How it could tie into the canon universe:

-Naruto and Co are sent to investigate the deaths and missing persons in the area. It’s basically one big murder mystery. I always liked the Wave arc more than any other arc, and I’ve always hated that they never went and explored more of the other countries like that. Maybe this could take them to the Land of Hot Water?

-Hidan is found at the center of this, obviously, and there could be a lot of ways this plays out.

-It could play out like it did in the canon universe, where he kills Asuma or some other minor character and gets shit on again.

-Or, maybe a redemption arc of some kind? Naruto talks him down, or maybe he scores his first “kill” against him, and that’s how they figure out he’s immortal. Maybe he decapitates him, or shows off his new abilities as he did in the original Kakuzu/hidan fight, and feels guilty afterwards. Kakuzu’s not there to save his ass this time, so no way for him to recover from that. But then Hidan starts talking and they’re all like ???????. So, they take him into questioning, head detached from body and all.

-From here, Konoha could either turn him into Yugakure to do as they please, or take him in and decide to use his abilities since Yugakure is now demilitarized. How they would control him, I really don’t know. Maybe tell him he’d be allowed to kill enemies of Konoha as he pleases, with their protection so other countries wouldn’t fuck with him anymore, similar to the deal the Akatsuki strikes with him? Maybe he takes interest in someone there for whatever reason and they have to deal with his dumbassery for comedic affect?

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {7}

Chris Evans X Reader Vixen Giovanni

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Plot, Angst, Slow Burn

Word Count: 2.9K

Note: Bold Italics are Chris’ inner thoughts. Italics are Vixen’s inner thoughts

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️ ❤️

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

Chapter 7: Times Change

-Chris-

 “Welcome Chris Evans to the show.”

 The audience’s applause was deafening. He took a deep breath, released it, flipped his mental switch, and plastered a smile on his face as he walked out to the view of the audience. Once they saw him, he smiled wider and waved to them as he made his way to the talk show hosts of “The Real.” He greeted each of them with a hug and a cheek kiss as his mother taught him. When he sat down the applause and cheers didn’t stop, they continued. He laughed to himself, feeling even more embarrassed than he had a few moments ago. Slowly the audience calmed down and took their seats.

    “Do you ever get used to that?”

    He smiled at Adrianne’s question and scoffed before he shook his head.

    “No, never. It’s not something you just relax into.”

    “So it’s still weird?

    “Yes, because keep in mind at home with my family I’m just Chris I don’t get greeted with applause, more like a slap to the back of the head. We’re Bostonians we’re not with the pomp,” he explained.

    The audience laughed.

  “But you’ve been in Hollywood for a few years, more than a decade, right? At some point it has to be “oh more cheering, yawn,” Tamara expressed.

    “No, it’s always flattering but never boring. I’m a shy guy, a quiet guy.”

    “You are now for the last three years. Before that you had your fair share of tabloid stories, right? Loni brought up.

    He smiled and nodded. He knew those years would catch up to him. He wasn’t ashamed of them per se, but he did wish he’d practiced more discretion and stiffer selectiveness.

   “You’re right. In my younger years, I was a little wild, but I think we can chop that up to being young, especially in Hollywood, everyone spins out of control and rebels underneath the scrutiny. I’m no different. I did have a few years where I didn’t care at all about anything but a good time,” he candidly admitted.

 “That’s understandable. The only difference with you and every person in the world is you had paparazzi and cameras in your face to catch it. My dad called it sowing your wild oats.”

    The audience laughed at Jennie’s comment, and he couldn’t stifle the laugh.

    “There was no sowing, but I get the analogy.”

   The audience laughed louder and clapped.

    “You’ve played Captain America for a long time, right?”

     “Yes, quite a while, eight years.”

   Again, the audience clapped.

    “If and when the role ends are you looking forward to playing other roles?” Tamara asked.

   “Uh, yes. I’m looking forward to a few different kinds of roles, maybe none so active. Maybe a few I can eat a cheeseburger or fries without worrying if it’ll throw me off. I miss carbs.”

    The audience laughs like clockwork. It never ceased to amaze him how rudimentary these interviews were.

    “So you want to get rid of the superhero body. I know that day will be a sad one for millions of women around the world,” Adrianne suggested.

    “Ha, ha, well then maybe I’ll be liked for my brains then.”

   “Oh, I see.”

    “Yeah, I get taken for a pretty face and a body all the time. I get women wanting to touch my chest and stuff like that. I mean don’t get me wrong I appreciate the fans--,”

    “But you’re more than that. We get it.”

    The audience awed, and he nodded somberly. He didn’t know why he was being so frank.

   “So you’re how old now?”

    “Thirty-seven.”

    “I have a question. What does Chris Evans want in his life right now?”

    He thought about it, but he knew he didn’t have to think too deeply. He knew what he wanted, and it was a cruel joke by the universe.

    “Uh, well honestly if I’m going to be truthful and not care how it makes me sound then I really want kids.”

    “Kids?”

    The audience collectively gasped and exclaimed their shock then applauded as if this was music to their ears.

    “Yeah, I do. I like pretty pedestrian, domestic things. I want a wife; I want kids. I like ceremony. I want to carve pumpkins and decorate Christmas trees and shit like that,” he professed.

   “Wow.”

    “Yeah, normally I wouldn’t say that but what the hell.”

    He shrugged and leaned back into the chair some more.

    “I went through the time in my life where I was all about work and career and having fun and no attachments and stupid stuff like that and sad to say it’s true. Men go through these phases, and eventually, they get to the settling down phase and either it’s at the right time as the woman in his life or its sort of like a hit and miss situation.”

   “Are you speaking from experience?” Jeannie asked.

    He smirked and shrugged again this time not wanting to reveal too much. The interview continued for another ten minutes where he spoke about filming and his relationship with the rest of the cast and before he knew it time was up, and he was glad for it. He thanked the ladies and the audience and hurried backstage to make his exit. As he made his way to the next stop, he got lost on his phone just scrolling aimlessly through social media not taking in anything in particular.

     The rest of the day passed in a blur; he made six more stops at different talk shows where they asked relatively the same question, and he told similar stories. It was a job filming, and a job doing all of this in between. He was looking forward to some much-needed downtime. He was exhausted. He looked out the window and happened to catch the name of a passing strip club “Vixen’s” and again he was brought back to memories of her. He thought back to the last night he’d seen her, the amazing time they had at his house—in his bed. He could still smell her scent and taste her on his lips but only faintly. The years hadn’t been kind to the memory of her although he wished more and more with each passing year that it would.

    After a few days, his memory came back of their time in Vegas and the events that led to him marrying her. He remembered all he’d shared; all she’d shared and the feeling of connection he felt to her. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol heightening things or if it were real. Either way, he couldn’t trust it then. She was a stranger, and at that time in his career, he’d had his share of crazy women who tried any and everything to be in his life and grab a piece of everything it meant to be with him. He learned the hard way about what being famous meant. He couldn’t trust she was any different, plus marriage was not something he had on his radar then.

    “Funny what three years changes.”

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headrest and did what he’d done countless times. Thought of her. He thought of her hair, her eyes, the way her smile looked and even the way her hips swayed when she walked. He thought of her, and it didn’t take him long to begin to imagine what if. What if he’d made the wrong assumptions about her? What if there could have been something between them? What if? Then those thoughts made him ultimately feel regret. He hated the feeling of regret. He’d lived his life to the maximum for the reason of him not wanting to ever feel regret for anything. He’d never felt it before, but with her, it was stronger than he liked. The vibrations from his phone brought him out his thoughts.

     “Hello?”

    “I’m throwing a party tonight, and you have to come,” Anthony shouted into his ear.

   “What’s the occasion?”

    Do I ever need one?

    He didn’t. Anthony liked to throw parties, and he threw the biggest, wildest ones. He’d gotten infamous for his parties as well as his acting chops.

    “All right,” he agreed.

  “Nice, that was easy. Maybe tonight we’ll find you a woman. I’m tired of single you. You gotta settle down, man,” Anthony voiced.

    Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head. For the last eight months, Anthony had been setting him up with almost everyone in Hollywood. He set him up with actresses, comedians, models, and even agents. No one stood out, and most importantly, no one stuck around. By date four he’d either have lost interest or found something about them that he didn’t like. He wasn’t picky, but he had a mental list that he wanted his wife and eventual mother of his children to meet.

    “I don’t know if they’ll meet that list in your head bruh, I don’t think there is a woman alive that could meet that list. Or if there are any, they’re already married. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying.”

   “I haven’t thought about that list in months,” he lied.

    “Bullshit! Man, you not fooling anyone.”

    He laughed and shook his head again. They’d been friends for so long that he could easily see through him.

    “I’ll be there. I gotta go.”

    “All right.”

   Chris ended the call and sighed out. Everyone loved to make fun of his list. He wasn’t amused.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-That Night-

  When he walked through the massive privacy gate at Anthony’s house, the party was in full swing. Music was blasting from every crevasse of the property, and the cheers and screaming could be heard. He knew his neighbors hated him. He passed a few people who nodded to him and tried to talk to him. He smiled as he passed some familiar faces and some he’d never seen before. As he made his way inside the house, he bobbed and weaved through the bodies in search of Anthony. If he knew anything, he’d be in the pool. He made it to the back of the house to the infinity pool and found the man of the hour lounging on a pool float with two women beside him. He scoffed because Anthony always had women hanging off him. They just flocked to him, and he didn’t shy away from the attention.

   “Hey, Hey, Hey, it’s Captain America!” Sam shouted. Everybody surrounding the pool erupted in boisterous cheers.

    “Glad you could make it.”

     Anthony slid off the float and swam to the edge of the pool before he climbed out and pulled him into a hug. Chris groaned, feeling his polo get wet.

     “Really, man?”

   “Ah, it’s water it’ll dry. Come on there’s someone I want you to meet,” Anthony said, leading him towards the side of the house where he saw a pretty woman sitting on a chaise. As they approached, she looked to him and looked him over once before she bit her bottom lip and stood.

    “Milla, I’m glad you stuck around. I want you to meet Chris; Chris meet Milla.”

    She smiled widely and held out her hand to him. Chris shook it returning the smile.

    “Nice to meet you, Milla. How do you know Anthony?”

   “We’re starring in a little indie film together.”

    “Milla is great, she’s funny, and her favorite sport is baseball guess which team,” Anthony informed, looking at him with a smile big enough to show the gap between his teeth.

     “Red Sox,” he guessed.

     “Damn right, no better team,” Milla piped up.

 Chris nodded unimpressed. There had been countless women who claimed the Red Sox was their favorite because they were his and when it came down to it they didn’t know the difference between a home run and a touchdown. He smiled politely.

    “Isn’t that great? Anyway, I’ll be getting back in the pool. You two should chat, get to know each other.” Just like that he dove back into the pool to the gleeful squeals of his arm candy. Chris shook his head because he was as subtle as a freight train in the middle of the night.

     “How long have you known Mac?”

      “Too long,” Chris answered. She laughed more loudly than necessary.

     “He’s great. I remember I was so nervous the first day of the shoot and he was so nice, put me right at ease,” Milla offered.

     “That’s Anthony; he’s a great guy.”

    “Wanna get a drink?”

   He didn’t, but he took a deep breath and nodded before he followed her to the bar inside. For the next near hour, he talked with her. She told him about her life before she’d come to Hollywood, told him about her dreams of making it big to see her billboards on every street corner. He nodded politely and listened. He didn’t want to be rude although he knew the minute he learned she liked the Red Sox he probably wouldn’t take things further.

     When she slinked off to the bathroom, he made his escape. His freedom was short-lived, Scarlett caught him and called him out.

     “I was wondering how long it would take you before you ran,” she said.

   “Man I should have run long ago.”

     “What’s wrong with this one?”

    The look on Scarlett’s face said this wasn’t new and she never expected him to like her. He sighed and raked his fingers through his groomed hair then rubbed his bearded chin and shrugged.

    “Come on, don’t be shy. Was it the way she laughed like the last one?”

    He snorted, the last girl one of his friends particularly Seb set him up with laughed uncannily close to a hyena and there was no way he could overlook that. After two dates, he couldn’t take it anymore.

    “No, not her laugh. Okay. Was it because she had too many hand motions?”

     Chris laughed this time. The other girl Anthony set him up with looked as if she worked for NASCAR with all the hand motions she used while she was speaking. It got to the point where it distracted him every time she opened her mouth. After almost a month of dates, he’d had enough.

    “No, not the hand motions. Okay let’s see,” Scarlett pondered out loud.

    He shook his head because he knew what she was getting at. His friends thought he was picky and hard to please, and they took every opportunity to point it out. He wasn’t picky; yes, he had a particular list, but it didn’t go as deep as laugh sounds, or hand motions or even looks. If he were going to build a relationship, a connection and ultimately a life and family with someone they needed to be appealing to him otherwise he’d be yet another celeb with a divorce or two under his belt. Hell, he already had one under his belt.

     “Ah, I got it. She just wasn’t this imaginary, ideal woman you’ve created in your head. She couldn’t stack up to that woman you’ve been holding every one of them next to.”

    He looked to her because something about her words hit him in a way that made him wonder if she was right. He never thought he’d created any ideal woman and definitely didn’t think he was comparing these women to anyone. Was he?

    “The rate you’re going that wife and kid slip further and further away,” Scarlett warned.

     “So I should settle for just anything?”

    “Absolutely not. Never settle. You should broaden your horizon, give people a chance. One hour of conversation isn’t nearly enough to come to a correct assumption of someone’s character, let alone if there is anything between you.”

    “You know that saying when you know you know? Well, it works both ways good and bad,” he defended.

    “What about Lita?”

    Chris softly groaned as he remembered the last semi-serious relationship he’d had. They dated without commitment for almost nine months. Their agreement was whenever they had time for each other, they would try, but otherwise, neither of them would take it personally. It was something he came up with. The last couple months of filming Captain America hit him hard and loneliness set in something fierce, and he met her at an award’s luncheon, and they struck up a friendship that morphed into an equally beneficial relationship. There was nothing wrong with Lita, she seemed like a nice person, down to earth, funny, beautiful and smart just things fizzled, and he didn’t make any effort to rekindle them he just let it die.  

    “She managed to stick around for nine months; then she was gone like the wind. I only met her once, but you seemed like you liked her. Maybe that deserves another round,” Scarlett suggested. He thought about it for a minute. If he did reach out, would it because it was what he wanted, or would it be him settling?

    The rest of the party chugged on like all of Anthony’s parties. The music was good, the drinks even better and the good time never ended. By the time two rolled around, he was partied out and just wanted the quietness of his own home. He said his goodbyes to Anthony, who tried to fish for details about his time with Milla. One look from him and Anthony knew he was thinking Milla who. After saying a quick bye to Scarlett and Seb, he got back into his sports car and sped home.

     By four in the morning, he was sitting at his pool looking out to the moon with a stiff drink in hand and head filled with thoughts. He took out his phone and sent a message to Lita. Desperation was always blamed for bad decisions, but loneliness was equally to blame.

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

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[brendamariesmith]

What TO Stock for An APOCALYPSE, PART FIVE (Updated)

KNOWLEDGE and a set of OLD-FASHIONED SURVIVAL SKILLS will probably serve you better after a cataclysm than almost anything else.

 If you spend time ruminating on all the things that happen in America and the rest of the modern world, things that keep us alive and generally healthy, you will notice a nearly unfathomable list of occurrences in the background of our lives—goods and services we consider essential but never stop to think about. (Though COVID-19 has forced us to think about many of them now.)

 Aside from water, food, and electricity, there are sewers, healthcare systems (such as they are), public health departments, libraries, roads, transportation, infrastructure, law and order, government, police and fire departments, medicines, education, art, music, news from near and far, the internet, an endless array of things to buy if we can afford them, innumerable places to travel, and gobs of stuff competing for our time. Much or even all of this would break down and be gone in a true apocalypse. The people who survive will be those who know how to handle much of this stuff themselves.

 Since this list is so endless, and because my purpose is not to bore you to death with details, my exhortation to you readers is to please do your best to learn how to survive and prepare on your own. Given the rapid pace of climate change, even if we don’t fall all the way into apocalypse, we are likely to be forced to scale way the hell back. We should scale back. We need to scale back. We all know that the Earth cannot sustain our pre-pandemic lifestyles.

 For the record, I am not a prepper. I do not go around freaking out about the coming End of Days. But I do cogitate on these things from time to time, and I write novels about possible scenarios. In my novels, I took a different route than the standard apocalyptic tale. My assumption is that it would take a great deal of time for civilization to fully collapse. At least initially, much human morality and compassion will remain. If people try hard to work together, and if the situation allows, they can keep the deterioration from becoming complete.

So, become men, women, and children of the New Renaissance and learn how things work and alternative ways to do them, practice old skills and learn new ones, stretch your brains and your imaginations. Toward that end, here are some of the areas that we all need to bone up on, aside from what I have already discussed in earlier posts:

·         Learn and practice old-fashioned skills like: soap-making; candle-making; laundry without electricity or plumbing; knitting; sock-darning; fire-building; quilting; basketry; rope-making; carpentry; gravity-fed plumbing; hair cutting; butter churning; cheese making; chair caning; furniture building; cabinetry; glass-making; log-splitting; barn building; shoe-making; the creation of eyeglasses; dentistry; the making, patching, and mending of clothes; spinning and weaving; undertaking; nutrition; sanitation; the making of acoustical music and natural art.

·         Study outhouses and ways of keeping them sanitary. They can spread deadly disease if they aren’t well-managed. Composting toilets are a great way to go, but they still have to be clean, preferably with something that actually kills germs. And you have to know where to dig an outhouse if you want to keep your groundwater clean. I once lived on a commune. Before I got there, dozens of people got hepatitis from drinking water downstream from a neighbor’s outhouse. Don’t repeat that mistake.

 ·         While I am neither a gun owner nor a fan of guns, and I’m not an alarmist or someone who wants to see more guns stockpiled in this world, you may need a means of protecting yourself. You’ll want to learn self-defense.

 ·         You will need bicycles, wagons, carts, dollies, wheelbarrows, skateboards, roller skates, buggies with horses and food to feed them—ways to get around and to haul heavy stuff: Ropes, chains, skids, etc.

·         If you can, start stocking critical supplies: soaps, matches, toilet paper, pens, pencils, paper, pulleys, candles, needles and thread, yarn, ladders, toothbrushes and toothpaste, tools, knives, woodstoves, grills, firewood, water and food storage containers, charcoal, clothing, shoes, kerosene, bleach, lime, wind-up radios (which will charge cell phones, if the phones still work), wind-up flashlights, washing tubs, buckets and bins, clotheslines and clothespins, washboards, boots, shoes, long underwear, batteries, lighters, good jackets, and socks—lots and lots of socks.

  ·         You will need to know about medical care, including the standard Western medicine we practice now, plus Eastern medicine and folk medicine. You’ll want to know how to grow medicinal plants and herbs, and you should stockpile basics: whatever meds you personally need to stay alive, as well as aspirin, antibiotics, antacids, anti-diarrheals, Tylenol, beaucoup asthma inhalers, insulin and other diabetic meds, blood pressure meds, first-aid supplies, splints, crutches, wheelchairs, IV equipment and fluids, scalpels, pump respirators, stethoscopes, otoscopes, blood pressure cuffs, tweezers, vitamins, minerals, skin creams, sunscreen, antibiotic and cortisone ointments, CBD oil, on and on and on.

·         You’ll need the means to educate your children and to continue learning yourselves.

·         You’ll want things to help you pass the time—especially the long winter nights with poor lighting: board games, card games, dice games, jacks, paddle balls, outdoor sports equipment, hobby stuff, acoustic musical instruments, art supplies, those balls you roll around in your hands when you’re tense, and BOOKS, BOOKS, BOOKS.

More than anything, you’ll need quick wits, unbending determination, and people to love.

Here are many of my reasons to stay alive and to NEVER, EVER GIVE UP:

And whatever you do, DO NOT forget the duct tape!

  To see how my unlikely apocalyptic hero, seventy-year-old Bea Crenshaw, shepherds her grandkids and neighbors through the aftermath of a solar pulse, check out IF DARKNESS TAKES US on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Darkness-Takes-Brenda-Marie-Smith-ebook/dp/B07WK9BQHN or order it from your favorite indie bookstore:

The sequel, IF THE LIGHT SHOULD COME, will be out June 2021 from SFK Press.

 STAY TUNED FOR THE FINAL INSTALLMENT OF “WHAT TO STOCK FOR AN APOCALYPSE.”

NEXT: SUMMING UP