#she would be way cooler as the one cool aunt everyone loves

[uwu-scraptrappy]

I could never ship logan and eleanor sorry 2 the people that do. first of all they r way funnier as cool lesbian girl boss and her loser bicurious coworker bestie. second of all she's referred to as logan's sister twice in the movie, once by logan himself. third of all I don't think that woman is capable of being attracted to men.

[corroded-hellfire]

Just a Spark - Eddie Munson x Reader

A Collaboration with my beloved kindred spirit @munson-blurbs🤍

Summary: Eddie takes his sons to watch fireworks at Lover's Lake for the Fourth of July. But when he notices you there with some friends, including some male friends, he can't help but be jealous.

Note: Thank you to my dearest @joejoequinnquinn for loving jealous!eddie as much as I do and for coming up with this lovely idea! I still find it funny that it's a Fourth of July fic and you do not live in the US, lol. I hope you all enjoy and happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans 💙

Warnings: older!eddie, dad!eddie, babysitter!reader, eddie being jealous hehe

Words: 3.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

It wasn’t often that Hawkins held activities that appealed to the whole town. The haunted houses around Halloween only appealed to the teenagers, the winter wonderlands at Christmas only mattered to young children, and the Thanksgiving Parade was something that everyone swears they got dragged along to against their will. Fourth of July in Hawkins was the one day a year that could be counted on to bring people of all ages out to Lover’s Lake for sunshine in the afternoon and fireworks at night. 

Kids would splash and swim together in the shallow area of the lake while their parents watched from picnic blankets spread out not too far away. Teens and college students would come with their friends, the college kids drinking beer out in the open while the teenagers had to hide sips behind a tree or behind a friend’s back. 

It was a tradition in the Munson household to grill up some hamburgers and bring them down to eat at the lake while they watched the fireworks. This particular year things seem to be off-track, though. Brittany had left the house early in the afternoon to run a few errands and pick up some charcoal for the grill so that Eddie could cook the hamburgers. After being gone far too long for just saying she was heading to a few stores, the phone rings and Brittany gives Eddie some sob story about how she ran into her sister who’s having a crisis and she needs to stay with her for a while. Eddie just sighed as he hung up, thinking to himself that at least Brittany wasn’t dumb enough to say it had something to do with work when banks are closed because it’s a national holiday. The only problem—because going out with his boys without his wife was certainly not a problem—he ran into now was that he didn’t have time to run out and get charcoal and make the burgers before they were going to leave for the lake. 

Improvising, Eddie swings through a Burger King drive-through on the way, making sure the three of them would still keep their tradition intact as much as possible. The boys don’t seem to mind the differences between this year and last, maybe just glad to have a chance to hang out with their dad while they did something as cool as watch fireworks. 

Eddie pulls his truck into the already-crowded parking lot and grabs the bag of fast food. As he and the boys get out, people walk by carrying coolers, picnic baskets, and a few types of inner tubes to use in the water. There are tons of people there—which Eddie expected. He takes Luke’s hand into his own and instructs Ryan to grab onto Luke’s other so they don’t lose anyone. 

“Eddie!” A familiar voice calls out and has Eddie whipping around to spot its owner. He quickly sees the Sinclairs; Lucas is waving with his left hand to get Eddie’s attention, with Tiffany on his right hip. 

Eddie nudges the boys. “Look who’s here!” Their eyes widen when they notice Uncle Lucas—who Eddie swears is his younger son’s namesake and certainly isn’t Luke Skywalker—along with Aunt Max and their baby. They practically pull Eddie across the lot to them. 

Clapping Lucas’s hand and pulling him in for a modified bro-hug so he doesn’t crash into Tiffany, Eddie offers his long-time friend a grin. “How have you guys been?” he asks as he gives Max a hug. 

“Good. Tired.” Max says with a laugh. “Tiffany slept through the night for about three days before she started teething.”

“Aww, poor thing,” Eddie coos, chuckling when Tiffany proves her mother’s point by grabbing Eddie’s finger and gnawing on it. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t last as long as it seems,” he reassures the new parents. 

“We’re just headed out,” Lucas explains, kissing his daughter’s cheek. “It’s this little lady’s bedtime, and we’ve gotta get home before the fireworks start.”

“We have no idea how she’ll react to them, and we’re not about to conduct that experiment in public,” Max chimes in, making Eddie laugh again. “But we’ll see you at Ryan’s birthday party next week!”

The Munsons and Sinclairs part with goodbyes and more hugs before Eddie and the boys head towards the lake. 

“I wanna sit near the water!” Luke insists, and Eddie winces at his high-pitched whine. 

“Think we might get a better view of the fireworks if we sit up a little higher.” It’s the truth; plus, he won’t have to worry about Luke flinging himself into the cesspool that Hawkins calls a lake. 

They find a shady spot right under a tree, and Eddie lays out three beach towels so they won’t have to sit in the dirt. He passes out the parchment-wrapped burgers and little bags of fries and sits back with a sigh. This is what he’d always wanted—family traditions with his boys. If only…

“Has anyone seen my sunscreen?”

Eddie freezes mid-bite, only remembering that he has a burger in his hand when his arm starts to ache from being in one position too long. He chews and swallows as though nothing happened, but his mind is racing. 

It can’t be, he thinks. He’s almost certain that this is all in his imagination—God knows he can’t get you out of his head—until he hears someone say your name. 

Just one look, Eddie convinces himself. A quick peek so I can see that it’s not actually her; just someone who sounds like her and has the same name…

His stomach flip-flops when he glances over and sees you in a low-cut red tank top and cutoff denim shorts. Oh, shit, it’s her. And she looks really, really good. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. He wishes he had a six-pack; a cold beer can always calm his jangled nerves. Okay, I can’t let the boys see. Once that happens, she’ll come over here and—

Eddie’s anxious thought is disrupted by the sight of one of the three guys you’re with applying sunscreen to the back of your neck. He’s got long, light brown hair—though not as long or luscious as his own, Eddie notes wryly. 

Long Hair spends far too much time massaging the lotion into your skin. Calm down, Buffalo Bill. She doesn’t need that much sun protection. 

The only other girl there plucks the lotion bottle from Long Hair’s hands, much to Eddie’s relief, and Eddie turns his attention back to his boys. “You guys ready for the fireworks?” He tries to keep the enthusiasm in his voice. “Sun’s setting, so they’ll be starting soon.”

Ryan nods, chewing on a fry. “I wonder what colors they’ll have,” he muses. 

“Well, I wonder what would happen if I sat on a firework!” Luke pipes up with a mouthful of burger. “Like, would I fly into the sky? Or would it blow up in my butt?”

Eddie laughs loudly. “My money’s on the second one, little man.”

Your laughter floats over to Eddie on the breeze blowing off of the lake. He mentally berates himself, thinking of how he should be enjoying this family tradition with his boys and not be wondering if any of those guys you’re with are your boyfriend or if you’re sleeping with any of them or if…

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” Eddie looks up at Ryan’s worried face and frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Your lip,” Ryan says, pointing at the bottom half of his father’s face. “You were chewing on it, and it started bleeding.”

“Silly me,” Eddie says with a forced chuckle. He grabs one of the napkins from the Burger King bag and dabs at his lower lip. Luke has shifted to watch a game of volleyball happening on a court that someone set up and it gives Eddie the opportunity to scoot closer between his boys, so his back is to you and your friends. Maybe now he’ll be able to focus. 

It works for a while. The three of them finish their burgers and Luke is immediately complaining that he’s still hungry. Eddie tells the five-year-old he has to wait and tries to play a game with them to distract his youngest son from his rumbling tummy before the fireworks start. 

“Simon says put your hands on your head. Simon says give your brother a high five,” Eddie instructs as the boys eagerly await the next command. “Simon says stand up. Sit back down. Ah! I didn’t say ‘Simon says!’”

“I win!” Ryan cheers as Luke sprawls out on his beach towel with a groan. The familiar twinkling tune of an ice cream truck approaching has him bolting up, though. 

“Ice cream?” Luke stands up and balances on his tippy toes to get a better view at the parking lot. When his suspicions are confirmed, he hops up and down. “Ice cream! Daddy, can we get some? Pleeeeease?”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says as if it’s a hardship for him to indulge his boys when in reality he’d already planned on getting ice cream for them at some point tonight. “Get me some too, okay?”

“Cookies and cream?” Ryan asks, citing his dad’s favorite flavor.

“Atta boy,” Eddie says, handing him a ten-dollar bill. Luke starts to walk away and towards the truck, but Eddie stops him with an, “ah-ah-ah. It’s crowded here. I don’t want you to lose each other so hold your brother’s hand.” When Luke opens his mouth to respond, a frown creasing his forehead and his nose wrinkling up, Eddie halts the whining before it even happens. “Hold your brother’s hand.”

“Fine,” Luke huffs and offers his hand to Ryan in the most limp, unenthusiastic manner possible. 

The two walk off and Eddie adjusts his position so he can keep an eye on his sons as they snake their way through the crowd and over to the ice cream truck that already has a line of a few kids in front of it. But from this new angle, Eddie can also see you out of the corner of his eye. A breath rushes out of him as if he’d been holding it since his eyes were last on you. Seeing you makes Eddie calmer and more tense at the same time. As always, your presence brings him comfort and happiness. But you’re with a bunch of guys your own age and the jealousy monster is rearing its ugly head like nobody’s business. Eddie looks down at his lap and his eye catches on his wedding ring, glinting in the fading sun.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Munson,” Eddie mumbles to himself. 

Unable to not look in your direction—I swear to God she’s got something magnetic about her, he thinks—Eddie sees you gazing out over the lake. You raise your hand above your eyes to shield them from the bright, falling sun and look around the whole area where people have settled in to have fun. Eddie’s just about to look away, not wanting to risk being caught staring at you if you spot him, when he sees one of your guy friends walking over to you. It’s not Long Hair from before. This guy is shorter and as muscly as the other guy was scrawny. Eddie can hear him calling your name, but you must be too caught up in your thoughts to hear him. Muscles reaches out and touches your arm to get your attention. As if seeing him just touching you isn’t bad enough, Eddie watches as you turn around to face Muscles, but the guy still doesn’t take his hand off of you. The tanned, muscular hand is slowly moving down your arm and a knot grows in Eddie’s stomach. If this asshole takes your hand, Eddie feels like he might throw up the burger he’s barely started digesting. 

Luckily, you move to walk back towards your group of friends before Muscles’s hand could reach yours. Eddie feels twenty pounds lighter. He turns back to look towards the parking lot and sees his sons approaching, Ryan holding an ice cream in each hand, and Luke holding one and holding onto the back of Ryan’s red t-shirt with the other hand. By the way his youngest son is rolling his eyes as they approach, Eddie realizes it was Ryan’s idea that Luke holds on to him. 

Ryan hands Eddie his scoop of cookies and cream, plopping back down to enjoy the mint chip cone he’d bought for himself. 

“DAD! OH MY GOD, DAD!!” Luke shouts, and Eddie nearly drops his cone. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

Luke points down towards the left. “Look at that doggy! He’s so cute!” Sure enough, a middle-aged couple is walking a golden retriever along the lake. Both boys sit up a bit straighter and watch as the owners toss a tennis ball into the water and the dog eagerly paddles after it. 

As Eddie’s heart rate steadies to a normal pace—seriously, he’s going to have to talk with Luke about using his “emergency voice” when it is not an emergency—he finds his gaze drifting back to you. He’s just in time to see Long Hair take the baseball cap from his own head and put it on top of yours. Eddie silently wills you to take it off, chuck it into the lake, set it on fire…but he’s utterly disappointed when you adjust it to your head and wear it proudly. 

Would she wear something of mine if I gave it to her? He silently wonders. He’s so engrossed in whatever flirtatious games you’re playing that he barely hears his older son trying to get his attention. 

“Daddy, your ice cream is leaking over the cone. Daddy! It’s getting runny and gonna drip! Daddy?”

“And whaddya keep looking that way for? The lake is that way!” Luke chimes in, face covered in cotton candy ice cream. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry, guys,” Eddie mumbles, but he keeps his gaze locked on you. A blonde guy wearing a puka shell necklace like he’s on Hawaii Five-0 points to a beach volleyball net that’s just been vacated, and you and your friends follow him. 

It’s two versus two; Muscles is serving as a referee for this game. You and Puka Shell are on a team, and Long Hair and the only other girl in your group stand on the other side of the net. You serve, the girl returns it, Puka Shell lobbies it to you, and you spike it back, surprising yourself. 

Eddie clenches his fist until he feels the ice cream cone begin to break when your teammate wraps his arms around you in a hug. Jesus H. Christ, whatever happened to high-fives? But he knows that he’d envy any little touch these guys got from you. 

He tries to distract himself, asking Ryan if he’s excited for his birthday, but he’s only half-listening. 

“What do you want for a gift?” he asks, raising his eyebrows when his sons look at him curiously. “What?”

“I just said I wanted a new Lego set,” Ryan says. He’s not annoyed, just confused. “Are you feeling okay, Daddy?”

“Maybe he has scurvy,” Luke suggests, “like the pirates in that movie we watched.”

“‘M fine,” Eddie reassures them. It takes a second for him to register what Luke’s suggested. “Did you just say I had scurvy?”

There’s no time for Luke to elaborate—not that Eddie necessarily wants him to—before your joyous squeal filters through the air. It seems as though you and Puka Shell won the game, because he’s twirling you around triumphantly. 

Does she want him picking her up? Touching her? Eddie’s inner monologue runs wild. Okay, she’s laughing and smiling, so that’s good. She’s fine with it; yeah, so that’s fine. Everything’s fine. We’re all fine here. She’s with her friends, I’m a married man here with my kids, and that’s all there is to it. 

The whistle and boom of the first firework lighting the sky is a welcome distraction. Ryan lets out a gasp as he stares in awe of the red shooting through the dark sky. Luke scoots backwards and plops himself in Eddie’s lap. He leans against Eddie’s chest and lays his head back on his shoulder as he becomes engrossed in the spectacle. It’s been a while since Luke’s sat in his lap like this, so it brings a smile to Eddie’s face. 

Mixtures of red, white, and blue fireworks crackle through the air, occasionally making shapes other than the usual spherical pattern that shimmies down. Eddie looks over at Ryan, who has a bright grin on his face. The red firework currently popping off leaves a scarlet shadow behind on his older son’s face. Beyond Ryan, Eddie glimpses a view of you watching the fireworks. You’re still with your friends, but you’re sitting a little bit in front of them with your legs crossed and your elbows resting on your knees. There’s a peaceful joy on your face and it makes Eddie’s heart give a few thumps harder than usual. Your friends behind you are talking but you couldn’t seem to care less about what they’re saying. You’re solely focused on the show in the sky. Eddie looks back at his kids and sees them just as mesmerized by the bursting colors. Luke snuggles back against his chest and Eddie is filled with warmth. He wraps his arms loosely around Luke and rests his head against his son’s smaller one as he looks up and joins in watching the celebration. 

By the time the fireworks are done, Eddie’s pretty sure his hearing is damaged. Didn’t I used to play in a metal band? Jesus, I’m getting old. Luke springs up from his dad’s lap and Ryan stands up and stretches his arms out over his head, releasing a long yawn. 

“How was that?” Eddie asks as he collects the beach towels they had been sitting on.

“So cool!” Luke says, jumping as if to emphasize his point. 

“I like the ones that make the fizzy noises as they go out,” Ryan says as he picks up the empty Burger King bag and balls it up in his hands. 

“My favorite are the ones that go pheeeeew,” Luke attempts to mimic the whistle, “then BANG!”

“What about you, Daddy?” Ryan asks. 

“Hmm,” Eddie hums as he considers the question. “The ones that were shaped like circles. They looked pretty cool. Okay, now come on and take my hands, guys. It’s gonna be like a stampede getting out of here.” Eddie tucks the towels under one arm and offers a hand to each son. 

They only make it about five steps before Luke is groaning. “It’s going to take forever to—hey! Look!”

Both Eddie and Ryan turn their heads to look in the direction that Luke is pointing. Eddie’s heart stalls in his chest. Luke’s grinning from ear to ear as he notices you walking with your friends. Ryan gives a gasp of delight when his eyes land on you as well. 

“I’m gonna go say hi!” Luke exclaims, and he’s already halfway to you before Eddie can even open his mouth. 

“Luke, I—ugh, shit.” Eddie mumbles the last part under his breath as he leads Ryan by the hand over to you and your friends. Luke is already in your arms by the time they get there. 

“And then the red one went higher than all the others! And I think it had the loudest boom, too,” Luke is saying. You look up and the brightest smile lights up your face as you see Eddie and Ryan standing there. 

“Hey, strangers,” you greet and Ryan dives in for a hug. You chuckle and wrap your arms around him too. 

Long Hair is standing to the side, slightly closer to Eddie than he is to you, and the rest of your friends are behind you. He gives a small chuckle at the intensity of the hugs the kids give you before turning to Eddie and saying, “You want a hug, too?”

You jab Long Hair in the ribs with your elbow, but that only makes him chuckle more and wrap an arm around you to pull you back against him. This time, Eddie notices, you don’t have the same enthusiastic grin that you had earlier in the evening. It takes everything in his power not to pry you from his arms. 

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, yeah?” you ask the Munson men, desperate to fill the silence. 

“Usual time and place,” Eddie says. The words would usually be accompanied by a wink or a smirk, but something about being around these college guys is grating on his nerves and it’s the closest he’s felt to being intimidated since he was a senior in high school—the first time. 

“Bye!” both boys call and wave at you before walking away with their dad. You wave in return, but it looks pitiful compared to their enthusiastic ones. 

As soon as they’re out of earshot, you pull out of your friend's arm and spin around to face him. “Peter, do you ever shut up?”

“Calm down,” Peter says, exhaling a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a scoff. “This guy’s old enough to be your dad.”

Tony smirks and rests a muscled arm on Paul’s shoulder. “Maybe she’s into the whole ‘daddy’ thing.”

The eye roll you give them is involuntary. “You guys are assholes!” 

Turning on your flip flop heel, you spin in the other direction and jog a bit until you catch up with Eddie and the boys. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” Paul asks.

A soft, gentle hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder and he looks back to see you offering him an apologetic smile. 

“I’m sorry if my friends were weird…and I’m sorry if I’m making this weirder.”

Eddie’s entire demeanor changes; despite having to watch you flirt with those douchebags—and then being mocked by them—he can’t help but soften towards you. “Nah, Sweetheart, you’re good. Be safe tonight, okay?” Be safe? Seriously, Munson? What are you, her grandpa?

You don’t seem to notice the way he bites his tongue, trying to quell the surge of embarrassment. “I always am,” you say reassuringly. “See you Monday?”

Eddie nods as you turn around to head back to your friends, utterly oblivious to the way your natural beauty outshines the brightest firework tonight. You’re everything he could ever want, but you’re young and gorgeous with a million better prospects than an old married man. 

He takes one last look at you before he brings the boys to the car. The passenger seat is empty, and he wears a sad smile when he thinks about you sitting there, excitedly chatting with him and the kids about the evening. Eddie would rest his hand on your thigh while he drives back home, and once Ryan and Luke are sound asleep, you and Eddie could make some fireworks of your own. 

Shaking his head, Eddie pulls out from the parking spot and braces himself for the holiday traffic. He grumbles some swear words under his breath, flicking on the radio to the first station that doesn’t have commercials. 

“…say I’m not so tough, just because I’m in love with an uptown girl.”

He leans back in his seat and taps out the rhythm on the steering wheel. Funny, he’s never really been a Billy Joel fan, but something about this song reminds him of—

“Dad! Luke’s looking at me!”

“He looked at me first!”

“Both of you close your eyes,” Eddie orders. He can’t see whether or not they listened, but the squabbling stopped, so he’ll consider it a victory. 

“Uptown girl, she’s my uptown girl…”

[crazyk-imagine]

Being Steve's Childhood Friend Headcanon

A/N: This was just something fun to write and I could not get it out of my head

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

- You've known Steve for too damn long, or at least that's what you tell Danny when you first meet him

- Danny is interested in you, everyone can tell

- You don’t want to admit it but you also find yourself drawn to him

- Also, admitting it would make it real (and you don’t want to lose the bet)

- You’ve got big bucks coming your way if Danny asks you out first (which you’re of course thinking of putting towards your future date or a new tie. He seems like he’d like another)

- You try to be a people person but that doesn’t mean they always like you

- Speaking of, when you met his kids, they loved you and thought you were super cool like their aunt Kono (only cooler, to which she agrees on)

- Grace loves you (she tells you all the time, trying to help her dad out)

- So does Charlie (when he's born)

- They really like you because you protect their dad and make sure he comes home in one piece and same with uncle Steve

- Danny didn’t know but during one of your cases, the bad guy was aiming for him and would have gotten to him had you not been there to pull out some moves

- Grace only knew when you tried to hide your injury later while everyone was celebrating at Steve’s

“Are you okay? Do I need to have uncle Steve call an-”

You shake your head, “Nope. I got it.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t think you do. You’re bleeding.”

You glance at your stomach, “maybe I need medical attention.”

She nods and runs into the kitchen, looking for her dad.

“Wait- Grace, no.”

Her, Danny, and Steve run into the living room of Steve’s home and the detective catches you before you could fall face first onto the floor

That was the day when Danny started to look at you in a different light and started to pursue you

To which, your longest and childhood friend did not like… at all

“You’re not dating him.”

You roll your eyes. “I can date whoever I want.”

“Anyone but Danny.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I date someone who isn’t like every other guy I dated?”  

Steve furrows his brows. “What- what about that one guy you dated back in high school?”

You shrug, “dead.”

He stares at you as if you’ve lost your mind, “I’m sorry? He’s dead?”

You wave him off, “Danny’s the better choice.”

“No.”

You spin around, keeping one hand on the door. “I’m going out with him and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Steve doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you’re dating his best friend but when he sees how you two are

He stops making nit picking comments to joking about your guys future

You two laugh along with him before you shut him down with a sarcastic remark

And of course, Danny adds onto it

Another reason why Steve didn’t want you two to get together… the sarcasm is too much

Working together has its pros and cons

You and Danny didn’t realize how much it would affect you two until a bad case came up after you started dating

It was worse than the time when you quite literally took one for him

You were being held hostage with Kono and Jerry (who kept annoying the head honcho with his questions)

It was a few hours until they found you three

It wasn’t until Danny punched the day lights out of one the bad guys till he saw your face again

He’s never told you but he nearly collapsed at the sight of you looking all banged up, clearly taking the worst of it

About two months had passed by before he decides to pull back from you, feeling it was his fault you got hurt in the first place

Steve became more protective and kept a closer eye on you (Chin doing the same with Kono)

No one needed to worry about Jerry because he kept showing up

You knew what the detective was doing, you’ve done the same thing

Another reason why it took you so long to come back home

You can’t take it anymore and confront him

You close the door to his office and sit down at the chair across from him.

He raises a brow, “hello to you too.”

“Cut the bull, you think it’s your fault, don’t you?”

“Can we rewind to when you gave me a little background information?”

You push yourself in the seat, resting your elbows on your knees as your butt rests at the edge of the seat, “no because you know exactly what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not,” your fingers run through your, usually, neat hair; messing it up. “We haven’t been the same since the case and don’t pretend like-”

He nods, “you’re right. That’s on me. I mean,” he sighs, suddenly feeling uncomfortable talking about his feelings. “It was because I was scared before but then I realized what I was doing and it felt like it was too late to change something and now, we’re here.”

“Can we at least make an effort for some kind of familiarity? I mean, its been months since we actually talked for more than three minutes.”

“How about we ditch our favorite person and go out?”

“Please tell me were not going on a break to Komokona’s shrimp truck.”

He smiles and fixes your hair before pecking your lips. “No, I’m taking you somewhere nice. Somewhere a beautiful and amazing person like yourself deserves.”

You gasp and accept his help. “You mean your bed?!”

A faux chuckle escapes him, “very funny.”

“I try.”

Steve was speechless when you two quiet literally said you’re ditching and wouldn’t be back for a bit

You two enjoyed yourselves

You managed to hold off responding to your friends many, many messages which annoyed the both of you

After that it was good, you two had never been closer or had better relationships than now

Danny still doesn’t know how he got you to agree to go out with him but he’s happy and you make him feel like the luckiest guy ever

You feel the same and consider yourself lucky to be apart of Williams family and your work family

You’re happy you decided to come back and stay where you grew up

Steve still can’t handle when you two gang up on him for anything and everything

The sarcasm is off the charts

[callahanisms]

buckle up, f*ckers

it’s been a bit since i’ve made a post. so have these driving head canons in a modern au for the hotd cast. idk i honestly think it would be funny when thinking about them driving.

ser criston cole

criston is pretty rigid when it comes to driving. he prefers the car to be silent while he drives so he’s not distracted. and sometimes, it can be really awkward because you don’t really feel like you should talk while he drives. he is generally smooth, good at following traffic laws, and he gets to places. but he’s someone to join when you need to run errands.

“(y/n), there is no eating in my car! you will make a mess. besides, you can wait another five minutes for us to return home so we can eat.”

daemon targaryen

a much cooler driver, daemon is a lot more casual with traffic laws. sometimes, he doesn’t signal when he turns (a little frustrating). but he tends to drive at night when there’s no one else but himself around. he prefers late night drives and scenic drives and be alone with his thoughts. but he will play his music loud just to annoy the hell out of criston.

“something on your mind (y/n)?...well, how about you come with me? late night drives are the best way to clear your head.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra is someone that doesn’t drive often. but when she does pull up, it’s in a nice fancy car, windows rolled down, sunglasses on. she’s a cool aunt after all and rather lax with driving. driving with her is always a joy as you two catch up on what has happened recently. she also loves going fast and stepping on that gas petal.

“do you need me to come pick you up?...okay. i will be there in a few minutes. i just need to grab this bottle of wine first.”

alicent hightower

our residential soccer mom, alicent has everything and anything anyone needs. a change of clothes? in her car. snacks? in her car. makeup? her car. she has the minivan and everything, always counting heads and making sure everyone is inside and buckled up first. she loves her minivan! and when she’s not with her kids, she’ll turn on an audiobook while she drives to work.

“i should have it in here...aha! a change of clothes for you (y/n) and some snacks. if you need anything else, just tell me.”

aegon targaryen

aegon isn’t allowed to drive. not with the large amount of duis and speeding tickets stacked up at alicent’s desk. he drives anyways. it’s just a matter of him not getting caught after all. aegon loves to go fast and he’s rather careless. oftentimes, he doesn’t buckle his seatbelt or signal his turns. it’s kind of a miracle that you haven’t died yet.

“(y/n)! i’ve come to pick you up!...what? not happy to see me? i’m not like my mom, i know. but we can go to wendy’s on the way?”

aemond targaryen

aemond is a very responsible driver. he prefers to have someone in the car with him, like you. after all, you help him with his blind spots and with spatial awareness. he’s practiced a lot and spent many hours on the road so he can master driving. he passed his test with flying colors. you much prefer to be in the car with aemond. plus he has better music taste than aegon.

“if you want, you can attach your phone to the aux and play whatever you want. we’re going to be on the road for a while. although that’s the price of going to this concert.”

helaena targaryen

helaena is one of the best drivers among her siblings. she does, however, get really anxious on the road. there are plenty of times where she had to pull over to calm herself so she wouldn’t get into an accident. poor girl has still not gone onto the highway because of how intimidating it is.

“i hate the highway. always so scary. and people can be unnecessarily mean while on the road. well, at least we’re going to the mall.”

jacaerys velaryon

jace is like his mom in many ways, in that he has a more relaxed attitude towards traffic laws. but he’s also a safe driver, making sure everyone is buckled in and that everyone has everything. he’s often the go-to soccer mom among people his age. he takes all of his friends on trips to restaurants and the mall.

“(y/n)! i’m outside! let’s get going! we have to pick up helaena and aemond. i don’t know why aemond’s coming though.”

[playhousemassacrez]

👻

(⤷ ┊  ◜ 👻 ◞  ┊    headcanons for your Missing Children and/or Puppet Soul)

William doesn't kill children, so he kills young adults in my AU instead. I also wanted to add the younger Afton kids and the Emily kids too cuz yes.

Gabriel "Gabe" Frederickson, the soul of Freddy Fazbear

Please refer him as Gabe.

During his first day inside the Animatronic Freddy body, Gabe tries to gain control of himself but the more he tried, the more pain he was in, causing his nose to bleed.

Gabe was the fifth victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Also, William favored him the most since he always saw how "foolish" he was, so the asshole tries his "best" to take Gabe under his wing.

Jeremy Boyd, the soul of Bonnie the Bunny

Jeremy tends to be the most forgetful of the gang.

He and Fritz always end up in trouble.

Has a HUGE crush on Susie but he thinks she doesn't like him that way. Little does he know; Susie also has feelings for him.

Jeremy is adorably dorky. He's a legit gift to the rest of the gang.

Jeremy always gets uncomfortable around William whenever he wears purple. Michael doesn't blame him.

He's Gabe's best friend so that's why Bonnie and Freddy are always made to be best friends.

Susie sometimes nicknames him "Jay".

Jeremy was the second victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Susie Cooper, the soul of Chica the Chicken

Susie gives out hugs a lot, if they're not tight enough to mess up anyone's organs that is.

She's adorable, but effortlessly tough.

Her Golden Retriever is named Carl. Why she named the pup Carl is forever a mystery.

Girl can stress eat A LOT.

Her relationship with Jeremy is the "He asked for no pickles!" meme.

Can cook pretty well! She learned how to cook since she was four years old from her aunt, who owned a diner since the 50's.

She's the one who painted Jeremy and Fritz's nails!

Dyed the tips of her hair brown cuz she thought it was cool.

Susie and Fritz like to butt heads with each other.

Susie was the first victim, but we all know that. Died on June 13, 1985.

Fritz Foster, the soul of Foxy the pirate Fox

Fritz had some eye trauma as a small child and had to wear an eyepatch. His eye trauma is pretty much gone now, but he still wears his eyepatch, just to make him "look cooler".

Resting bitch face for days.

Lost his hand at the age of ten when he made a bet with some other kid around the train tracks in St. George. He showed no fear that day.

He loves to mess with Susie and Jeremy a lot.

Fritz thinks he’s a ladies' man, but the ladies aren’t interested in him.

William thinks he’s ruthless, so he pretty much doesn’t like Fritz that much.

Fritz was the third victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Andrew [REDACTED], the soul of Golden Freddy/Goldie (Male)

Resting bitch face part 2: electric boogaloo

Andrew hated Freddy’s pizza cuz Fredbear’s pizza was better. He hates how greasy it is.

You might think he hates everything, but he doesn’t.

Evan likes him better than the others. Andrew finds that a bit concerning, but he adores that kid. Too bad he killed him.

Speaking of which, Andrew now has a fear for children cuz he’s afraid he would hurt them, just like he hurt Evan.

Andrew was the fifth victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Marianna Emily, the soul of The Puppet

Marianna is Charlie’s older sister.

Takes ballet classes.

Henry made the Puppet doll looks like her but she was made for Charlie.

Everyone nicknames her "Mari".

Is mostly very calm and collected, but she definitely has a good sense of enthusiasm and humor.

Marianna was also the first victim. Died on June 10, 1985.

Cassidy Belmore, the soul of Golden Freddy (Female)

Her dad is Fredbear :0!

E-Girl but it's the 1980's

"IT'S NOT A PHASE, MOM!"

Cassidy is Evan's babysitter when William and Joan go out and since sometimes Michael goes out to a friend's house (for dumbass things), Joan calls Lena if Cassidy can babysit Evan and Elizabeth.

Has some form of anger issues.

Hates the "creepy" dolls from her mom's doll collection.

Will not hesitate to beat a bitch.

Doesn't trust William that much, but he pays her when she babysits his two younger kids so she can buy "goth girl" things, so Cassidy stays quiet around him.

Resting bitch face part 3: the female version

Cassidy was the last victim. Died on June 14, 1985.

She had the worst death out of everyone else cuz William chopped her up into pieces.

Charlie Emily

Charlie, Elizabeth and Evan knew each other very well and were extremely close until they died.

She's really good friends with Elizabeth.

Charlie likes all of the Animatronics, but her favorite happens to be the Puppet cuz her dad made it for her.

Charlie calls Sammy "Sam" while he calls her "Lottie", due to the fact that her full name is Charlotte.

Charlie almost dresses like Henry.

She's as curious as her father, though not in a bad way. She’s very sweet, caring and has an innate sense of justice. She is always the one to stand up to bullies on the playground or invite a lonely kid to sit with her at lunch. She’s bright for her age, and though she may seem a bit ditzy, she’s very sharp. It's hard to get anything past her. She’s a bit oblivious to the world around her, though. She doesn’t pick up on most social cues and just goes around saying whatever she feels like with no filter, just like her father.

Charlie is the only one that likes spiders.

Like in the books, Charlie is the oldest twin.

Her favorite color is green.

Did ballet but she hates it so she dropped out of it.

Charlie was the first child victim after a few teenagers locked her outside of Fredbear's. Died on October 31, 1984.

Everyone knows that Charlie has died in the 80's, so why is there a teenage version of her existing in the modern times?

Sammy Emily, the soul of Lefty

The youngest of the Emily kids.

He and Charlie are close.

Sammy likes Freddy a lot.

Sammy wears his baseball hat sometimes. He also likes baseball and plays it.

Sammy was killed a few years after his sisters died. Died on June 18, 1988.

Elizabeth Afton

Elizabeth got her hair and eye color from her grandmother, Ruby. William loves his daughter but hates how his mother looks so similar to Elizabeth.

William's favorite child obviously.

She bit Michael on the nose once when she was two years old, due to a fit of rage. William never forgot how funny it was.

Doesn't like bugs or gross things, but Michael used to torment her by cutting the heads off her dolls, filling her pretty dress shoes with mud or sticking fake bugs in her bed.

Elizabeth once drop-kicked Michael’s legs while he tries to flirt with a girl and Michael got in trouble for making her fall.

When she was three, Elizabeth was scared of Spring Bonnie. William had to keep the suit away from Elizabeth so Spring Bonnie wouldn't scare her again.

Speaking of which, she calls Spring Bonnie "Honeybun".

She's strawberry blonde and nobody is gonna take it out of my cold dead hands.

The reason why William created Baby in the image of his daughter was because of the sick fantasy that she would continue his murderous legacy when she grows up.

William wanted Elizabeth to stay away from Baby, so she wouldn't get killed. But she didn’t listen and got killed instead. William grieved for a week after her death.

Loves playing with her dolls and drawing. She would also play dress up often, sometimes stealing her mom's make-up.

Elizabeth was very much the goofy older sister type, acting as though she knew everything about everything and could teach Evan “how the world works”, as she puts it. Evan, more or less, puts up with it and often entertained Elizabeth’s goofy, if not spoiled, nature by doing his best to keep up. He would normally be shy around people, but he loves his sister and if he has to listen to her and put up with her shenanigans, then he would be happy to.

William spoils her a lot.

Elizabeth has her mother's accent.

Michael, Elizabeth and Evan have a trio/group name that she called "The Triple A's".

Elizabeth had a ton of Barbies, My Little Ponies and other dolls from the 1980's before she died.

Her favorite color is pink cuz yes.

Elizabeth has totally done the whole "But I'm not in your room!" thing with Michael. She'd rile him up on purpose because she thinks it's fun when he gets mad and chases her out of his room.

An actual prodigy, or at least what William says.

Fairly popular at school.

Favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla.

Leans more towards her mother than her father.

Elizabeth was Baby's first victim. Died on March 16, 1985.

People nowadays don't understand why there's a teenage Elizabeth working at Freddy's. Was Elizabeth's death a hoax? Or did Elizabeth not even exist in the 80's at all?

Evan Afton

The youngest Afton child.

Evan owned a ton of plushies from both Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and Fredbear's Family Diner. His most favorite is his Fredbear plush.

Likes chocolate milk. William spoils him for that, but Joan is always worried that Evan would have a sugar rush.

Evan loves watching Sesame Street. Sometimes Elizabeth would join him, and they would always sing along to the songs. Evan's favorite characters are Elmo, Big Bird and Cookie Monster.

Evan's middle name is Christopher after Christopher Robin from Winnie the Pooh, a book that Joan's father used to read to her when she was a little girl.

Like Elizabeth, William spoils him.

Evan even has his mother's accent like his sister too.

Has autism.

Normally the quietest of the Aftons, but he talks to his plush Fredbear without any problems. This baffles everyone around him.

Evan doesn't have any close friends, but he's not really disliked either. He's just "the quiet kid".

Loves the Fredbear and Friends cartoon series. It's comforting to him whenever Michael scares the shit out of the poor kid.

Just a little guy!

Evan was the first victim to Fredbear. Jr. Died on June 13, 1985.

There's a teenage version of Evan too? People just really don't understand.

Toby Brandon, the soul of Toy Freddy

Neat freak. Nuff said.

Nerd (affectionately).

Hates video games (sorry canon! Toy Freddy fans). He just can't stand them at all.

The only male in his group lol sorry bro

Finds passion in reading books.

Frederick was the first new victim. Died on July 10, 1987.

Lila Baxter, the soul of Toy Bonnie

Sometimes Lila thinks that she's different from the other girls.

Please be patient with her. She’s been through so much.

Lila was the last new victim. Died on July 13, 1987.

Stacy Cooper, the soul of Toy Chica/Chicky

Susie's twin older sister

Not the best cook but damn, she can bake!

Her favorite flowers are pink and yellow tulips.

Favorite color is pink, duh!

Met Toby in High School (yes, that dumb Toy Chica High School anime killer thing, but my Toy Chica is a sweetheart! I promise).

Has a matching glittery pink diary and pen.

Oh, the pen looks like this:

Stacy was the second new victim. Died on July 11, 1987.

Maddison "Maddie" Fisher, the soul of The Mangle/Toy Foxy

Maddie can be mischievous and hide in the most obscure places ever. Why? Cuz she's pretty damn flexible of course!

She was pretty sad at first about the irony of being mishandled by kids.

Has super light footsteps, so she’ll randomly pop up next to people and scare them (not on purpose tho).

Foster kid. Went through many foster homes until she was 19. Now lives with Toby and Stacy in their apartment.

She and Lila are best friends!

Often very clumsy, so she would get herself hurt sometimes.

Maddie was the third new victim. Died on July 12, 1987.

[pages-of-us]

An Unexpected Visit

The suspense in the Zane household was palpable. Earlier in the week, Ralph had mentioned an old friend was coming to visit, someone he hadn’t seen in years. While the kids were always excited to meet someone from their parents’ past, they were particularly intrigued this time. Ralph had let it slip that his friend, Dominique, was not only a poet but also a published one. Elliot, the family’s resident bookworm and aspiring writer, was already brimming with questions.

“What’s she like?” Yaz had asked over breakfast, her toast half-forgotten on her plate.

“Is she cooler than Aunt Yvonne?” Ellias had chimed in, earning a snort from Ralph.

Andrew, sitting at the head of the table, smiled but couldn’t hide the small flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He trusted Ralph implicitly, but the mention of an old flame—even one who was now a friend—had stirred something faint and fleeting in him.

“You’ll see,” Ralph had said simply, ruffling Yaz’s hair. “She’s... different. You’ll like her.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — — — — —

When the doorbell rang that Saturday afternoon, all six Zanes—Blue included—gathered at the door. Ralph opened it to reveal Dominique, a tall woman with sharp features softened by a warm smile. She carried an air of effortless grace, her dark hair pulled into a loose bun and a messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

“Wolfe!” she greeted, pulling him into a brief but heartfelt hug.

“Dom,” Ralph replied, smiling warmly. “You look great. Come in.”

"Wolfe?" Ellias echoed, intrigued.

"Just an old nickname." Ralph explained with a curt nod.

As Dominique stepped inside, her eyes swept over the bustling household, taking in the kids and Andrew with a quick, friendly wave.

“Everyone,” Ralph said, gesturing toward her, “This is Dominique. Dom, meet my family.”

Andrew extended a hand first, his smile polite but guarded. “Andrew Zane-Vleugels. Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you,” Dominique said, shaking his hand firmly. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Ralph talks about you and the kids all the time.”

Elliot stepped forward next, practically bouncing on his heels. “Hi! I’m Elliot. I heard you’re a published poet. What’s your favorite poem you’ve written? Do you use traditional forms, or do you prefer free verse?”

Dominique laughed, clearly charmed. “That’s quite the introduction. I love free verse, but I dabble in forms too. We’ll have to talk poetry later.”

“I’d love that!” Elliot beamed.

Yaz and Ellias introduced themselves next, Yaz blurting out, “Are you as cool as Aunt Yvonne?”

“Doubtful,” Dominique replied, her eyes twinkling. “But I’ll do my best.”

Even Blue seemed to take an immediate liking to Dominique, wagging his tail enthusiastically as she scratched behind his ears.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — — — — —

The family gathered in the living room, the kids taking up their usual spots on the floor while Dominique sat on the couch between Ralph and Andrew. She regaled them with stories of her travels, her slam poetry readings experiences, and the odd characters she’d met along the way.

Elliot hung on her every word, occasionally scribbling notes in his ever-present journal. Yaz and Ellias, while less enthralled by the poetry talk, were still engaged, especially when Dominique shared anecdotes about her adventurous mishaps, like getting lost in the Italian countryside while searching for inspiration.

Andrew, to his credit, listened attentively, though his gaze would occasionally flicker to Ralph. He noticed the easy camaraderie between the two, the way they laughed at inside jokes from years ago. It wasn’t jealousy exactly—it was more of a protective curiosity.

At one point, Dominique caught Andrew’s eye and said, “You know, Ralph always talked about how much he admired you back in the day. Even when we were just friends, he’d say, ‘There’s this guy I used to know who had this way with words...’”

Andrew blinked, caught off guard. “He did?”

“Absolutely.” Dominique smiled warmly. “And I can see why.”

Andrew felt the faint flush of warmth in his cheeks and offered a more genuine smile in return.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Over dinner, the conversation turned lively. Dominique shared more stories, and the kids eagerly chimed in with tales of their own adventures.

When Andrew got up to clear the table, Dominique followed him to the kitchen.

“Hey,” she said softly, leaning against the counter. “I just wanted to say... I hope my being here doesn’t feel weird. Ralph and I are ancient history, but I wouldn’t want to cause any awkwardness.”

Andrew paused, glancing over at her. “It’s not weird,” he said after a moment. “Maybe a little surprising at first, but... I can see you’re an important part of his past. And you’re obviously great with the kids.”

Dominique smiled. “Thanks for saying that. For what it’s worth, he seems ridiculously happy with you.”

Andrew chuckled. “He’s not too bad himself.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — — — — —

As the evening wound down, Dominique stood to leave, promising to visit again soon.

“Next time, bring some of your poetry,” Elliot insisted. “I want to see how you format your lines!”

“Deal.” Dominique said, ruffling his hair.

At the door, Dominique gave Ralph another hug. “Thanks for having me. It was so good to catch up.”

“Anytime,” Ralph replied. “Take care of yourself.”

As Dominique turned to Andrew, she extended a hand. “It was really great to meet you.”

Andrew surprised her by pulling her into a brief hug. “Likewise. Don’t be a stranger.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — — — — — — —

That night, after the kids were tucked in, Andrew and Ralph sat together on the couch, a comfortable silence between them.

“She’s nice.” Andrew said finally. "I thought it'd be hard to get along with her, given the history. But it was great getting to know her."

“She is,” Ralph agreed. He glanced at Andrew, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But not nearly as nice as you.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but his smile was unmistakable.

“You know,” Ralph said, leaning closer, “I bet you get away with a lot of trouble with that smile.”

Andrew laughed, leaning into him. “I try my best.”

And just like that, any lingering doubts dissipated into thin air, leaving only love in its wake.

[sacredsorceress]

Cake || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend bucky barnes head down to the wilson residence for a barbecue. sam’s nephews adore the both of you and as you watch bucky play with the kids you’re ready to tell your boyfriend that you’re pregnant

a/n: gif credit- @davidsfincher ; i will never get over this scene. reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: pure fluff based on episode six, mentions of pregnancy

masterlist || request || taglist

“I say we get the vanilla one.”

Standing besides you in the supermarket aisle with his arms crossed, your boyfriend turned to look at you with disgust written all over his face.

“Vanilla?” Bucky said, shaking his head. “Are you kidding, Y/n? All kids like chocolate.”

As he was speaking, Bucky reached out to pull one of the chocolate cakes off of the shelf it was sitting on, but you swat his hand away.

“Oh yea?” You asked. “And what makes you the expert on what kids like?”

Uncrossing his arms, he waved his hand in your face.

“Metal arm.” He said. “Also don’t pretend like Sam’s nephews didn't love me last time we were there.”

You couldn't argue with that. The last time the two of you had been to the Wilson residence in between missions, Sam’s nephews absolutely adored the super soldier. They couldn't get enough of the one hundred and six year-old man with the vibranium arm and the fun they had messing with him.

You had just as much joy watching the interactions between the three of them. You couldn’t help but entertain the idea of starting a family of your own with Bucky.

The two of you had been dating for years- not including the five year blip the two of you had been snapped from existence in- and had often discussed the idea of getting married and having children in the future. You didn’t think you would be ready yet, but as you watched children be in absolute awe of your boyfriend, you felt as though the pieces began to fell into place.

And funnily enough- they did.

You had been feeling sick and exhausted for the past few weeks, but you figured it was on account of the missions you had been going on with Sam and Bucky. When the symptoms continued while you stayed at the Wilson’s home for the weekend while Bucky helped Sam fix the boat- you had taken pregnancy test.

It was positive.

Although you knew that you and Bucky could handle it, you were still in absolute shock realizing that you were going to be starting a family- you were going to be responsible for more than just making sure you and your friends didn’t get killed fighting bad guys- you were going to be a parent.

The only person who knew was Sam’s sister, Sarah. She was the only one inside the house when you had taken the test and when she had heard you pacing around the bathroom, hyperventilating, she opened the unlocked door and immediately saw the pregnancy test in your hands. You had sworn her to secrecy, making sure she didn’t tell your boyfriend or her brother, promising her that you would tell them when the time was right... but with the mission in New York City coming immediately after your stay, you hadn't found the right opportunity to tell Bucky yet.

However, you told yourself that you finally would tonight... after attending the barbecue.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “I can’t argue with that. They did love you, but that doesn’t mean you know anything about cake.”

Reaching his hand out for the chocolate cake again he scoffed. “I’m not taking advice from someone who wants to bring a vanilla cake to a party-”

You swat his hand again. “We’re not getting the chocolate.”

“Yes,” He insisted, inching his face closer to yours. “We are.”

“No. We’re not.”

“Can I help you guys with anything?” You heard a worker ask from behind you.

Backing away from your boyfriend you smiled, shaking your head.

“No, we’re fine. Thank you.”

As you watched the worker nod before walking down the aisle, you turned back to your boyfriend.

“Okay fine.” You said. “We’ll compromise. Ice cream cake?”

You watched as Bucky’s eyes widened. “Wait! There’s ice cream cake?”

Twenty minutes later you and Bucky had arrived at the barbecue, your boyfriend taking the cake out of your hands as he stepped out of the car.

As you made your way around the front of the vehicle you watched as Sam’s nephews bombarded Bucky, play fighting with him as he faked attacking them back, making sure to dodge their fists from knocking over the cake in his hands.

You couldn’t deny the way the sight made your heart fill so much you swore it could’ve exploded right in your chest.

As you watched the scene unfold, hearing the laughter erupting from the children around him while he faked getting hurt, you heard Sarah come up behind you.

“You know,” She said, crossing her arms and standing beside you. “You almost scared me to death watching you on the news.”

Glancing at her beside you, you shrugged. “I was fine.” You said. “That wasn’t the first fight I’ve been in.”

“I just can’t believe they let you go.” She said.

“What? What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” She laughed. “I can’t believe they would let you go do something so dangerous like that knowing you’re-”

Before she could finish her sentence you swat at her arm, rapidly shaking your head, checking around you to make sure no one was listening to your conversation or had heard what she had just said.

“I didn’t tell them yet.” You told her in a hushed voice.

“What?” She asked. “Why not?”

“I couldn’t tell them. If I did they would have never let me go- especially Bucky- but I couldn’t let them go in by themselves like that. You’ve seen the Flag Smashers, Sarah.”

“How long are you going to keep this a secret?” She asked.

“I was going to tell him today.” You told her. “We just needed to sort out the Flag Smashers before I could even think about telling him I’m pregnant-”

“You’re pregnant?”

At the sound of Sam’s voice, you and his sister immediately spun around to be met with Sam standing behind you, only a foot away.

You watched as his mouth dropped and his eyes grew wide and you felt your heart began to race in your chest, knowing that you had just exposed your secret to Sam- you and Bucky’s shared best friend.

“Sam...” You said.

“I-” He stumbled over his words, trying to piece the information together. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, but you can’t tell Bucky.” You pleaded, gripping his bicep. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” He exclaimed looking between you and his sister. “How long have you known? Why haven’t you told him yet?”

Playing with one of the rings on your fingers, made anxious by the conversation, you focused your gaze on the water behind him, not able to meet his eyes.

“I found out last time I was here.” You said. “So I found out like a week ago. You can't blame me though, Sam, if I told him he would of never let me go help you guys in New York.”

“Yeah!” Sam nodded. “Neither would I. You could of died!”

“But I didn’t!” You said. “Just don’t tell him okay, Sam? I’m going to tell him tonight.”

Before anymore could be said, you heard the sound of your name being called by Sam’s nephews and spun around to find them running in your direction.

“Hey guys!” You laughed, a smile reaching your face once again.

Watching them run towards you, you knew what they wanted before they even had to ask. Stretching out your arms, you moved your hands in the direction of each of the boys, using your powers to lift them a maximum of three feet above the ground- not wanting to upset their mother. You smiled as you watched the boys laugh about how “awesome” it was in awe as they looked down at the ground three feet below them.

You felt Sam’s hand land on your shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, Y/n.” You heard Sam say, leaning in closer so no one outside of your current group could hear him. “You both are going to be great parents. Just tell him soon, okay?”

He pat your shoulder one last time before walking past you and his nephews you were still currently floating midair.

“How come when I ask you guys if you want to fly you say no?” Sam asked.

“She’s using magic!” Cass exclaimed.

“Yeah, Uncle Sam.” AJ agreed. “That’s way cooler.”

Sam threw his hands up in the air, walking in the opposite direction and as he did you lowered the boys to the ground, much to their disappoint. When they scurried off in the direction of their uncle, your eyes met Bucky’s staring at you, smiling from across the way of where you had just been levitating Sam’s nephews.

“Look at you!” He said, smiling, reaching out his arms for you.

“Me?” You laughed. “You just had a whole choreographed fight scene with the boys. You’re like their cool uncle.”

You watched as your boyfriend pulled off his sunglasses and smiled at you, resting his vibranium hand on your waist.

“Only if you’re their cool aunt.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Afterwards the two of you went to eat and spent the remainder of the meal sharing a table with Sam, his sister and his nephews. Despite the dangerous mission the three of you had been dealing with the past week, the table was full of laughter and joy that you were happy to welcome in.

Even when the cake that you had brought was sliced, you and Bucky smiled at each other from across the table when the boys scoffed down their slice of ice cream cake that contained both vanilla and chocolate- your compromise having worked in the end for the better. At times you even used your abilities to pull the fork out of your boyfriend’s hand just as he was about to bite down on a slice of cake, hearing the boy’s laugh as they watched the super soldier roll his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.” Bucky would say. “Very funny... what is that? Three times now? Really, Y/n?”

But he knew you would continue to do it as long as you continued to hear the sounds of awes coming out of the boys’ mouths and he couldn’t fault you for that. Instead sneaking you a smile when you brought the fork back into his grasp.

At the end of the evening when everyone had began to make their way home, the sun setting over the horizon, you helped tidy up with the Wilson siblings. When the tables were all wiped clean, you brushed your hands off on your bottoms, watching as Bucky sat on the edge of the dock, the golden hue of the sunset setting on his features.

Glancing over your shoulder as Sarah ushered her children back home, you saw Sam throw you a thumbs up. When your eyes met his you smiled, mouthing a “thank you” before he turned in the direction of his sister, following her path back home.

Sighing to yourself you turned back to your boyfriend.

You were going to tell him. You were going to finally tell him you were pregnant.

You took one last deep breath, taking in the last moment before Bucky and your’s life changed forever.

Making your way towards your boyfriend you kneeled behind him, your chest meeting his back as you wrapped your arms around his chest.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi doll.” He hummed, moving his hands to hold yours that were resting against his chest.

“Had a nice day?” You asked, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his cheek.

You felt as his chest rumbled when he chuckled, staring out over the water while the sun continued to set, its reflection turning the water gold.

“Yeah.” He said. “I wish it could be like that every day, you know?”

You knew what he meant. You understood that he was talking about the peace, the joy, the laughter- the normalcy. You understood that he was talking about how your lives were so hectic and always would be due to the hand you had been dealt with super human abilities. You could never have a normal life, but you also understood that it was more than just never having to fight or go on a mission again- it was the feeling of family, of caring and of love.

“I know it can’t be like that every day.” You said. “But would you... would you settle for most days?”

You felt his hands squeeze yours a bit more, tilting his head back to get a better look at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Would you settle for most days, Buck?” You asked again. “Would it all be worth it even if you still had to fight?”

He answered in a heartbeat.

“Of course it would.” Bucky said. “I’d fight for one day of this.”

You unwrapped your arms from around his chest, moving to kneel besides him on the dock so he could face you. Knowing what you were about to say, you took in the moment, breathing in the fresh air and memorizing the way his face looked in the golden hour.

“I’m pregnant.”

You watched as his face dropped and you were almost worried until a wide smile reached across his face.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked, so in disbelief he sounded as though the wind had been knocked right out of him.

You smiled, nodding your head and took his hand in yours. “I am. I found out a few days ago-”

“Wait.” He cut you off. “A few days ago? Did you know you were pregnant when we fought in New York City?”

Staring at his face now, confronting the issue, you were suddenly very interested in the frosting he had somehow gotten on the bottom of his shirt, tugging on the hem and scratching it off.

“Y/n?”

“Okay, yes. I knew.” You confessed.

Rather than the fed up, overprotective reaction you were expecting, you felt Bucky’s hands reach to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. Rather than anger in his eyes, all you saw was worry and you were wishing you had never gone and fought just so you could save yourself from seeing him like that.

“Promise me you won’t fight anymore.” He said. “At least until the baby’s here- God I can’t believe we’re having a baby- just promise me okay? If anything happened to either of you I wouldn’t know what to do with myself-”

“I promise, Buck.” You assured him, smiling and beginning to feel tears prickle in your eyes. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

You watched as he began to smile once again and the two of you couldn’t help but laugh- so consumed in complete and utter joy. You and Bucky had gone through so much- especially within the last few months- but as you both sat there, so happy you couldn’t help but laugh, you realized it was worth it and you would go through it all again if it meant that at the end of the day you two would come back to each other every single time.

For the first time in your life, you watched as tears of joy began to fill his eyes, almost as if they had begun to wash away the years of pain that he had suffered previously. Although he was sure he hadn’t fought his last fight... he was sure he was going to be okay. He was happy. He was going to share his life with you. He was going to be a dad.

“We’re gonna have a kid.” He repeated the words, almost as if to convince himself that they were true.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad, Buck.” You told him, laughing through the tears that had begun to fill your eyes. “If you’re half as good at being a dad as you are the ‘cool uncle’- our kid is in good hands.”

“You think so?” He asked.

“I know so, Buck.”

[boldlyvoid]

Cowboy Like Me | It could be love

Summary: Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Warnings for this chapter: Jack POV then Haley's ghost POV, short interlude chapter before the Climax of the story happens <3

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Once Scott gave Jeremy that talking to, he’s been a lot nicer to Jack at school. Or Mack, as everyone called him.

His full name is Mackenzie Colt on the attendance sheet, Miss Bowery called out his fake name, marking him as present before calling out the rest of the 13 names on the list. It was such a small schoolhouse, their grade had the most students, it was boring as all hell but he preferred it over the stuffed feeling of 30 kids in a DC classroom fighting for the attention of one teacher.

Next year he’d get to start high school, going 2 towns over to a school with over 700 kids and maybe, just maybe, he’d find some real friends for a change.

Jeremy was a nice person when he dropped the asshole, cool guy act. He took Jack into his group, the teasing stopped, and Jeremy started telling people that they were cousins technically and that made him cooler somehow. It was so insane to him that this was his life now, he went from having a best friend and cousin in Henry to having a somewhat cousin trying to be his possible friend in Jeremy.

Here, the boys only wanted to talk about their farms, the things they were hunting on the weekends and the upcoming lumberjack games. Jack missed going to the comic book store at 9 in the morning on a Saturday to get the first copy of a new comic with Henry. He missed walking down the busy street at 6pm with Jess to go get a tub of ice cream to eat while his dad was away on a case. He missed the mundane nothingness of his old life, where he wasn’t scared some creep was going to kidnap him and he could do things he actually liked.

He knew this feeling wouldn’t last forever, growing up unsure of what every day would look like prepared him for this. He grew up a lot faster than the rest of his classmates, losing his mom in such a horrible way and then being forced back on the run at 12, trying to keep himself safe and happy completely alone it seemed for all those years before he met Y/N.

She’s the first person who’s felt like a mom to him since his actual mother died. Jess tried, but she was always going to be the cool aunt. Penelope was too smothering, Emily hated kids no matter how much she tried to pretend she was interested in him, and JJ had her own kids, Jack just felt like an obligation to her. It was hard to find support in them, they loved him like a family he was born into… cause they had to. That’s how families worked, he thought.

And then he met Y/N, she didn’t have to take him in. She could’ve just let them live in the back house and go about her own life without a care in the world, but instead, she made Jack and Aaron a part of her family and she’ll never know how much that means to him.

For years he wished he had a real mom again, someone to tuck him in and kiss his forehead after reading a book to him. Someone to wake him up gently the next morning and carry him downstairs for breakfast, helping him get ready for the day and then spending it together. He missed the ability to be taken care of by someone who didn’t see it as a chore or an obligation... like a best friend was raising him. He missed his mommy more than he could ever explain.

He got off the bus that day to find Y/N standing at the end of the driveway, arms wide and waiting for a hug as he ran off. He took his headphones off, running into his arms, she holds him so tight. "hi mama," he mumbles into her shirt.

“Missed you,” she whispers as she kisses the top of his head. “How was school today?”

He shrugs as he pulls back, “same as usual.”

“How’s Miss Bowery?” She asks, knowing her from when they were kids as well.

“She’s good, we did well on our math test this week so she let us watch a movie during the last hour,” he manages to smile.

“What did you watch?” She inquires, always wanting to know about his day during their walk back to the house.

“We started Osmosis Jones,” he has a press-lipped smile, “it was kinda gross in the beginning but the cartoon part is really good.”

“I think I saw it, it came out before you were even born,” she tries to think back to it. It was one of the only movies playing at the Ivy Ridge theatre a few towns over when she was in her 20’s.

“What are we having for dinner tonight?” He changes the topic abruptly, rubbing his tummy as he looks up at her.

“I’m not sure,” she shrugs. “We’ve been so busy with the farmers market prep… but I can make you anything on the menu for dinner tonight, bud.”

“Would I be able to have a snack now?” He asks nicely.

“Sure can,” she pats his back.

It was as simple as that really, she was his mom and he was happier with her in his life, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss Haley. Ever since he got that candle from Y/N, he’s been feeling closer than ever to accepting the fact his mom passed on, but she’ll forever be his guardian angel. Sometimes he felt like she was with them, in a way he could never explain, but he felt it in his heart.

—

And Haley was actually there, sat collecting dust with the other ghosts that inhabited Evermory.

She always wondered what the afterlife was like if she would be a ghost or an angel or something in between. When she died, when she felt the last breath leave her lungs, her only thought was ‘I need to protect my baby.’ So thats where her soul stayed connected, something she only learned when she got here.

Este died a few years after Haley, but even with less time under her belt, she understood more about being dead than anyone else she’s crossed paths with.

The day jack and Aaron moved to Evermory, Haley showed up on the farm, wandering around aimlessly in the dark for some answers. There was a little boy and his father out resting by the tree. A woman sweeping in the kitchen, singing to herself, and a lone woman in the cafe, in the chair by the window, wishing she could leave.

Haley took a seat beside her, “excuse me…”

“Hello,” she smiles, “you look like a friend I once had…”

“My name's Haley… my ex-husband and my son are living here, I guess I came with them?” She didn’t understand how it all worked.

“I’m Este, I’ve been here for a while… I was murdered—

“Me too,” Haley interjects. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she reaches out her hand, holding Haley’s, her eyes go wide.

“I can feel you…”

Este smiles at her, “Yeah, cause we’re both dead, we’re made of the same matter. I just don’t understand how you’re here if you never died here?”

She shrugs, “I go where Jack and Aaron go.”

“Who?”

“Daren and Mack, they’re in witness protection,” she explains, knowing that the secret couldn’t reach the land of the living even if they spoke them there.

“Oh,” she starts to think back. “That makes a lot of sense, Ed’s always housing people for a year or so at a time and then we never see them again.”

She sits back with a sigh, “Aaron works with the FBI, when I died some idiot felt threatened by him and Aaron didn’t take the deal he offered, and so he threatened to kill our family…”

“I confronted my husband Robert about cheating on me with someone he worked with, and he killed me,” she gets it. “how’d you go out?”

“Shot and stabbed,” she says it like it’s nothing, trading stories about scars that never got to heal.

“Strangled,” Este shrugs. “well… it’s nice to have you here for the time being. I’m the only one that stays right here, I can’t leave.”

“Have you tried?”

She nods, “I made a promise, my soul is stuck here.”

That promise was to watch over Jack. Which she’s been doing extra hard lately. Ensuring his safety on the farm, making sure the kids at school learn Karma is a bitch for messing with her son and always keeping an extra eye out for the creep who wants to kill him this time.

It was annoying knowing that Aaron was always in danger. Incredibly angered by the fact that even after she died because of him, he still went back to work, he still made dumb decisions and their son was still at risk because of him. Sure, she fell out of love with him a long time ago, and there was something about ghosts getting angrier the longer they stayed between worlds, but she was the most pissed that she was never enough for him.

Y/N was.

Within 2 months of knowing her, Aaron was ready to quit his job and retire on the farm for the rest of time, and Haley was just supposed to sit back and watch it happen. It was heartbreaking, it didn’t matter that he was her ex-husband, what matters is that she was never enough.

She did everything right, and still, he couldn’t stop until he met her… the same woman who’s taken in her son, the one who passed on real hugs and gentile reminders that he’s loved while Haley can't do that. She’s changed both Aaron and Jack’s lives and while she’s mad it wasn’t her to do it, she’s happy they’re being taken care of.

At the end of the day, her boys are happy and healthy and thats all she could ever ask for.

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[angelwiththeblue-box]

my thoughts on shang chi

obviously spoilers under the cut

- ten rings but they're actually bracelets

-i despise the romantic tension between the mother and the father in the first fight scene

- jiang li is so badass i love her

- when jiang li uses the rings, theyre gold, just like when shang chi uses them, so my theory is when xialing uses the rings, theyre blue, like her father

- the best misdirect is that shang chi is actually rich when in reality hes a valet

-the music in this is quality

- i want a friendship like katy and shang chi

- you fucking tell them katy

- the bus fight scene is the fucking best (actually all the fight scenes are the best)

- the MUSIC

- yas shang chi king shit right there

- the audacity that xu 'radiating bisexual energy' shang chi didnt ever do peace sign or finger guns is a travesty

- katy and shang chi are chaotic besties and i love them

- aw man the poor college students computer

- i appreciate that whenever shang chi or katy fell into each other it wasnt romantic in the slightest

- 'go you freak' katy im love you

- xialing could have stopped thanos by herself

- me, who lived in la for over half of my life: oh hey i know that!

- xialing shang chi katy chaotic trio when

- i love xialingxkaty so much

- wong is iconic and i love him

- 'now take your shirt off' dude whos name i dont remember you're iconic

- xialing marry katy challenge

- xialing could fucking murder me and i would thank her

- the paralells between xialing catching katy and shang chi catching katy is so funny bc when shang chi caught katy it was so platonic and then xialing had like five seconds of romantic eye contact with katy and they fell in love

- and THEN WHEN KATY CATCHES XIALING AND THEYRE GAY AND I LOVE THEM - these fight scenes are so good oh my god

- i fucking hate the father please die right now

- xialing uses she/they pronouns no i do not take arguments

- queens supporting queens

- *chanting* ace ring ace ring ace ring ace ring ace ring

- jiang li deserved so much better than the fucking father

- we deserved more scenes of xialing and shang chi being chaotic siblings

- fuck this bitch and his sexist fucking army i hope they die

- katy only cried out in anger when xialing was thrown in this essay i will-

- i want to live in ta lo it sounds so much cooler

- AWWWW MORRIS I LOVE YOU I WANT ONEEEEEE

- 'chicken pig' my beloved

- xialing i love you

- SHE GIVES THE KEYS TO KATY

- ta lo is so pretty

- i dont know what morris is but i know i want one

- xialing looks so sad when her aunt says welcome home because shes never felt at home until now

- xu xialing please step on me

- i love that you can find the similiarities and differences between the fighting styles in ta lo and the fighting stylves of the ten rings because the ten rings style radiates violence and pain while the ta lo style is more gentle, more calm, more on focusing your energy.

- THEY FIGHT SMARTER NOT HARDER - tiny shang chi and xialing are so cute

- the mother should have let the iron gang or whatever kill the father

- BE THERE FOR YOUR CHILDREN YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE

- can this idiot not see the winged hellspawn coming out of the mountain

- D R A G O N

- the mirror between the last fight scene between shang chi and his father and the father and the mother is so cool i love it

- xialing deserved half of the ten rings (also a girlfriend) (actually both)

- YASSS KATY FUCKING KILLING IT

- the shang chi cinematography my beloved

- yes xialing kill him

- their armor is so prettyyyyy

- (i dont remember what i wrote this about but its a quality fucking line) its called deceit you whore

- everyone in this movie is badass except for the villians, who are just asses

- katy being starstruck over carol danvers is a mood i love her

- i kinda love the way it seems like all magic is connected thats awesome

- wong shang chi and katy doing karaoke i love

- XIALING AS A VILLIAN IS SO BADASS YES QUEEN

tl:dr xialing and katy are a power couple, i love xialing, the cinematography in this movie is awesome, i want to kill the father

[marindram]

full transcription of Marin's blog from Omega Mart!

huge thanks to @b0chelly for recording a scroll-through, which i typed this out from. (and warning for Omega Mart lore/story spoilers. second half is in reblog)

Marinknows.best

Location: Seven Monolith Village

Last Login: 12/31/2019

Profile Views: 101,275

About me: I love listening to music and glitter

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June 26, 2018

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee!

So 14 feels way different than 13. For real. I think it's because I was expecting 13 to feel different, but sometimes when you expect something it turns out the opposite ya know?

Plus, 13 is like, "I'm new to being a teenager!!"

14 is more like, "I'm becoming the person I want to be." At least that's how I want it to be. I wanted to start this blog as a record of all that.

I should ask Did you guys feel the same way when you turned 13 and 14?

But probably nobody's gonna read this because I'm just a weirdo in the weird dessert. I mean, I know my best friend Jesse is reading this (hi Jesse). Besides her, crickets.

But yeah, if you are reading this and you don't know me - I live in Seven Monolith Village, a teensy tiny town that you've only heard of if you're into aliens or homesteading. And I'm literally stuck. As in, I'm physically unable to leave. My first memories are of all the adults in my life (Charlie, my great-uncle/father-figure - Rose, my what? Roommate? Mother-figure? Pseudo-aunt? All of the above? and my mom, Cecelia. who doesn't live here) telling me that for some reason, there's something wrong with me that makes it so I can't leave a certain radius of where we live. I got older and thought that they were just exaggerating to keep me safe, but then last year I tried. And it was, let's just say not good.

Anyway. That part of my life sucks, but not everything sucks. This year is all about Marin Dram 2.0. Not new, but definitely improved.

And maybe someday, somehow somebody will read this and care about what I have to say. Somebodies, even. Until then, this is Marin Dram signing off and sending my lame contemplations into the void!

July 1, 2018

Things I Want To Do Before I Turn 20 (and some of these will never happen like are literally unable to happen but JUST LET ME DREAM

1. Kiss someone (who???)

2. Meet HTB (kiss him) (jk he would never) (plus meeting him would be enough)

3. Go to Paris

4. Go to Rome (or somewhere cooler in Italy, look up where is the best pasta???)

5. Go to Greenland (why not???)

6. Go to New York City

7. Go to LA (with a dream and my cardigan lol)

8. Go to the Grand Canyon (this isn't mine, but 9, Jesse is sitting right here and she went to the GC when we were 12 and she's like blah blah blah it's my favorite place in the world and you'll love it. I'm doing this so she'll shut up.

9. Live in a normal house with normal rooms → ideally 12 of them: living room AND TV room, kitchen, dining room, 3 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, study/library.

-plus an upstairs downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I got my own

-plus an upstairs/downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I get my own room with an actual door. Very into doors.

10. Go to a mall (Jesse says there's a bunch of bonkers ones in Vegas)

11. Make friends who aren't Jesse (no offense, Jesse)

12. Get Cecelia (my "mom") to teach me about business stuff so I can open my own cool coffeeshop/bookstore someday

13. Learn to drive (ask Charlie to teach me, he's obsessed with his truck) (Jesse says she can teach me because she's Little Miss Mechanic and thinks she knows everything about cars but news flash Jesse: you're you get than me)

14. Figure out my signature style- like I want people to send me pictures of things and be like "this just screamed Marin" and for that to be true

15. Liquid eyeliner??

16. I'm stopping here because I just read over all this and want to die/cry because easily 3/4 of these are literally impossible?

17. Kill me

18. Bye

19. Lololol Charlie just came in and I was complaining about this, not being able to leave and stuff, etc and he said that I should visit new places by... reading books?? And I mean I like to read. But dude. That's the dumbest thing I've ever head.

July 30, 2018

Okay so this is what I want my life to look like:

I want a pink room. Not just pink... P I N K. Cool pink wallpaper (floral? jacquard??), pink carpet, lots of pink flowers everywhere, a four-poster bed with a pink silk canopy, lots of cool pink throw pillows. Like, so pink that

people think I'm being sarcastic! Oh, and BOOKS. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and some of the shelves have, like, STUFF on them that isn't books, like gifts people gave me, or things I've collected on my JOURNEYS. You know, normal stuff that people who live on normal places and do normal things have.

If I lived in in this room, it'd be in awhite three-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac (did you know "culs-de-sac" is the plural? Not "cul-de-sacs"? crazy) and I'd wear very classic girly clothes and my hair would always do what I wanted it to. It'd be one of those towns that people call small, but it's actually a city. just one with a kinda small, cozy feeling. Somewhere that gets cold enough to wear cute jackets but not so cold I have to to like, shovel my driveway. Not a non-place with like 100 people where you can't even go outside without going crazy.

August 2nd, 2018

I guess I should explain where I live, for all my avid fans out there! (lol) (hello??)

So like... I don't live on Earth. At least, not the Earth you think of when you think of EARTH. I live in some some weird off-brand version of Earth called the Forked Earth where there are aliens and magic wells of magic energy and everything is MAGIC but like the crappy kind of magic, where the sun never fully rises and some goo called "runoff" has made everything wacky and oh yeah, my mom is responsible for that and everyone here hates her!! LOL

Also, I can't leave! Like, literally can't! Rose says I'm a "special child of Source" and that's why but that LITERALLY explains tells me nothing, in fact it just raises further questions that no one can seem to answer! AHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, the last time I tried to leave I felt. When I try to leave I feel like I'm being pulled back by something, like you know those old cartoons where someone's on stage doing something dumb and then someone offstage pulls them away with a giant shepard's crook? It felt like that, and when I opened my eyes I was back in 7 Monolith Village. UGH.

I know this sounds crazy!!!!! But believe me when I say that I am the least crazy person here. Also, """here""" is C R A Z Y. Runoff has made everything the bad kind of psychedelic and then people here actually DRINK IT! Not only do I not DRINK THE STUFF THAT HAS MADE THE WORLD INSANE, I also do not talk to aliens (or whatever Nula are) like Rose or believe crazy conspiracy theories like Charlie, so I believe that qualifies me as the most normal person in the Forked Earth, thank you for this honor, I accept this award with humility and grace!

September 4, 2018

I had the weirdest dream last night?? I was swimming in a pool full of cereal, and when I came up for air, my mom was pouring milk on my head like she was rinsing my hair. She had her hand over my face like I was a little kid and she was shielding me from soap getting in my eyes.

Anyway I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. I went to bed hungry and I need to take a shower? Lol

October 16, 2018

I was trying to hide this entry from Jesse, but JESSE IS A NOSY PERSON. She says that blogs are for readers, and if I wanted something to be private then I should "Just write in a fucking notebook and hide it under your bed like a normal person, Marin." I'm allowed to have secrets!! Anyway, I'm making her a freaking playlist, that's why I wouldn't tell her what I was writing about. but EVEN STILL! I'm allowed to have secrets!! But I have this blog because I wanna get my feelings out, I wanna see everything in my head typed out all nice in a way that doesn't make it look insane. You know? I don't know who I'm asking.) Because, it's not like I go to a normal school or have a normal life where I'm surrounded by normal people I can talk to. No one knows about me! I'm trapped in this crazy place and This blog is my only outlet to the world outside. I KNOW that's heavy but it's true! The point is: Jesse's birthday is coming up. The central consistent thing in pretty much my whole life is sharing headphones with her and listening to music. The soundtrack to my entire existence is her. I wish I had money and could buy her the best presents of all time, but I can make her the best playlist of all time. I want it to be so good it feels like magic. I want her to think I'm magic. I had another dream the other night. I don't remember much, just glitter. I must be crafting too much. Or looking at festival makeup tutorials. Or both.

November 12, 2018

WARNING- Weird thoughts ahead, lol.

I can never tell which feelings are normal, and which are me being a giant weirdo. But for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling like every part of my body that's possible to have a ribbon tied around it, has a ribbon tied around it. It's so weird. I can't see the other end of the ribbons - how far they go. where they're attached, nothing. And sometimes it's fine, because sometimes I can hardly feel them. I can forget about them for days at a time, weeks, months if I'm lucky. But then other times I can feel them like, pulling at me. It's freaking spooky, to have something pulling at you from somewhere you can't see. I can't tell if it's pulling me toward whatever it is? Or if it's trying to warn me? Or if I'm just insane??

Does that make sense? Does anybody else feel that way? (she asks into the void)

So idk I guess this ribbons-feeling is why I'm really careful all the time. Like I'm just a careful person. Charlie tried to give me a hard time about it, and I can't be like "I don't wanna pull back in the ribbons too hard without realizing it and wreck something!" because he'd be like "WTF Marin, do we need to get you help?" But also, more and more, I want to be the opposite of careful. I want to take a pair of comically oversized scissors and cut the ribbons into so many pieces that nobody can even tell what they are any more.

I don't know why I'm such a freak, only that I am. I don't know why I can't leave 7 Monolith, only that I can't. But there must be a reason, even if I can't see it, and I feel like it makes sense that the ribbons-feeling is part of that reason, right?

There's just a lot.

January 15, 2019

Happy new year! Lol I forgot to write on the actual first day of 2019, but OH WELL!

I got this new glitter nail polish, thanks to the monthly makeup subscription box my "mom" sends me as an outlet for her abandonment guilt. It has like, every color glitter imaginable without quite reading as "rainbow" which is fine just not really what I was in the mood for and it's vaguely halographic and shifts into all these different colors depending on the light. I'm obsessed. Anyway.

I was putting on another layer because I chipped it like 20 minutes into wearing it, and all of a sudden I had this feeling like I recognized the glitter? Like I felt this thing way deep in my gut and for a minute I couldn't breathe. It's the closest thing I've felt to how books and movies make Christmas look. Like I was home, with family, cookies and cider and all that stuff. Familiar and safe. I almost didn't recognize that feeling. And it came from the nail polish. How weird is that.

I mean, I don't want to make it sound like I've had this awful Charles Dickens childhood - Rose and Charlie are the best ever and always there for me and I love them a lot. But things never feel like...home. You know?

My mom always says this cryptic stuff about how I'm "special" and I wanna strangle her because I'm not, but you try getting my mom to stop doing anything she wants to do. Rose told me once that one day, I would "lead the charge into a new era of existence and access" because I'm "of the Source" and I was like uhhhh okay?? Charlie mostly treats me pretty normal, except when I ask him questions about our family. my mom or any Dram. He knows that I want to know more about them and he's my only real entrypoint, but apparently he's like the black sheep of that whole family. He and my mom were close way back right before I was born, but now whenever she comes to visit he barely even looks at her.

So that's to say: nobody tells me anything, ever.

January 16, 2019

Okay this is so weird. I wrote that entry yesterday about glitter and then last night I dreamed about glitter. Then I woke up with purple glitter in my bed?? Like not a lot, so at first I thought it was from my nail polish, but it was just a handful of purely purple glitter that looks nothing like my nail polish. SO WEIRD!!!!!!

February 14, 2019

Rose has an old book full of "ye olde" style fairy tales, and I flipped through it for the first time in forever today.

Not so weirdly, I've always been drawn to the story of Rapunzel.

Rapunzel couldn't leave the tower, or else she'd break her neck and die.

Same.

February 19, 2019

I was reading this article the other day in one of the teen magazines my "mom" gets me a subscription to and it was all about body positivity, which is great, but it was basically just like "wear a crop top if you wannna wear a crop top! it doesn't matter what size you are! You go, girl!" And like, sure. Yes. I am all for that. But doesn't it seem like there are some steps missing in there? Like, I can physically put on a crop top and wear it outside. But how do I convince myself that everybody isn't looking at me and making fun of me in their minds? How do I unlearn the last almost-fifteen years? How do I get actually positive about my body, not just put on a crop top and fight the urge to cry all day?

It's the same thing like when my mom sends me brochures from the CEO camp she ten when she was my age (her dad started the camp for her, which is an insane thing just by itself, but she did all the work, which is even more insane) and she's like "Marin, you lack direction for your life" and I'm like, cool mom. Yeah. I can see that. What I can't see is how to get there from here.

March 2, 2019

This is what I want my life to look like, volume 2:

The walls of my room are covered in Polaroids of me and my friends. There are lots of mirrors in all kinds of shapes. hearts and moons and stars. There's a record player and a lot of vintage records by Billie Holiday and Lena Horne and Peggy Lee and Nina Simone. And Christmas lights! Everywhere! Lots of of pink and purple Christmas lights everywhere.

If I lived in this room, I'd have so many friends and be part of so many clubs. My best friend would have a collection of vintage cameras, and every place we go to that has a photo booth, we'd get photos taken. Every time I'd look at myself in one of those mirrors, I'd feel happy at what I see and never weird or sad. (Jesse hates taking pictures, so even when I actually do normal stuff with her there's no evidence. What even is a life supposed to be without evidence? That's not an actual question you need to answer Jesse, it's just a question)

Anyway, if I lived in this kind of room, my mom would probably be like, an art history professor at a liberal arts college. That's how come everything looks so cool, because I would know stuff about art. My mom and I would love to try new recipes together. We get each other new cookbooks for every special occasion, and right now we're working out way through a Moroccan one. Moroccan Mondays.

In actuality, there's a dust storm happening outside and my eyes sting.

March 9, 2019

Here's what I'm obsessed with lately.

Can. You. EVEN???

February 3, 2020

Omg I totally forgot this blog existed!!

I lost the password and instead of just resetting it I got in one of my super stubborn moods (Taurus moon lol) and just kept putting in guesses and jokes on me, it locked me out. Anyway, that's a boring story.

But my friend Ximena is really good at hacking and stuff, so she got me back in. Yeah you read that right - I have friends. Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Ximena moved out here a couple months ago (X's family used to live here but they moved away a while ago) and she introduced me to Lora who I sorta-not-really already knew, and Jesse and I have been hanging out with them a ton. Jesse kind of more than me. Which is fine!!

Anyway I'm 15 now? If I lived somewhere normal I'd be psyched about almost being 16, because I'd get a car and have a Sweet Sixteen and eat a huge PINK cake, but I don't!

February 16, 2020

I read this fanfic the other night that was written in the second person so everything was like "you." "you're doing this" etc you know?

So... You go to a drive-in movie with Heartthrob Boy, and he spills soda on you by accident. And you take off your shirt ( you have a tank top on, don't worry) to clean it up, bit you're still all sticky and self-conscious about being sticky and HTB like... used his tongue to get it off??? AAHHHHH I'M DISGUSTING

but also I wonder if a boy will ever touch any part of me with his tongue

March 2, 2020

Hi I don't know if you heard but I have friends :)))

March 15, 2020

I think I'm so into painting my nails and doing my hair because those are things that always fit. I don't have to worry about places not carrying about a size 8, or places that carry XLs but when you read the measurements they're actually size 8s too and it's like jesus if that's an XL what am I

My "mom" was confused why I needed new pants because mine still look new, but I showed her the thigh holes and she was like "that's a weird place for a hole, how did that happen" and I realized that when your legs are a certain size, you just don't know about thigh rub and what it does to clothes. Pants could just last for years.

No matter what, I can paint my nails with a different color nail polish on every finger, and I can always do a braid crown. And I know I'm cute as hell, etc, so this is not a Marin Needs to Learn to Love Herself thing. It's just an UGH thing

April 17, 2020

So Rose does all these Source experiments on plants and flowers and stuff. Tbh, it's just one if those things I hardly even register anymore because it's just always there. She's explained to me a million times what Source is/does/means, but the way Rose explains things sometimes is just a LOT to take in and she refers to me as a "child of Source" but I kinda figure that's like "child of God" right? What else would that mean?

But anyway, it's really annoying because dried flowers are a part of my new aesthetic and I pinned a bunch of them up on my wall but I woke up this morning to a freaking jungle of very alive flowers. I freaked out. on Rose, and she Rose said she didn't do it and I was like WELL THEN WHO DID and she said that I did??

Which like. Obviously that doesn't make sense. I asked her what she meant and She just shook her head and said " It's happening. We should have known" which is some horror movie shit that she refused to elaborate on. I love to feel safe and normal!!

Or maybe it's not a horror movie at all. But maybe it's a superhero movie? Maybe there's some kind of origin story I don't know about yet, and all of this will be worth it once I figure out my powers. I wonder what my costume will look like. Lol.

April 23, 2020

Is it possible to die from longing? I know that sounds melodramatic, but I'm also kinda serious?? Because it seems like one of those things that could fester and get infected and kill you. It's like when you fall down and bang up your knee, and you need to put a band-aid on the scrape for a while, but THEN you need to air it out - but how do you know when you're supposed to do each one of those things? And if you do either one too much, your knee gets infected. What if I smother my heart with band-aids for too long and it gets infected? This isn't about anybody. I just keep having these dreams about someone I never expected to have dreams about and they're so intense that they keep leaking into my life and I wonder if I need to do something about them.

May 2, 2020

So Jesse's gotten really into metal music, and I tried to get her to play me something since, AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED, that's what we've literally ALWAYS DONE with music and each other, and she kinda looked at Ximena out of the corner of her eye and said like "I don't think it's really your thing" And it was the meanest thing anybody's ever said to me.

So later I looked up Zenion, the band she was talking about, and I listened to every single fucking song they've ever recorded turned up as loud as it could go with my own headphones that are better than hers anyway, and I loved it. And I didn't love it just because she said I wouldn't. I loved it because it was loud and weird and wild and when I listened to it it made me feel like it's not crazy when so feel stuff so hard it's like my heart's gonna vibrate out of my body. And I would have told Jesse all this and we could have shared it, but I guess she thinks just because I like HTB and glitter and stuff, I don't have the capacity for anything else.

She clearly doesn't know me at all. So much for any kind of whatever, why would she ever want to kiss someone she clearly sees as like a stupid baby.

May 7, 2020

The dreams are getting weirder and they're happening more. I'm getting scared to go to sleep. Not that the dreams are always scary (they almost never are, or not scary like in a typically scary horror movie way). I mean, I've only ever been me. I don't know what other peoples' dreams are like.

The other night in one I was jumping on a trampoline, which is something I've never done in real life. I told Rose about it when I woke up, and she said "do you even know how to jump on a trampoline?" and I said "Rose, it's not like riding a bike. You don't have to learn. You just jump." and then we got into this whole thing about how some things we just know, and jumping's one of them, and how that's so weird. Sometimes I really like talking to Rose about stuff.

May 19, 2020

So, it's prom season in the real world. If I lived somewhere normal, my prom dress would be pink with lots of tulle and silk flowers at the shoulders, and it would fit perfectly and trying in dresses would be fun and not anxiety-inducing.

But since there are only like 10 teenagers currently in 7MV, were not having a homecoming. Cool.

May 27, 2020

So, mom came to visit this weekend, and I asked her about her prom. She was Typical Cecelia at first, very "Prom is a waste of time and money, Marin. It's a night when lesser people play dress-up to engage with their aspirations of grandeur." And I was like eyeroll forever and just stopped talking. BUT THEN she actually talked to me like a human being. She was like, "I actually didn't go to my prom" and when I asked her why she said that she didn't have a date, and was very self-conscious about it. I almost passed out at her admitting that she's ever been anything less than perfect.

(gonna continue this in reblog)

[helladirections]

The End of June

A/N: This is my submission for the Summer Feeling Challenge! I was hoping to have the entire thing ready by now, but unfortunately this project has taken a back seat over the past month. I’m still super excited to share this extended preview of the first 2.5k words with you all! Thanks as always to my team @real-work-of-art and @fromyourstrulyh, and special dedication to the summer camp I went to for 11 years, where I had my first kiss and someone first explained to me what a blow job was. This fic is entirely self indulgent and I’m ok with that. 

Author: @helladirections​ Pairing: Harry x y/n Status: Extended Preview Word Count: 2.5k

MASTERLIST | PATREON

Summary:

Harry as Y/N’s close friend from camp, Y/N as the camp counselor trying to trick her tween campers into thinking she’s cool. Tween campers as the matchmaker between the cute boy counselor and their favorite girl counselor because getting your counselors to date each other is the most important thing to a twelve year old. And maybe Y/N has a few camp bucket list items that Harry can help out with too.

Read the first 2.5k words below. Full length fic coming soon. 

Harry was the perfect camp counselor. He was fun, energetic, played the guitar. Plus the kids loved him. Not only was he so completely charming that everyone wanted to be his friend, but he had the most beautiful British accent which made everyone stop and listen. Also, he was cute. 

Harry was cute. His deep green eyes which always looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world, his chocolate brown curls, often disheveled from a long day’s work. And then there were his muscles, his honey-golden skin which only tanned more as the summer went on, and his tattoos. Those damn tattoos which made Y/N dizzy if she thought about them too much.

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, Harry was the cute counselor. Not just the cutest male counselor assigned to this age group, but genuinely the cutest male counselor in the whole camp for the whole summer. Even before campers arrived he had other staff falling all over him. 

Y/N had known Harry for years, and it’s not like his effect had worn off per say, more that she exhausted all of her energy fawning over him quickly and decided to redirect her attention elsewhere - to their friendship. Harry’s aunt had gone to camp in the States back in the day, and so each summer she insisted that his parents ship him out and follow in her footsteps. So for the past decade or so Y/N and Harry had been in the same age group, growing up with each other for a few weeks at a time. 

So she was thrilled when she found out that even though she was stuck with one of the most difficult age groups, at the very least she would be working with Harry. It meant they could actually hang out and spend quality time together while working. Plus, when he talked, all the campers stopped to listen, no matter how slowly his words dripped out of his mouth. And his status as the cute counselor definitely made her cooler in the campers’ eyes for hanging out with him. So it was a winning situation all the way around. 

Eleven and twelve year olds were a handful. Y/N knew going into the summer that she might be assigned this age group, considering they were one of the most difficult to handle and she was one of the most experienced camp counselors. But still, she had silently hoped that after two years on staff she would be rewarded with the teens. Not that teens didn’t have their own issues - she knew from experience that the saying “big kids, big problems” held a lot of truth. But middle schoolers? They were a whole other ball game.

Those who had started puberty had the hormones of the teens, with the knowledge and expectations of a child. Those who hadn’t yet felt the pressure. They needed to be reminded to brush their teeth and their hair but also couldn't be left alone for too long or they might start kissing each other in broad daylight. They were obsessed with each other in the way that only eleven and twelve year olds can be. They were also obsessed with the counselors. 

One counselor, in particular. And honestly, Y/N couldn’t blame them. 

Y/N and Harry were sitting under the shade of the overhang during pool time one day, chatting at a reasonable distance away from the kids when Harry had the idea. When he first suggested it, Y/N almost spit out the sip of water she had just taken from her water bottle. But he looked at her completely seriously. 

“Really? Question time? With kids this young?” she challenged him.

Harry just shrugged, turning to look towards the campers. Half of them were still enjoying the pool, but the other half were already pretending to be too cool for it and instead sat around the edges gossiping with one another or playing cards.

“Why not? M’boys might not be ready for it, but the girls,” he nodded his head towards five or six of them sitting in the corner giggling about something. “I’m sure they’d love it.” 

Y/N mulled it over. She had ten campers in her cabin, half of them eleven and half of them twelve. They would definitely be excited about it. Especially if it was Harry coming in to do it. The best kind of “ask a counselor anything” was always “ask a boy counselor anything,” Y/N remembered from her own experience as a camper for all those years. 

“Alright,” she finally relented. “I mean, we didn’t have an activity planned for cabin time tonight, so might as well.” 

Harry smiled back at her. 

“Don’t want to do a switch night though,” she clarified. “Like, I’ll go do one with your boys but a different night. I know a couple of mine don't want to be left alone.” 

He shrugged. “That’s fair. Y’little one always struck me as quite shy.” 

“Oh no,” she laughed. “She’s the most rambunctious of the bunch. Did I tell you what we caught her planning the other day?” 

The conversation continued like that for a while longer, with each of them sharing their funniest stories of their campers from the past few days. All the while Y/N was working on a complicated friendship bracelet and Harry was decorating the back of his clipboard with Sharpies, and none of the kids seemed bothered to interrupt. 

Not long after, the lifeguard blew his whistle, driving the kids out of the pool and towards their next activity. It was the second week of camp now, so they knew the usual routine. They went back to their cabins after pool time to take showers, some of the girls changing clothes even if they didn’t swim just because trading t shirts with each other was fun. 

The whole camp ate dinner in the dining hall (tacos, for the sixth time that summer already). A few of Harry’s boys chose that night to be picky about their food, so he made a great show of enjoying his. Y/N saw him from a few tables away, his eyebrows high, smiling as he chewed his dinner and pointed towards it with fake glee. It seemed to work - she saw a few of the boys take a bite after him.

After dinner the younger half of camp went to the amphitheater for a song session. Y/N and Harry’s campers were the oldest of ‘junior camp’, and nearly all of them felt they were now far too cool to be singing and dancing with the eight year olds. The main part of the day wrapped up with their daily age-group fun program - tonight it was Capture The Flag.  Finished up with a closing circle and then off to cabins to change into pjs, do cabin time, and go to bed.

But as soon as Y/N and her campers got back to their cabin, she made an announcement. 

“Redwood cabin!” she called out to get their attention. “You can change into your pjs if you’d like, but if you are a person who wears a bra you should keep your bra on. Also please clean up the floor a bit, we’re going to have a guest tonight!” 

The girls immediately started giggling and chatting, trying to guess who was going to be joining them. Was it their favorite songleader to come and sing lullabies? Was it one of the upper staff who would give them some kind of a lecture? Was it older campers to teach them some kind of activity?”

“You’re all wrong!” one of them called out. “It’s obviously going to be a boy. I mean, why else would she say to keep our bras on?” 

“Ooh, is it that cute boy from Pine cabin?” one of them ran up and asked.

Y/N just chuckled. “I’m not telling, it’s a surprise. Now go clean up and get ready.” 

The campers followed her directions for the most part before sitting down in a circle on the floor at the center of their cabin. Y/N sat in front of them on her bed, checking her watch. Harry should be getting there any minute now. How long could it possibly take him to get his boys ready for bed and hand them off to a counselor-in-training? 

It was sweet, the way the girls were all jittery and excited without even knowing what was in store. Y/N remembered fondly nights exactly like this when she was their age. Sure camp taught her how to climb trees and tie-dye shirts and sing new songs, but the untold truth was that camp was the perfect place to learn about boys and kissing and dating and when she was just a year or two older than her current campers she fondly remembers a girl telling her about blow jobs. It seemed so grotesque at the time - boys don’t even wipe when they pee, why would she want to put that in her mouth? 

Finally a knock at the door.

“Hello? Yeh all decent?” Harry called from the other side of the cabin’s door. 

The girls all shrieked.

“Yeah, come on in,” Y/N called out. 

Harry walked in, ducking his head to make it through the barrier which had been originally built likely in the 1930s and hardly upgraded since. When he looked up and made eye contact with her, Y/N couldn’t help but notice how bright his deep green eyes looked, even after a long exhausting day of being a camp counselor. He had on a pair of worn out jeans and a t shirt which showed off his arms nicely. If she didn’t know any better, Y/N would’ve said it wasn’t just the campers with butterflies in their tummies.

He made his way over to the center of the cabin and sat down on Y/N’s bed next to her. The girls were all smiling and whispering to each other. 

“Alright ladies,” Harry started. All the campers quieted down, looking directly at him like whatever came out of his mouth was going to be the most important thing in the world. “I’m here tonight to do a question time. Ask m’anything you want. Can ask about me, or about boys, or about camp, or about school. Whatever’s on y’minds, alright?” 

He smirked, looking over to Y/N next to him. The area was small and their shoulders and legs were touching. It was almost surreal seeing him there - on her bed. A place that most of the staff and lots of the campers had probably dreamt of him being. 

A few girls raised their hands to start asking questions, and Harry called on them one at a time. They started rather innocent.

“What’s your middle name?”

“Edward.”

“How many years have you come to camp?”

“This would be m’tenth.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

But it wasn’t long before they strayed... 

“What color is your underwear right now?”

“Blue.”

“Boxers or briefs?”

“Do y’even know what the difference is? Anyway boxer-briefs.” 

“How old were you when you had your first kiss?”

“Hmm...” he paused. “Think I was about thirteen. Happened here at camp actually, out behind the Oak cabin if m’not mistaken.”

“Ooh tell us the story!” 

Harry smiled, looking over towards Y/N. He opened his mouth to speak but one of the girls interrupted him.

“Oh was Y/N your first kiss?!?!?” 

Harry chuckled. “No, no. But she was kind of there, if I remember correctly.”

Y/N nodded at the memory.

“Was with this girl named Sarah. Thought she was quite cute so I gave her the pot I made in art elective. Sat next to her at every meal for three days, too. Finally she slipped a message to me to meet her outside behind her cabin at midnight, when she thought her counselors would be gone. So me and m’friend snuck out of our cabin and met her. When we got there she had a friend with her, so our two friends walked a little bit away. Was quite awkward, but she was sweet.”

“I was in the cabin,” Y/N clarified. “But we were all staring out the window.” 

“And your counselors were asleep?”

Harry laughed again. “No, we underestimated how late they would stay up. Got caught red handed, we did.” 

The campers laughed. 

“But I want yeh to know, it’s ok if you’re a lot older before you have your first kiss, or younger, or however old. The most important thing is that it’s a good experience, right Y/N?” 

He looked over at her for reassurance and she nodded. 

“How old were you?” 

“Hey now, that’s for another night. This is Harry’s question time, not mine,” she teased back at her camper. 

“Harry, do you have a girlfriend?” 

He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. Y/N knew the question must be difficult for him. He’d been dating a girl back in London for about six months when he heard back that he had been hired to work at camp. She didn’t want to come with him. She didn’t want to do long distance. She didn’t want him to leave. 

Harry called Y/N out of the blue one day - well it was the middle of the night for him, that’s why he said he called her instead of a friend in London. He said he didn’t want to wake anyone up. And he wanted to know what she thought, since she was his best girl camp friend. And she was honest with him. 

Look H, I can’t tell you what to do. But I want you to be happy and I know I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re on a hike to the hidden campsite. And someone who really loves you should also want you to be happy. But I don’t know. Maybe you’re happier with her and I just haven’t seen it. Just... do what makes you happy H, yeah? 

He broke up with her the next day and called Y/N in a blubbering mess. 

“No, no I don’t,” he answered softly.

“You should date Y/N!” one of the younger ones called out without missing a beat. 

Y/N felt herself blushing, but she wasn’t sure why. Campers always wanted their counselors to date each other. And it wasn’t the first time someone had suggested it to the two of them. But he was sitting close to her, legs and arms touching, lounging on top of her favorite blanket. It had been a while since she had even thought about it, honestly. He was too good of a friend at this point, wasn’t he? 

Harry flashed her a toothy smile, and if she didn’t know any better, Y/N wouldn’t sworn she saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

asdfasda

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter fourteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

“A bit higher.” 

Beca pushed the small mountain-shaped shelf an inch higher, looking over her shoulder as she held it. “Like that?” 

Chloe nodded, smiling. “Perfect.” She walked over and handed Beca the drill, watching as she skillfully made a hole into the wall and inserted a dowel. “I didn’t know you were handy with tools.” 

Beca snickered. “Basic things only.” She twisted the screw in and hung the shelf, taking a few steps back to observe her work. “That looks cute.” 

Chloe glanced around the room, nodding as she absent-mindedly rubbed her belly. She had just reached thirty weeks, and Bean’s arrival was scarily close. The nursery was coming along nicely, the crib having just been delivered today, while the rest was pretty much done. 

The closet was full of onesies, tops, pants and a few dresses, swaddles, blankets, and loveys, and the dark oak changing table (matching the yet to be assembled crib) was stocked up with diapers, wipes, bodysuits, and a variety of creams and oils. 

Chloe had channeled her stress into reading as much as she could about newborns, what to do and not do, and while she had experience with babies from back when she was a teenager, she was relieved not to be doing this on her own.

“It does,” Chloe agreed, loving the subtle woodland theme she went for and all the love they poured into making this safe place for Bean. “It’s really cozy.” 

“Alright, now onto the big project,” Beca said, nodding towards the large package laying on the floor. “You’ll get to see how limited my knowledge of tools really is.” 

Chloe laughed and helped take the different parts of the cribs out of the box, then headed into the kitchen to get them some refreshments. 

The last six weeks had been really good. The Bellas welcoming her back with open arms had definitely helped with Chloe’s recovery, and her talk with Beca, that promise that she would wait for her to be ready filled Chloe with a renewed sense of self-worth and made her fall in love with Beca a little bit more. 

Chloe was now just over six months sober. The nagging for booze and snow sat somewhere at the back of the brain, and she doubted it would ever go away, but she was getting better at not listening to it. 

She stifled a laugh at the sight of Beca looking awfully perplexed by the instructions when she walked back into the room. “You good?” 

Beca chuckled. “Yeah. Just trying to make sense of this.” She glanced up to Chloe, accepting the glass of homemade lemonade with a smile and setting it beside her. 

“They sent us two baby monitors?” Chloe asked as she sat on the floor, noticing the two exact same boxes. They had ordered a bunch of stuff from the same website, and quite a few boxes had come with the crib while Chloe was at her NA meeting, and Beca had put everything in the nursery. “We only ordered one.” 

“No, um, I figured one more would be handy,” Beca said as she picked up one of the crib ends and two of the four legs, along with four bolts. “So I hear Bean when she cries at night, too.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can take care of nights. I don’t want your whole sleeping rhythm to be thrown off because of Bean, you’ve got work, too.” 

“I know, but I’m concerned the lack of sleep might mess up with your recovery if you handle it on your own. I’ve read some horror stories about some babies waking up every few hours and that for six months.” Her focus shifted from the crib assembling to Chloe. “I meant what I said when I told you you wouldn’t be on your own with this. But I don’t want to overstep either, so I want you to tell me if you need me to back up a little. I promise I won’t be upset.” 

Chloe’s heart swelled with more love. She didn’t know why she kept being surprised every time Beca showed her how dedicated to the both of them she was. Still, she felt a little guilty for disrupting Beca’s routine, but she knew Beca was right. 

“You’re not overstepping,” Chloe assured her, softly. “And I want you guys to bond, so I think you taking care of her without me might be a great way to do that.”

“Okay,” Beca murmured, smiling as she went back to her task at hand. “The label already knows I’m taking two months off once she’s born, so I’m around to help out. Maybe she’ll sleep through the night by the time I have to head back.” 

Chloe chuckled. “We can always dream.” She cleared her throat. “I was also thinking about Bean’s guardians, in case something happens to me, and I’d like for you to be one of them.” 

Beca paused mid-screwing in a bolt and met Chloe’s gaze. It was clear she was moved, and it made Chloe smile. “Of course. I’d be honored.” 

“Aubrey will be the other guardian, just so you know. So if I die, you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.” 

Beca’s nose wrinkled. “Is it too late to backtrack?” She asked with a soft laugh. Chloe knew she was just joking, as she and Aubrey got on really well, now. “I think Aubrey is a great pick. At least I know I won’t have to be the bad cop. But let’s hope she and I never have to be Bean’s guardians. I’m good with just being the cool aunt.”

The crib was easier to put together than they had originally thought. It only took Beca forty-five minutes, and once it was all done, Chloe grabbed the mattress and set it inside.

“It’s just missing one thing,” Beca said, casting Chloe a smile before she left the room, coming back a minute later. “Close your eyes.” 

Chloe did so, and it sounded like Beca was fumbling with something by the crib. 

“Okay, open them now.” 

Chloe let out a soft gasp at the sight of the animal mobile set up above the crib. A fox surrounded by mountains and clouds. “Beca…” 

“I wanted to get Bean a gift, and you mentioned an animal mobile, so I had this custom made with a friend of a friend.” 

“It’s perfect,” Chloe whispered, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. She was used to crying over the smallest of things by now that she wasn’t embarrassed anymore. Wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist, she leaned her head over her shoulder, basking in the warmth and peace being in close proximity with Beca brought her. 

“I think so, too,” Beca murmured, her own arm coming up to wrap around Chloe’s back as she brushed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

*

Summer chilled to fall over the following week. Chloe was thankful for the cooler temperatures, as her body felt like a furnace on its own, she didn’t need any additional heat. Now thirty-one weeks, she had started to waddle, much to Beca’s amusement, it seemed, even if she only claimed to find it adorable. She also got winded after walking up a single flight of stairs and was insanely grateful for the elevator in Beca’s building. 

Hanging a left when it reached the right floor, Chloe headed down the hallway, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and sliding them into the lock. 

“SURPRISE!” 

Chloe jolted slightly, her hand shooting up to her chest in shock. Most of the Bellas stood in Beca’s decorated living-room, beaming at her. Above them hung a cute oh baby banner and a table was laid out with various snacks and a cake. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” She exclaimed as soon as she regained her composure, stepping further inside to hug each one of her friends tightly. “Did you do all this?” She asked when she got to Beca, awe leaking in her tone.

“Aubrey helped,” Beca said, nodding towards the blonde standing to her right. 

“Thank you,” Chloe murmured as she pulled away, embracing Aubrey next. It had taken some time for them to find their way back to how they used to be after so many years apart, and Chloe was so grateful Aubrey gave her a second chance. “Love you, Bree.” 

“Love you, too.” 

The afternoon was filled with fun activities such as onesie decorating, a Name that Tune game with songs that had the word baby in it, and a cupcake decorating contest. Towards the end of the day, Chloe was coaxed into opening the girls’ present, starting with the one Jessica set in her lap. 

“This is from all of us,” she said, smiling as Chloe peered into the bag. 

She fished the item out, her heart bursting in her chest as she unfolded the blue and gold onesie which bore the Barden Bella B. “Oh… I love it. Thank you.” 

The girls definitely spoiled Bean, gifting Chloe with a bunch of adorable onesies, animal stuffies, mittens, swaddles, a bear winter jumpsuit for those freezing days ahead of them, and an expensive-looking electric swing.

“This is too much,” she croaked out once she had unwrapped the large box, shaking her head in disbelief as the girls simply waved her concern off. 

“Oh, that’s from your parents,” Beca chimed in as Chloe reached for the second-to-last present. 

Tears pooled in her eyes (she had honestly lost track of how many times she’d cried in the last couple of hours) as she took the familiar item out of the bag. “It’s my baby blanket,” she told the girls as she unfolded the mustard blanket her mom had knitted while she was pregnant with her. She traced the name she had picked for her baby girl, which her mom had added in white lettering in a corner. Chloe smiled as she brought it to her nose; it smelled like home. 

The last gift was a pampering kit for Chloe, as well as a few items she would need for after labor. 

“I learned some stuff about childbirth that I wish I’d never known while looking for items to add to this,” Amy said with a grimace, drawing a giggle from Chloe. “I didn’t know things could tear like that down below.” 

Chloe winced along with the rest of the Bellas, her chuckle coming out strained. “Thanks, Amy.” 

Beca ordered pizzas for everyone, and the girls stuck around until nine pm, helping to clean up the living-room before they left. Chloe changed into her pajamas and made herself some herbal tea for her and Beca, joining her on the couch. 

“You okay?” Beca asked as she took one of the mugs from Chloe. 

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. “Thank you for today. It was so nice to see the girls again. I’m really lucky.” 

“You’re welcome, Chlo.” She motioned towards her lap. “C’mon, hand me those feet.” 

Chloe giggled, setting her feet on Beca’s thighs and biting back a moan as she started kneading the sole of her right foot. It had become a sort of a ritual these past few weeks, for Beca to give Chloe a foot rub while they chilled on the couch after dinner. “Am I going to lose those privileges once I’m no longer pregnant?” She teased. 

Beca smirked. “We’ll see.”

“I heard back from my old vet school, this morning,” Chloe said, following a few minutes of comfortable silence. She had been communicating back and forth with the advisor over there, who finally heard back from the head of the department. “Since I did two years of vet school already, I’d only have to do one more year to become a vet tech. They offered for me to jump into the school year in January, but that feels a little too soon after Bean gets here, so I think I’ll wait until September next year,” she explained as she rubbed her bump. “But I definitely plan on getting a part-time job waitressing or something by next spring, as soon as Bean is old enough go to daycare.” 

Finding a good daycare with availability had been a headache, but Chloe had luckily found a spot at the one she had set her eyes on in the neighborhood. 

“That’s great news,” Beca mused aloud, smiling. “I’m proud of you.” 

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, Bec,” Chloe murmured, returning her smile. A groan flitted past her lips a second later. “Ugh, I need to pee again.” 

Beca chuckled as Chloe heaved herself to her feet and waddled to the bathroom. She had just shut the door behind her when a sharp pain in her lower belly made her double over, her hand shooting out to grip the counter while the other one cradled her bump. 

Panic gripped her insides as she slowly straightened when her head stopped spinning, letting go of her stomach to dip her hand past the waistband of her sweatpants. Her fingers met something warm and sticky, and Chloe’s heart lurched to her throat when she pulled them out, eyes zeroing on the blood. 

“No, no, no,” she muttered to herself, forcing down the lump forming in her throat with a hard swallow. She called Beca’s name, her voice wavering as tears rose to her eyes. 

“What’s wrong??” Beca rushed out as she rounded the corner, the sight before her answering her own question. Her eyes widened, and she paled, freezing for a couple of seconds before setting into motion. “I’m taking you to the ER. I’ll grab your shoes and coat.” 

Chloe gave a faint nod even though she wasn’t sure she registered Beca’s words. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor while Beca’s hurried steps faded. She couldn’t move. She kept staring at her bloodied hand as the most dreaded, terrible, gut-wrenching feeling seized her entire being. 

“I can’t--” she found herself saying when Beca appeared in her line of vision. The air got stuck in her throat before it could reach her lungs, just as her words died before it reached her tongue. She couldn’t lose her baby. “Bec.” 

“I know,” Beca murmured as she helped Chloe slip her jacket on. Her own hands were shaking. She bent down to guide Chloe’s feet into her sneakers, one by one, then grabbed a towel from the cupboard under the sink. 

Another cramp made Chloe cry out, and she felt more blood seeping out of her, in a greater amount this time around. She felt it dripping down her legs and choked on a sob, clutching at her stomach. 

The elevator ride and walk to the car was a blur, and Chloe found herself blankly staring out the window as Beca rushed to the hospital, hoping with all her might that her baby would be okay.

[vampiresuns]

Look After Your Dead, Part 2 | Prologue, Part 4

✴︎ LOOK AFTER YOUR DEAD, PART 2 ✴︎

4.9k words. In which Anatole’s past catches up to him. CWs: Discussions of memory loss and amnesia, feelings of depression and inadequacy. There’s also a lot of talks of displacement, land and family. The writer gets a little too close to existentialism.

This piece introduces some of my ocs for the first time in an official rewrite: say hello to Leonore Kaur, the dastardly counsellor with a penchant for drama, Octavia Rei, the coffee wench by day and playwright by night, roommate of Milenko, and Sabine Rei, her younger sibling, all friends of Anatole.

Featured Radošević-Cassano: Valerius, Milenko, Vlad and Louisa (mentioned).

Other Lore: The ‘Antiqullan’ range is the furthest west end of the Bulan Mountains, were the country of Altazor, featured in Secrets of An Ancient Moon, is located. Louisa is Altazoreña, making Anatole a first generation Altazoreño.

With this piece we reach the last instalment of Anatole’s prologue, however, there’s one more step before the Routes begin: All characters featured here will come back in an interlude.

What to catch up with this series? You can do that here.

Some people couldn’t help being anything but themselves. It did not mean they were rigid, immutable or incapable of change or growth. No person was that way, and those who refused the inherent mutability of life were bound to break. Instead, these people had who they are, whatever they are, as their guiding horizon — a certainty, a principle they could not betray, a truth they couldn’t deny. When their true self called, they had no choice but to answer. Who they are meant to become is bound to unravel, and once it begins manifesting, these people cannot run from it. 

The self can only be repressed for so long. It’s latency is temporary, and these kinds of people understand that. They cannot wear masks, they cannot be anyone other than themselves, whether it was for better or for worse, and their past was bound to catch up to them sooner or later. Anatole was such a person.

It didn’t matter he didn’t remember who he was, because it all existed within him and no matter how much he ran from it, no matter how much circumstance prevented it, his potential would meet him sooner or later. Unknown to him yet, that time was drawing to a close.

Julian had broken into his shop again, which Anatole did not find as surprising as he could’ve. Portia treating him too comfortably, with Nevivic names, was. The way they both pronounced things lingered behind them as Portia dragged him to a nearby alley. Alone in front of his front door, Anatole realised they both pronounced his name ‘Anatoliy’.

Like his father had done the day Anatole had told him that was his name now. 

A father. Had he had a father? Where was he now? In a faraway land or dead by Plague like so many in the City? He felt a ripple of his own magic bubbling inside him, he could feel the warmth of it lace with his fingers. Faint and weak, like a newborn opening their eyes, something told him he had a father. If he concentrated enough he could feel a magical tether pulling him to somewhere. With a frightened heart, he realised this wasn’t the first time in the last three years when he had felt such a tether, but this was the first time the headache wasn’t stronger than the magic. 

Noon chimed over the City and Anatole, realising he had forgotten the Masquerade announcement, had to let it go. 

In the Heart District, a man called Vladislav Elyseo Radošević would grab the arm of his wife, a woman called Louisa Aureliana De Silva, and with tears in his eyes he’d tell her he could swear he had just seen their son standing right in front of him. Somehow. 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The announcement was a lot. Nothing bad happened during it, but Anatole couldn’t shake the feeling he had been there before, in a past he couldn’t remember. This time, he did flirt with a headache when he tried. Whatever magical thread that pulled to him before had seemed to grow into a tree, and the many languages and words of the people in the square hit him all at once.

As soon as he could, he retreated into an emptier corner by the cooler shadows of the marble pillars around the square. A tall person covered with a cloak, their scent myrrh-heavy was also around the corner. They seemed to want to avoid people at all costs, so Anatole gave them berth: sometimes you just wanted to be left alone to your own devices.

Away from the flock of people he began realising how much he had pushed away on the last days, because he had not had a moment to himself. 

With every breath the scent of Myrrh reached his nose. Recognition hit him all at once. He turned his head to the stranger. 

“You were guarding my shop the other morning.”

“I tried to warn you.”

When Anatole spoke again, the stranger turned. He followed them all the way into the market, but when he lost them, he began looking around him, not sure how he ended up in the market at all. Distracted, he collided into a cart as he turned around himself. Someone offered him a hand to stand up — a man with thick black hair that reached his shoulders, pulled away from his face in a half-bun, sparkling dark brown eyes and an easiness to his voice when he spoke, as if the entire world was his friend. 

“Whoa, my guy, you took a pretty nasty fall, are you—” 

The man went completely silent, his mouth hanging half open as Anatole stood before him awkwardly. He cleared his throat.

“I know you just helped me stand up, but are you alright?”

“I’m, I’m, sorry I must be seeing things because you look just like—”

Somewhere behind him, a willowy person with fair skin and purple eyes, short hair accompanied by someone who looked a lot like them but with long, curly hair walked towards the man.

“Hey, Leonore, what happened?” The one with curly hair asked, while the willowy one looked at Anatole and dropped everything they were holding. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Anatole?”

The man who helped him stand, Leonore, shook himself. “It’s okay, Sabine, my guy here just fell, and I’m sure this is a very whacky coincidence since Anatole is d—”

“But my name is Anatole,” he said. Everyone looked at each other in silence. Anatole didn’t know what was happening, all he knew is that these people knew him, he knew nothing of them. He felt one of Asra’s cards tug at him in his pocket. 

“Excuse me, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are and I, I— I have to go.” Before anyone could stop him, Anatole sprinted back to the Main Square.

The first time he felt that pull of recognition, that thread to be followed had been with his own name after he woke up from his ‘accident’. He had tried to ask Asra about it, but he couldn’t remember a time where the magician even tried to address the question. Anatole had asked him about that too, and satisfied with the truth in Asra’s words that it wasn’t about Anatole himself why he couldn’t tell him, he stopped asking. Whatever answer would either never come to him, or he would have to get it himself.

The second time was with Asra himself:  he knew nothing of why or how Asra had become someone important to him, but he knew his was a well-loved face. 

Then it was his aunt, Antupillán, until it was one little thing on top of each other forming a figure which stood in the fog, slipping through Anatole’s fingers every time. His headaches always made him recede, go back to the safety of a cool room with little light coming in. Now, he felt himself in the middle of the fog as Leonore’s face materialised in the same way the magical imprint that he had felt before the announcement, unknowingly connecting him to his parents, almost did earlier that day. 

Anatole was a single boat in the fog, the sound of water around him as the oars moved him towards the direction of that figure standing in it. Like the people of a forgotten town in the Antiqullan forests who themselves had forgotten the name of everything around them, until they became completely still. Anatole rowed forward as names fell back in place and life compelled him to begin again. 

“So you’re Aelius? I’m Leonore Kaur! Medea is also Vesuvian so I could show you two around if you wanna. You don’t mind if I call you my guy, do you, my guy?”

“No, not at all, Leonore Kaur. Though ‘Anatole’ also works, you needn’t just call me by my first name.”

“Leo is fine.”

“No, no, I will use your full name, always, at all times.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

During one of Asra’s travels, Anatole had seen a doctor behind the magician’s back about his memory. The visit was mostly unsatisfactory, except by some referrals and some exercises for when he felt he could almost remember things, but then couldn’t, and the other many moods of the standard amnesiac. Not that the Doctor had called it that, but Anatole had to make a little light-hearted fun at his own condition. It was like his attention and hyperactivity issues. He was going to coexist with it either way, so he better barter with them like old friends. At least on the days they weren’t awfully frustrating.

Hearing Portia describe the Court for him was nothing like that. He shuffled Asra’s deck as he listened, pulling the same cards in rotation: The Lovers, The Hermit, The Tower upright, The Fool, the Queen of Wands, and then Death reversed, Justice reversed, The Tower but reversed this time, Temperance reversed, the Hierophant and the Six of Cups reversed. Over and over again, no matter how many times he shuffled them. 

He couldn’t have explained anything that Portia was telling him now —all the different Court departments and how they were interconnected, who did what and all the gossip she could fit during their ride back to the Palace— but the moment he said it, he knew it, somehow. He shuffled again. The Lovers, The Hermit, The Tower, The Fool, the Queen of Wands, Death, Justice The Tower and Temperance all reversed. The Hierophant seemed undecided in his position, sometimes becoming horizontal without Anatole touching it. 

A card without meaning. A card undecided as Portia mentioned how the Consul’s real name was Valeriy, but everyone called him Valerius like it should be pronounced in the Vesuvian common tongue.

“I had no idea until I saw it on a record! ‘Valeriy of the Cassano of Vesuvia’. With how he acts you’d barely know he is a Cassano, right?”

Portia continued to talk as Anatole shuffled again, determined to do a reading for himself. To what end? He couldn’t say. He just hoped he didn’t pull the same cards as he had been pulling for most of the ride. Portia went on, saying how Consul Valerius was the most important, which didn’t mean he could not pay attention to the others. Anatole did not need Portia to tell him the Consul was the second most important political figure in Vesuvia. 

He shuffled the deck the last time, then cut it. “If the Countess is incapacitated, the Consul rules in absentia, right?”

“That is correct! Wow, I didn’t think I was such a good teacher,” Portia said with a delighted laugh. Anatole smiled softly, as he pulled three cards.

The Hermit, reversed. He had lost his way. But why? When? The Ace of Swords. Maybe he’ll find his answers, maybe he is finding them. Anatole frowned at the cards, he hasn’t found shit. Or perhaps he wasn’t seeing clearly yet. As the carriage came to a halt, he pulled Strength, upright. Only it wasn’t from Asra’s deck, but from his own deck, the one which had belonged to his aunt. In it, a figure cradled a City against their chest, like a nurturing sort of Atlas, as light came from behind them mimicking a golden halo. Strength was focused, unwavering, wise, compassionate. 

How the hell had this card gotten mixed with Asra’s? That was a question for later. 

Had Anatole pulled one more card, he would’ve pulled the Hierophant again. 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The Countess looked at ease, wonderful in the afternoon light as she played the pipe organ. This would be fine, he thought, as Portia introduced him to the weirdest goddamn people he’s ever seen. If you could call them people — Volta, Vlastomill, Vulgora and Valdemar all looked and felt too off. Somehow the too open eyes, the moist skin, the despairing pulls or the sharp teeth weren’t the worst part: it was how their words made Anatole feel.

They triggered his magic, making his stomach drop. Not only were they lying, there was a threat in their words too. Magic that felt like a sharp note reverberating on every wall, on every new word they uttered. 

The only one who still felt human enough was Consul Valerius. 

Anatole had never seen a ghost, but he had read some accounts of necromancers and animancers about the sensory experience of encountering certain presences. It depended on the inclination of the magician, the story with the presence and why some of them may or may not feel like something meant to be encountered. Fate as something one could take or leave, as events which happened regardless of whether one wanted them to happen or not — ghosts where like the truth, Anatole remembered reading from one of them, not up to accommodate one’s expectations. 

Seeing someone who made the same facial expression you did out of shock had to be like seeing a ghost. There was always something terrifyingly vulnerable about recognising oneself in others. Unlike the other moments of recognition Anatole had had through the day, this time, something screamed inside of him, making his head throb. From between the Consul’s feet, Antu scurried towards Anatole.

Antupillán, who followed Anatole like a guide and a support animal. Antupillán, who did not let people who did not know him be near him at all. Yes, he was a friendly and curious Raccoon who engaged with the world around him, not always heeling by Anatole but always close enough. But there was a difference with engagement and sitting by someone who made Anatole’s head throb when he spoke.

He better have an explanation. 

It only got worse. Portia introduced them, but the room had fallen still, the tension palpable as the rest of the Courtiers watched the scene with morbid interest, except for Volta who just looked anguished as she muttered this was all very wrong. Quaestor Valdemar was staring unblinkingly at Consul Valerius, asking him ever so casually if there was anything that was the matter. The Countess looked between them in confusion, and tried to pry anything out of the Consul but he was not speaking. He just stared at Anatole in abject horror.

And was that panic in his voice when he spoke? Very faint, under the viciousness of his words as he demanded an explanation for the presence of such an offensive display? He was motioning at Anatole, rage and fear intertwined as he asked the Countess what sort of sick joke was this. 

The Countess could not explain with anything else than how she had encountered Anatole, as she looked and sounded at loss. 

Once again, his new found automatic pilot habit kicked into place. What he meant to do, was ask the Consul what was so offensive about him, letting him know he did not appreciate the tone or the sentiment from someone he did not know, so if he could please speak clearly. 

What he did instead, though Antu tried to stop him, sounding apologetic and concerned —Why on earth? Anatole half thought in the background of his mind— was walking forward, with a lost and open expression to him, as he screamed at himself to stop. He couldn’t stop. 

Like he was staring at himself from a distance, as if his own ghost was possessing his body. “Valeriy—” 

But the Consul threw him the contents of his glass of wine. “Don’t you dare call me that, you witch.”

The Countess made everyone leave. She dismissed the entire Court without a second thought. The moment they were alone again, Anatole broke down into tears he couldn’t explain. Although the Countess was surprised at first, standing there awkwardly for a moment, she approached Anatole with gentleness, rubbing his back. 

He wasn’t crying about the Consul, not really. He was crying about his fucking headache, and the powerlessness he felt. He knew he oughtn’t push himself into remembering, but he felt it would be all much easier if he did. Recovery was not a smoothly paved road, Anatole knew this, but right then, it was hard to accept. 

“What the hell were you doing with him?” He asked Antupillán, angry and confused. 

The Raccoon didn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry, are you acquainted with Valerius?”

Anatole couldn’t answer that beyond an: “I don’t know.” He didn’t have any explanations, not even to himself. All he had was these unshakable certainties which were starting to materialise, without any mercy for his growing migraine. But he could not speak them yet, he could barely understand them. 

He apologised again. The Countess told him it was no trouble. Her words did not have judgement, just honest, tender concern. 

He felt Antu’s paws slide into his hands.

I must protect my Anatole, like my Anatole has protected me, he said.

Anatole sighed, wiping his tears away with the corner of his sleeve. A corner that wasn’t wine-drenched. “You better have a good reason not to tell me, Antupillán.” 

He grabbed his familiar, plopping him onto his lap. Antu continued to hold his hand. 

“I really am sorry, Countess.”

The Countess looked at him with fondness. “From what I’ve known of you, I think there is little which could make me change my regard for you, Anatole.”

She paused, looking like there was something else she wanted to say. “Why don’t we start by fixing your clothes? Such pettiness in a single Court. Whichever was your connection to the Consul, I am sorry it went sour, but I’m not surprised… he is an acquired taste. I have already taken the liberty with your wardrobe, so please, tell me what would you like and spare no expense.”

“You don’t need to. I really can spell the stains away… though I’d still need a shower.”

“Let me, as your host.”

“How about a compromise?”

“Do tell.”

“Using my own wardrobe as a canvas, we take items from it to replace them. They might not be courtly, but I have always been fussy about clothes. I think it matters what one wears.”

The Countess laughed. “I knew I was right in making you my friend.”

“On one condition.”

“Estate it.”

“You’ll let me pay you back.”

“Humble as ever. Very well, our side project will have to wait, as Portia will escort you to your chambers. Your own garments will be returned, but I think you must allow me to choose an outfit for you. I have the perfect one in mind… I do hope you change your mind about paying me back, you are my guest of honour. You could be more selfish, if you like.”

He smiled at her but did not say anything. Antu jumped out from Anatole’s arms as he stood up to spell-clean his clothes. The Palace staff who did the laundry did not deserve to work extra because of some Courtier’s tantrum. Placing his hands over his chest, he took a deep breath, moving his hands away from him slowly as he did.  In front of his and the Countess’ eyes, the wine left his clothes, floating in the air like blobs Anatole gently deposited in the glass. 

When he took all the stains out, he took a drink from it.

“Can I ask you something else? Do you know what wine this is, beyond well, red?”

“I could have it checked. It’s not from the Palace’s own cellar, I’m afraid the Consul brings his own from his own private cellar in the Palazzo Cassano. That is his family’s seat. From what I understand, the Cassano have been in hold of the Consulship for almost 500 years.” 

Now that he heard the name again, Cassano, he felt like someone had hammered a silver plate which set a mechanism in motion. The words had the same feeling around them as the word ‘Balkovia’ did — home, holding hands with ‘unattainable’. Could it be that he was wrong? That home wasn’t unattainable because the gaping void of missing memories inside him meant he couldn’t reach it, but rather, than he hadn’t remembered yet?

There was only one way to know. He’d face the Consul again. He would as soon as he could.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

There had been a jewel with his change of clothes. An emerald necklace that had traces of Asra’s magic. Traces so strong Anatole could almost pull his friend back to him. He wanted to follow its guiding pull, but it wasn’t a good idea to do it when everyone was roaming around in the Palace still. He waited, and when the halls went quiet he stole out of his room, following Asra’s magic imbued in the necklace until a fountain in the gardens.

He let it drop into the water, watching it fall as the light caught on the faces of the gem, amplified as if the water itself was glimmering. He ran his palm over the water. The magic felt like his own until it stopped: the liquid now a mirror, showing Asra at the other end. 

When Asra noticed him he looked surprised, full of pride and relieved to see him. His laughter was like music, like the sitars of street musicians from other corners of the world. His praise felt warm to Anatole, Asra’s eagerness always did, even when the magician felt like he had said too much —like right now, by calling Anatole a man of light, and a man of words. 

His eagerness to see his friend won over his apprehension. Or perhaps, seeing his friend like he once remembered him, with his Prussian blue shirt with cream white bishop sleeves and ochre yellow pants. “Was it Rumi who said silence is the language of God and everything else is poor translation? Well, you might be the one exception to the rule.”

“If I did this, I did it in silence.”

“Light speaks through you, Nana Banana—”

“Do not call me that.”

“—It always has.”

Anatole wouldn’t have been able to anticipate the turns their conversation would have. It was heavy, filled with the request of honesty, and talk of the things Anatole had gone through. They talked about Nadia, once she had been Asra’s friends, even if he know claimed they were strangers. Anatole asked about justice, and if he could trust her that way. 

“I want to but—”

“But you have a duty to Vesuvians?” Asra said, less heavy than when he was talking about Nadia. Instead, he sounded resigned, like he was starting to let go of a fight he fought out of habit, not because he should or because he’d win it. 

“Asra the City needs justice, but not that justice.”

“I somehow knew you’d say that. You can take the boy out of politics, but not politics out of the boy.”

Anatole blinked. “Was I like this before? You promised to be honest.”

“I did,” the magician sighed. “You were. You were a beacon of hope in a hopeless situation.”

“Well, I most certainly have not been feeling like a beacon lately— I feel, misplaced. Like I know and I don’t know at the same time, like—” Anatole told him everything he had omitted before. Him speaking like he was on automatic pilot, like he could see himself from afar only both the speaker and the spectator were him. He was honest about pulls of magic he had felt through the years but never followed, afraid he’d get lost. He told Asra about the Consul, about so many things he had spoken to the Countess like he knew things he had no way of knowing. Not to that level of depth.

He told him he felt like he had been dead before and now he was being born again, only he didn’t know what kind of living he was supposed to be, while somehow walking with more hope and purpose than he’d suspect himself having. 

He only noticed his eyes welling up with tears when Asra got blurry. “I want to find out myself, but I need to ask: I was not born here was I?”

Asra’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “No. No, you were not… is there something else on your mind? I didn’t think this was the turn the conversation would have.”

“Neither did I…” Anatole dried his tears again. “I’m so fucking tired of crying in front of people.”

“Yeah, you’ve always hated that.”

“Did I know the Consul.”

“Oh, Nana I really can’t answer that. I know I promised—”

Antole took in a sharp breath. “Then answer me this: I was never your apprentice before, was I?”

“Nana, I can’t—”

“Answer the damn question. You promised.”

“No, no you were not. You approached magic differently than I did, but you sometimes made mine look like a joke.”

“Don’t depreciate yourself to compliment me, that’s not how it works. If I can’t do it, then neither can you.”

Asra raised is hands in surrender. “It was, and is still very impressive.”

“Alright, I have one more question. You told me I had an aunt right? Paris, Paris De Silva… Asra did I have parents? Asra I need to know this.”

Asra was quiet for so long, Anatole thought he wasn’t going to reply at all, but before he could get angry Asra steeled himself and spoke again, looking directly into Anatole’s eyes. “You’ll tell me to stop the moment you get a headache, alright?” Anatole agreed. “You did, Nana. You do—”

Anatole heard footsteps and ruffling leaves behind him and turned away from Asra. “There’s someone. I’ll find you again. I love you.”

Without thinking, Anatole drew his hand over the water, making a closing motion and Asra dissipated before he could say anything else. He stood from his spot at the same time a voice he didn’t recognise asked him if he had, perchance, found a self-refilling quill around the fountain. 

“I’m so sorry to disturb you, it is that I finally broke from a very long writer’s block and funnily enough I lost my quill— Anatole?”

As the stranger said his name, Anatole felt one of the heaviest waves of sadness and grief he had ever felt from someone. The man standing before him was dressed head to toe in black, his chesnut curls moving very lightly with the breeze. He snapped out of his shock with a panicked look in his eyes, walking past Anatole fast enough that he could break into a jog as he muttered to himself, frenzied and confused, that this couldn’t be happening again. Anatole tried to help him, but the stranger jumped back as his eyes swelled with tears. 

The man broke into a run, leaving Anatole alone and confused with no other option than going back to his room. 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Once he was alone in his room once again, he cried. He cried until he couldn’t breathe. There was a gaping hollowness inside of him. Something locked away for reasons beyond his comprehension. He stared at his shaking hands, flexing his fingers, trying to anchor himself with the moment. What had happened to him? What had happened to him that he saw people he couldn’t know in his dreams, and friends in the faces of stranges? What had happened to him that one day he had nothing but a mismatched language, latching on his tongue as he asked Asra —who was unable to understand him— a thousand and one questions the magician could not answer. So many questions he could choke on them.

To speak, to exist in language is to exist, and what was he if he could not be spoken? If the faces his hearts conjured for him turned him in horror? If strangers like the man in the fountain walked away from him like he was some unspeakable thing walking on this earth? 

If he laid on the floor and closed his eyes, he could feel the earth calling him, but not how it called the dead. If he focused enough on desintegrating into the earth, he could feel his veins open up and flourish until it carried him back to a city he has never been in before and even further than. It carried it to forests where lakes within lakes lied, and it carried him through the desert into flowers which bloomed despite its dryness. Like a stream turning into a river running to the sea, he was born in the high of the mountains, and the city of the wells surrounded by forests and marshes. 

One thing he knew: Something had happened in Vesuvia. Something had happened to him, in Vesuvia. Something that made part of the flourishing blood of his open veins pull in the middle of the City, layers and layers down into the Earth like a beating heart underneath the floorboards, foreshadowing an encounter which was meant to happen. Anatole could only rise up to meet it.

Even if right now he felt lost and broken he would. His name was the name of the sun, and the sun always rises. He would be spoken, and he would find what happened to him and this City which had cradled him into existing. His blood flowed here for a reason, and he would find out that reason.

Some people can’t help to be anything but themselves. They will do anything in their power to speak that self into existence, even if they spent the rest of their lives on it. When he stood up from the floor to wash his face and go to sleep, he knew he’d find the truth about what happened that night in the Masquerade. He knew because he knew the secret of his own self was intertwined with it, in the same way he did not need Asra’s confirmation to know he had to have known the Consul.

Perhaps he was the figure in the fog, and it was time to reach it to light long forgotten lanterns.

[harrystylesleftkneecap]

New person, same mistakes (1)

This was requested a very long time ago. I disappeared bc school is hard lmao. I’m back and will take requests!

Summary: After losing your parents, you move to the OBX with your cousin to continue your teenage years. The RULE makes for unsteady relationships, and several heartbreaks. 

Warnings: mentions of sex, drug use, abuse, violence , read at your own risk. 

Kie and her family were such angels for letting you come stay with them. After losing your parents, a new way of life was so incredibly refreshing. You were finally finding out who you were. Your aunt and uncle were so accommodating, and Kie made it much easier to make friends.

After a long day on the boat, you were finally stepping off onto steady ground. Your legs were sore, skin burning from the blistering sun, and to say you were dehydrated would be an understatement. The boys only brought alcohol along, and you and Kie had brought along some Capri suns, but ran out halfway through the day. The alcohol was still in your system, and you slowly trotted to the chateau, cooler in hand making the trek no easier.

“Hey, let me get that.” John b spoke, coming to your side. You looked at the brunette boy, his freckles prominent due to the sun exposure.

“Uh, it’s okay John b, I’ve got it.” You sighed, refusing the help of your former flame.

“Seriously, give it here.” He sighed, his hand brushing yours as he took the cooler from your grasp.

You lied there, completely bare with the brunette boy sighing next to you.

“We can’t keep doing this.” John b broke the silence.

You froze, trying to comprehend the words that just fell past his lips.

“W-what?” You said, rising and letting the cover fall exsposing your bare chest.

“Cmon y/n, you know the rule.” He breathed, standing from the bed to put his clothes back on.

“What? The stupid no pogue on pogue macking? You’re really gonna try to enforce that now?” You scoffed, standing to get dressed as well.

John b looked at you, “if the others found out, they would flip. And we’ve been best friends for years. I feel like we should stop while we’re ahead.”

“Seriously? Stop while we’re ahead?” You scoffed, pulling your shoes on “ I’m pretty sure they’ve got a pretty good idea about what’s going on already.”

“Maybe I just want to stop.” He said, making you freeze once again.

You slowly turned to face him, trying your best to keep the tears from spilling over your eyes.

“You want to stop? What happened to love John B? Huh? Was that all a stupid play to get in my fucking pants?” You spoke, your voice raising slightly.

John b shot his hands out towards you, in an effort to keep you calm. “Y/n! They’re outside, don’t wake them up!”

“Whatever John b.” You scoffed, grabbing your things and flinging the door to his room open.

You quickly made your way through the living room, seeing JJ smoking God knows what on the couch.

“Hey, where are you going?” He asked, his face suddenly scrunching in concern as John b came out behind you.

“Home- kie’s- what the fuck ever!” You groaned, finally making your way out of the chateau.

JJ watched as you got in your car, and swiftly drove off, dirt flying up behind your tires.

“John b-“

“Don’t, it’s nothing.” He sighed, dropping his arms to his side and making his way to the fridge.

“Y/n?” You wer suddenly brought out of your thoughts when JJ spoke to you.

John B had long ago made it into the chateau, and you and JJ were the only ones outside.

“Uh yeah, what’s up J?”

“Well you were just kinda standing here, not moving.” He told you.

“Yeah, just, lost in my thoughts I guess.” You stifled a laugh.

He nodded, and the two of you made your way through the thick summer air to the chateau.

Kie always told you that you were too good for John b, he didn’t really know what he had when he had it.

It took months, but you finally got back into the dating game eventually. And so say the other pogues were happy for you would be a lie.

You missed John b, you missed what the two of you had. But you were with someone else now.

Before you entered the chateau, tires crunched onto the rocks, signaling someone pulling into the chateau.

You turned to see the all to familiar car, music blasting for everyone to hear.

You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend stepped out of the car, strolling up to your place on the porch causing JJ to scoff.

You slapped him lightly

“I’m gonna go inside before I kill someone.” He spoke, causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes.

As JJ stepped over the threshold into the small house, your boyfriend wrapped his hands around your waist.

“Hey rafe.” You giggled, turning into his chest and inhaling his woody sent.

“Hey babe.” He sighed, slightly stumbling as he pulled you in even closer.

“Woah, are you okay?” You questioned, tugging away to get a better look at his face.

He was flushed, warm with beads of sweat cascading down his forehead.

“Of course I am babe.” He brushed you off, moving his head to place a rather rough kiss on your neck.

“Rafe, what are you doing? We are literally on John B’s porch.” You spoke, trying to push his heavy weight off your body.

“Cmon baby, let’s go get in the car and I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” He purred, his hands snaking up your bikini top.

“Rafe!” You said loudly, finally mustering the strength to push him off you.

“What’s your deal?” He yelled, shocking you at his sudden outburst.

With wide eyes, you scoffed, “what’s my deal? What’s yours! You’re literally trying to get into my pants on someone’s porch!”

“You don’t want me.” He deadpanned, taking his sunglasses off and running his hands through his hair.

“Of course I want you, just not right now, an-and not on a front porch for Gods sake!” You responded, pulling your face into his hands.

“Rafe,” you questioned, staring into his eyes concern and fear bubbling in your stomach.

“Rafe, are you high right now?” You whispered.

He rolled his eyes, “it doesn’t matter y/n, what matters is you don’t want to have sex with me, you want to break up!” He nearly cried, sitting on the steps with his hands pulling at his hair.

“Baby, of course I want you. But not while you’re high off God knows what! What have you been doing?”

“Just get away from me!” He yelled, swatting his hand at your legs before standing to walk to his car.

You jumped back in surprise, and watched as your boyfriend stalked off to his car before swiftly pulling off onto the street.

You were shocked to say the least, why was he being like this? You gave him every part of you, sometimes when you didn’t even want to. All you wanted to do was please him, make him happy.

You turned to see your friends watching intently from inside, and your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.

You opened the door to silence, other than the light ping of a bottle cap hitting the counter as JJ brought a cool beer to his lips.

“Are you okay?” Kie began.

You scanned the faces in the room, some of concern and others reading disappointment.

“Let’s just go home.” You sighed, turning to begin walking out. Kie said bye to the boys and quickly followed you onto the path.

“What was that?” She questioned, the orange glow from the sun casting beautiful shadows across the water.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, continuing the walk to your home, or, Kie’s home.

You tried calling Rafe a million times that night, laying in bed contemplating what you did wrong. Why did he feel like he needed to use drugs, were you not enough for him, like you weren't enough for John B? 

thankfully, a light knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. A blonde head of messy hair peaked around the corner of you door. 

“Are you dressed?” JJ’s voiced sounded, and you just curled up into your covers more, willing him to go away. 

“I’m coming in wether you like it or not, and to be honest I don’t really care if you’re dressed or not.”

Once JJ fully stepped into the room, he contemplated following kie’s orders to drag you along to the kegger. 

“JJ I don’t want to go.” You spoke, staying put in your mountain of blankets. 

“Well kie is gonna kick my ass if i don’t come downstairs with you, so this isn’t really about you.” 

Sighing, you sat up to see JJ’s lips quirked into a smile. You knew she really would kick his ass, so for the betterment of your friend you obliged. 

“okay, but I’m not going to have fun.” You told him, and he chuckled softly. 

“That’s okay, come on you can wear that, we’re already running late.” He said, pulling you out the door. 

The kegger wasn’t too crazy, just a handful of people and a cool night. You sat in a lawn chair, eyes on the fire when you felt a presence next to you. you were met with those all too familiar hazel eyes. 

“Hey.” he spoke. 

you cleared your throat, “Hey John B.”

He sighed, kicking sand as he rested his chin in his hands. He took a deep breath before sighing,

“I just thought you should know that I’m with sarah now.” 

you rose your eyebrows, “Now? You were with her before we broke up, and then threw me away like I meant nothing to you.” 

He sighed and stood before saying, “Y/n I loved you, I really did-“

“Yeah but you love Sarah more, don’t you?” You chuckled dryly, bringing your beer to your lips.

“Y/n we-“

“Just go John b, I don’t want to hear it.”

He slowly stalked away, joining the blonde girl who had no idea you’ve had your hands on every inch of his body. Touched every dimple and freckle that littered his skin. 

Before you could spiral any further, a loud motor lured you from your thoughts. 

seriously, who would bring a motorcycle out here? 

Oh, thats who. 

You stood apprehensively as Rafe made his way to you. 

“Hey baby.” He smiled, wrapping you tightly in a hug. 

“Rafe where did you get that motorcycle?” You asked him. 

“Don’t worry about it! Do you wanna come back to my place?” He asked, placing his hands on your hips, slowly drinking in your appearance. 

“Um, no not right now.” You said, notice the same dilated pupils you had seen just hours earlier. 

“Rafe, your’e high.” You scoffed, pulling away from him. 

“Yeah, so what,” He chuckled, reaching into his pocket retrieving a bag of a curious white powder, “You want some?” He offered, pushing the bag to you. 

“What! No!” You said, shaking your head at the boy in front of you.

“Whats your problem Y/N? Just take some, it makes you feel good.” He pushed further, dumping some of the contents onto his finger. 

He thrust his powder covered digit towards your face, and you turned away in disgust.

“No Rafe.” 

“Cmon, stop being a bitch and take it.” He harshly urged, grabbing you by the back of your head, gripping your hair and placing his finger under your nose. 

You thrashed in his grip, before finally falling to the ground. White powder falling over you, almost like the snow from back home.

“Seriously! You fucking bitch! Do you know how much that cost me!” He yelled, throwing his hands up in anger. 

He was starting to catch the attention of the others around you, especially JJ.

“Rafe I-I’m sorry.’ You choked out, starting to stand when a blunt force rammed into your side. 

You screamed in pain as you fell back into the sand. A dull throbbing shooting through your body. 

Did he just kick me? You struggled to sit up as he continued his mindless yelling. 

Instantly someone was at your side, helping you up as you watched JJ and pope hold Rafe from doing any more damage. 

tears spilled over your cheeks, and your body racked with sobs as kie pushed your hair out of your face, trying to calm you down. 

Of course John b wasn’t here to help

Rafe noticed your tears, and he instantly calmed, his face softening. 

“Oh, y/n I am so sorry-” 

“Shut up Rafe, we’re through!” You screamed at him, sobbing harder as kie held you against her body. 

she shot at look at JJ and pope, making JJ say, “Okay man, you gotta go.” 

“No! Y/n I’m sorry!” He cried, fighting against the two boys once more. 

“I said go man!”JJ raised his voice, forcefully pushing Rafe back to the bike he came in on.

Rafe sighed, and turned pulling his hair and kicking sand.

JJ made his way over to you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders while kie continued to tame your sobs.

“JJ h-he kicked m-me.” You choked out, and he whispered a soft I know in your hair.

JJ nodded kie off, and she took the hint, allowing you to fall into JJs grasp.

“Cmon, let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You nodded, leaning into him as he held your arm to aid your limp.

“Where’s John b?” You whispered, and JJ kept quiet, slowly leading you back to the chateau.

The others started to clear the party, wanting you to be able to calm down alone.

Once again, someone treated you like you were nothing. Maybe you are trash. Where did you go wrong?

JJ slowly walked by your side, letting you lean into him before you reached the porch of the chateau.

“JJ, I-I’m sorry.”

“What? You have nothing to be sorry for?” He spoke, leading you through the kitchen and into the small bathroom.

“You- you told me about him, you warned me, a-and I didn’t listen.” You sobbed, JJ slowly easing you down onto the closed seat of the toilet.

“Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love with, it’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for. And he’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in right there.” He said, squatting down to your level and Placing his hand on your chin to make you look at him.

Tears continued spilling out of your Y/E/C eyes, as JJ moved the sand clumped strands of hair out of your face.

His blue eyes looked into yours, and for a moment he contemplated his next moves, should he go beat the fucker up?

But he decided he needed to be here with you.

“You need to clean up, do you want me to leave you or?”

“I-I don’t think I can, my side really hurts.” You choked, steadying yourself in the blondes shoulder.

“Okay, I’m gonna go find kie-“

“No JJ, it’s fine, I just want to get cleaned up so I can lay down.” You told him, looking back up to meet his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll run you a bath.” He spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before starting the water.

“I’m used to people seeing me at this point.” You whispered, as he helped you stand and remove your clothing.

“What?” JJ was confused.

“I never really wanted to do the things Rafe wanted me to, I just thought I had to. I didn’t want him to leave me. But I guess it never really mattered.”

JJ wanted to cry, and go beat the shit out of the boy who forced you into things, kicked you, and made you feel like shit.

“You don’t ever have to worry about him again, I got you. I promise.” He said, lowering you into the warm tub water.

You closed your eyes as the warm water hit the throbbing bruise on your side, you continued crying as the events replayed in your head.

JJ slowly leaned you back to wash the clumps of dirt and sand out of your hair, your body limp as he held you.

His face scrunched up in concentration, seeming to have never washed another persons hair before.

You watched as his eyes focused on your h/c locks, rinsing them tenderly as to not cause you any unnecessary pain.

He raised you, water cascading down your back when a knock sounded at the door.

“Yeah?” JJ questioned, dunking a washcloth in the water and lathering it with soap.

“JJ, have you seen y/n?” Kies voice sounded from outside the bathroom.

“Yeah, she’s In here.” He spoke, beginning to wash your arms and torso as kie pushed the door open.

She gasped at the sight of her cousin, kneeling down beside JJ.

“Y/n...”

“I’m okay.” You croaked, throat sore from sobbing.

“That bruise is bad, do you think you need to go to the doctor?” She asked you, pushing strands of wet hair from your face as jj ran the washcloth over the forming purple and red contusion on your ribs.

You gasped and he let a soft sorry fall past his lips.

“I think it’s ok.” You whispered, as JJ finished and grabbed a towel to help you from the tub.

“I um- need clothes.” You whispered, clinging on to JJ as you stepped from the now cool water.

“Okay, I have some you can borrow.” He told you, sitting you down on the toilet to retrieve some clothes he had left in the chateau.

Kie looked at you concerned, wondering what you were thinking.

“I would’ve helped you with the bath you know.” She told you, sitting on the counter top.

“I know, I’m okay with JJ though.” You whispered, twirling your hair into a bun.

“Hey, are you alright?” Pope spoke, coming into the bathroom.

“Uh yeah, a little shaken but I’m fine.” You smiled.

He smiled back at you, falling into conversation.

Jj was rummaging through his room in the chateau, trying to find something decent to let you borrow. He could hear noises coming from John Bs room, and he rolled his eyes at the fact John b was to caught up with a kook to even know what had just happened to you.

Jj returned to the bathroom with a T-shirt and boxers, handing them to you before walking out with Pope to let kie help you change.

“He’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in man.” Jj sighed, leaning over the kitchen counter.

“What a dick.” Pope responded, falling onto the couch.

“John b doesn’t even know.” Jj said, looking to his friend.

“I know.”

[atths--twice]

Chapter Seven

Fox was up at dawn the next morning, packing the last of his items, staring out the window and out to the Nile. No more would they have the luxury of beds, fancy dinners, cool places to seek out for a reprieve.

And he could not have been happier at the prospect of living rough.

A knock sounded at his door, surprising him, believing himself to be the only person who could possibly be awake at that early hour. When he opened it, he found Dana, looking happy, but slightly nervous.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile.

“Hello. I know it’s early, but…” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Would you like to have breakfast? Just you and I, before the others wake to join us?” She smiled and, as always seemed to happen, it caused his stomach to flip.

“I would love to have breakfast with you,” he answered and she nodded. “Let me get my jacket and we can go downstairs.”

It was slightly cooler in the mornings, and he also had something for Dana tucked inside the inner pocket. He had wanted to give it to her on Christmas, but mistakes being made, he was unable to do so. As they would now be alone, possibly for the last time in a while, he knew the timing was perfect.

Closing his door and locking it, he fell in step beside her. She was quiet but seemed to be giving off the same excited energy he himself was feeling. He looked at her appreciatively, the simple yet attractive style in which she dressed always pleasing to behold.

She did not have overly fashionable clothes, but she did not seem to care or desire them. And yet for he, who had grown up with women of all ages dressed in the latest fashions and the best jewels, her simple dress drew him to her even more. Her beauty was held in the simplicity of dress, her manners, and her intelligence.

And her eyes, which spoke to him, even when her mouth did not.

“Have you everything ready?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yes. I packed and repacked last night. Kept thinking I’d forgotten something. Or could rearrange things and find room to add one more thing.”

“Are you needing something?”

“Not at all. I have everything I need,” she assured him with a smile. “It was simply in case I needed or, more accurately, wanted it.” He laughed softly and nodded in understanding.

The dining room was nearly empty, most of the patrons still sleeping. Suggesting a table on the veranda, she accepted and they sat down. She smiled and he smiled back before the waiter walked up to ask them what they wanted to eat.

After he had walked away, he began to reach into his jacket pocket when she let out a deep breath and turned those blue eyes onto him. They were serious and he drew his hand back, folding them in his lap.

“I want to talk about… to tell you why I came here. You’ve never asked and I’ve never volunteered the information, but I want you to know.” She drew in a breath, licked her lips, and closed her eyes briefly. Opening them, she smiled softly and he waited, not wanting to hurry her.

Coffees and sweet biscuits were set on the table and for a few minutes their attention was diverted. When she had taken a few sips of coffee, she nodded and exhaled.

“I… my family is from Maryland, as I told you, and two houses down from us was a family with three children. We all grew up together, though they were slightly older than me. The youngest boy, Matthew…” At this, she trailed off as her hand went to her throat and he knew what she was going to say. He wanted to stop her, tell her it was not necessary, but she had said she wanted him to know, so he would listen.

“Matthew was two years older than me and I…” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes. He swallowed, hating to see her hurting, but knowing there was nothing he could do to help her. “I tagged along with all of them, equally hating and loving him. He treated me like an annoying little sister, but then brought me flowers or held my hand when I had fallen and scraped my knee. He had a way about him. I was in love with him for most of my life.” She smiled at him with tears in her eyes and she sniffled, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

“He… he never encouraged it, or expected it, showing attention to other girls which broke my heart. But one summer, I stayed with my grandparents and came home in September before school started. I had changed and he noticed, his attention no longer given to other girls, only me. I was fourteen, he was sixteen, and a far off war had recently been declared. Our lives, though not yet consumed by it, soon would be.” She took a second, drinking more of her coffee, not meeting his eyes.

“We were still the same, but different. I had our lives planned in my mind: engaged once I was eighteen, married by nineteen or twenty, a family not far off. I was so happy.” She let out such a shuddering breath, Fox reached for her hand, not caring what others thought or if she would object. She clung to his hand, still not meeting his eyes, tears on her cheeks.

“Though America had not officially entered the war, we all knew it was imminent. It weighed upon everyone. The Lusitania…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. He knew what she was thinking and it made his stomach turn. Opening her eyes, she exhaled quietly. “When Matthew turned eighteen, in August of 1916, he enlisted in the military. He was so proud, ready to fight the Germans and stomp them out. I was terrified.”

“Dana,” Fox said, as she began to cry quietly, but she shook her head, determined to see her story through.

“When… when war was declared… he was so happy. Oh, that makes him sound… I didn’t mean-”

“I understand,” he whispered and she nodded, her head down.

“He left not long after for training and then to England. He asked me to promise to wait for him. It was the easiest promise I ever made.” She blew her nose in the napkin and wiped her eyes. “He arrived in England in June of 1917 and was killed in October of the same year.” She covered her face and cried and he swallowed down the large lump in his throat, turning his head to give them both a chance to compose themselves.

When he had, he looked at her, seeing her tears were subsiding as she took deep calming breaths. Uncovering her face, she looked at him, tears clinging to her lashes.

“My life was planned. I only wanted a husband and a family. And I lost it all. My life ended when his did. My heart was broken.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was… I can’t describe it. I…” She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “I was devastated. Then angry. Then devastated again. My brother came home, wounded but alive, and I hated him for it. My sister’s husband had not fought, a childhood illness of scarlet fever keeping him from doing so. I hated him too. I hated all of them, until I found an old book of mine, one Matthew and used to read together, about the gods and goddesses of Egypt, planning one day to see them together. That’s when I read about Kha’ari. When my heart was broken, I found her.”

He took a drink and tried to dislodge the lump which once again sat there, as she cried softly for a second.

“My path was clear, I needed to come here, to find her temple. My parents didn’t want me to leave, my father was adamant that I stay, wanting to keep an eye on me, but I was still angry, still hurting. I had to leave. I came here with my aunt and uncle, two people who knew to keep quiet about subjects and let me grieve. They helped set me up at my flat and get me the job at the museum in a training program. They left me and for the first time I felt like I could breathe. When I discovered there was not a temple dedicated to Kha’ari, I was broken again. I did my work, but felt empty for quite a while. But when King Tutankhamun was discovered, I once again felt hopeful. Felt that spark within me ignite, just as it did for you.”

She smiled and he stared at her, once again amazed by her, and by women in general. Women who suffer and hurt, yet carry on every day without giving any indication of their pain.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again and she frowned. “I had no idea.”

“I hadn’t told you, how could you have known?” she asked softly.

“I kissed you. I… should not have done that, not when you…”

“Fox…”

“I took liberties and you’re… grieving… you’re hurting.”

“No, Fox,” she said, softly still. “No. Well, not exactly. I did grieve. I suppose I always will, but it’s… mellowed. It’s evened out. I’m not hurting anymore. Not the way I was. I have a new path now. It’s this… and after this… I don’t know. But, my grief and pain are no longer the same.”

“That’s why you want to find it. To thank her,” he stated, as it all finally made sense and she smiled.

“When I first arrived and did not find it here, when all I had wanted was to offer up my pain to her and have it taken from me, I wanted it for different reasons. But now, five years have passed since the worst day of my life, and yes, I want to thank her.”

He stared at her and felt a new desire grow within him. If it took years, he would work to find that temple for her, to present to her the opportunity to give her proper thanks.

If she asked him for the moon, he would attempt to try, wanting nothing more than to see her happy.

____________________

They were quiet after her story, but a comfortable quiet that did not feel strained. He kept feeling he should reciprocate with his own story, but it did not feel like the right moment. That had not been what drove her to speak, so he remained silent.

“The dress your mother sent two years ago,” he said, her eyes raising to his in question, as the puzzle pieces he knew of her life began to fall into place.

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “She sent it with a note hoping it would be something I would wear ‘out with a young man.’  I never found an occasion worthy of it, until recently anyway.” She smiled and he nodded.

“Or the young man, I suppose,” he joked and she held his gaze, saying nothing as she then looked away.

Clearing his throat, finding double meaning in her answer, or lack thereof, he once again reached toward his jacket pocket and took out the gift he had purchased for her a few days past, placing it onto the table. Pushing it toward her, he watched her looking at it.

“I noticed that your journal was nearly full as you wrote in it recently. I knew you needed a new one, and I had planned on making it a Christmas gift, but…” He pulled his hands back and she smiled as she looked at the dark, rich brown of the leather.

“Thank you. I was in need of a new journal… oh, Fox…” she breathed and then gasped as she opened the journal and saw what he had added to it.

Every night before he had gone to sleep, he sketched copies of his sketches from his own journal into hers. The first three pages were dedicated to the sketches of what they had seen and what had caught his eye.

“This is beautiful. Oh, the details of this one… Fox. This is from Karnak. I remember turning around and you weren’t there. I came back and you were sketching this one.” She looked up at him and he smiled with a nod. “Thank you, this is an amazing gift. One I will treasure always.”

He nodded, saying nothing, her story weighing heavily on his mind as they finished their meal. He was thoughtful as they left the veranda and for the first time, her words did not reach his ears as they walked and she spoke to him. His mind was full and he needed time to think of all he had learned.

The arrival of the men was a welcome distraction, their excitement driving away the heaviness of the morning. They were all laughing and talking, Pierre both writing and signing.

Their trunks were brought down and added to the wagons, a third one procured for all of the extra bits they had not accounted for, the others too full to hold any more.

They had to ferry across the river one wagon at a time, the weight of all too heavy to sustain them if they did not. Once they were all together, they set off. Akl drove one wagon, his boys the others, with everyone else on horseback, using borrowed horses which would be brought back when they were settled.

It would take nearly three full days to reach their final destination, needing to stop and camp for two nights. The weather was perfect, the sky cloudless, the company easy. No one could have asked for a better start.

By the time they stopped for the day, they were sore and tired. Akl’s sons began to prepare a fire as he set about making them dinner.

The three men insisted they had bedrolls and were not in need of a tent for two nights, so long as the fire was warm, they would be quite fine.

Fox insisted they put up the smaller tent for Dana, and though she refused, not wanting to be of any trouble, with the help of Sobek and Atum it was quickly erected and her bed made up. As she stepped inside to have a look at it, she brushed Fox’s arm, her eyes thanking him.

They ate and sat around the fire talking, getting to know one another better.

John, 28, was from Kansas, the middle of six boys, and the son of a very tough man to please. He was cruel at times, enticing his sons to squabble and fight one another, believing it made them stronger. No weak sons for him, thank you.

“Although it doesn’t excuse me,” John said, as he looked at Dana. “It’s part of why I was willing to leave when we first met. My father’s voice in my ear telling me a man should never be led by a woman. That I was weak if I allowed it.”

“I understand. I do,” Dana said softly, but she shook her head. “It doesn’t mean that it’s right, however. To be diminished because of my sex… to be thought as less than another, it is unfair.”

Pierre clapped his hands at this, nodding vigorously and tapping his chest. He signed something to John, who nodded and signed back with a rueful smile.

“Yes, it is unfair and I apologize again, to you both. For my thoughts were somewhat similar when I met Pierre, though it was wrong of me.” He nodded at his friend again. “It’s hard. To get that voice out of your head, even after all this time. I haven’t seen my father in nearly ten years. I left home when I was eighteen, moving from place to place doing odd jobs and never went back. I got into a lot of scraps and some of them… I’m surprised I survived. Surprised I survived that, more than I survived the war. But I did and I learned from them, though not enough it seems. I apologize to you once again, Miss Scully.” He bowed his head to her and she smiled kindly at him.

“For the last time,” she stated softly and he grinned as he met her eyes, his forgiveness granted.

Charles, 30, was from London, very near Fox’s family, though they had never met. He had two younger sisters, both now married and in the country somewhere.

“I’ve been away from home for a long time myself. After the war, I couldn’t go back. I was different and the thought of home did not hold the same appeal. My mother had passed while I was in Belgium, the letter from my sister reaching me nearly a month after it happened. I… I read it and put it in my pocket, took one breath, and was back to the fight. I had no time to think about it, to dwell and remember her. I felt nothing because I would not allow myself to do so. I was twenty three, in the middle of a bloody war, and it was I, not my mother who survived.” He shook his head and wiped at his eyes quickly. Pierre clapped him on the back gently and Charles nodded.

“When the war was over, I couldn’t go home. Not even for my sisters. I had to leave, to go anywhere. Anywhere hot. I’d spent nights freezing without a fire and I could not abide a cold London winter. I had to go somewhere warm. I traveled through Africa, visiting many of its countries. I like it here, this continent suits me.” Dana smiled at him and he nodded. Pierre rubbed his back again and looked at Dana and then John.

“Right,” John said. “Charles and I know Pierre’s story, having heard it before, but Charles is not as fluent in sign language as I am, so I’ll be translating for him.” Pierre smiled at Dana again and she smiled back. He began to speak with his hands and John spoke his words quietly.

“I am twenty five, from Bordeaux. My parents have a vineyard there and I have two brothers. An older and a younger. I don’t remember ever being able to speak, though my parents said I did. I fell when I was two and was in the hospital for a long time, though I have no memory of it. I was brought to Paris by train and had surgeries done as my brain was swollen. I survived them, though it was a long time in the hospital, again something I do not remember much of, but from it, I was left unable to speak. I eventually attended schools for the deaf and the mute where I learned sign language. My parents thankfully did not lose their vineyard, as my injuries and costs thereafter were expensive, but it thrived. I will never be in charge of it, my…” Here Pierre paused his hands and took a deep breath. “My younger brother will, my older brother having died in the war.”

It was now Charles’s turn to offer support, his hand on Pierre’s shoulder. Pierre nodded and then shook his head, his hands once again moving quickly.

“I came to Italy four years ago, a doctor there claiming he could treat and cure muteness. I…” Again he paused, his hands lying in his lap. The fire crackled and they all jumped, laughing in embarrassment. Pierre smiled and began again. “I was in love with a young woman and I wanted to be able to speak to her. To speak the words I love you and not just write them. But the treatment was not what I believed it would be. It was…” He swallowed and wiped at his eyes. “Terrible. Just… terrible. I won’t go into more detail.”

“And you never went back to her?” Dana asked softly. Fox looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks as she stared at Pierre. “You didn’t go home?” He shook his head and looked down at his lap, his hands moving, but his gaze not meeting hers.

“No,” John said for him, his voice very quiet. “I was and still am ashamed. Of my imperfections and my cowardice to face her with them.”

“Oh…” Dana breathed and she began to cry softly. Pierre looked up at her and then stood to his feet, walking close to her. He handed her a handkerchief and she took it, grasping his hand. “I’m so sorry. If she loved you, she saw past what you consider imperfections. I know she did.” He shook his head and shrugged, sitting back down as the rest of them were silent.

Dana, after her tears subsided, told them about herself and Matthew. Fox was thankful to her for telling him privately that morning, the shock and pain at hearing her pain would have been hard to hear in front of strangers. He would have been unable to hide his feelings and desire to comfort her.

When she had finished, Pierre was sitting beside her, holding her hand. Their stories were somewhat similar, thus they seemed to find comfort with one another.

All eyes turned to Fox and he cleared his throat. He had never told Dana his whole story and as he relayed it now, of being stabbed and shot, his multiple illnesses both during and after the war, she rose from her seat and sat close to him, taking his large hand in her small one. She would squeeze it when he paused, needing a second to compose himself, the panic rising within him. When he was done, she remained next to him, now holding his hand in both of hers.

“Bloody hell,” Charles said, shaking his head. “We’re all quite a broken bloody mess, aren’t we?” They all laughed, Dana wiping her eyes as she did, still holding onto Fox’s hand with the other.

“I’d say so,” John said almost bitterly. “And with that, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

They all agreed and stood to make their beds ready. Fox walked Dana to her tent and she stopped at the door before going inside. She searched his face and he smiled, not wanting her to worry. She took his hand and squeezed gently.

“Goodnight, Fox,” she whispered.

“And to you, Dana.”

One more squeeze and she let go of his hand, stepping inside the tent. He waited for a second and then rejoined the men around the fire.

He lay on his back looking up at the stars, the sand cool beneath his fingers, and he thought of what Charles said; they were all a broken mess, each in their own way. He turned onto his side and stared at Dana’s tent, hoping she was asleep or at least near to it.

A snore from Akl, around his own smaller fire with his sons, came from his left. The other men seemed to be asleep already also. He closed his eyes, his thoughts once again on Dana, hoping she was able to find peace as she slept.

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Part 6

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-5 can be found under the the tag #alex and liv: the wonder years

Thank you to everyone who reblogged the last chapter and an extra special thank you to @imaginaryoperagloves ​@oliviaswifey and my lovely anon for your comments.

...and a very happy day THREE of birthday week to my love @ghostwritingcabenson

Olivia had kissed her girlfriend just three more times before Abbie and Serena interrupted their time alone. She had now kissed Alex a total of five times and each kiss had been better than the one before. And it’s going to keep getting better. 

“You guys missed the best thing to happen at the dance,” Serena excitedly told her best friend. She sat down on the bench next to Alex and squeezed in as closely as she could so Abbie could sit down on the other side of her. “Logan in our homeroom asked Ava to slow dance with him even though he’s with Allie and when Allie found out she splashed an entire cup of punch on him and his white shirt. Everyone, even the seventh and eighth graders, were laughing at him. He’s such a creep. It’s gonna be the topic of conversation all day on Monday and I can’t believe you guys missed it.”

“What were you doing out here anyway?” Abbie asked. “Were you sick of the eighth graders? The way they dance is just grinding on each other. It’s so gross and they think they’re so much cooler than everyone.”

Serena gasped. “I know why they were out here.” She started to stare at her best friend’s face. “Something about you is different, Alex. You’re glowing and you’re like a whole new woman. You and Olivia were kissing! Tell me all about it. Did she slip you the tongue? Wait, you can’t tell me that in front of her. Call me as soon as you get home and tell me every detail.”

“What?” Alex’s eyes widened. “No! Olivia and I don’t do that! We just kissed normally.”

Serena nearly pounced on her best friend. “You and Olivia kissed? I’m so happy for you! You still need to call me tonight and tell me everything, though. Are her lips soft? Abbie’s are really soft and she wears vanilla chapstick. She tastes like a birthday cake and you know how much I love birthday cake.”

“I’m right here, Serena,” Abbie said in a frustrated tone of voice. “And none of that slipping the tongue stuff for us either. That’s so gross. I have enough spit of my own. I don’t need yours, too.”

Olivia glanced over at the pick-up and drop-off area and noticed a man around her mom’s age pull up in a black sports car. Her mom drove a hybrid and hated men who drove sports cars because she said most of them were pretentious, but Olivia had to admit it was one of the coolest cars she had ever seen. 

“That’s my uncle Emerson,” Abbie told them. “My parents are having date night tonight so I’m staying with him.”

“Can we check out his car?” Serena asked. Before Abbie could respond, Serena grabbed her by the hand and started hurrying her over. 

“You want to see it, too, don’t you?” Alex asked Olivia. “Nevermind. I don’t even have to ask. Let’s go see it.”

The car was a brand new Mustang and Olivia was in awe of the interior and all the features it had. “Uncle Em, these are my friends Alex and Olivia,” Abbie told him, bringing Olivia out of the trance she was in from staring at the car. “And the beautiful girl in the same dress as me is my girlfriend Serena.”

“It’s nice to meet you girls,” Emerson said to them. He was handsome and well dressed with brown hair and brown eyes and Olivia was sure she had seen him somewhere before even if she couldn’t figure out where.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Olivia blurted out.

“You’re Serena Benson’s daughter, aren’t you?” Emerson asked. 

“...yeah,” Olivia hesitated. “Do you work with my mom?”

Emerson shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen your mom in thirteen years. She and I were best friends in college. We did everything together. She was in my fraternity’s sister sorority and I found out her dorm room was a few doors down from mine. We were both pledges at the same time so we’d swap horror stories about pledging every night at the cafe on the first floor of our building.”

“My mom never talks about college,” Olivia said glumly. “She doesn’t show me pictures either, but I saw her sorority keepsake box this past summer and I think that’s where I recognized you from. You guys went to formal together, right?”

Emerson slicked his hair back with his hand, trying to recall when he and Serena had gone to formal together. “Freshman, sophomore, and junior year,” he said matter-of-factly. “Now that I think about it we went every year other than senior year because your mom moved back home to LA when…”

“When she was pregnant with me?” Olivia asked. She could feel Alex, Abbie, and Serena staring at her, but she didn’t care. Whenever she asked her mom or even her aunt and uncle who her dad was, she was always met with a vague answer of her dad being someone her mom knew in college, but she was now face-to-face with someone who could possibly give her answers and she didn’t care how anyone reacted to her getting them.

“Would you girls excuse me?” Emerson asked. “Olivia, do you want to step aside and talk? I can see you have some other questions and it’s better if I answer them privately.”

“I’m her girlfriend,” Alex crossed her arms. “Olivia and I don’t keep secrets from each other, so anything you can say to her can be said to me.”

“Is that okay with you, Olivia?” he asked.

“...yeah,” Olivia responded nervously, now wondering if this conversation was still a good idea.

The three of them were standing close enough for Emerson to keep an eye on Abbie and Serena but far enough for the two of them not to be able to hear their conversation.

“Your mom was something,” Emerson chuckled. Judging by the expression on his face, Olivia could tell he was thinking of fond memories. I’ve finally found the right person to give me answers. “She was president of Phi Delt in her junior year. She was sick of weekly weigh-ins and all of this asinine stuff the girls were forced to do so I got a call from her at 3 a.m. and she’s saying she had an epiphany and that she’s going to run for president so she can change everything she hated about the organization. She laid out her entire campaign plan for me and I remember being so in awe of her because her plan worked. Serena was so fiery and so much fun. That woman was my everything when I was an undergrad. She found out she was pregnant a couple of weeks after our junior year ended. She had gone back home to LA for the summer and she called me a few minutes after she found out she was pregnant. She ended up taking a year off of school and I never saw her again.”

“She should be here any minute,” Alex said, her arms still crossed as she talked to Emerson. “If you and her were such great friends, I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“I better not,” Emerson responded. “Serena and I had a falling out. I’m not sure she’d be as happy to see me as you think she’d be.”

“Why?” Olivia asked. “Did it have to do with my dad? If you were her best friend and the person she spent all her time with, you had to know him. Can you tell me something about him? Anything?”

“Were you jealous of him?” Alex narrowed her eyes at Emerson. “She liked some other guy so that’s why you stopped talking to her?”

“There was no other guy,” he said to Olivia, completely disregarding Alex. “That May, when she got pregnant with you, there was no other guy.”

“How?” Olivia asked. “If there was no other guy, then how did she－oh. You’re my...” It had suddenly become too much for Olivia. She wanted to cry, she wanted to hug him, but mostly she felt angry with her mom for keeping him from her all these years. 

She knew she only had a couple of minutes left with him, so she clinged to her dad tighter than she had ever clinged to anyone before for fear that the moment she let go, she’d realize that this had all been a dream. 

Emerson wrapped his arms around her, placing a kiss on top of her head. “I’ve been waiting so long to hold you, ever since I found out your mom was pregnant.”

“You have?”

“I loved your mom with all of my heart,” he said as she caressed Olivia’s back to comfort her. “I wanted us to be a family, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t even want me to see you, but I’ve watched you grow up online. Your mom and I aren’t friends on social media but I’ve seen your pictures through friends of friends. Abbie says you’re a great basketball player. You and I have that in common. I played when I was your age and in high school.”

“I get it from you then,” Olivia managed to say through her tears. “My mom knows nothing about sports.”

“Olivia,” Alex tried to get her attention. “Your mom should be here any second now. We have to go, unless...Emerson, you’d like to see Serena? Serena and her perfect girlfriend who is tall and strong and can probably hurt any man who messes with Serena.”

“Your girl is a fiery one, too,” he said to Olivia. “I know your mom should be here soon, so I’m going to give you my number and you can call or text me anytime you want.”

Olivia pulled away so she could get her phone out of her back pocket. Once she got his number, she immediately texted him so he could have hers. Her text message simply read, ‘Hi, Dad.’ but she had waited a lifetime just to be able to call someone that.

Olivia watched her dad drive away, wondering if she’d get the opportunity to see him again or if her mom would keep him from her for another 12 years. I don’t care what she says. This is her fault. We could have been a family this whole time but she ruined it for us. She ruined everything.

“I don’t like him,” Alex said as they walked over to where Jamie’s car had just pulled up. “There’s something creepy about him. Your mom seems cool, Olivia. She’s even taking us for frozen yogurt right now when most parents would never do that for their daughter’s boyfriend or girlfriend. If she’s cool about other things, don’t you think there’s a good reason why she never told you about him? And he knows your mom wouldn’t want you to talk to him, but yet he says you can text him behind your mom’s back? A responsible adult would first try to make amends with your mom and then build a relationship with you.”

Before Olivia could respond, Serena came rushing over to her. She had removed her stilettos and set them down on the grass so she could walk faster. I don’t even want her touching me. But the moment she was wrapped up in her mom’s embrace, Olivia couldn’t bring herself to be mad at her. “Ollie, sweetie, why are you crying? You had me so worried.” 

She felt the softness of her mom’s sweater dress and smelled the familiar scent of her Burberry Blush perfume and the product she used whenever she wanted her hair in beach waves. Everything about her mom felt like home and she never wanted to upset her or do anything to hurt the woman who loved her more than life itself.

“We just found out something very disturbing, Ms. Benson,” Alex began. “Mrs. Rodriguez, our science teacher, is giving us another science project. It’s really going to cut into Olivia’s ESPN time.”

“My girl,” her mom said as she began to caress her back the same way her dad did just a few moments before. “Is that what’s wrong? You know I’ll help you with your project.”

“Yeah,” Olivia nuzzled into her mom’s shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She did have a project.

Her mom placed a kiss on Olivia’s nose. “I love you so much Ollie. You’re my smart girl and I know you’re going to do great on your project but if you ever need help with anything at all, you can always come to me. Now let’s go get you girls some frozen yogurt. I want to hear all about your date and get to know your Disney princess.”

“Ms. Benson, stay here. I’ll go get your shoes,” Alex said. “They’re Louboutins. They should not just be lying in the grass.”

“Your girlfriend knows her shoes, Ollie.”

“She knows everything,” Olivia beamed with pride. 

“Apparently she knows how to kiss, too, because I can see some glitter lip gloss on your lips.”

Olivia immediately covered her mouth. “Mom, I－wait, is that a mark on your neck?”

“I’m allergic to our fabric softener,” Serena quickly responded.

Olivia was grateful when Alex returned with her mom’s shoes and they could finally drop the subject. “Ms. Benson, your cheeks are so pink. What blush do you use?”

“Oh, I’m not wearing any,” Serena responded. “I only wear foundation, mascara, and lipstick.”

“You’re glowing!” Alex told her. “I need to know your skincare routine.”

Olivia took a second glance at her mom. She did look different. Her cheeks were pink, her lipstick that was usually perfectly applied was somewhat faded, and she had a dark mark on her neck. What did she….oh, MOM! Yuck! She was making out with Jamie right before picking us up. I’m never gonna be able to look Jamie in the eyes again.

But on second thought, now she can’t ground me for kissing Alex. If she does, I'll ground her for making out with Jamie. 

Olivia wasn’t sure if she should talk to her mom about meeting her dad or if she should even continue texting him behind her mom’s back no matter how much she wanted a relationship with him. But she had until the end of the night to think about it. For the next hour, she was going to eat some frozen yogurt with gummy worms in it and try to avoid getting grounded.