#on the first of may it'll have been two years since it all went down

[lord-radish]

I just reblogged a post about PTSD, and it gave a lot of examples of PTSD criteria that are often overlooked that really resonated with me.

I'm gonna go over the former best friend stuff. Right away I'm gonna say I'm pretty sure things are gonna go back way before any of that other stuff happened, but the former best friend stuff is the most recent and the most raw.

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The criteria I'm using are on an Australian governmental website called Healthline. I'll be posting the criteria and discussing its applicability to the situation. I'm also going to read a webpage for an Australian mental health organisation called Beyond Blue.

Symptoms of PTSD, according to Healthline:

re-experiencing the trauma

I don't think about the actual event all that much, where I realised my friend had gotten with a girl I had been hung up on for about a year. It was less "why doesn't she love me", because she had let me down easy and was seeing other people and I was moving on, and more "how could my friend have done this to me", because I had confided in him about the crush for the entire time I had it and I was already having inadequacy issues with him and severe self-confidence issues.

The initial trauma, where I realised what was going on and blew up at my friend, is embarrassing but not something I revisit very often. What gets me is the thought that he's going to try and come back into my life, or I'm going to be trapped in a room or a conversation with him, or people are going to expect me to be around him and like pressure me to forgive him. It's the thought of going back, or being forced into a stressful situation, that gets me.

repetitive memories (or flashbacks) that are hard to control and intrude into everyday life

The recurring memories that get me are related to the moment where I realised I wouldn't be trying to go back to the friend group any more. It's the entire chain of reasoning that led to me leaving for good.

It's a laundry list of things he did that I didn't like and actively made me uncomfortable or upset, but which he did anyway because he thought it was funny. The first day we hung out outside of school, we went to the pool with another friend. They both got out, and when I went to get out, they started tredding on my hands and arms so I couldn't. I swam to the other side, but they'd beat me over there and keep stepping on me.

What struck me about remembering that in the wake of the girl thing is that it formed the foundation of our friendship, and going forward he would do things just like that - things that he would do to me that I didn't like, but which he did anyway because he thought it was funny. That was the foundation our entire friendship was built on. It was there from the start.

nightmares

Nightmares have always been few and far between for me, thank god. I don't have nightmares.

extreme distress caused by reminders of the trauma

At one point, I would start hyperventilating and crying whenever something happened that would reopen the wound. There have been times since I started working that this has almost happened at work. I'm always in flight mode when I'm in public, especially when I'm around where he works, and even more so when it's the time of the day I've seen him around and run into him after work. I'll have one of those one-sided mental conversations when I'm in bed or at work, and I'll need to let it play out and go over my rebuttals because otherwise it's just the thought of someone trying to force their way back into my life.

memories or disturbing thoughts that can be prompted by smells, sounds, words or other triggers

I have a hard time whenever I see his name, or the name of his girlfriend. I need to rush past it and forget I ever saw it. Both names are fairly common too.

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The next set of criteria deal with avoidance.

staying away from places, people or objects that may trigger memories of the traumatic event

My former best friend used to work at a shop on the main street of my town. My main street is made up of three blocks, with his place of work being down the end of town we both live close to.

For the first year after the falling out, I wouldn't walk on that block of the main street. There's a second road that goes the same way, but it isn't as paved or well maintained as the main street. Whenever I was walking down the street, I would take that less well-maintained road to avoid potentially running into him. I did that for over a year, and I only stopped because I found out - tangentially, from seeing his new uniform after running into him - that he doesn't work there any more.

I did a similar thing with his home, talking a less convenient path to stay as far away from where he lived as possible. He lives *behind my mum* now, so I'm trying to stop washing my clothes at her house despite not having a washing machine in my flat because I can hear them across the fence.

I also left all of our mutual friends to get away from him. All of them. They're all his. I also close my eyes whenever I'm travelling by the place where the initial fallout happened so I don't have to look at it.

changing a normal routine to avoid triggering memories

Just discussed that in the previous entry. This one very much applies.

not wanting to talk about or think about the event

Outside of the councillor I've had since 2021, a friend I made and my mum, I haven't told anyone about what happened and why there was a fallout between me and my former best friend. A big reason why is because this isn't a "good guy vs bad guy" thing, and while I'm clearly very hurt and fucked up about it, I don't want to color people's perception of him.

If they like him and want to be his friend, they should be able to like him and be his friend. It's not like I'm The Good Guy and he's The Bad Guy, it was an ugly set of circumstances that I reacted very poorly to that forced a personal schism between us. I would talk about it with someone close enough to me because it's cathartic, but I have valid reasons to keep it to myself. All people need to know is that I can't be around him.

Now, thinking about the event - that's something I don't want to do. If I'm talking about it, I'm breaking it down and thinking about the mechanics of it and rationalising it. It's a process I can work through. Thinking about it, on its own, just hurts to do.

I think that's why I have those mental conversations, because I need to always be working through it and breaking it down. That's a fresh hell in itself, because I've been repeating the same points to myself for almost two years. I think of it, I have the mental conversation, however long it takes is a write-off. That's one reason I don't want to think of it.

feeling numb

I've felt numb about a lot of things for years before this was an issue, because I was severely bullied all through school. This event caused some numbness, but most of it is from that prior bullying.

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These criteria regard negative thoughts and mood.

feeling a sense of hopelessness about the future

Not specific to the best friend stuff. This one stems from over twelve years of bullying, and is aggravating by living in a stressful home environment for most of my life and having such a strained relationship with my friends post-school. The best friend thing is whatever - the end of that friendship isn't going to kill me. The potential to find better friends is endless.

But I struggle to believe I'm ever going to fit in with a crowd that I jive with and which wants me, which has been a persistent feeling ever since primary (elementary) school. I felt that way before I met my former best friend, and I feel it now.

negative beliefs about yourself or the world

Again, moreso due to the bullying that occured before/during the time I made friends in high school. There is something wrong with me compared to other people, and there always has been - there's a tangible difference that puts me at a disadvantage. I have a very negative opinion on anti-bullying tactics and legislature like zero-tolerance policies, because it could be weaponised by bullies in ways that got their victims in trouble. On a good day I'm an optimistic atheist, on a bad day I'm a pessimistic agnostic.

blaming yourself or others unreasonably

I treat the former best friend stuff as a "both sides" issue. I feel bad because I was very emotionally ugly, and this led to me lashing out and being a very angry and spiteful person towards him. In the long run, this was to protect my own feelings and be able to live with myself in the long run, and I have to live with that.

And while I'm indescribably angry at him to this day, the actual decision between him and his girlfriend is both a positive development for both of them and a perfectly reasonable decision between two consenting adults. So like I said, both sides have a point.

I hold a lot of animosity towards my former best friend, and I will never let him get close to me again. I'm also angry at myself for my role in it all. I can recognise the good in it all, but it doesn't make the anger and hate any more palatable.

intense worry, depression, anger or guilt

I've covered anger and guilt in previous entries. Adding onto that: when this was still fresh, my emotional state was changing every day. I felt the full gamut of human emotion in the span of a week. A few months in, I had my first and only anxiety attack because I felt like I was running out of time to mend the bridges I thought I needed to mend.

I was immensely depressed - I didn't know what to do. I lost all my friends for the duration I was gone, and when I left for good, I lost all those friends forever. I felt guilty for the effect my acrimonious exit must have had on people in that group. Even today, it makes me feel angry and guilty, and I worry about the possibility of people trying to force their way into my life. Worry, depression, anger and guilt is most of my life.

not being able to remember the traumatic event

I can remember the traumatic event just fine. I remember the moment I put it all together, I remember lashing out at my friend. I remember the spiral I went into after I stormed out, and I remember the Saturday where I saw him for the first time since and he told me what had been going on.

What I don't remember is most of our friendship before that point.

I remember some good parts, and I remember a lot of the bad. I've blocked everything else out of my memory.

no longer enjoying favourite activities

This is another all-encompassing one with roots in being bullied. I find it hard to play online co-op games with other people, though I play a lot of games we used to play by myself. I've avoided a lot of movies, TV and music due to general shittiness stemming from being bullied, I have to find something that really engages me before I commit to any media.

becoming emotionally detached from others

This is the big one - again, not exclusive to the friend stuff.

I've never been good at making friends, and I stopped actively trying back in primary school. I made friends at the end of high school because I made an effort to befriend people I wanted to be around, but that's how I ended up with my former best friend.

I've never been good at talking to people unless they're more of a conversation starter. Nowadays, I don't even try. Partially because I feel poorly about myself, but thanks to the former best friend stuff, I'm also afraid of being hurt and getting excluded from places when things go poorly.

not being able to experience positive emotions

Again, not exclusive to the former best friend stuff. It's hard to find joy in anything, because I learned to feel judged and criticized at an early age. I stopped getting my hopes up that things would get better. After the friend group fallout, there were weeks where I felt like I would never be happy again unless I found a way to go back to that friend group, and things were endlessly bleak.

Even now, with the job I have, I've resigned myself to a long, arduous existence of working with outdated machinery instead of holding out hope for better equipment coming down the line. It's better to expect the bare minimum and - more often than not - getting it, than to wish for the moon and getting nothing in return.

---

These criteria regard increased arousal.

constant, excessive alertness

I mentioned this before - I'm always on the lookout for a flash of green or a person who looks like my former best friend so I can go the other way and avoid it. I'm always "on". I'm always thinking about places to hide or how to escape.

scanning the environment for signs of danger

See previous entry. Short answer, yes.

being easily startled

More of a general symptom. I've always been easily startled. My former best friend would startle me and play on my insecurities and fears to get a reaction out of me, because he thought it was funny.

irritable or aggressive behaviour

When I was bullied, I came out the other side trying to be as polite and inoffensive to the senses as I could be. I had intense anger and sadness for a long time, and I did lash out for a brief period in early high school, but I grew into a more kind, measured person.

When the former best friend stuff happened, the way I would phrase it is that I "became a person I didn't want to be". I'm outwardly angry now. I'm always ready to be rude and shout at my former best friend if it comes to that, and I will do so with impunity if I'm ever cornered. I still try to be measured and calm, but I stew and mutter and have a hard time regulating my emotions now.

difficulty sleeping

poor concentration

Both of these are moreso bullying-related issues that have stayed with me for most of my life than anything to do with my former best friend.

[be-missed]

Cool About It

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna and Y/N are life-long best friends, but can Y/N still stand and hide her feelings after Jenna pulled a prank on her?

Warning/s: curse words, notify me if there are any.

A/N: Hi, hope this can be a good substitute for Chap 4 of Not Strong Enough. Enjoy! (clearing things out, this is not the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough, this is just a substitute story for you all, so that you have something to read while waiting for the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough.)

Masterlist

Nothing To Lose (Part 2) | Bad for Business (Part 3)

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"Come on it'll be fun, we can walk around the park and then ride the boat." Jenna explained while lying down in Y/N's bed and scrolling through her phone.

Y/N looked at her with a questioning look and said "Isn't that a bad idea? Because people might hover over us and people will just follow us and that is something that my anxiety can't handle."

"Noooo, pleaseee. This is a good idea, it's a Thursday afternoon, nobody or only least people will be at the park." Jenna answered, pouting.

"Jenna, stop." Y/N said with a smile on her face "You know it's hard for me when you do that."

Ans Jenna just smiled because she knows that Y/N is so close to going "Pleeaasseeee, pretty pleaseeee. I'll buy you an ice cream." Jenna proposed.

"Hmm, you think an ice cream can make me agree with your plan, huh?" Y/N answered.

"Yes, I know that you will agree to me sooner. Just imagine us binding after such a long time of not seeing each other. Also, may I remind you that I'll be leaving the country in December to film for Wednesday so this is a great time to spend with me before we get situated again in face time." Jenna is now showing Y/N a sad face.

Jenna's statement made Y/N wonder, that yes, it is true that Jenna's break will be over soon, meaning that she will be receiving a call or a message from Jenna during ungodly times which, she diligently answers, whether it may be a call or a message.

Y/N sighs and Jenna knows that y/N will now agree with her plan. But before Y/N agrees, Jenna started to jump in Y/N's bed and smiles at Y/N.

"You know me so fucking well Jenna Marie Ortega." Y/N said while scratching her brow "Yes, sure we'll go to the park."

And then Jenna went ot hug Y/N and delivers ton of kisses on Y/N's face.

Y/N thought, "Fucking hell, how can I disagree with this girl. If she tells me to jump on a tall something, I would even do some back flips. She wants me to run around New York City? I would do it with my tits out. She want me to marry her and be the mother of her children? I will for sure do that without a doubt. The last part, is a false hope. I know Jenna isn't into me since the first time that I met her."

"Okay, collect your things and get dressed, we're going to Central Park." Y/N said and taps Jenna's crown and smiled at her like a cute puppy.

Even if Jenna and Y/N are together, they will literally wear the headphones that they bought for each other, just to drown out their environment. But even the noise cancelling headphone can't stop them to communicate with each other. After knowing each other so well for years, they don't need to communicate verbally.

While walking, Y/N then got lost again with her own thoughts. She feels that Jenna knows that she likes her more than a best friend should have for quite some time now. That is why in the past few months, Y/N has been getting a lot more "busier" when it comes to Jenna. She tries so hard to detach herself from the girl. If Jenna won't be kind enough to be cruel about it and just reject her, then Y/N will try to be cool about it even though it's probably not even true.

Arriving at Central Park, the two girls started to walk nonchalantly, going where their feet take them, not caring about the people that took notice of them.

They sometime give snacks to the pigeons or the ducks that they passed by, try to pet the dog that was sitting beside their owner. Taking a look at thier surroundings, both of them realised that a lot from the park changed, the becnhes that were once there, the trees thatvwere cut out and displaced by another plant, and the rusts on the bench that they always pass by.

Y/N was walking not until Jenna stopped by the row boat rentals and Y/N just moved her head from side to side "Nuh uh, Jenna. We won't and we can't." Y/N said.

"But why? We used to ride the boats and just row around, pretending to be a part of a rowing team." Jenna stated pulling at Y/N's sleeve.

"Jen, that was before." Y/N reasoned.

Jenna looked sad "Do you not want to be seen with me? Is that it?"

That was the last thing that Y/N wants Jenna to think of because it is not true.

"No, absolutely not. I just think that..." Y/N said not knowing any reason on why not to ride the boat.

"See you have no reasons to not ride it. So please let's ride the boat." Jenna said, and with that they got a boat, just the two of them and started to row.

Many people are also in their own boat, talking, playing, laughing and admired their surroundings. Also, Y/N and Jenna's boat didn't get unnoticed by the people in the park or inside the boat. People were waving at them and calling Jenna's name. Jenna waved back or replied to them but her focus was still focused on you, not until you hear Jenna coughed.

Many boats surrounds you as this is where one of the good spots for a picture. It means that many people also surrounds you and can literally hear each other.

"Mhmm, Y/N, I don’t know where to start..." Jenna said with a smirk ok her face and Y/N didn't know what's going on, Jenna then continued "We have known each other for a lot of years, we have been with each other through our ups and downs and we are still here." Jenna then secretly took the ring from her pointer finger and present it in front of you.

Now. Now Y/N is so baffled with what is Jenna doing, people started to look at them and paid attention to what is happening inside their boat. Even the people who are in land started to stop and watch the scene unfolding in front of them.

"I have loved you ever since I met you and I want to love you 'till the day I die. I just want to ask if, will you marry me?" Jenna got up from her seat and started to kneel with her right knee.

Y/N's thoughts are all over. Why is Jenna fucking doing this? Is this her way to fucking play with her feelings? Is this all a joke to Jenna? She wants Jenna to be cruel about it and just reject her but not this way, Y/N will try her best to be cool about it even if it's not, but this stunt? Y/N didn't know if she can still see Jenna and not say some hurtful things towards the girl.

Everyone around them started to cheer and fished their phone out to capture this moment, because hell, Jenna Ortega is proposing. Flashing of lights where delivered from each phone that is hanging out, hollers and congratulations can be heard in different directions, claps can be heard everywhere and that triggered Y/N.

It was so loud around her, and why the fuck is Jenna proposing to her.

"Jenna I need to get out." Y/N said.

"What do you mean?" Jenna started to see the panic in Y/N's eyes.

"Fuck Jenna I need to get out of here" Y/N stated and started to row the boat in a faster pace that forced Jenna to take a seat.

As the boat started to get near the dock, Y/N didn't gave Jenna a time to talk and bolted away. Away from the girl, away from the people, and away from the world.

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Many hours has passed but Jenna can't still contact Y/N. Jenna even waited in front of Y/N's front door for hours but there were no signs of her best friend.

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A/N: Hoped this is good enough. Thoughts and comments are open, thanks for reading!

Nothing To Lose (part 2)

[meguwumibear]

angsty toge writing warm up

"I'm the only one left you know," Toge tells you, slumping down next to your exhausted form. "From my clan, I mean. The higher ups think the technique is dangerous and have outlawed it. Those who inherit it anyway, well..."

This is the most he's spoken in years. The words don't feel right on his tongue. They take up too much space. He has to think real hard to force them out.

"That's awful," you say, rolling onto your side to get a better look at him.

The two of you were dispatched hours ago to deal with a second grade cursed spirit. The assignment wasn't supposed to take very long, but it seems jujutsu society is struggling to understand curse ranking these days. The curse may have appeared weak, but it's technique was anything but. Somehow, someway, it had nullified your own.

Toge noticed first after his command to explode went unheeded. His purple eyes widened in surprise as the curse continued its attack as if he had said nothing at all.

With no cursed technique to rely on, the exorcism took a few grueling hours. You took turns brawling with the monster while the other attempted to poor their limited cursed energy into a tool. You're both a bloody mess by the time the curse finally fades away.

The curses death did not return either of your techniques to you.

"How long do you think it'll take for our techniques to return?"

There's a nasty gash on Toge's forehead, right above his left eye. The curse was strong and had sharp, pointy claws. Toge wasn't able to dodge all of its attacks in time.

The sorcerer is flat on his back, staring up at the starless sky. The light pollution from the nearby city blocks out even the moon's light.

"Don't know," he shrugs. "Maybe never."

There's a sad little smile on his lips when he replies. He doesn't roll to meet you as if he's worried looking you in the eyes will allow you to see past them into the crevices of his brain.

"Would it be so bad if they never came back?"

"Dunno," you shrug. "I don't feel particularly attached to mine. I think I'd miss the school though. And Yuuta and Maki."

Slim fingers pick anxiously at overgrown blades of grass, "you could probably stay on if you wanted. Used cursed tools like Maki. I'm sure they'd even give you glasses if you needed them."

What goes unsaid is louder than what does.

"You wouldn't stay? Even knowing what you do?"

He doesn't respond right away. It's been some time since he's had to communicate more than a greeting or affirmation. His thoughts have spent so much time stuck in his own head, they aren't sure how to come out.

"It would be hard to leave."

It's getting late. The two of you were due back hours ago. The starless sky is vast but your time on Earth is short.

"Let's go," Toge says and instantly regrets. He hadn't felt his technique return but the way you jolt forward confirms it's back. It isn't one of his usual commands. He didn't even realize he'd put any cursed energy into the words.

How could he be so careless? He knows better.

"Mustard leaf," he manages, turning from you. "Cavier."

"Toge," you try, reaching out to grab him. "I'm not hurt. I know you didn't mean it. It's alright."

He doesn't let you touch him. He doesn't want your comfort or sympathy. There's no point. Your techniques have returned which means you can both go back to your training and exorcising.

Would it be so bad if they never came back?

For society maybe, but not for him.

[auroradragon]

Frontier - Alejandro Vargas x Reader (Smut)

When I say I needed. I mean NEEDED an Alejandro x Reader smut. I'm so down bad for this man. In my fantasy, I've already imagined us having a whole ass family. Since there were so few Alejandro x Reader ff, I took it into my own hands. I also apologize, I've never posted smut before so please bare with me. Also why the fuck is this man SOOOO underrated. I love him SO MUCH

Summary: When group 141 and Los Vaqueros were betrayed by the shadows that you were considered close with, you rebelled against them as soon as Alejandro was knocked out. It didn't matter that you and Alejandro had a ridiculous rivalry. You still went down with him. Even while you had an odd relationship with Graves, you still chose to go against him. You were taken into custody along with Alejandro and were triggered into a manic breakdown while in the cell the two of you shared. You and Alejandro became close ever since.

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, competition, violence, PTSD, Trauma, Mental breakdowns, cursing, Alejandro being hot asf, etc.

Gif created by icaxrus on Tumblr

You entered your room with no emotion but rage. Your duffle bag lay open on your bed, still with uniform and clothing in the bag. You had multiple items like pencils and mementos you'd collected from your travels. But you just stare at them with utter disgust, it was nothing against what you owned, but all that was racing through your mind was the prison you, Alejandro, and his group were sent to, while Soap and Ghost barely got away. Not to mention how a shadow shot Soap. Then there was the personal betrayal between you and Philip

You had always told the men in your group that one of these days the emotions they hide away will come out, and it's not a matter of if it'll happen, it's a matter of when.

And for you, it happened in the prison, in front of Alejandro, he had no fucking idea what was going on. You screamed in your cell after going through a reaction from PTSD, you were having intense flashbacks and were put into a manic breakdown

To be honest with yourself, you could hardly remember what set you off, it felt like someone took a clip from the moment and deleted it. The little you could remember was a soldier whispering in your ear that he wished he could have his way with you, but couldn't because to Graves, you were off limits.

You'd struggled with a traumatic event a few years ago that led you to the state you were in, which was what set off the reaction you had and how the visions of that day and event kept playing through your mind like a fucking nightmare.

You were tossed into the cell and fell on your side with uncontrollable sobs. Alejandro was irritated at first, telling you to get up. He was always a hardass towards you, really you believed he hated you. But after a while, he soon realized it wasn't a joke and you were having a serious mental issue.

You look back at it now and thought about how that was probably the first time the two of you had an actual connection, the first time he'd been nice to you.

How he looked at you when you were terrified,

How he convinced you to sit up,

and when you did, he held you for a few minutes until your hyperventilation and tears stopped

How you two looked at each other from opposite walls, sitting on the freezing stone floor, his arms crossed as he sighs.

How he asked if you wanted to talk about it.

How you wanted to tell him what you lived with and what you had gone through, but... Knew it just wasn't the right time, and it may never be.

When the two of you made it back to a safehouse after the prison escape, Alejandro sat you down with him. Your lips and eye bags were puffed from the breakdown. He walked over to you with two mugs of coffee in hand.

"I think I'd need a real drink after this" He implied his taste for alcohol. He took his seat across from you at the small table. You met his eyes as he grinned the slightest bit. You wondered how a man could have such a pretty smile. You smiled a bit at his joke in return before taking a sip of your black coffee.

He swirls his coffee in the mug before looking back at you with curiosity invading his eyes.

"You still don't want to talk about what happened, Frontier?" You don't look back at him, instead, you shake your head 'no'

"Hm, okay" He sighs.

"Did you want to talk about Graves?" That caught your attention. Your eyes darted to his brown ones.

"There's nothing to talk about," You said just above a whisper. You take a sip of your coffee while warming up your cold hands like he never said anything.

"Señorita, don't do this," His voice was husked with his Spanish accent with a dead serious face. He placed his mug down lightly and placed his arms along the table to make himself bigger.

"I know that you and Graves..." He took a moment to find the right words, but you already knew there were no right words in this situation. Your glare was now present from irritation

"... Have a complicated relationship" His face remains serious and his gaze digs into your soul.

"....I told you I'm not a shadow" Your head tilted and your brows raised, but Alejandro kept staring at you like you were a fucking idiot.

"I'm not talking about if you were a shadow or not, I'm talking about if you had a.... personal... relationship," He clicks his tongue.

"I'm a traitor to them! What more do you want from me?!" The chair being pushed back as you stood dent a blood-curdling noise around the room.

"Tell me what the fuck your relationship was with Graves!" He stood up right after you.

"I-I don't know why this matters" You start laughing, but your eyes are glossed from forming tears.

"Y/N" He finally calmly said. It was the first time you'd heard your first name come out of his mouth. He only ever called you by Frontier, although he was also the only person in the group who knew your first and last name.

The truth was though, you and Philip were just fuck buddies, but nights after you lie next to him and wish that you two were more. You never knew Philips's feelings towards you, but you wanted him to like you as much as you liked him. Deep down though you knew it was never meant to be, and that you were just extremely lonely. The man was a walking red flag, yet you found yourself daydreaming about him.

But when you started knowing it wasn't a possibility, you took notice of Alejandro, he was definitely not the nicest person to you, but something about his aura kept drawing you towards him. You didn't know if it was his looks, his humor, or the way you just knew how much of a good person he was. You picked up on things about him and aligned them with ideas about him as a person. You imagined him to be extremely romantic, so much so that the things he'd do would be such a cliché, but you found it cute, really. But your heart sank when you realized how much you gained a liking for Alejandro.

When you were set back to the reality of what Alejandro was assuming, you knew didn't need this right now. You'd just recovered from a panic attack, and now all you could think of was Grave's betrayal. You just wanted a break, or a moment to sit and align all your emotions in a row instead of them being thrown at you continuously with no chance to think straight. So before you or Alejandro said anything else, you walked away from the table and to your assigned dorm. Alejandro stood in the same spot but watched as you walked down the hall.

After your panic attack in the prison was when Alejandro was put into a position where he could confront his own feelings toward you. Since you two met on the U.S-Mexico border, he dreaded you being a part of their group, seeing as he already didn't like shadows and really just assumed you were one too because you were American.

Alejandro kept a rivalry between the two of you, but over time he started noticing little things you do. How you bite your lip when you're in deep thought, the way your eyes flutter to keep yourself awake on the plane or the heli, the way you listened to the others in the group so well, the ways your eyes trailed all over him, and how you were always the first to ask if someone was okay. He didn't know why he cared so much but he began to think about you, day and night.

He'd be concerned and wonder if you were okay if you two weren't together. He wanted his eyes on you all the time. But his mind would trail back to Valeria's betrayal. He was heartbroken when he found out it was her, an ex-army partner, who turned against everything he stood for, it destroyed everything he knew about her, and every bit of trust against anyone who could be something of a friend or partner to him. In a way, he knew exactly what it felt like, with what was happening between you and Graves.

But when you were wrapped in his arm, shaking, and bawling, especially from you, he never wanted to let go. He memorized your scent and the way you felt, the way you fit in his arms, but what stood out to him the most was that after how rude he was to you and how much he pushed you away, you still trusted him enough to hold you and that you didn't stop him from holding you

That was the moment he realized that he was in love.

The anger spread through your body. Your shoulders were tense, and your eyes prick with tears that dared to come out. Who does he think he is? Asking that about you and Graves? You don't know why, but you just start picking up items around your room, your clothing, then empty items to clear the way, as a form of coping to clean a bit. You noticed in a cleaner room; you were able to think much better. Your mind was distracted from your mental attack and how much you grieved about Graves.

You heard your door swing open and hit the wall while doing so, it was so loud, you thought it broke a hole into the wall. “Get the fuck out of here!” You yelled not knowing who it was, not that you cared anyways. You spun your head around to see a shadow looming over you from the hall light that seeped into the midnight-black room. Alejandro might as well have teleported from where he stood because he was up to your figure before you’d even moved your body to face him.  

“Alejandro get out-” 

“No no no” His voice was low and husk 

“You don’t get to walk away in the middle of a conversation señorita” His grin was filled with hate and not a single ounce of happiness. He grasps your chin into his slender yet large hand. You grew agitated, knowing how Alejandro gets sometimes when he’s angry, his smile is like the calm before a fucking hurricane. You whimpered as he grasped harder. This was the only time the phrase ‘I smile when I get angry’ should ever be taken seriously.

“Please” Your eyes grew heavy with the shorter breaths you took 

“PLEASE answer my fucking question” Alejandro was so close; you felt his hot breath hit your lips.  

“Did you fuck Graves? Did you sleep with the enemy?” He mumbles in your ear, slips touching ever so gently, yet his slender hands still grasping your chin. 

“Let go of me” You voice was stone cold, it even shocked Alejandro enough for him to let go and give you an inch of room. 

“I see how you look at Valeria-” You glare at him 

Alejandro lets out a strained laugh, dark eyes digging into your soul. He turns his back to you and shakes his hand through his raven hair. 

“I don’t know if you two have more than a friendship in your history, but there is something there” You spit.

“Valeria is nothing to me! hasn’t been for a long time” He spits back. Your eyes relax from his words for a split second before your brows furrow again. 

“Same with Graves! So, what makes you think you have any right to say that shit?!” Your slipped calm face was back to an aggressive one. 

“You can't sit here and tell me whatever I did was right or wrong. You can’t just assume shit and, and-”  

Alejandro grasped the back of your head, hands curling into your hair. His eyes open slightly as he pressed his lips against yours. His scruff beard rubbed against your chin and his hand reached up to your face again, this time gentler and more passionate. It felt like minutes but was realistically only a second long.  

You stood not knowing what to say before wiping his saliva off your mouth and glancing from the floor back to his face from anxiety. You could FEEL the heat on your face, and you knew he felt it too. You bit your lip hard and finally looked back up to him. 

“... What-What was that for”  

“...Are you mad at me.” He doesn’t really ask, but says it more like a statement.  

You look at the ground again  

“... No” You admitted before looking up at him with your chin down, with wide eyes 

“Don’t look at me like that” 

“Why?” You ask, but you knew exactly what you were doing but playing innocent. 

“Are you mad at me” You have no idea where the fuck your courage came from but you stepped close to him and placed your lips on his this time. Your hands trailed from his neck up to both sides of his jaw. His hands found a perch on your hips

“mierda” He silently groans as he walks backwards to the door with you still against his body. He throws the door closed and fumbles with the lock. It's so dark in your room but Alejandro didn’t intend for it to stay like that for long. He wanted to eat up everything about the way you looked, he wanted to fuck you in the light where he can memorize every part of your body. After a few moments of you kissing him against the door with pleading breaths leaving his mouth when your lips found his neck and sucked lightly. He pulled your ass in so you'd get closer to him, letting you whimper as you felt his erection coming from his cargos. When you looked up at him, his eyes were overflowing with lust. He stops what you’re doing before now pushing you towards your bed that lies in the corner of the room. He sits up over you and reaches for the bedside table to fumble with the lamp. 

“I um I don’t...” You stutter underneath him, suddenly getting insecure. The light flicked on and he took a moment to examine every detail of your face. 

“Please,” He grabs one of your hands and places a gentle kiss on it while looking down at you for your approval. Yup, you were right, this guy was one for cheesy romance, in no way were you complaining about it though. You turn your head to the side from embarrassment. 

“The light is fine” You mumble but just enough for him to hear. When you look back at him, you sit up to his level and plant a kiss on his lips, he places your head back onto the pillow while still kissing your now swollen lips.  

“Fuck look at what you do to me cariño” He grunts as he grabs your hand to place it on the bulge of his pants. You gasp at the feeling of it against your hand. You raise your other hand and fumble with the buttons. He grips your hands with his own to stop you.  

“What...” Your brows furrowed with confusion before his hands started unbuttoning your own pants. You saw how lightly his veined hands messed with your own cargos. 

“Alejandro~” You wined 

“Sé paciente,” He kissed your jaw to shut you up, while still attempting to get your pants unbuttoned. 

He successfully pulled them down enough to see your panties soaked through. He sat up to admire the view.  

“Take a picture while you're at it” You blushed in embarrassment, even through your bold facade.

“Oh, I will, cariño. But only after I've fucked you” Your cunt clenches around nothing as his words hit your core. He hears how desperate you are with each short and heavier breath that comes out of your mouth.  

He slides your panties down with your pants. Your thighs clench as soon as the cold air touches the most sensitive area. He places a hand in-between your thighs in retaliation and spreads them back apart.

"Keep them open" All you could think about is how attractive his accent is. You sit up and tug on his long sleeve black shirt

"Take it off, please~" You whimper, needing him to touch you.

"As you wish princesa" He grins as you begged under his touch. He throws his shirt across the room and rises over you. You're in utter awe of this man's build. Vaines were present in his arms, even if he wasn't flexing, he had a surprisingly thin waist and sleek abs. You swear this man was built by God's hands themselves.

He moves back down and takes a leg. He starts kissing it from your calves, his nails dig into your leg as he leaves hickies on every inch he’s kissed. You felt goosebumps trail all over your lower body as he came up to your knees, then outer thighs, then inner thighs. Your face was burning up, your throat closed in, and your eyes dared to close.

"Now," He says as he raises a kiss to your jaw.

"Are you okay with it going further?" He whispers in your ear and his lips teasing your skin.

"Fuck. Y-Yes" You felt yourself shaking already. He lets out an amused chuckle through his nose

"Alright then princesa" He moves back down to your lower half and continues where he left off. He kept sucking your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to your cunt. He takes a look at you for reassurance. You aggressively nod your head and with that, he starts kissing your slick folds, without warning he starts sucking on your clit, and hard. Your head drops back onto the pillow as you let out a moan.

"Aleja- Fuck" You feel him grin as he continues to lick and suck your clit. You moan into your arm remembering how thin the walls are in the room, not wanting anyone in the other room to hear. He takes his finger and puts it into your now dripping pussy that ached for attention. With one finger he lightly plunged it in and further. You already felt like you were about to cum but he took the moment to put in another finger and curl his fingers along the walls of your cunt. His thumb replaced where his lips were on your cunt. He started licking the area of your cunt that weren't already taken care of by his fingers.

"Don't be shy, cum in my mouth "

Your hand went from the sheets to his polished back hair. He groaned as you pulled, feeling the vibrations from his deep groan, sent you over the edge. Your legs shook around him and you were starting to lose the ability to hold in your moans. The man didn't stop until you finished cumming. You lie there breathless, and beads of sweat rolling down your forehead already. He moved up to meet your eyes again.

You place a hand on his face, and he moved down to kiss you. You felt so dirty, tasting yourself on his tongue, but you fucking loved it. You moaned into his mouth before cussing.

"Jesus- I've never finished so fucking quick-" You say stunned.

"Don't tell me you're getting tired now" He teases as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Me? Never" You looked back up at him with determination in your eyes. You felt his clothed cock press against your swollen clit. You whimper as you feel every inch of the fabric press against you.

"Good, 'cause we're just getting started" He simply says before sitting up to unzip his pants. You sit up as you watch how shiny his tan skin is from the sweat. His thick brows furrow as he gets frustrated with the pants. You just sat there for a moment, taking advantage of seeing the most beautiful man on earth in front of you. He gets the zipper undone and you watch as he pulls his cock out.

"O-Oh- Uhm" You out a hand over your mouth as you keep staring.

"You don't want to go any further? I can stop" He says with zero hesitation

"F-Fuck no, it's just... Big..." Your eyes meet his lustful ones.

"I can't wait anymore cariño" He sighs as he nuzzles into your neck one more time before shifting himself between your thighs. He grips your thighs, nails digging into your skin, but you find it exciting. He places his hands next your head. Your hands snake up his chest. He feels shudders run up from his core. Your hand is placed on his cheek as you give him a look of adoration.

"Are your ready for this, princesa?" He asks.

"Y-Yes" You stutter. It's strange to you because you've never been this shy when it came to Graves, he doesn't make you feel the way Alejandro makes you feel.

Alejandro slides his hand up from your pelvic bone and up to your chest. You feel his slick cock, already dripping with pre-cum barely touching your lips and your body is already trembling with shaky breath following after. He slowly puts it in with a grunt.

"Mierda~ Ah, you're so tight" His hands grip the sheets under you, and your hands involuntarily grip his biceps which gives a grin out of him. When he's completely inside, he lets you catch your breath. Without hesitation he takes it halfway out and thrusts himself back in, hitting your walls hard. You moan from the sudden action and grip his biceps so hard you swear your nails were drawing blood. He grunts with every continuing thrust.

You become a moaning mess with every thrust he gave, and your hips bucking up had become an unconscious reflex. You feel your hips and thighs cramp from the flexing, so Alejandro pushes you down to prevent you from moving your hips.

"Ale~" You whine.

"Does Graves ever make you feel this good?"

"H-Huh?" He enjoys seeing you so fucked up that you can't even comprehend what he's saying

"Baby," He grabs you chin to make you look at him while he still fucks you dry.

"Has he ever made you feel this good?" He becomes so much more dominant as soon as he brings Graves up again.

You shake your head no

"Say it then," He says with trembling breath. Your core tightens knowing how fucking jealous he gets.

"No baby, no he's never made me feel this good~" You smile as your core tightens knowing you're going to cum with him. He feels how close you are, and he's not far behind either.

"I'm all yours Alejandro, please be mine~" You beg under him. His eyes widen as you pull your arms around him into an embrace. He picks you up into his lap. He stares up at you as he rubs your thighs.

You lift yourself up, but its hard at first because of how bad your legs shake over him. You settle your hands on his bulky shoulders and put yourself into a fluid movement on top of him. He digs his face into the crook of your neck and kisses down to your breast.

"You're all fucking mine, and I'm all yours," He says as he smiles whilst looking up at you. His hands slide all over your body. His groans start turning into moans and it ignites a fire in you, that you didn't even know existed. With half lids showing, you admire how he looks underneath you.

"I'm ganna-" You start

"I know. Me too." He finishes your sentence

You finally let out the coil you've been building up for minutes. The orgasm your felt left aftershocks. Your legs kept shaking and trembling. Your sweaty head falls on Alejandro's own forehead. He finished inside of you, still thrusting out both of your orgasms. His hand finds the crape of your neck under your wet hair. He looks at you through his long lashes, and he swore to God, hes never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

"estoy tan enamorado de ti" He whispers

"Huh?" You ask with your brain still recovering from the stimulation

"Nothing," He says before he lies back down on the bed with you still on top of him. You left yourself up and drop next to him. You turn to your side and curl into him, resting a head on his chest. He plants a kiss on your forehead before trying to get up.

You sit up confused as you watch him walk around the room naked. He puts his underwear and cargos back on. You look away, thinking you just made a mistake.

"Frontier!" He yells and you look back at him with a chunk of your clothes in his large hands, he throws them at you and you catch them with a confused look in your eyes.

"Come on" He says as he finishes putting the rest of his clothes back on. He stands along the wall as you get dressed, staring at you.

"Stop being a perv" You finish and smack him on the ribs.

He grabs a hold of your waist and pulls you into him for a kiss

"amor de mi vida"

You look up at him this time understanding what he said. You had a glowing smile on your face.

"Mi amor" You kissed him again.

....

A.N -

This is the first smut I've ever posted, so I'm sorry if it literally sucks. Also if you can't tell I didn't take a Spanish class, unfortunately, I didn't take German either, I took mother fucking Japanese, and I kind of regret not learning Spanish but you know, it's whatever. Anyways I'm so sorry if I messed up the Spanish bits, I didn't use the most reliable source, cause I used Google Translate. But if you made it to the end, thank you smmmm and I love you!

[ghost-likes-drawing]

Just wish I knew what caused it

(Fitpac Exs to Lovers)

Ch.2 (to be named later)

Translations done with assistance from: @caracolast (Portuguese and Beta reader) @keezers and @iridescentpull (Spanish)

Previous chapter Next Chapter

This one is much shorter

Okay maybe things would not just be okay. But things were still pretty okay...

The first night got even more akward because Cellbit insisted that since the Guest house wasn't even ready like it was meant to be that Fit and Ramon should have meals with the family. Fit wanted to refuse but he also wasn't sure what else they were going to do for food and so he accepted the invitation.

Pepito was the one who collected them for dinner. He was quiet but looked at Fit and Ramon with a wide eyed excitement.

“Do you want to sit next to me? Apa usually does but he can't tonight” Pepito smiled up at Ramon.

Ramon who had always had a soft spot for young kids nodded “Of course.”

Fit hummed and ruffled Ramon's hair “looks like you're already making friends”

When they got down to the table Pepito pulled Ramon to where Pepito’s chair was set up so he could reach the table better.

On Pepito’s other side was Cellbit. On Cellbit's Other side was Richarlyson. On Richarlyson's other side was Pac. Finally between Pac and Ramon was the only chair left… great.

Fit sat down and avoided looking at Pac and hoped he did the same.

A lot of dinner was quiet. Cellbit seemed comfortable and the kids were just enjoying the food so Fit felt assured that was just how this family ate.

"Ah é, Pac, precisamos trazer mais cadeiras pra casa antes que Roier e Bobby voltem" Cellbit said almost as a reminder to himself

Pac hummed "Vou pegar emprestado da casa de hóspedes"

"Richas, você pode ajudar ele. Só pra terminar mais rápido."

Richarlyson groaned

¡Yo puedo ayudar! Si es para apa y bubba. ¿Por favor?" Pepito piped up looking at Celbit with big eyes.

“I dunno Pepitinho, the chairs can be kinda heavy” Cellbit said cautiously

“Oh let him. He’s tough enough. He's seven after all.”

“eight soon!” Pepito reminded excitedly

“oh yes eight soon” Pac nodded

Cellbit hummed "Tá bom, mas se ele se machucar-"

“Não vai. Não comigo tomando conta dele." Pac said Confidently “right Pepit?”

Pepito nodded confidently

Fit felt his heart ache a bit but pushed it down. He shouldn't care about Pac. Pac clearly moved on, he had two kids who liked him, and a husband. Fit should be moved on to. If he'd been asked about it just a few days ago he'd probably say he had moved on. It was 12 years ago and he had Ramon to look out for since then. He was over it.

But Richas was talking to Pac in Portuguese and he heard Pac laugh and Fit ached. He'd push through. He was over it.

Dinner finished and Fit insisted he do the dishes as a thank you for their hospitality and despite Cellbit’s insistence it wasn't necessary Fit won out and Ramon stayed back at the table to let Pepito keep talking.

Richarlyson ran off do do something Fit didn't pay enough attention to remember what.

Cellbit and Pac stepped outside to talk and when they came back in Pac went upstairs claiming his prosthesis was bothering him.

Cellbit walked next to Fit and spoke quietly “Thank you again for the dishes you didn't have to”

Fit shrugged “never was one to be waited on”

Cellbit nods “I uh Spoke with Pac and if Ramon’s interested he'd love to have help and teach him what he knows. He’ll be payed for his help too.”

Fit looked to Cellbit almost suprised “oh thank you-”

Cellbit interrupted “He did tell me though-” Fit’s heart fell into his stomach “-about your history. Pac says he can keep what's happened out of the now, be professional. It's been long enough. He says he's over it. I'm just here to make sure it'll be the same for you”

“of course!” Fit confirmed quickly “I would never want to psych him out or something and it was forever ago so I'm not trying to-”

Cellbit gave him a look of intrigue and Fit stoped talking.

“I'll be keeping it professional. I won't step out of line with Pac.”

“Good good” Cellbit hummed “just… if you do… I can help you get a matching set of arms” Cellbit’s face went deadly serious and as a veteran Fit knew that look meant it was the threat it sounded like. "... so be professional, queridinho"

“Understood.” Fit nodded “I will.”

Cellbit’s face lightened up “great. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast! 6 am.”

Fit nodded and gave a small salute with his hand before Cellbit turned and walked away going upstairs taking Pepito up with him for a shower.

Okay so Cellbit was a very protective husband. That's fine. Fit wouldn't give him any reason to go for the throat.

Ramon hoped on to the counter meant to seperate the kitchen from the dining room and threw his legs over the counter to dangle them in the kitchen “okay so I'm attached. Pepito is just the sweetest ever. And his Spanish is fantastic”

“Portuguese” Fit corrected “They’re Brazilian.. or Pac is anyway and Cellbit clearly is fluent in Portuguese as well, seems more confident in it then English. So I'm assuming he's Brazilian.”

Ramon paused “no Pepito was definitely speaking Spanish. Mexican Spanish at that.” Ramon stretched “I couldn't really understand Pac and Cellbit but Pepito I understood very well.”

Fit hummed. That is weird “I see. How do you know it's Mexican Spanish?”

“Spreen had taught me the differences.” Ramon had to bite his lip at the look Fit gave him to not laugh “Okay And my Spanish teacher in middle school. But Spreen did talk a lot about this Mexican guy he used to date and Pepito kinda has a similar speach pattern to the impression Spreen did.”

Fit shrugged and dropped it. If it meant not talking about Spreen he'd save this mystery for later... or never

“Alright I'm done. Get off their counter” Fit said drying off his hands “we have an early morning so let's try and get ready as quick as we can so we can rest.”

Ramon nods agreeing and hops off the counter. Ramon walks up the stairs followed by Fit after checking the house was in order. They got ready, showering, brushing teeth and such the like. When they were shuffling into bed Fit finally piped back up

“Pac says he'd take the help. Cellbit will pay for your time too.” Fit recounted while getting his arm off and putting it away safely

“Really?” Ramon sat up smiling. Although the look quickly turned calculating as he hummed

Fit nodded and saw the look “ayyyy no. No you're not going to try and get Pac to tell you what happened” Fit grabbed his son by the middle with his right arm before wrestling him down as Ramon giggled trying to escape “Cellbit already warned about what’ll happen if I get on Pac’s nerves or if I make a move. Those rules are applying to you too” Fit poked Ramon's shoulder with his nub

Ramon giggled and groaned dramatically “fine fine. I won't let me go.” Ramon started to squirm to get out of Fit’s grasp.

Fit shrugged and let go “I think I made myself clear. It's NYFB-”

“Don't shout there's still a seven year old down the hall.” Ramon reminded

“I wasn't going to do that.” Fit Sneered playfully before getting himself comfy “I'm taking out my hearing aids alright?”

“Alright Fit. Rest well.” Ramon yawned getting himself comfortable

“Goodnight Ramon.” Fit hummed taking out his hearing aids and plugging them in to charge.

Fit turned off the lights and closed his eyes glad to find that sleep came quick. He want sure he was in a place to process any of his emotions right now.

A note: My Spanish translators may not be from Mexico. So if it's wrong... oops

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

Got some interesting new additions for my collection to show off today! Eventually, I need to show everything off again... as soon as I get things organized again. I still have items I bought from early last year that I still haven't found a spot for yet. I've been slacking! lol

First off, this lapel pin... being graciously held up by Wolf O'Donnell. There's probably a "can't let you do that" joke in here somewhere, but I can't think of any right off hand. 😅

This was actually sent to me by a friend, who recently paid a visit to Nickelodeon Universe (an indoor theme park). While she was there, she seen this and got it for me, hoping it was something I didn't have. Fortunately, it wasn't! A fine item for my collection, indeed! She'll likely see this post later, so if you're reading this, thank you again!

Actually, I believe she also went a year or two ago and managed to find the Meet & Greet Marshall wandering around. She even got a picture & video with him, too. I was quite envious! 😄

Next, this "magic towel" thing. It's also being held up by another wolf - this time, it's Wolf Link, from "The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess". Can you tell I'm a bit of a Nintendo gamer? lol

Anyhoo, I was just doing some shopping with my mother in a dollar store when I happened to stumble upon this. It was only $1.25, so... why not get it? The artwork isn't the best, but hey, I still like it.

Next, one of those "Good 2 Grow" snack containers! Actually, funny story about this one. I was at a gas station, not expecting to see anything pertaining to PAW Patrol, when I seen one of these that someone left at the front near the cashier. However...

It was actually one of Zuma, which surprised me, since they usually pass him up to focus on the main four. I meant to post about it on Twitter/X, but like usual, I forgot. In any case, I decided to track one down, and I soon found one of Marshall at Walmart. It was the last one, too! Unless I'm mistaken, they also had one of Liberty, so I guess they went beyond just the six original pups this time. Nice!

As you might recall, we've actually seen products like this before, about a year or two ago. Back then, it was just the pups in their regular outfits. This time, they went with a superhero theme, no doubt due to The Mighty Movie. I'm not sure why they went with Super Paws and not the Mighty Movie outfits, but maybe these were easier to mold. Who knows, but hey, I quite like it when older outfits get brought back, instead of them getting forgotten in the sands of time.

I just wish we could see THIS outfit again someday. It had a brief reappearance in that "Mighty Pups Save Adventure Bay" video game, but that's it so far. Sadly, at this point, I doubt we'll ever see it again.

Er... guess I got a little distracted here, sorry!

Last, and absolutely not least, is this brand new item! Something I knew about for many months and couldn't wait to get a hold of one for myself! It's "Storytime with Marshall" by Leap Frog!

(In hindsight, taking these pictures in front of my monitor may not have been the best idea. Hopefully they're not too hard to see. 😅)

This thing is legitimately super awesome! They really got his likeness down so well here! I mean, seriously, just look at it! It's so cute! It's easily one of the best pieces of merch I've got in my collection now!

According to the box, it can do quite a lot. It includes 40+ stories, which I assume are based on various episodes (I haven't listened to them yet, but I also assume they focus on different pups, going by the buttons on the front... yeah, it's a shame there's no Rocky or Zuma again, I know). It has a sleep timer, to help lull the little ones to sleep at night before shutting off and all that. Additionally, it teaches "core learning skills" or something, whatever that means. That's cool and all, but of course, for me, I just wanted it because I absolutely love how it looks. It'll look great on one of my shelves! lol

I'll admit, I'm glad this came out before the new animation style got applied. While I like Marshall's updated season 11 look so far (I might make a separate post about that later), his original design is still my #1 favorite. A part of me hopes to keep collecting more merchandise of THIS Marshall, but I know that, by next year, they'll probably retire this design and start using the new one, permanently. Guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts. 😅

And that's all for now! I currently have another item coming in the mail; Marshall's new Rescue Wheels big wheel vehicle + figurine. It's been delayed, but it's supposed to show up at some point next week. Hopefully, the remaining Rescue Wheels merchandise will show up in stores soon enough, and I'll be able to show them all off soon. I might also have to buy a Boomer figurine, too. lol

[dailyshowchica]

Loki Cosplay Part 8

Previously on Loki Cosplay: https://www.tumblr.com/dailyshowchica/761376032329777152/loki-cosplay-part-7?source=share

So with Halloween rapidly approaching, I have been working on the detail work for Loki's trousers, tunic, and coat. I am not done yet, but I am making progress.

First, the trousers. These were the easiest to do, since all I had to do was cut out a bunch of small rectangles out of metallic silver craft foam.

One of these I used E6000, and the other, I used a hot glue gun. The E6000 discolored some of the squares. Since E6000 doesn't dry right away, I covered my work with a plastic bag and weighted it down with a few large books overnight. In pulling away the plastic, I lost some silver.

I also used a lot more adhesive than I thought I would, so for the other leg, I used hot glue. That dries almost instantly, but I'm not sure it's as secure. It'll be fine for pictures, but if I were to wear this to a con, I might want to use E6000 just be to sure it stays together. It worked perfectly for my sister's dance costumes, after all.

Next up, the tunic. That is two pieces that I'll snap on, a chest piece, and a stomach/skirt piece.

I had to think for awhile about how to make the chest piece. In the end, I went with craft foam, and the gold lining fabric I had gotten for the skirt jacket. I cut out the fabric and glued it to a heavy paper template. But as you can see, the E6000 bled through. So, I made another necklet out of fabric. This was double-layered and treated like a ribbon, or waist tie, with finished edges. This fabric frays like crazy, so the edges had to be sewn. Then I sewed the all-fabric necklet in place. I lost more than I expected to in seam allowance, so it's not a perfect match. But it covers the glue stains, and looks pretty good. And Pretty Good is Good Enough. Time to move on.

This is where the scrap pieces of the black vinyl/faux leather came in handy. I looked at pictures of Loki and copied the shapes as best as I could. The vinyl doesn't fray, but I've tried to finish these edges anyway, if only for a bit more security. Plus, the skirt part of the tunic has matching trim to the coat. While the original may have metal trim, I'm just using gold ribbon in a decorative stitch at the edge.

The coat trim is the most work by volume, and work that has to be done by hand. From the Marvel Studios Visual Dictionary, I was able to see the metallic trim on the inside and outside of Loki's coat. And I luckily had SOME of that material handy- it was also thee scarf/tie Crowley used in his Heavenly disguise in Good Omens Season 2. But I don't have a lot of it. Also, this stuff can snag on other fabrics if you're not careful, so I decided it was only going on the outside. The inside trim was a gold-colored fabric remnant I found at Joann fabrics.

Using legal paper, I determined the positioning of the trim stripes. And as I was working, Ruthie cat came to supervise. She loves a good tent, and the coat, hanging on a tall chair with the skirt panels spread out, makes a pretty good tent.

I made the inner trim by cutting the strips maybe half an inch wider than needed, ironed nonwoven fusible interfacing to the back, and rolled back the edges. As I said above, this fabric frays like crazy, so I was very careful yo make sure there were no raw edges.

I have a bracelet of that same chainmail material in blue, so I used that and a scrap of the vinyl fabric to test sewing the mail in place. It works, but given how small the holes in the mail are, I have to move the needle straight up and down, which means there's going to be visible stitching on the inside. Not too big a problem, but it does mean the outer trim has to go on first. Then I can cover the stitching with the inner trim.

I also can't really pin the outer trim in place. Luckily for me, my mom worked for a magnet company for a few years, and I have lots of small, very strong magnets. Those work very well to hold the mail in place as I sew.

The gold embroidery thread was something I bought for my God of Stories costume, but it's too fine for what I had planned. So, to use it up, I'm using it to sew the inner trim in place- it's too thick/prone to snagging to be used on the outer trim.

I opted to sew in a zigzag pattern when attaching the trim. That way it's secure along the whole length and at the edges without me needing to go all the way around, as I will need to with the inner trim. But I can use invisible hem stitching on the inner hem, so it all evens out.

But then Ruthie decided I had worked long enough. But I've got the path mapped out, and sooner or later, I'll get it finished.

See ya next time!

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Seventh Year: Forgiveness Bonus Scene 1

So, I only have the one bonus scene so far for this chapter. There may be one or two more but for now this is it. And this was one I wrote a while in advance because of the vibes. Such vibes.

It'll be pretty evident what this is for. :)

The art is by @the-grey-hunt! Ne did a fabulous job of it. <3

**

Should Samael do this? Probably not, in the most technical sense of the term, but Samael could do it, and that made all the difference. But ne needed a little more information first, and Michael was not going to be the right person to ask.

The last thing Samael wanted to do was cause that terrible grief again. It reminded nem too much of Gabriel’s, though this grief also had a nice helping of guilt. It was a double dose of nastiness and Samael had other people ne could ask.

Only Michael’s friends seemed to be dealing with a hangover from hell. As far as Samael could currently tell, Michael was attempting to console the ones still left behind in the room. He would probably have a better chance of that if he took their hangovers away but Samael wasn’t going to judge him wanting them to learn from experience.

But there were three who weren’t in the room, even if they were all also nursing nasty hangovers. They were in the kitchens, apparently trying to coax some post-hangover meals out of the staff. The food was going okay; the drinks – namely pumpkin juice and butterbeer – not so well, as the staff gave them blank looks on hearing about butterbeer.

“You know, I’m not sure butterbeer is the best cure for a hangover, but sure. We can give it a whirl.”

There was a startled flail from Justin, Ernie, and Neville. Neville knocked over a bucket of eels on the counter that Samael saved from spilling over the floor. Åse would make nir next so many meals miserable if Samael let that happen to their beloved kitchen floor.

“Michael isn’t here,” Ernie said, squinting at Samael. “He’s currently trying to coax the others out of bed.”

It was a mental image Samael had never known ne wanted. Ne refrained from peeking in, since Michael definitely would notice that.

“I know that,” Samael said cheerfully, not making any effort to lower nir voice. “I’m here for you!”

“Why?” Neville asked suspiciously. He steadied himself with a hand on the counter, making sure there wasn’t anything else there he could knock down.

“If this is about last night, I have nothing to tell you,” Ernie said firmly.

Samael paused, giving him a curious look. “Why? What happened last night?”

“Even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you. Malfoy’s smug face this morning is already going to give me nightmares.”

“I’m regretting not taking Michael up on his offer to sober me up,” Justin moaned, rubbing over his forehead. “Now he won’t even bother, since it’s a ‘learning experience.’”

“That sounds like him. Let me know how the learning experience goes.”

“Why are you here again?” Neville asked. “Just to poke fun at us?”

“No. I mean, I could, but that’s not what I’m here for. Why don’t we get some actual food for you and then we can talk?”

They all exchanged doubtful glances.

“Susan’s going to kill us if we don’t return with food,” Ernie said dubiously. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Another thirty minutes won’t kill them,” Samael said dismissively, glancing at Åse and raising nir eyebrows. “Michael’s there.”

With Samael supervising and helping, breakfast was soon ready and plated. Samael also went ahead and made some butterbeer, recalling the ingredients from those DIY recipes when the series had been so popular. It likely wouldn’t be the same given Asgard didn’t have exact matches for the ingredients but it would be close enough.

“I thought you said no butterbeer,” Justin said, though he took the mug when it was offered.

Samael shrugged, sliding down two others for the other two and taking the last for nemself. “I felt sorry for you.”

“…I don’t know if I should say thank you.”

“Don’t,” Neville muttered into his eggs.

Samael muffled a laugh into nir butterbeer. “Take your time.”

It wasn’t until they finished their breakfast and had copious amounts of water that they seemed even remotely ready for the conversation. By this time Samael was on nir second mug of butterbeer.

“You didn’t just come here because you felt sorry for our hangovers,” Neville noted. “Why are you here?”

Samael brushed a finger through the foam of nir butterbeer. “I could have, but you’re right.” Ne licked the foam off nir finger. “I don’t want to ask Michael about this because it would upset him, so I’m asking you. About his parents.”

They’d been wary before, but now they all looked at nem suspiciously. It was marred by how they were still slightly squinty-eyed.

“Why do you want to know?” Justin asked. He still had his head propped up in a hand.

“I can bring them back,” Samael said plainly, “but I won’t if it would hurt him more.”

“Michael couldn’t bring them back,” Ernie said. Unlike Justin and Neville, he was doing his best to appear professional despite how he kept squinting into the light. “He said he couldn’t find them. Why would you be any different?”

So Michael had tried? That was surprising. But perhaps Samael should stop being surprised by him since Michael was so different from the one ne knew before.

“I’m Death,” Samael said simply. “I have a better idea of where they would have gone than he does.”

“How are you Death?” Neville was incredulous. He was also picturing the previous Death, having somehow met him before. “You don’t look at all like him.”

“Wait, when did you meet Death?” Justin demanded, turning towards Neville.

Neville looked a little shifty. “Around.”

“Around? Around? Around when?”

Neville looked down at his drink. “When You-Know-Who died,” he said. “He took care of it.”

Samael very carefully took a drink of butterbeer, watching the three of them.

“You mean the night all of you refuse to tell us about?” Ernie’s voice was dry.

“Yes,” Neville said blandly. “That night.”

Samael wasn’t looking, but it was very difficult to avoid hearing the sound of chewing, as well as the image of a heart being eaten by a mangled mouth. Ah, that was Michael’s work.

“I’m Death,” Samael said, rescuing Neville from having to think any further on that night. Nausea was imminent. “My predecessor passed it on to me. So…deaths fall under my purview – all deaths. So I have the ability to bring them back, but I’d like to know what I’m getting into before I try. Because Michael blames himself for what happened, but I don’t really think it was his fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Justin said immediately.

“What happened?”

They shared uncertain looks.

“If he doesn’t want you to know, I don’t think it’s up to us to share,” Ernie said slowly.

“I didn’t ask him,” Samael admitted. Ne almost had but for that awful, terrible grief. “It would have hurt him more to remember. He was only just able to share what sort of parents they’d been.”

“Is it just morbid curiosity?” Neville asked. “Why do you need to know to be able to bring them back?”

Samael considered nir answer, taking a long drink. Ne wiped a thumb over nir lips, wiping the foam off. “Depending on what happened, they may not want to come back. I won’t force them, but it would help to know the details so I know what I’m looking at.”

The three shared looks again.

“We don’t know the specifics either,” Ernie said eventually, subdued. “Michael never shared, but from what we gathered, it was…bad. You-Know-Who sent Death Eaters after them. His dad…his dad was a Muggle. But his mom… She wasn’t.”

“He blames himself because You-Know-Who knew who he was. He was still alive after what Michael did,” Justin said. “It’s bloody stupid, but he blames himself for it.”

“I can see that.” Samael huffed out a breath, shaking nir head. It was Michael putting the weight of the world on his shoulders, even if it wasn’t solely his burden to bear. Death Eaters… “Which Death Eater?”

“If you’re asking because you want to go after him, he was sentenced to Azkaban,” Justin said. “He was…pretty badly off. I’m not sure what happened there…”

Neville didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and this time Samael was treated to a full HD, surround-sound image of a blank, emotionless Michael holding a crackling, writhing soul that was screaming.

“I think Michael already did the job there,” Samael said lightly, deliberately not looking at Neville. “Who was it?”

“Carrow,” Justin answered when no one else responded. “Amycus Carrow.”

Samael distinctly remembered asking Michael if Amycus Carrow had been his father. Oh dear.

It put Michael’s utterly aghast expression in a new light.

“Ah. I see.” Samael was briefly disappointed the Dark was dead-dead. How did they just pick the worst vessels to inhabit? “I assume Michael didn’t know what happened until after.”

“We don’t know why,” Justin said. “They knew who he was.”

Samael couldn’t say why either. Maybe for his father, a Muggle, he might not have had time. But his mother…? She probably did have time, given she had magic. Why wouldn’t they have called for help?

“Maybe he can find out,” Samael said.

“You’re getting them back?” Neville asked.

“If they want to.” Samael couldn’t say if they would want to come back. Not everyone who died did. “Don’t tell Michael, as I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

“Why are you even doing this?” Neville stared nem down. “Do you think that by doing this it’ll fix what you did?”

Samael managed a smile. “No. It doesn’t fix anything. But it’s the least of what I can do. Because I can do this – give him something back that he lost. I’m not doing this for anything else beyond the fact that he’s my sibling.”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

Samael’s smile twitched. Ne swallowed, dropping nir gaze. “No. It didn’t.” Ne had been…far too furious at Michael. Blaming him for things out of his control. “I don’t have an excuse for what I did, but that’s a conversation for Michael. And he and I have spoken about this.”

It probably wouldn’t be the last time. Samael still wasn’t sure what to do about the revelation that Michael had just…let nem…do all that. Pain was something even angels shied away from, yet Michael had just…let it happen.

Ne didn’t know if Gabriel knew. It wasn’t something ne felt comfortable telling him at this point, not when ne scarcely knew what to do with it.

“So you’re doing this for him,” Ernie said. “For Michael.”

Samael managed another smile now, and this one came easier. “I think more people should do things just for him, don’t you think? He’s done enough for the rest of us.”

There was no immediate response here, just them studying nem and also glancing at each other. Still, Samael had the impression of having said something they approved of.

“He deserves that,” Justin said. “If that’s what you’re doing…then yes. We’ll keep it quiet for you and hope it works out.”

Samael’s smile widened, more genuine. “I hope so, too.” Ne downed the remainder of the butterbeer, then sent the mug to land neatly in the sink. “It’ll take me a bit. I don’t know how long, but I’ll be out of touch.”

“He won’t go looking for you?” Ernie asked. 

“We’re not in each other’s pockets. We never were. He might notice my absence but probably won’t think anything of it. We’re all adults, technically speaking.” Samael brushed nir hands off. “Thank you. I’ll see you later. Have fun dealing with the hangover.”

Ne didn’t wait for a response, switching between the dimensions for the world of Hogwarts. Death was connected, and so were the afterlives, but it would nonetheless be easier to start in this world.

When Samael stepped through, ne stepped onto a white platform. It was a train station, though the only one way could tell was by the train tracks by the side. There was no ceiling, though pillars stretched up into a white void; there were no walls. The place gave off the impression of a liminal space with no boundaries.

At least it was somewhat familiar – somewhat expected from what Samael knew of this world.

Hands in nir jacket pockets, Samael stepped up to the edge of the platform, waiting for the train that would come.

It didn’t take long. The whistle of a train and the rhythmic chug-chugging of the engine came first before Samael saw a white train emerge from the white nothingness that surrounded this platform. The train didn’t stop, but it did slow, albeit without the hissing of brakes.

In the front of the train, wearing a conductor’s cap, was Billie. She looked very unimpressed with the current state of affairs, one elbow leaning on the window sill while the other took care of driving.

Space slowed, time turning into a crawl. Samael looked up at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Where Death is, so follow nir reapers,” Billie intoned, face impassive. “What are you doing here, Death?”

“You already know.”

“You have no right.”

“I am the only one who has the right.”

“Not even Death can break the rules as ne wishes.”

“No?” Samael raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to have kept up to date on the news, Billie.”

“There are rules for a reason, Death.” Billie wasn’t looking at nem but instead the train tracks that stretched on to eternity. “You break them as you wish…chaos ensues. You know how that looks all too well.”

“The former Death and my Father made mistakes, leaving their chaos for us to take care of. Their inaction cost us too much. No one said I was going to break the rules as I wish – I know my own duties too well for that – but following the rules blindly can also lead to chaos. Inflexibility is as gross an injustice as inaction.”

“You are not justice.”

“No,” Samael said softly, “I am death. I am life. I am the nothing. I am the End. I am the beginning and the end of the line. And there is something I can do here – a postponing of a death that happened too soon.”

“That is not your call to make. Death follows its path; everyone has their time.”

Samael straightened nir jacket sleeves, fiddling with the little zipper at nir wrist. Ne didn’t look away from Billie. “Is that your professional opinion as a reaper, Billie?”

“You asked me to help guide you,” Billie said, the slightest hint of wariness entering her tone. “You asked for a second-in-command. Are you rescinding that?”

Samael shrugged, tucking nir hands back in nir pockets. “No. Call me on my bullshit however and whenever you please; I won’t hurt you for that. I’ll take your advice under consideration, but I won’t always listen. Have you ever carried the scythe before?”

“No.”

“Then don’t presume to tell me what is and isn’t my call to make. Not when I feel the pulse of every death in existence – every life that has passed and is about to pass and will pass. Not when I know exactly what boundaries there are and what shouldn’t be crossed. And this? This is no hard boundary. This is a choice I will be offering. A choice I will not offer nearly as much as you’re worrying about.”

“This is a very slippery slope you’re traversing, Samael.”

Samael’s answering smile was cool. “Didn’t you know, Reaper Billie? My existence has been about the slippery slope.”

Billie gave nem a long look, eyes narrowed. “The ego of you angels.”

Samael shrugged. It was true enough. Death had said it frequently. “And yet this was given to me. Consider what that means.”

Billie’s mouth twisted into a grimace. She looked away, back to the train tracks stretching into eternity. “Fine. You and I both know I can’t stop you.” The train whistle screamed, and the brakes hissed as the locomotive slowed, a door opening. “Do as you wish.”

Samael didn’t thank her, grabbing hold of the handholds outside the door and stepping into the moving train. The door slid shut behind nem, and the eerie whiteness of the platform faded.

Billie wasn’t happy with nem, but they had eternity together for Samael to try to form a better working relationship. But this…this was too important for simple rules.

Samael turned to the right, walking through the carriages. It wasn’t like the subway cars of New York City of old. It resembled a train from Europe, which made some sense. There were tables set up on both sides and four seats to a table. The train wasn’t empty, numerous other souls filling the seats.

But they had no features. They were beings of light, composed of numerous lifetimes of memories.

There was nothing to be seen outside the windows beyond shapeless white, but somehow the train still had shadows flickering across the floor and the souls, like there were things outside blocking the light source. The shadows flickered between trees, mountains, buildings… All vague and nebulous.

Perhaps it was for familiarity’s sake for these souls.

Not all the seats were taken. Some had four and some had three. Some had two. Some only had one. They were all silent, watchful, though they didn’t seem alarmed at Samael’s presence.

Samael continued walking down the narrow path through the carriages. Ne didn’t know Eleanor and Alan Hopkins. Ne had never met them, never seen how Michael saw them. Ne only had their names to go off of, but if they were Michael’s human parents… It was likely something of Michael would still cling to them even now.

There was no end to the train. No end to the rhythmic rumbling beneath nir feet. No end or change to the surroundings outside. There were just the shifting shadows inside, as well as the different souls in each carriage.

It was okay. Samael had time. There was no rush.

Eventually, sixty carriages later, something familiar pricked at nir senses. Something warm, like a crackling fireplace on a cold winter’s evening. It wasn’t anywhere near as hot as Michael could run, but it was still him. A sense of him.

There were two souls at the table in the middle of the carriage. They sat next to each other, facing empty seats on the other side of the table.

Samael slowed to a stop next to them, studying them curiously.

Like all the other souls ne had seen thus far, these two were a compilation of numerous lifetimes. There were no names attached to them, just a wealth of experiences and Michael’s energy.

Samael slid into one of the seats in front of them, sliding towards the window and leaning back against it, legs spread out along the length of the bench, which obligingly lost its arm rests. Folding nir arms over nir chest, ne waited, continuing to study them closely.

Finally, there was acknowledgement from one of them. A question asked, an inquiry about what ne wanted.

Samael smiled. “I’d like your names.”

Okay, ne cheated a little here. Nudged a tiny bit, pulling slightly on what was there of Michael’s energy to help the souls remember their most recent lifetime.

It was the one closest to the window who started changing first, the nondescript light of the soul shifting into something more distinct. The light faded, pulling inwards, revealing tan skin and laugh lines around light-colored eyes. Her dark hair was in a braid with only a few gray hair speckled throughout. “My name is Eleanor.”

The other soul changed second, a little more hesitantly. Soon, a dark-skinned man with wire-framed glasses sat next to Eleanor. His eyes were dark, kind, and similarly framed with laugh lines. “Alan.”

Some minute tension Samael hadn’t noticed before left nem. Ne hadn’t thought ne’d gotten it wrong, but there was always the chance… At least now ne could be sure. “My name’s Samael.”

“Samael,” Eleanor repeated, watching nem with open curiosity. “How can we help you?”

“Well, I hope you can.” Samael smiled again, looking at both of them. “You…may be familiar with my brother? Michael? Or…Wayne?”

There was instant recognition on both their faces even before Samael gave the name of Michael’s human alias. Recognition and love. It slammed into Samael with the force of light speed. 

“You’re—” Eleanor covered her mouth with a hand, her other going to grab hold of Alan’s tightly. “Do you know? Is he okay? Is he doing well?”

Samael’s smile brightened into a grin. “He’s doing well, Eleanor.”

Eleanor’s eyes closed in visible relief, her breath escaping with a loud sigh. Alan laid his hand over hers, squeezing it reassuringly. He seemed relieved as well, a quiet sort of relief that was nonetheless still intense.

“What are you doing here?” Alan asked.

Samael shrugged. “I’m here for you. To give you two a choice.”

“A choice?” Eleanor sounded hesitant.

“Yes.” Samael shifted, sitting upright and folding nir hands on the table, leaning forward. “Come back with me.”

Eleanor and Alan exchanged glances, confusion and worry most prominent on their faces.

“We’re dead,” Eleanor said, looking back at Samael.

“Yes,” Samael agreed bluntly, “but you don’t have to stay dead.”

Eleanor inhaled sharply even as Alan shook his head slightly, brow furrowed. They didn’t seem to understand.

“I don’t know what Michael shared with you about what we can do, but resurrecting the dead… It’s entirely possible. So I’m here. Giving you the choice.”

“He…didn’t tell us much,” Alan said after a moment. “I think he was worried how we would respond.”

That sounded very much like Michael. Especially the one Samael knew now. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“It was our time,” Eleanor said, squeezing Alan’s hand. “Our time to go. I know you’re…an angel?”

“An archangel,” Samael said, “second oldest to Michael.”

Shadows flickered over Eleanor’s face, the odd light changing as the train continued moving. “I…don’t recall seeing your name.”

Samael shrugged, fiddling with the end of nir jacket. “The Bible doesn’t have a lot of us. It names a few – Michael being one. I was in there as well.” Ne didn’t wish to mention Lucifer yet. The goal was to get them back, not scare them off. “I am an archangel, and I do have the ability to reverse death.”

“It was our time,” Eleanor repeated.

“…You died because Michael interfered,” Samael said gently. “Without his presence, you two would have continued living.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Eleanor said sharply, a surge of protectiveness rising.

“I didn’t say it was. But the fact remains that if he hadn’t acted as he did, you two would never have come into the picture for Voldemort.”

There was a slight flinch from Eleanor at the name, one not mirrored by Alan. He gave her a concerned look, squeezing her hand. 

“If you have to look for a loophole, then you know this isn’t right,” Eleanor said.

“No loophole. Just the hard facts. The only reason Michael didn’t do it himself is because he didn’t know where you two went. You can’t retrieve souls without knowing where the souls are.”

“How did you know?” Eleanor asked.

Samael smiled. “I’m Death.”

Ne wasn’t sure what they saw of nir other aspect, the new power that now resided in nir Grace, but something must have shown, for they both flinched backwards.

“Yama,” Eleanor breathed, a hand at her chest.

It wasn’t a name Samael was familiar with. Hesitating, ne reached out to glean what Eleanor meant by that. They were Hindu? Their Father must have had one hell of a sense of humor to put Michael in a family that believed in pagans. “Ah. No. I’m no god.”

“You said—”

“I’m Death. Not the god of death, but death itself. Death is my domain; all souls that die fall under my purview. So I have that final say on what happens to souls.”

“You said it was our choice,” Alan pointed out, watching Samael warily.

“It is. I won’t take you if you have no desire to go back. But you have the option.”

Eleanor shared glances with Alan once more.

“I don’t regret it,” Eleanor said eventually, turning to meet Samael’s eyes once more. “It wasn’t his fault what happened. He did what was right. What happened afterwards…it was our time. If not then, at some other point in the future. Wayne – Michael will do well without us. He’ll move on.”

Samael could leave it at that – not influence their choices. It was a choice. It was a perfectly fine choice.

Except…ne felt fingers run through nir hair, a warm Grace blanketing nem and trying to reassure nem despite the pain tearing nir Grace apart. The grief that suddenly appeared and then disappeared without warning.

“A med-witch… Was she…where you learned to do that?”

 “When I was still human…yes. She was a good teacher. They both were.”

The grief of loss that never really went away no matter how much time passed. Seeing Gabriel through the years, how he would put on a mask and yes, he had been happy, but it hadn’t been happiness, that grief of loss remaining millions of years later.

And that had just been his friends.

From everything Samael had heard, Michael’s parents had been good. And here, just in this small conversation,  Samael could see that. Could see how much they loved Michael, how much they would do for him. That Eleanor had fought to the death to protect someone who didn’t need that protection.

Samael knew how that felt. Knew what it was like to be so cherished and valued that someone would go to incredible lengths to make sure ne was safe. And it had been by the only real father ne had known.

Gabriel would never know. He had found it awkward enough to be put into that position when Samael had just been Sam, an AI. 

But Samael could never forget.

“Why would you do that after - after everything I did? Everything that – that other me did?”

“…Because I wanted to. Because I could. Because you’re family.”

“You don’t—”

“Regret it? No. Never. I’d do it again if I needed to.”

Ne had always, always known Gabriel would be there for nem. Even after the nightmares. Even after ne found out who ne was. Even after regaining nir Grace and the struggle of rebuilding a relationship that Samael had shattered.

Gabriel had been there.

That security of knowing – that was what was so important.

And Samael cheated again, because Michael was nir sibling and he deserved something. And this was something Samael could fix. “You’re right,” ne agreed. “He’ll be fine. He can take care of himself. But he will never stop grieving you. Or blaming himself for his role in what happened. You should have had long lives, but they ended much sooner because of what he did. Not,” ne said quickly, putting up a hand to forestall the indignant protests, “because it was actually his fault, but because he believes it was. You’re gone because of his interference.”

“He – he’ll move on,” Eleanor managed, voice strangled. “We’re just—”

“Human?” Samael smiled sadly. “You were never just human to him. You were his. Time will pass, but he won’t forget, and he won’t stop grieving. It’s not in our nature.”

Gabriel had never stopped grieving. As Tony, he had it a little easier, able to soften the intensity of an archangel’s grief, but he was still too angelic for that to truly work. They were just two sides of the same coin.

“We all die,” Alan pointed out slowly. “Now or later…there’s no difference.”

“The difference is time. It can make all the difference.” Samael hoped. It hadn’t helped Gabriel much, not with the anvil of his friends disappearing over his head. But maybe Michael was cut from a different cloth.

Eleanor and Alan said nothing, both of them looking at each other and seeming to have a silent conversation that spoke of years together.

Samael gave them a little bit, before nudging once more. “Would you let Michael continue to believe he’s at fault for your deaths?”

Eleanor looked stricken, shaking her head. She pressed a hand to her eyes. Alan frowned, swapping the hand he had over Eleanor’s to pull her into his side.

“This is your choice,” Samael said again. “I’ll let you think it over a little more. I’ll be at the front of the carriage.”

Samael stood, sliding out from behind the table to make nir way to the front and the empty table ne had seen earlier in this carriage. It was still empty. Ne sat down, then laid down on the seats; the armrests once more decided it would be better for them to go elsewhere.

The ceiling of the carriage looked remarkably normal, shadows flitting over it. The seats below Samael rumbled with the slow and steady chug-chug of the train’s engine and the wheels over the train tracks. 

Ne felt for that scar in nir Grace, that wound where Michael’s sword had almost killed nem. It throbbed slightly, an ache that had yet to fade.

There was no such thing as time in this realm, but Samael’s extremely accurate internal clock stated it had been thirty minutes and forty-five seconds by the time ne was approached by Eleanor and Alan.

Ne propped nemself up on nir elbows, hit nir shoulder on the table, winced, and then managed to wiggle back into a upright sitting position. Hopefully without looking too stupid.

Judging from the restrained smiles on both of their faces, that was a failure.

Samael did not rub at nir shoulder. “So, uh…made a decision?”

“Yes,” Eleanor said. “Take us back.”

Their souls were warm against nir Grace. Samael made sure nir grip was gentle, harmless. Billie didn’t stop the train again, but Samael didn’t need her to. Ne opened the door of the moving train and stepped out onto a platform.

The train chugged away, disappearing into the whiteness. Ne tugged nir jacket closer, around the two souls nestled close to nem, and stepped back into the world of the living.

There were a few ways one could revive the dead. One was with their actual bodies, rejuvenating them and putting them back in working order. That was the easiest, since healing what was destroyed was always easier than making something from scratch.

Eleanor and Alan guided nem to their hometown, which was easily enough found. It was a small village on the cusp of being a town in the English countryside. It was quiet and peaceful, so Samael could certainly picture how much of a shock a double-murder must have been.

The cemetery was on the outskirts. It wasn’t very large, which made sense. There was an older one more in the inside of the village by the church, but this one was newer.

It was also here that Samael ran into a snag, because Eleanor and Alan had been cremated. Naturally. Given their culture and religion. They did have two tombstones, but Samael didn’t need to dig down to know they had urns and not caskets.

The tombstones seemed a little impersonal, not at all like Michael had a hand in them himself. But he had cremated them. Personally. His Grace still shrouded their urns.

There was worry from Eleanor and Alan at this, their souls more aware of such matters than they would have been if they were alive.

Samael could try for their ashes, but that seemed a little crass. And ne would have to get past Michael’s Grace to do so.

So option two it was. Ne would have to rebuild their bodies from scratch.

Or maybe mud…? Ne could be traditional about it but skip taking Alan’s rib to make Eleanor.

Ne chose an isolated spot in the middle of the moors for this. There was plenty of earth to use here, to ground them to life.

Samael recalled the physical appearances they’d used on the train. Ne could recreate that easily enough, though the smaller details would be missed because ne had no idea about Alan’s eyesight that led to him wearing glasses. He probably wouldn’t mind having perfect vision…

When asked, Alan just requested his frames, which Samael could do without any issue.

In the end, Samael only used a little bit of earth, a reminder for their souls where they came from. Air went into their lungs, as a way for them to breathe. Water was also used for the composition, since human bodies needed so much of it. 

Ne recreated their clothing based off what they’d been wearing in the train.

Once done, Samael slowly and carefully took their souls and placed them in their new bodies, pressing nir palms to their foreheads and easing the transition. It took several minutes for them to settle, transitioning from an ethereal state of being to something more physical.

Samael watched them closely. It was a little trickier with new bodies instead of their old ones, and this was too important to mess up.

Eleanor was the first who opened her eyes, blinking rapidly and squinting into the light. She caught sight of Samael a moment later, eyes widening.

Samael smiled at her. “Welcome back.”

Eleanor looked over at Alan, who had his eyes screwed tight against the sunlight. She reached out to touch his arm, a little clumsy. “Alan…”

It was a moment before Alan opened his eyes, turning his head towards her. He stared, not speaking.

Eleanor laughed, the sound breaking slightly. “Alan…we’re here.”

Alan reached out to touch her cheek, clumsy and shaky. He didn’t say anything, just touching her.

It felt unbearably intimate, like something Samael shouldn’t be privy to. Ne quickly whisked nemself away, giving them privacy but also still keeping them in eyesight so they knew where ne was. 

Ne sprawled out on the ground, looking up at the sky.

Earth was nice. No other planet compared to it. Though, to be fair, no planets compared to each other either. They were all unique, different.

It was just that Earth was nostalgic. So much about what had happened revolved around it. At least now ne had positive memories and not just…

The sky was pink and orange by the time Eleanor and Alan made their way to nem. Samael sat up as they approached, looping an arm around a knee and watching them.

They carefully sat down by nem, Alan steadying Eleanor. 

“Thank you,” Eleanor told nem. 

“You’re welcome,” Samael said, smiling warmly at them. “It’s not a favor. I didn’t do this to make you owe me anything. This is for Michael. For the boy you call your son.”

“Your name is Samael?” Alan asked.

“I’m his younger sibling,” Samael said. “Though he’s the oldest, so we’re all younger compared to him. But I’m the second oldest.”

“I didn’t see your name in the Bible,” Eleanor said slowly.

Samael’s smile faded. “It was there. But I have more than one.”

Eleanor hesitated. “Which one was it?”

Samael held her gaze for a long moment. “You would have known me as Lucifer.”

Alan stiffened, drawing in a sharp breath. His grip on Eleanor’s hand tightened. Eleanor’s grip tightened in response, the skin at her knuckles whitening.

“Lucifer?” Alan’s voice was quiet.

“At one time.”

“You and Michael were enemies,” Eleanor said, nervous.

“Yeah.” Samael shifted, folding nir legs. “At one time. We’re not anymore. For my part…not for a long time. It’s been less time for Michael.”

“He was supposed to throw you down,” Eleanor whispered. “The serpent.”

Samael winced, folding nir hands together. “…He did. A long time ago. The book of revelations, if you read it…it never came to pass. Or perhaps it did, a version of it.” Gabriel had blown his horn for Lucifer, all those years ago. “But Gabriel dealt with it then.”

“The Messenger?”

Samael hummed in answer. “The youngest of us four. The best of us.” Even if Gabriel would disagree.

Eleanor laid her other hand over Alan’s. “You really didn’t bring us back with any ulterior motives.”

“No.” Samael gave them a smile, as reassuring as ne could make it. “I brought you back because of Michael.”

“Where is he?” Alan asked.

“He isn’t here.” Samael looked out at the moor around them, the vast expanse of brown and green and the pink-and-orange sky. “This is your world, the one where you and he were born. This was the easiest place to bring you back because you were familiar with this. Michael is where I’m from. I can bring you back there.”

“Could you bring him here?”

“Theoretically,” Samael said slowly. “But he doesn’t know I did this. I didn’t want him disappointed if you two decided not to come.”

“You would have respected that,” Eleanor said, wondering.

“I usually did,” Samael admitted quietly. “Lying…was never one of my vices. I know humans said I did – that I lied. But the truth hurts more than lies ever do, and it was a weapon I wielded to achieve my goals.” Ne looked down at nir hands, smaller and gentler than the ones of Nick ne had inhabited so long ago, or even that of Sam Winchester. “Those are goals I no longer hold.”

Eleanor and Alan exchanged glances. Their expressions were difficult to read, though Samael made no effort to, keeping nir eyes turned away from them.

“We believe you,” Eleanor said after a moment. “You’ve given us no reason not to trust you.”

Samael looked at her sidelong. “There are many who would say otherwise. Still…I appreciate your trust.” Ne extended both hands to them. “Would you come with me? To Michael?”

Eleanor and Alan didn’t let go of each other’s hands, but they had two hands, and it was with their free ones that they clasped hold of Samael’s in a silent answer.

Samael exhaled slowly, smiled at them, and linked their fingers together.

Michael was probably going to be happy. At least his human parents could deal with that awful grief-guilt.

[a-libra-writes]

Can you do a romantic headcanon for Victor please from Lackadaisy

Yeeeesssss. This is sort of paired with my earlier married life HCs? This is mostly the non-married stuff (as in yall meeting way later), so sorry for the long preamble! Reader is intended to be femme.

So, the relationship is quite different depending if you were with him when he was younger, or you two got involved during the later Lackadaisy years. If it's the latter, there's ... a lot more guilt and troubled thoughts involved.

For the former - when he was much younger, Viktor was shy, but he made his intentions clear. It would've been more old-fashioned courting, especially if you both met in the old country. He smiled a lot more back then, moreso if you were around.

Attempting to start something when he's years into working for Atlas is .... tricky. Even when it's clear you two have a mutual attraction, and a steady friendship, there's a barrier between you. You don't learn until much later what that barrier is, and why there's so much guilt and sadness in his interactions toward you.

It's the kneecapping that gets you both closer, not that either of you realize it at first. You were always at the Lackadaisy, and even after the ... mess, you didn't intend to leave. Neither did he, and though you wished Viktor would get out of this life, for a long time you'd assumed he had nowhere else to go. It's around this time that you finally learn about the estranged wife, and the daughter whose letters weren't opened. It makes the shame and guilt in his interactions with you make far, far more sense.

So even if nothing may come of it, you stay at his side and with the Lackadaisy, like you always have. You give him quiet company without any strings, sometimes bringing meals (okay, often, because he doesn't cook for himself enough), help him fetch things when his knees make it impossible. Your company is a great, great comfort - even if he never says that, you can tell. Some more observant folks might be able to, as well - the big grumpy man is clearly calmer and more at ease when you're in the room. Yes, this is why Rocky consults you before asking anything of Viktor. Hell, even Mitzi brings things up concerning him with you first.

Ivy is arguably the biggest and loudest supporter of you both, though she doesn't always notice how uncomfortable it makes Viktor, so you have to try to dial down her enthusiasm. She refers to you both as a package deal to others, furthering the assumption to others that you're a couple. And unbeknownst to you, Viktor has brought you up to Elsa, even before Atlas' death and when everything went to hell ... She listened to him without judgement, as she always does, silently hoping he'd stop torturing himself over it and that you were a good person. She wants very much for you to be a good person for her friend.

Well, all the hang-ups aside... once it does eventually happen, and that line has crossed, there's really no going back on it.

Viktor's gone a long time feelings he's undeserving of both receiving and giving affection. He's so used to violence, and accepting the consequences of choosing that life. So, it'll be small-going at first. You'll sit next to him and take his big arm in your's, rest your head against him - and he may lean into it, or stay still. He'll accept quick kisses on the forehead and cheek, especially if you hold his face, but sometimes too much makes him bristle. You will have to be very, very patient.

Eventually he'll put an arm around you when you sit next to time, especially when you're both in the privacy of a warm home. He's extra comfortable and warm to snuggle against! Viktor may grumble a little when you curl up, but he never pushes you away. If anything he'll grab a blanket, since you seem so cold. Many times you two have dozed off like this.

When you're wanting a hug, it's hard for Viktor to deny you, though he feels he's no good at providing comfort. He's better than he thinks, though! You're engulfed in warmth and you feel very protected. You can feel his heart skipping when you rest your cheek against his chest. Viktor isn't sure how long to stay, so he keeps still until you get your fill. If you're actually tall enough, he'll rest his chin on top of your head and try to allow himself to enjoy your embrace.

(On the note of PDA - he isn't inclined to it at all, being a more private man, but if you're already sitting beside him and have your arm in his, he won't pull away. He'll just growl at anyone who dares comment on it.)

It's probably only you, Elsa and Ivy who see Viktor's gentler side, and you're seeing the most of it. He'll hand you his big coat when it's rainy and cold outside (and be nothing short of shocked when you return it washed and smelling floral), he holds you carefully, he speaks much less roughly. Arguably the softest thing you two do is late in the evening, when you're cuddled up on his lap instead of on his side, and playing with his hand while you chat with him. He talks so low you can hear his voice rumbling in his chest, his accent somehow thicker yet easier to understand.

Literally no one else will ever see that side of him so enjoy it and soak it up!!

This is also the time you can finally get him to teach you some Slovak, whereas he's usually brushing you off and saying there's no point. Your accent isn't perfect but that's okay, he finds it endearing. He might actually mess with you and teach wrong words or phases, just so you can figure it out later.

Oh, and in addition to the decent food you make him eat - more than once you've made or bought some good clothes for him, because you know Viktor won't spend anything on himself. Whether it be a scarf or a pair of gloves or a jacket, he wears it often. He'll wear it until it's in tatters, actually. He isn't much for household decorations (any plants will probably end up dead...) but small touches you add around his home will give him some little feelings of sentiment when he looks at them.

(Co-habitation is pretty much out of the picture if you two aren't married, even spending the night at the other's house is .... another one of those lines.)

Doing "normal" couple things with you gives him both a sense of ease and normalcy, though there's always the guilt that will be nagging in the back. In the daytime he might accompany you on some errands, leading to the sight of a huge scary cat looming over a smaller and more easy-going one. ("Excuse me, he asked for no pickles.")

He might grumble about having to carry things, but he really doesn't mind these errands. If anything, it's good for him to get out of the bar and his apartment. He's still just as protective, though... god forbid someone looks at you too long, or someone tries to talk down to you. They'd have to be stupid to try anything when he's glowering with his one eye.

You thought his overprotectiveness was just the result of rowdy customers and drunk men during Lackadaisy's heyday, but no, it still persists. It's nice to have someone who will literally throw someone that's harassing you, buuut sometimes Viktor gets too ... enthusiastic, or makes hasty decisions. There's a few stores you aren't allowed back in because he decided to threaten and/or bodily harm a man who was getting too chummy.

Overall, it can be ... a slow and trying relationship, but if you're patient and someone who also wants a steady comfort, and you already value your friendship with him - well, Viktor is a much better man than he thinks he is.

[pastafossa]

The last day of 2023.

And holy shit has it been a chaotic ride, one which you all shared with me, or that's what it feels like!

The Major Moments:

Feb: Cato's cancer diagnosis and discovery of weird mutated cells that likely won't be explained until after he passes away. He's still with me, fortunately! No idea how much time he has left but I'm grateful for every second

April: a small leak in my dining room ceiling turned into a bigger leak which turned into a massive hole in the ceiling, at least it wasn't winter???

May: DD Born Again Photos give us all a goddamn heart attack

May: I FUCKING REACH MY OVERALL 1,000,000 WORD COUNT ON AO3. 🎊 🎉 🎊 Next stop is 1mill for TRT!

June: Went to my first con since Covid! Drove all the way down to Philly to see Charlie Cox, WHICH WAS FUCKING AMAZING, HE HELD THE RED THREAD FOR OUR PHOTO, MY FANFIC DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE, AND I TOLD HIM WHAT DD MEANS TO ME AND HE WAS SO NICE I COULD CRY

June: At that same con, I finally FINALLY got to meet my bff @wonderlandmind4 in person after many many many late nights of chatting, and we just CLICKED like we'd been friends for years, which I should have expected, but still! And then I got to meet a bunch of my readers, too! Best con experience EVER

July: enter Whoops Covid Finally Got Me After 3 Years But Charlie Was Worth It ™

July: Finally dusted off my draft of Pasta's First Dark Fic cause even if my brain was too fuzzy to write, I figured I could edit a bit. And I did! And was pretty happy with the results!

August: Shit Now There's A Long Covid Heart Issue And I Can't Be Seen Until Late November Thanks Covid ®

August: leak in the garage leads to me losing about 65% of all the beautiful, special woods pieces I'd gathered over the course of six years for carving. Within a week I am gifted a huge bin of wood from a kind soul at my local witchy shop

Sept: TRT's 6th anniversary!

Nov: I was slowly getting back into the swing of things, doing a bit of writing in between learning to manage whatever was going on with my heart (which we'll hopefully figure out in January when I get all the results of testing in Jan)

Early Dec, and the worst week of my life: mom got sick. Within one day she went from not feeling good to needing an ambulance. By the next day, she was in the ICU - flu induced double pneumonia that was interfering with her breathing and heart issues. And with one more day, she was put into an induced coma and ventilated, without any of us sure if she'd pull through. They told us she'd likely be under for two weeks, potentially longer even if she made it. The amount of messages and supportive comments I got from all of you, the talks I had with @wonderlandmind4 and @shouldbestudying41, just the general sense of having a community to help me means more than I can ever say as you all helped me through that terrible, horrible moment, even if it was just gently messaging me to remind me to try to eat.

Mid Dec: against ALL odds, Mom was off the ventilator in a week. By week 2, she was out of the ICU. By week 3? Off to the physical rehab center. She was there a grand total of 1 week before she was allowed to come home to finish her recovery. Early December was the worst moment of my life, and yet it was also bookended by the best Christmas of my life even if it was spent at the rehab center, because I got to have my mama back, and hug her and tell her I loved her and make jokes, and now she's home and we've been watching Christmas movies and eating grilled cheeses, and as far as I'm concerned, that's what the holiday is to me: not presents and snow and lights, but this moment, this time with her. 'In all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas.'

In just a few hours for me, it'll be 2024. I have no idea what to expect going forward, or even what to plan for, much less a resolution. I know I want to get back to TRT when mom's a bit better (she still needs a lot of help, understandably). I know there are wood carvings I want make; friends I want to visit; witchy events at my local shop I want to go to. But other than that... who knows? If I'm lucky, things will be calmer than this past year. But even if they aren't, at least I know I have dear friends, all of you, and my family, including Pasta Mama, to help me through it.

Goodbye, 2023. Hello, 2024.

[rowretro]

✧𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍✧

WARNINGS: nothing i know of

✧taglist✧: @heeseung-min @jaeneohee @lovingvoidgoatee @neruishoon (anyone I may have missed)

✧CHAPTER 8✧

It's been a week since the girl had found out she's pregnant. She was currently visiting back home, Sunghoon accompanying her. "Y/n look- its the barbie doll I completely damaged" Heeseung snickered "Yeah im surprised you aren't a serial killer" y/n mumbled. Heeseung rolled his eyes as he started talking about how he was the creator of weird barbie and that Kate McKinnon played the role of a character he created when he was an 8 year old who bullied his babysis.

"Awww it's pinky bear!" y/n squealed as she pulled her pink teddy bear out, the two felt nostalgic as they went through the old toy boxes in their attic. Y/n smiled rocking the teddy bear gently as if it were a baby which really weirded Heeseung out. The girl was seen carrying the bear everywhere. "Y/n can you make me a cup of tea sweety?" Her mum asked as the girl smiled.

She set the teddy down, and turned the kettle on, somehow, as she tried to reach for the tea bags, she accidentally turned the stove on, where the pink teddy was "NO! PINKY BEAR-!" she yelled as she picked up the bear, crying to herself, Heeseung blinked at her then walked away.

The girl handed her mother the cup of tea, as she took a seat beside Sunghoon, "You take anything from the attic you need sweety?" the woman asked as y/n smiled "Yeah my pinky- Pin- PINKY- oh no..." she ran to the kitchen and looked in the freezer "Oh no" she whimpered. "Oh honey it's ok, she's still ok you can take it home n put it in the washing machine" her mom reassured.

Pouting, y/n took a seat on the floor, fiddling with pinky, as her mom slipped beside her. Sunghoon was upstairs gaming with Heeseung. "God it feels like it's been forever- when was the last time I got to see my baby girl home?" her mother asked smiling as y/n smiled back. "Mom... did you ever regret having me?... I mean you had hee when you were 18 didn't we ruin Uni for you?" y/n asked as her mom sighed.

"Oh honey... well at first yes I was upset about being so irresponsible, but... When I saw your little faces, and the way you depended on me... I was willing to give up everything and anything for you 2..." the woman said as y/n smiled, staring down at the pink teddy bear. Maybe she should tell Sunghoon... even if he doesn't want them, it'll be best she know soon before it's too late. "Come on baby, home time~" Sunghoon sang as y/n kissed her mother and hugged her brother goodbye.

Y/n sat in the car, staring at her damaged teddy as she pouted. Seeing the teddy all damaged really hit her. There's a real baby inside her... She's going to be a real mom. Sunghoon got in the car, noticing her little pout "What is it baby?... is it the teddy? don't worry ill fix it for you hmm?" the man said as y/n turned to him, teary eyed. "Sunghoon... I haven't told anyone yet but... Im 1 month pregnant..." the girl said as the man stared in shock.

"A-Are you mad at me?..." you asked, scared as Sunghoon just hugged you tightly "Fuck baby... im fucking happy. There's a little us growing in there..." he smiled, his hand on your womb. He was actually happy. That genuine smile on his face said enough. "I-Im scared... t-this whole time I was trying to practice being a mommy with pinky... but pinky is all wounded because of me..." y/n sniffled "Oh baby... its just a teddy, trust me when I say this, once you see the look on our angel's face, your mommy instincts will kick in okay?... and I will be here for you, I'll always be by your side" he reassured, pulling you into a kiss.

✧𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍✧

[magicalrocketships]

not me discovering this fine evening that you wrote other parts of Won’t Get To Space here on tumblr 0.o that fic is like *my fic*: i read it probably once a month, i like it that much (plus - me and liam may have something in common and this fic doesn't make me feel pathetic like i sometimes feel - even if i'm in my 30s) .. so, thanks to that anon for talking about this fic and for you to link the other snippets: you just made the (what was supposed to be an early) evening for an European <3 if you ever want to share anything else in that universe, please do <3 i wish you an amazing day / night and thank you *very much* for creating this AU

oh, thank you! I'm so glad <3 It's so lovely to hear that it resonated with you.

I went looking for the sequel file in the depths of my dropbox, it has a last modified date of 2015, it was created in 2013, I don't have the original program I wrote it in anymore so I don't know if any of the formatting is messed up as I really haven't looked it in years, but here's the contents of the file. There's no ending and it's just bits and pieces, but please know that of course they end up happily, and I don't think I ever posted it in its entirety here.

I hope you see this, anon!

won't get to space because I haven't got a rocket part 2 (harry/liam/louis)

(first part here)

Like the sky is blue (all the things that stop you dreaming)

Come to London this weekend, we miss you xx

Liam grins down at his phone. He's on his break, eating two ham salad sandwiches and a bag of cheese and onion crisps in the back of the garage, flicking through The Mirror.

Your both in the paperrrrrrrrr, he texts, once he hits the 3am pages. Did u rlly fall out of a clubbb??????

Shameless lies !!! Louis texts back. we stumbled gracefully !!!!

His phone beeps with a message from Harry. I fell out of the cab not the club. lou just fell over me.

Liam laughs at that. What u uptooo?

Hanging around the record company !! Meetings . Boring !! Louis this time. They must be together, and reading each other's texts. Liam sort of likes the idea of them both peering down at the same phone, together.

Maybe touching all the way down one side.

He really likes thinking about them touching.

Gud luck xxxxx Liam hasn't got long left of his lunch. Mums berthdaaay this fri so cant come down :( sozzzzzzz :(

He has to get back to work anyway, so he stuffs his phone into his pocket before the reply arrives, and heads back across the garage to get on with Mrs Holloway's oil change.

~*~

Liam spends Friday night in Garfunkel's with his mum and his dad and his sisters, eating dinner in honour of his mum's birthday. He orders the chicken even though he normally gets the scampi, just like his dad, but it's nice to spend time with his parents and his sisters and just eat together.

Nicola tries not to talk about her wedding, but it's hard, since there's such a lot to organise, and everyone wants it to be great. His mum has been fretting about what to wear since Nicola first came home with her engagement ring, and she's pushing Nicola to try and find out what Graham's mum's wearing so that they don't clash.

Liam's dad makes the same grimace of 'these Payne women, what are we supposed to do with them' that he's been making at Liam since he realised they could have a secret club of two, and Liam makes the same face of agreement he's been making since he realised he could join in.

"Stop it, you two," his mum says, flicking Liam in the arm with her serviette. "It might not matter to you if we both show up in salmon pink from Debenhams, but it'll be embarrassing for our Nicola. And me."

"I know," Liam says. "What if I showed up in salmon pink from Debenhams too, it'd be terrible. I might cry."

"Liam," his mum says reprovingly, but Nicola smacks him in the arm.

"You'll be dressed like all the other ushers," she says, and Liam is very quickly reminded that Nicola is fast losing her sense of humour when it comes to her big day.

"I was only joking."

Nicola rolls her eyes at him. "I'm turning into a proper little madam," she says. "I know, you'll be all calling me Bridezilla the moment my back's turned."

"Of course we won't," his mum says. She leans over and pats her on the hand as the waiter comes over with their food. "It'll be perfect."

It takes a couple of minutes for everything to get sorted, and his dad's already tucking into his scampi and chips before Nicola turns her attention to Liam, and his Peri Peri chicken. "Have you got your eye on anyone, our kid? Anyone you might want to bring to the wedding?"

Liam immediately thinks about Louis and Harry, Louis sprawled out naked on his bed, laughing, and Harry bringing them both cups of tea. He wants to bring them, but firstly, there's no point banking on a future where they're concerned, and secondly, how could he ever explain that he's bringing two boys to his big sister's wedding? He's not even sure he could tell them he was bringing one boy to the wedding, let alone two.

"Ooh," Nicola says. "There is someone, isn't there? I can see it on your face."

"Is there?" Ruth asks.

Liam tries to school his face into something that won't give anything away. He rather suspects he fails. "Nah," he says. "Nothing that'll come to anything. Single pringle, that's me."

Ruth makes a sad face at him. "You'll find someone. You're brilliant, Liam."

Those people on OK Cupid who ever bothered messaging him back didn't think he was brilliant, and neither did all of Andy's friends. Nobody had, really, until Louis and Harry, and Liam was half convinced that they'd be off again given the slightest chance. Why would boys like that settle for a trainee mechanic from the midlands when they could have anyone in London town? It just didn't make sense. He fakes a smile for Ruth, and one for Nicola and his parents, and tries to turn their attention back to his mum and her birthday.

He's not sure it works.

~*~

His mum does a roast chicken on Sunday, and Liam rocks up at half eleven with a bunch of flowers for her, because it's her birthday weekend and she deserves flowers. He's in a good mood; Louis had rung him up at half past one in the morning to tell him that they missed him and trying to have sex without him there was rubbish and boring.

Liam hadn't believed that for a second, but he likes to be remembered, and Harry and Louis just keep on remembering him, like he isn't invisible, or see-through at the edges, but like he's real.

(talking about Nicola's wedding and asking Liam if he's bringing anyone, and Liam wanting to say yes but not being able to. Texting Louis and Harry from in front of the telly and his family thinking there's a girlfriend) Birthday weekend.

~*~

"What time do you finish work?" Louis asks, as soon as Liam picks up, and Liam’s so used to Louis and Harry constantly using each other’s phones that it doesn’t bother him that it’s Harry’s name that flashed up on his screen. It’s a picture of all three of them that comes with it, anyway, Harry in the middle with Louis on his back with his arm in the air, Liam holding the camera out and pressing in so that he’s in shot. It’s one of Liam’s favourite pictures. 

"Half five, why?" Liam asks. He’s supposed to be seeing them at the weekend, but it’s only Thursday. They have half-arsed plans to go and see the new Captain America film, and Liam’s desperately trying to cover up his desire to see it sooner rather than later. 

"We’re coming to pick you up," Louis says. "We’ve got plans for you."

"It’s Thursday, though," Liam says, puzzled. He has plans for tonight that involve putting a load of washing on and eating beans on toast in front of the telly. It’s the part of his life he tries to hide from Louis and Harry, who are surely only here for the exciting bits. 

"We know," Louis says. "You’re not busy, are you?"

"Nope," Liam says, although he’ll have to figure out when to do the washing now, so he’ll have clean pants for work on Monday. He’s very much in love with Louis and Harry, but he does have a Monday to Friday job he has to work the two of them around, which they don’t. 

"Brilliant," Louis says. "We’ll see you at half five. Love you."

"Right," Liam says, still puzzled, but Louis has already hung up. 

Half five shows up, but Louis and Harry don’t. Liam sits outside the garage with his jacket zipped up, and passes his phone from hand to hand, waiting for them. He doesn’t want to ring in case they’re driving, so he sits outside and hopes that he hasn’t got the day wrong. 

They don’t show up until ten to six, by which point Liam is already about ready to leave to go home. Harry pulls his Range Rover up in front of the garage though, parking it totally skewiff, and Louis is already tumbling out of the passenger door even as Liam is standing up to meet them. 

"Hello," Louis says, bounding over and pushing Liam up against the wall. "Happy Captain America Day, Steve."

"What?" Liam says, but Louis is kissing him hello. Liam can’t quite bring himself to be bothered about who might see. 

"Captain America Day," Harry says, carefully pushing Louis out of the way and kissing Liam gently. "Here, we got you a t-shirt in honour of the occasion."

Louis pulls open his denim jacket to display a t-shirt with Captain America’s shield right there in the centre. Harry is wearing one with a giant Avengers A in the middle. The one they’re holding out for Liam is royal blue, with a white star in the middle and red and white stripes at the bottom. 

"What—"

"Suit up," Louis says. "Here, preferably. Where we can stare at how hot you are."

Liam swallows, and looks down at his t-shirt. “Why are you here?” he asks, because ninety-five per cent of the time, he has no idea why Louis and Harry even bother with him. 

"Because Steve’s your favourite, and because you’re our favourite, and because we wanted to take our boyfriend out," Harry says. "We’ve got tickets for the eight o’clock showing, we’ve got a table at that burger place near that bowling alley that we went to first, and then we’re all going to go back to yours afterwards and let you talk about how hot Captain America is whilst we fuck you."

"That last part’s my favourite," Louis says, leaning in. "That was my idea, that bit. You can talk about how you’d like Steve to fuck you, if you like. Whilst we jerk you off. Make you come all over yourself."

"Oh," Liam says. Luckily he works on a nice, quiet road. It’s good, that, because he’s sporting a semi. "Right. That’s good, then."

"Brilliant," Harry says. "Now, are you going to change your top, or what? It’s been a whole week since we’ve seen you topless, and we’re getting withdrawal symptoms."

"All right," Liam says softly, and pulls open his jacket. 

(weekend at Liam's)

~*~

MINI BREAK

Plan to go away for a mini break, rent a house for the bank holiday weekend – Frisbee and piggy in the middle on the beach, bacon sandwiches, watching dvds and fucking, joking about singing together, Liam thinks it's a silly joke, they're not joking.

"We should go away," Liam says, without really thinking about it. It's either late one night or early one morning, but his watch is too far away for him to check, and anyway, he doesn't care enough to move. It's dark outside and he's naked. Anything else is just details.

"We're away now," Harry points out, from where he's lying, cheek pressed to Liam's chest. He's playing with Liam's nipple, grazing his fingertips over Liam's skin, thumbnail catching. Liam slides his hand down Harry's side, down towards his hip. He's too sleepy to initiate sex again, but he's not tired enough to fall asleep right this instant. "Well, me and Louis are."

"Don't suppose many people actually holiday in Wolvo, Haz." Louis, for reasons known only to him and at best impenetrable to Liam, is standing by the side of Liam's bed, wearing one sock and steadily eating his way through a packet of chocolate HobNobs. "You are talking about a holiday, right?"

Liam shrugs. He hadn't exactly thought about options. He'd barely got as far as thinking through what he'd actually said. "It might be nice," he says, as carefully as he can. Holidays and mini-breaks are what couples do. People in relationships. He's still not entirely sure that this counts. He's half-convinced that every time he sees Harry and Louis, it's going to be the last.

~*~

LIAM WANTS TO TELL HIS PARENTS, he just wants people to be happy for him like he's happy with them. Is convinced they're going to take it well because they've always loved him and supported him and wanted him to be happy.

I told my mum and dad about the 3 of us, Liam texts, on Thursday night. He's careful with his spelling, for once. It takes him about three goes to get it right, and at least two and a half of those he can put down to his hands shaking.

It's about thirteen seconds until his phone rings.

"You all right?" Louis demands, as soon as Liam answers.

Liam lets out a ragged breath. "No?"

"God," Louis says. "You idiot. Why didn't you tell us? We could have, I don’t know, been there. We're like, two and a half hours away. Harry's gone to the shop for a Cornetto and a banana."

Liam tries, desperately, to get a handle on his breathing. "You don't have to—" he says, but then everything he's been trying to keep inside just comes rushing out, and he doesn't mean it to, he really doesn't, but he's crying. He's crying down the phone because his mum and dad don't want him. They don't want him, and they're everything to him, and he really, really thought they'd understand. "They don't want me," he manages, after a while. "Lou, they don't want me."

Louis' breath catches. "Oh, baby," he says. "Sweetheart."

"What am I going to do?" Liam can't think. He can't do anything. He's already been sitting here for the best part of an hour.

"Wait for us to get there," Louis tells him. Liam can hear him moving around. "We'll drive up as soon as Harry gets back from the shop. I'm so sorry. Liam, I'm so sorry."

Liam hates crying. He knows it's weak, and he should be past this, but he can't. It's so hard. "Haven't you got stuff tonight? You're going out. You said."

"Fuck that," Louis tells him. "I'm putting stuff in a bag. You're more important than any stupid party."

"I'm not."

"Oh god," Louis sounds like he's going to cry himself. "Liam, sweetheart. Please. Don't say that. We're two and a half hours away."

"Sorry," Liam says, automatically.

"No—" Louis lets out a breath. "Look, are you going to be okay for two minutes? I'm going to phone Harry, get him to get his arse back here. I'll call you straight back, I promise. Please don't cry, baby. It's going to be okay. I promise. It's going to be fine. Your parents are going to come round, I swear."

His parents had asked him to leave the house so that they could 'think about what he'd told them'. They'd used words like weird and disgusting and ashamed.

Liam's always had a lot of feelings, but right this second, he wishes he could tear his heart right out of his chest, just so that it would stop hurting, if only for a minute. "All right," he says, softly, and when Louis hangs up, he buries his face in his sleeve and lets himself cry.

Andy's there when Louis and Harry pull up outside in the car, looking awkward and a bit useless in Liam's kitchen. Liam has to send him to answer the door because he's on the phone when they bell goes; his mum is crying down the phone at him, and Liam's having enough trouble trying to figure out what she's saying in amongst the tears without having to worry about whether Louis' going to lamp Andy when he's not looking.

Liam can't think about that. He squeezes his eyes shut. "Mum—" he says. "Mum."

"I don't understand," his mum's saying. "We don't understand, me and your dad. How can there be three of you?"

"There just is," Liam says, over the sob in his throat. He hates crying in front of Andy. He knows what Andy thinks about lads crying, but Andy's been good enough not to say any of that in the hour he's been here. He'd given in and texted him whilst he was waiting for Louis to phone him back, a garbled evryyhgings gon 2 shit can u cumm overrrr plese.

This is why Andy's his best mate; he'd turned up forty minutes later with two portions of chips from the chippy and a four pack of Heineken.

Once he'd seen Liam's face, he'd dumped them all on the counter by the Baby Belling and punched Liam in the arm, before pulling him into a one-armed hug.

Andy still looks shell-shocked, and it's an hour later. He might not understand Liam and Louis and Harry either—and he doesn't, because Liam's had the questions to prove it—but at least he's still here. He's grown up with Liam, and he's grown up with Liam's family, and he doesn't know what to make of it either.

He's still here, though. His best mate.

He feels Louis and Harry

~*~

wakes up to find Ruth in the kitchen talking to Louis

When Liam wakes up, he can hear the soft burr of voices coming from the kitchen. He doesn't open his eyes, staying curled up on the couch instead, Harry's hand in his hair. It's Ruth's voice, and Louis', and Liam can feel himself freezing up all over.

"—I just don't get why," Ruth's saying, over the rumble of the kettle boiling. "You're both—you're in the newspapers. What are you doing here?"

"Because we both love Liam," Louis tells her. "Because it might be weird, and no one might get it but us, but he makes us happy and I think we make him happy too."

"But what are you doing here? You must have a proper posh place in London. What are you doing in my brother's shit flat?"

It's a question Liam asks himself a million times a day.

"Because this is Liam's life, and we love him, and we want to be a part of it. And his life is here, and in this flat, so yeah, we're going to be here. With him."

Ruth's quiet at that, and Liam stays where he is on the couch, his heart thumping. Harry's hand in his hair has stilled.

~*~

Liam is sad and alone; his parents want to try, and they all go for a barbecue at Liam's parents.

Louis comes to find Liam in his mum and dad's kitchen after a while, coming right on in and wrapping his arms around Liam's shoulders, pressing a kiss to Liam's neck. "You've been gone a while," he says, not loosening his hold.

"I'm making more salad," Liam tells him, chopping a tomato into eighths. "You lot have eaten all the rest."

"More salad's always good," Louis agrees, but he doesn't let go of Liam, and Liam's grateful because he feels like he's about to explode.

"Where's Harry?"

"Turning on the charm," Louis says.

"It won't work," Liam says, and he doesn't want his voice to catch, but it does nevertheless. His knife skitters over the tomato and down onto the chopping board. "They won't ever understand."

"It'll take time. To everyone who isn't us, this is probably really weird."

Liam shakes his head. "It's not weird," he says stubbornly. "I love you and I love Harry. I don't understand why that's not easy."

Louis lets out a breath, and drops another kiss to Liam's shoulder. "I think you're probably the most honest person I've ever met," he says, which is a lie. Liam lies to people all the time. Louis and Harry don't even know that Liam failed at the X Factor. One day they'll find out that he's lied to them all this time and that will be the end. He lies about how much he needs them and how much this means to him and how much he's desperate for them to love him like he loves them. He lies all of the time, every day, and one day it'll catch up with him and it'll all be over.

"I'm not."

Louis ignores him. "I see you, and you're always just—whatever you feel, you just—you're the most brilliant person I've ever met. You and Harry, but you differently. God, I'm crap at this. I'm trying to tell you that you're so open, and so honest, and that means you get hurt sometimes. If I could, I'd make sure you never got hurt again."

Liam's chest aches. "Louis—"

"People disappoint us," Louis goes on. "Sometimes people we love, they disappoint us. But that doesn't mean they don't love us."

Liam drops the knife. "I want them to love you like I love you," he says, and he sounds all choked up. He tries not to, but he can't help it. "It's not weird, and it's not wrong. We fit."

"I know," Louis says. He shifts, hooking his chin over Liam's shoulder, and wrapping his arms around Liam's waist. "You're fucking marvellous, Liam Payne. Like, fucking brilliant. Me and Harry are going to keep on telling you and telling you until you just know, okay?"

Liam nods, but he doesn't believe it.

When they get back to Liam's flat after the disastrous barbecue at his mum and dad's, Harry and Louis lead him wordlessly into the bedroom, and pull him into a hug. Harry presses his mouth to the corner of Liam's.

"You're brilliant," he says softly, sliding his hand into Liam's hair. "And when we met your mum and dad, we could see just where you get that from."

"They were rude," Liam stumbles over his words. "They barely spoke to you."

Louis slides his hands around Liam's waist, and under his t-shirt to rest his palms against Liam's stomach. "What do you say to the two guys who are having sex with your son, exactly? It's weird for them."

"I wanted them to love you," Liam admits. Louis keeps stroking his fingertips over Liam's tummy, and Liam wants to stay like this forever, in their arms.

"We'll make them love us," Harry says. "Just you wait. You've not seen our long term attack yet. We're excellent winners-over. We've got, like, plans and strategies."

"Just you wait," Louis agrees, mouthing at the sensitive skin beneath Liam's left ear.

Liam tells his parents that his relationship isn't going awawy and then Louis and Harry take him back home and look after him, but they have to leave to go back to London

Liam has to be by himself and Louis and harry are meeting together with Simon Cowell about singing in a group. Liam doesn't think they're serious.

~*~

Liam has never, ever been prouder of his sister than he is when he watches her say her vows at the front of the room. He stands there in his charcoal suit with his fuchsia buttonhole, being her usher, and he cries as she says I do. He can see Ruth doing the exact same thing from her pride of place as maid of honour, but he can't help but glance back over his shoulder, gaze going straight to Louis and Harry, half way back on the bride's side. They're probably holding hands, and Liam wants that so much it hurts, but he's promised Nicola and his mum and dad that he'll keep it quiet, this threesome he's in and trying to call a relationship.

It isn't like he doesn't know how weird it is, but he wishes the people he loved accepted him like Louis and Harry do.

Harry gives him a little half-wave, and that catches Louis' attention. He winks at Liam, bumping his shoulder into Harry's.

Liam turns back to the front. His heart is full.

Nicola comes over later. She's drunk and plump and beaming and beautiful. "I'm so proud of you, little brother," she says, leaning over to wrap her arm around his shoulders. Her wedding dress is the size of about three people. She looks gorgeous, and like she's had the best day ever. Liam only wanted that from today, so he can't help but consider it a job well done. "And I'm really pleased you're so happy."

Liam goes a bit red, but he risks a glance at Harry and Louis anyway. They're all sitting out of the way of the dancing, because if they can't be openly together then sitting in the corner together and tangling their feet under the table is enough of an alternative to capture their affection.

Louis winks at him, and Harry just grins. They've got matching button holes, the three of them, Louis biting his lip and swapping Liam's fuchsia one for a cream rose once the dinner and the speeches and the photographs were all done. Liam had wanted something that marked them out as a threesome, a trio, even if he couldn't offer them both more.

"Seriously," Nicola says, her arm still round Liam's shoulders. "I've never seen you so happy."

Liam knows he's blushing more. He wants to reach over and curl his fingers into Louis', and have Harry come over and wrap his arms around him. "Well," he says, only a little awkwardly. "I am."

"It's been a good day, hasn't it?" Nicola goes on. She waves her arm in the air. "Everything's gone right."

"It's been perfect," Harry says. "And you look beautiful. Thank you for inviting us."

Nicola leans over and takes Louis' hand. "You are being good to him, aren't you?"

"Nicola," Liam hisses, but he can't do anything; it's her wedding day, she can hold whoever's hand she wants to. "Stop that. Put him down."

"Shush," Nicola says. "I'm talking to your boyfriend. One of your boyfriends." She giggles. "I never thought you'd have more than one boyfriend, Lee. Never thought you'd have a boyfriend, come to that."

"Well, I do, and they're perfect," Liam tells her. "But will you put him down and stop embarrassing me for two seconds?"

"No, but seriously." Nicola lets go of Louis' hand and reaches for Harry's. Harry lets her take it, and flushes in what Liam can only think of as a ridiculously cute kind of a way. "This is my little brother," she says, not letting go of Harry's hand. "Like—me and Ruth are really protective of him. Cos he's our little brother. And it's like you are too. Not like Andy."

"Nicola," Liam warns.

"Seriously. I'm trying to tell you something, so shush, Liam." She shakes her head, and turns her attention back to Louis and Harry. "If you hurt him, either of you, then I will personally hunt you down and kill you, and Ruth will help me."

Liam isn't so sure of that, since Ruth is still not quite on board with the Liam-has-two-boyfriends part of proceedings. This is still the most embarrassing experience he can quite remember, so he leaves the Ruth part of things to one side for now.

"You don’t need to worry," Louis says, shooting a glance at Liam. "We're the last people you need to worry about when it comes to Liam. I'm pretty sure we're committed to making sure everybody in the world realises how great Liam is."

"Yeah," Harry echoes. "We think he's brilliant, and we love him."

Liam knows he's doing his best impression of a bright red, on fire tomato but he can't look up. If he looks up he'll do something stupid like kiss both of them, and he'd promised. He'd promised.

"Do you three want to dance?" Nicola says suddenly.

Liam looks up. "With you?"

"Well, I suppose. I just meant—I meant do you three want to dance, together."

Liam looks over at the dance floor. "But everybody will know," he says. "I promised you and Mum and Dad."

Nicola raises her shoulders in an inelegant shrug. "I haven't seen you this happy, like, ever. It's like—I don't think it's very nice of us to be like, come to my wedding, but pretend you're not totally in love for the sake of Auntie Dora and all the cousins and the neighbours or whatever. So I think maybe that you should dance. All three of you."

"But Mum and Dad—"

"Leave them to me," Nicola says. "Anyway, whose wedding is this? It's bloody mine, so you three, get up there and do something romantic for me, all right?" She kisses the top of Liam's head. "Go on, scram. I'm going to find Ed and get him to dance with me too. We'll make a right show of it, us Paynes on that dance floor. Where's Ruth?"

"You're not a Payne anymore, Nic."

"Once a Payne, always a Payne," Nicola tells him, winking at Louis and Harry. "Go on. Up you go." Liam watches as she threads her way through the tables and her wedding guests in pursuit of her new—and quite remarkably drunk—husband.

"Well," Louis says. He smiles at Liam. "What do you want to do?"

Liam smiles at that. "I want to do what I always want to do. Be with you guys."

Harry blinks at that, looking away. "God, " he says. "Fuck, stop making me cry."

"So," Simon Cowell says, when all five of them are in his office, sitting in deceptively low cushioned chairs in front of his desk, "What have you got to say for yourselves."

"This is Liam Payne," Louis says, pointing at Liam, "and he's fantastic. And we think we want to record as a band—"

"I know who Liam Payne is." Simon cuts him off, sitting back in his chair, tapping his pen against the arm. "Long time, no see, Liam."

Liam can't bear to look to either side of him. "I didn't think you'd remember me."

"I'm good with names and faces," Simon says. "It's part of what got me to where I am now. That, and I looked you up."

"What's he mean?" Louis hisses, kicking Liam in the ankle.

Liam shakes his head, and doesn't say anything. This is what the end feels like: this. So close to his dreams, and yet so endlessly far away.

"Didn't I tell you to come back when you'd grown up a bit? Done your GCSEs?"

Liam juts his chin out. "I couldn't afford to," he says. "I needed to work."

"I literally have no idea what's going on right now," Niall says, from Liam's other side.

"I auditioned for the X Factor," Liam sits on his hands. "Two years before you did, when I was fourteen. I went to Barbados with Simon. I didn't get through."

There is no silence like a horrified, wounded silence, and Liam can read this one like a book.

"God," Niall says.

"Shit," Louis breathes, next to him. When Liam looks, Harry just looks horrified. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Liam draws his shoulders up. "Dunno," he says. "Didn't want to tell you I'd failed where you'd all passed. Didn't make any difference anyway, not back then. Then it got too late to tell you. I didn't think Simon would remember me."

"I remembered you," Simon says. He's still tapping his pen against the arm of his chair.

AND THEN: happy ending of course.

[redheadspark]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I really like the way you write :)) May I request spring cottage with oliver wood please 🍀💗

A/N - YES! I love this one for Oliver, it very cute! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Fulfilled

Summary - Oliver promises you a home rigt after the Second Wizard War, and he intends to keep it

Warnings - Only fluff for Oliver :)

"Come on, Oli. Where are we going?"

"Can't tell ya, luv. It'll ruin my surprise."

You held his hand and followed him up a small trail through the grassy field, right outside Ottery St Catchpole. You've been in that town ebfore plenty of times, mostly to visit the magical families that lived there: The Lovegoods, The Diggorys and The Weasleys. Ever since the Second Wiazrd War, you and Oliver would visit constantly to not just kepe your friendhsip alive, but to check up on them. The war took a toll on everyone, and lives were loss in the process.

You and Oliver survived together, a miracle in itself.

You both got married right after the war, thinking there was no time like the present to be together since you both nearly died that night at Hogwarts when you went to fight. Death was already all around you for hours in end, and that night felt too long and dreadful for you to endure alone. Oliver felt it too, and after you both finally made it home to Hogsmeads, or whatever was left of your little flat above Zonko's Shop, you both shared a shower to wash away the blood and pain that was cake along your skin and within your bones.

"Marry me," Oliver pleaded against your lips as you two kissed under the showerhead that was splattering you with water, you both clinging onto each other with hopes of never letting the other go ever again.

"You know I will," You replied back as he then kissed him deeply, letting the wat run cold along your skin.

It's been three years of marriage and building your new life together, and those three years have been nothing but bliss and growth for both Oliver and yourself.

"Come on, Oliver! Why are we back in this neighborhood?" You had, knowing fully well Oliver was not going to tell you instantly and your patience was going to be thinned very soon.

"Ah, here we are!"

Down a hill, nestled near a small riverbed that would lead back to the muggle town where you and Olvier apparated, there was a small little cottage that was perched in front of some tall birch trees and with a field of wildflowers along the front near the dusty path. It was very small, just one front door was seen and two windows in the front on the first floor and one on the second floor, a stone chimney was poking out from the sides with vines along the corner of the cottage, slinging to the walls as it descending into the earth.

"Do ya like it?" Oliver asked you as he was standing a bit behind you, waiting for your answer as you were scanning the small but cute house.

"The cottage? It's lovely, Oli. But I don't understand....does someone live here?" You asked turning around at him and seeing him give you a knowing look. You knew that look very well, dating Oliver Wood for several years and flying with him on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team gave you enough time to read his mannerisms and facial expressions. So you knew when he was angry, contemplating, or simply having an idea, from just a simple look. This was one of those times.

"Aye, someone does," he replied, taking in a long breath. It looked like he was trying to psych himself up for the next thing he was about to tell you. What he did say though, shocked you:

"We do,"

You thought you heard him wrong, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you and making you think you heard something completely different from him. Yet those two words, so short and meaningless, shook your core as your eyes went wide and your stance was stiff as aboard.

"Oliver?" You asked his name, blinking a few times. Oliver simply reached into his jacket pocket, taking out an envelope that seemed thick and well-used as he held it in both of his hands.

"Do you remember the promise I made ya? Back when we were plannin' our wedding" He asked, you slowly nodding your head as he took a few steps over you, "I told ya I would get us a home to live in, to grow old in, and to maybe in the future...when we're both ready....raise our kids in. I intended to make sure I followed through with my promise, luv."

"You....you got us this house?" You asked in a gasp, Oliver clearing his throat as he handed you the envelope. You took out the paperwork rapidly, reading over to see it was a deed to the home and all the signatures were there in place, apart from yours next to Oliver's that was already inked on the paper.

"It's not final until ya signed it, since I want us to be equal in this decision and all," He explained as he was watching your eyes dart back and forth while you were reading the fine print, "Look, it's a bit of a fiver upper. But the Weasleys and Lovegoods volunteered coming to help us on the weekends, Luna Lovegood wants us to put in a garden for the rabbits since apparently, they're amazin' pets. My Da wants to help too, but if you don't wanna do it then we don't have--"

You silenced him with a deep and enduring kiss, letting the deed fall to the grassy floor as Oliver wrapped his arms around you.

Oliver did a lot of crazy things in the past, before and after you got together. He was reckless at times and his choices would sometimes have you scratch your head. However, his heart was always in the right place. You loved his heart, how it was molding around yours in no time and was never willing to release you. When he fought for something, he fought hard. When he cried, he wept.

Most importantly, when he loved you, he loved you with all of him.

You pulled away from the kiss and stared at him directly into his brown eyes which were in shock from the kiss you planted on his lips.

"I never thought I could love you any more than I do now," You said with a gasp, seeing his smile come back on his face, "This might be the most reckless decision you have ever met since we got married, but it's the most romantic too."

"Now I know where the bar has been raised, eh?" he asked in a coy tone, you laughing as he held you close and kissed your cheeks.

"Of course, and you have fulfilled your promise and more," You reassure him in his ear while you two hug in front of your new home

One month later, long days of construction and repairs later, you both stepped foot into your new home holding hands and a bright future promise. The first thing you did was invited your new neighbors and old friends for a large dinner together. It was a great night filled with laughs and shared memories, tender moments of remembering and recognizing those you lost, and hopes for the future that was yet to come.

When Weasleys, Lovegoods, and Diggorys all left for the night, you and Oliver turned in and curled up together in your bed at your new cottage, letting the window stay open to hear the frogs croak through the night and have your dreams be filled with wonder and happiness.

The End.

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[wrens-versus-the-world]

A small sneak peak into what I've been working on

Foreword:

I have no knowledge of nursing/ medicine, so any info in this fic may not be accurate (aka don't try this at home kids lol).

also! If you're feeling so kind please message me and lmk if i need to fix something (chances are i'll do it)

Anywho, onto the story!!!

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One good thing about working late was that your mind tends to not fully comprehend the death of your patient due to pure exhaustion.

I haven't been working for the hospital as long as some of the other nurses here, but I think I've begun to get the hang of it. I've also been following the rules that I learned from my senior in my med school.

The rules are as follows:

Rule one: Never, and I mean never anger your fellow nurses. Doctors are fine, its the nurses who know what to do anyway.

Rule two: Always make sure to get rid of the expired blood! It'll take up space and it only takes one inexperienced nurse to lead to a disaster.

Rule three: If you work the night shift, after a while you may hear your name whispered as though very close to your ear. Whatever you do, do not follow the voices.

it was the third rule that my senior, Pei Xui, always repeated to us. Us being me and my college roommate, Jian Lan. We were like two peas in a pod, we went to two different high schools. But in our first college class calculus 1001, the both of us fresh out of high school, and both of us struggling, we quickly became good friends.

I digress, Pei Xui always told us to ignore anything strange we heard when we went to intern at hospitals. I never really questioned it, especially because his family, namely his little uncle Pei Ming, is a famous doctor who owns many hospitals. However after the hospital that Pei Xui interned at--the one he was supposed to take over two years from then, when he would have graduated--got shut down. For medical malpractice no less.

Even now, four years later, a nurse. I still don't question it. because whether or not he participated in the incident at that hospital or not, he was right.

Working the night shift at the hospital you begin to realize that you do hear someone, or something, calling your name. And Pei Xui was right, you don't follow it. You ignore it, and continue on with the night.

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Word count: 363

I am trying to increase my vocabulary, and change my writing style some. So, in that spirit I have decided to write this!

I really like all of the characters in TGCF (heaven's official blessing), so I am going to try to include a lot of them here.

Although I may not get to everyone, so if you really were hoping to have someone mentioned and you don't see them, sorry!

On another note, I am going to try to keep them 'cannon,' or as cannon as they can be with this not being the original.

So, since Pei Xui got banished from the heavenly realm, Pei Xui gets bye-byed from his job here too :D

(although this wont stay true for the entire story, so don't count on it)

[translucent-at-best]

Scatter-brained...

I told myself I'd start back on dating apps on April 13th. I've also told three friends. I'm like... 50% ready and 50% regretting mentioning it to them because I know they'll hold me accountable (which is, of course, why I told them in the first place). Welp. We gon' see.

Bought myself a vacuum mop combo cleaner that got delivered today and I'm irrationally excited to use it. This feels very 30s of me. I also made myself an Amazon wishlist of things I want to get for my apartment and am going to buy myself something off it every month. Next month, I'm looking to get a stool for my shower (because I've had one too many close calls standing up and masturbating with my shower head). Shit, maybe I'll get two things since it'll be my birthday month. We'll see.

I really live in LA. I was driving on the freeway over the weekend, on the way to visit a friend, and it was warm enough to roll my windows down. It's March. And this is my reality because I live in LA now and not the east coast city I grew up in. I wanted to do this shit and I did it. And I've built community out here. That thought hit me hard the other day. Thank you, God. Thank you, me.

I need a new job and I don't want one doing what I went to school for. Fuck. I'm over having a front row seat just to watch all the ways this world and this government are fucking these kids up every chance they get.

I said I was going to schedule and go to all my doctor's appointments this year. So far, I've had two appointments and I've got more scheduled. I said I was going to travel and see my family more this year. So far, I've gone home for my uncle's funeral, I'm going to Hawaii with my family next week, and in May, I'm traveling to NM for my cousin's college graduation. I said I was going to join a gym and I did that. I said I was going to start taking more walks and I've been doing that. I said I was going to get my retirement accounts in order and I've done that. I said I was going to get a travel credit card and I did that too.

I trick myself into thinking that I'm not making any progress on my goals just because they're not all accomplished right now today and that's not fair to me. I be doing shit.

I miss watching it grow from soft to hard. I miss a lot of things, to be honest.

These stores really just up and stopped selling plus sizes without a word about it. Now it's, "not in store, but we have them online." Fuck good is it doing me there? Especially when there's no uniformity in sizing. Ugh, they make my ass itch. I'm trying to shop for vacation clothes and this shit is blowing me.

Listen... I ain't never had any interest in dating outside of my race, but uh... if I get to Hawaii and a tall and sturdy, bearded Samoan get to winking at me I'm gonna need y'all to mind your business, hear?

This is long as shit, ain't it? I don't know why I have it in my mind that these Scatter-brained posts have to have at least ten bullet points. Who is that rule for? I don't even know when I came up with it. I can literally not do it at any point, but for some reason...

[scorpio-marionette]

One Word

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: angst, yearning, second chances, friends to lovers, one bed

A/N: I know I'm missing a couple days, but I knew what I wanted to do for this prompt. I'm still thinking about the others.

Part of @toomanystoriessolittletime 's December Writing Challenge

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"YES!!!"

You and Marcus abruptly come to a stop as a woman suddenly screams out in excitement. Looking over at the old soccer field the two of you used to play on, you see a group of people holding marque lights that spell Marry Me. A couple stands in front of them in a gleeful embrace. Clearly there was a proposal and she said yes. Coming down from the shock, your nerves begin to kick in. You had always wanted Marcus to propose to you, but he ended up proposing to two other women instead. One he actually tried to make a life with. The other leaving him abruptly for another. Now he's home from DC for Christmas and your heart is still his for the taking. The only reason you guys had been on this walk is because Marcus had wanted to catch up without his mother being privy to the conversation. You had agreed selfishly to get some alone time with him. The conversation had been light and fun. Now you dread where it may go.

You cautiously take a peek at Marcus. His eyes linger longingly on the happy couple. All he had always wanted to have a family of his own. To have a wife that loves him and children to care for. You know this. You've known this since you were fifteen. You had wanted to be the one to fill the role since you were eighteen, but he went off to college first. He met a bombshell of a beauty. Brought her home for the holidays. Did the cliché Christmas proposal, and she said yes. You were asked to be a bridesmaid. You watched them get married. You comforted him through his wife's infidelity and refusal to have kids. You watched him grow from it. Hopeful again that he'll see you. Then another beautiful woman came along. Strong and independent. An agent who understands his work. She chose him and then after he left for DC, she left him. You're ashamed to admit that you were hopeful again, but even you recognize that the hope has dimmed over the years. If Marcus was attracted to you, he would've said something. That's who he is. If he hasn't said anything by now, then you're just a little sister to him.

"Have you ever wanted that?" Marcus asks quietly. As if scared to break the silence.

"A proposal like that or to just be proposed to?"

"To get married," Marcus clarifies. "We both know I wanted to, but what about you? I don't think I've ever asked."

You blush like a fire has broken out across your skin. The man you're in love with asking if you've ever wanted to get married. Surely whatever gods are out there are laughing at you.

"Oh yeah," you try to say casually. "Had a guy in mind and everything."

This peaks his interest. "Who did you want to marry?"

Of course you would say too much. You mentally facepalm at your stupidity and quickly search your brain for a believable lie. It'll be hard to sell though, what with Marcus' FBI training.

"It-it doesn't really matter who it was, Marcus," you claim. "He was never interested in me."

Marcus quirks up an eyebrow at this. A guy wasn't interested in you? Who wouldn't be interested in you? You're intelligent, creative, kind, and absolutely gorgeous. How could he not see that? He must have been blind. For the moment Marcus let's the conversation go, giving you room to breathe a silent sigh of relief. He doesn't miss how your shoulders sag though. Had you wanted him to keep asking? The two of you continue your walk around town. Concluding with Marcus taking you home. He pulls you into his embrace, bringing you into his comforting warmth. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love the way you feel against him. Your body fits perfectly with his and you have been a constant in his life for many years. He's so happy to have you in his life. With one final good night, he watches you retreat into the safety of your home and returns to his parents.

~

With the morning sun, Marcus rises before the rest of his family. He slips down stairs to make coffee in the kitchen. With a fresh brew in the pot and a cup of americano, he sits in the bay window to watch the sun rise. He thinks of you and what you said last night. Still curious as to the mystery man you had wanted to marry. After an hour and a half, his mother comes down for some morning tea. She greets her son with a quick hug before placing the kettle on the stove. With curiosity eating away at his mind, Marcus asks his mother who it was you wanted to marry. Startled by the question, she nearly drops her chosen mug. She chuckles to herself

"Marcus, sweetheart, she had wanted to marry you."

Now it's Marcus' turn to choke on his coffee. There's no way you had wanted to marry him-

"And before you go telling yourself that there's no way, let's keep in mind that this girl has seen just about everything when it comes to you. She was your first crush until your friends convinced you it was weird. They used to think the two of you were siblings. She was your date to the prom when the girl you had asked turned you down. She was a bridesmaid at your wedding for Pete's sake. She even saw you off when you went to DC to live with what's her name, right before she broke off the engagement. That girl knows you and still loves you, so don't waste it."

Marcus is absolutely stunned by what his mother has said. He' always known you've been there for him, but he never realized for how mush of it. Flashes of memories come to him in a tidal wave. The two of you on joint family vacations. You being there when he started his band. Designating yourself as their first groupie. You patching up his knee when he skinned it. Him chasing off bullies who made fun of you. One memory of you at his wedding in the bridesmaid gown suddenly becomes you in the bride's gown. A veil covering your face as you make your way to him. Eager to be wedded. To kiss the woman he loves...

Wait, what?

It hits him like a ton of bricks. He loves you. He always has apparently. He just couldn't see it because- Well, there isn't a really good excuse. He never saw you the way you saw him. In the way you deserve to be seen. If anything, he hasn't seen you at all. He's taken your presence in his life for granted. He knows he has to make it up to you. It's not fair that you've been pining after him and all he's given is his failed love experiences. You deserve more from him than that. With this new information, Marcus gets up from his seat. He thanks his mother with a kiss on the cheek and rushes back up to his room. He wants to plan something, but he's trying to ignore his base instinct. His immediate response of an extravagant dinner date. This you we're talking about, not someone new. You know him better than anyone. He could take you to the Christmas market that gets set up every year, but that’s a bit of a cliché, and it'd be just his luck he'd sneak off to buy you something, only for you to think he's flirting with someone else. No, he needs to do some confirming. He needs it to be just the two of you. To make sure you truly want him and that his own heart had fallen for you.

~

A couple days pass with little contact from Marcus. It's not that you guys had plans made. You're just a little worried he's closing off emotionally. Maybe he ran into his ex-wife? She still lives nearby so that wouldn't be a surprise. He has been texting you though. Confirming your availability. Asking for any changes in food preferences. You're curious as to why he's asking you all of this when there's a knock at your door. Opening it you find a chipper Marcus with a cup of peppermint coffee. A holiday favorite of yours. He hands it to you as you let him into your childhood home, only for him to then abruptly walk further in to get to the second floor. You rush to catch up with him as he enters your room. You're about to ask him what he's doing when you see him pull your small suit case out from under your bed. He unzips it and flips it open, turning to you with a pointed look.

"You and I are going on a little Christmas trip," Marcus states. "We'll be back before Christmas Eve, so no one is worried about us missing anything."

"Um, okay, but why?"

"What? I can't spend time with my favorite person in the whole world?"

You're sure you turn bright red at Marcus' question. Especially if his smirk is anything to go by. Having no argument to present, you saddle up next to Marcus and begin packing. He helps to fold your clothes until you start pulling out your underwear. He seems taken aback by your handing him of your panties, but you trust him to not be crude about it. Besides, it's not like it's anything he hasn't seen before. After all, when you were in high school and Marcus was between girlfriends, the two of you would drive out to the lake with nothing but towels and the clothes you had on. Back then you insisted on wearing nothing but lace underwear, which was transparent, and cupless lace bras. Not much was really left to his imagination. You might as well had gone skinny dipping.

Once packed and your mental list checked over, you haul your bags to the car and get in. Marcus, ever the gentleman, opens your door for you before running around to his seat. You both comfy because it's going to be a bit of a drive before you arrive.

~

An hour or so has passed since you've start on your little journey with Marcus. Your music plays softly through the stereo. The man you've loved for what feels like a lifetime is gently holding your hand over the center console. His thumb smooths the skin across your knuckles. You could stay in this moment forever if time and Marcus would let you. To able to just be with him. A moment of togetherness without really needing to be somewhere or meet someone. You can't help but think this is the closest to living a dream as you'll get.

"Are you going to stay in there forever?" Marcus jokes about your daydreaming. Something you've always done.

"How long is forever?" You question.

"... you tell me. "

Marcus doesn’t usually hesitate when he answers a question. He can be far too sure that he knows the answer sometimes. You look at him as he drives. His profile has always been beautiful to you. The slope of his nose. The strength in his jaw and neck. The curl of his hair at the nape of his neck. He tries so hard to contain his curls even though they make him that much more attractive.

He can feel the burn of your gaze in him. It makes it so much harder to not blurt out how he feels or what he wants to ask. To think he's usually so much more confident than this. Only you can make him this nervous. Trying to ignore the sharpness of your gaze, he pulls off the highway to your exit. The hotel he picked is quint. Fantastic decor for not a lot of money and decent travel times to you favorite amusement park. The two of you will be alone for four days a you hang out together. Luckily, even after all this time, Marcus is still a passholder. Entering the lobby, the two of you stop by the desk to check in. With your keys and general instructions, you find your room. Stepping inside makes you almost instantly concerned. There's only one bed. Surely there's been a mistake. You move to approach the room's phone when Marcus stops you.

"What's wrong?"

"There's only one bed." You gesture to it as if he can't see it.

"Yeah, I they had a deal on single bed rooms," he explains nonchalantly. "We're both adults. We can share a bed."

Is the man trying to kill you?

First he asks if you want to get married. Calls you his favorite person. Takes you on an impromptu mini vacation. Now he wants to share a bed with you? You might just combust where you stand. Ignoring the way you gape at him, Marcus takes your suitcase to set up on your side of the bed. His own mirroring yours. He takes out toiletries. Some fresh clothing. Just taking his time as you absorb what he just said. He asks if you need the bathroom for anything but you don't need it at the moment, so he tells you he's going to take a shower. You sit next to your suitcase. It's only for four days and nights. You can survive this... right?

To distract yourself, you start gathering what you need for a shower before stowing away the suitcases. You turn on the TV to see if there's any news you guys missed on the drive over. About half an hour passes before the bathroom door opens and a shirtless Marcus walks out. All he has is a towel wrapped round his narrow hips. Water slowly dripping down the length of his torso. His hair his wet, pushed away from his face, and yet curls wildly at the back of his head. He saunters over to his case and pulls it out again. You swear he's taking his time to torment you. He wants you to look at him.

"Sorry," he says bashfully. "Forgot my boxers."

He looks down at your clothes.

"If you're going to shower, put on something nice after. I'm taking you to dinner."

With that, he returns to the steamy bathroom. After he closes the door, Marcus takes a deep breath. The entire time he put on that charade he could feel your eyes. When he looked at you to tell you he was taking you out, it was impossible to miss how blown out your pupils were. He'd be lying if he said it didn't inflate his ego. He likes the idea of you finding him attractive, but how deep does that attraction go? And does he feel the same?

~

Once again, back in the car, you and Marcus head out for dinner. Not knowing where you're going, you put on one of the dresses you assume Marcus had slipped into your case. It's a simple red sweater dress paired with rose patterned stocking to keep your legs warm and a pair of booties. A soft, warm smile crossed his face when he saw what you chose. He even took your hands in his and twirled you around the room a little so he could get a good look at you. Now you sit in comfortable silence as you pull up to the restaurant. Marcus comes around to open your door for you before wrapping your hand around his bicep. You always knew Marcus was strong, but feeling his muscle in you hand has your brain shorting out. His arm is firm and large though he's barely flexing it.

There's a bit of a line for the hostess desk, so you enjoy your time on Marcus' arm. You decide to do a little people watching when the woman from the couple in front of you peeks behind her. You instantly recognize Marcus' ex-wife. She turns around fully with an awful smirk on her face.

"Well, fancy seeing you two here," she greets snidely.

"Hello Jacqueline. Date night for you?" Marcus asks, trying to cordial with her.

"Anniversery, actually," she mocks. "What about you two?"

Before you can pipe in Marcus says "date night for us."

Jacqueline's eyes slide over to you as you hold yourself steadfast. She hums as if appraising you. Like her opinion still matters to her ex-husband.

"I guess it's your night at the ball, Cinderella," she says condisendingly. "You always did want Marcus to yourself. Have a good night."

You stare her down as she turns back around to her partner, whatever they are to each other. Your body suddenly droops as the tension gives and you head dips low, practically on Marcus' chest. You suddenly realize that you're not just on his arm anymore. The arm you had been clinging to is now wrapped around your waist and has hauled you to him. Your left hand rests on his broad shoulder while your right lingers on his chest, right over his heart. You raise your head to look at him and he's looking at you with a dreamy gaze. You half expected him to be staring at his ex. He had married her after all. But no, he's giving you his attention. You give him a soft smile. His pupils dilate as his sight drops down to your lips.

~

Despite of running into Jacqueline, dinner goes off without a hitch. You had a gorgeous waitress that was very obviously into Marcus, but he only paid attention to you. She got so disgruntled at not gaining his attention that she ended up switching with another for the rest the meal. When you went to leave, Marcus took your hand and very dramatically kissed the back of it as he pulled you up from you seat and led you out the door. Ever the gentleman, he helped you into the car before getting in and driving away.

Back in your hotel room now, you kick off your heels and begin slipping off your stockings.

"We should talk about it, you know."

You look up at Marcus. "About what?"

"What Jacqueline said," he tells you.

You sigh quietly. "She never liked me, Marcus. Of course she was say something like that."

"That's true, she would," he agrees. "But my mom said something similar too."

You pale at the information. Only your mothers knew how you felt about Marcus. They were ecstatic to hear how you felt and comforted you at the devistation of him choosing another. Why would Mrs. Pike let him know now?

"Is it true?"

"What?" You decide to play dumb.

"That you wanted me. That you've wanted me this whole time."

You audibly gulp. Looking everywhere but his face. "I don't know what you're-"

"You're lying."

Marcus takes your face in his hands. He makes you look at him. He isn't angry or disgusted. He's silently pleading for you to admit it because what you don't know is that he's in love with you. Even he doesn't realize how in love he is. He's loved you since he was eight years old. His problem is that he let the wrong people influence him over the years. Now he wants to know if he has the chance to make it right. To properly love the woman who's always been with him. His first love.

"Yes"

All it takes is one word.