#they named wheezie over the first sound she made cause they DID NOT care for her in the slightest

[rotteneldritchhorror]

you can tell who's the favorite child because its rafe, wheezie, and SARAH.

sarah has the most normal name of her fucking siblings, of course she's the favorite

[poge-life]

⚠️ obx² spoilers!

hii, idk if you're accepting requests for long smut stories at the moment, but I love 365 days so much that I instantly thought of you when I had this idea. Would you write an imagine based on that scene where Rafe is at Ward's closet (you can change the context if you want), and then the reader walks in when he's looking in the mirror and she leans against the door/wall saying something like "Looking good Mr. Cameron", but in a teasing way so it leads to smut ofc, you can choose how it happens, but with dom!rafe, basically the same energy as 365 would be fantastic! I love your writing 💞

I am so flattered that you thought of me to write this and i knew as soon as I read it, I had to write it. This does not take place during the 365 timeline, but the OBX timeline. Please do not read if you haven't watched Outer Banks or finished this season because this does contain spoilers for OBX2 beneath the cut.

Also, it took me fucking forever to figure out to get a clip of Rafe putting on Ward's jacket, so enjoy!

Summary: After needing space after everything that happened this summer, you decided to go and see Rafe, just not expecting him to look good in Ward's jacket

Warnings: OBX2 spoiler, smut, daddy kink, name calling, spitting, spanking, hair pulling, and angst towards the end if you squint.

This past summer was...eventful. To say the least. Rafe had asked you to spend the summer with him instead of going to Florida with your family like you do every summer. And of course, you said yes. Spend the summer in Miami with your family or stay in the OBX with your hot-ass boyfriend? That was a no brainer.

You just didn’t expect this summer to turn out the way it did. Topper and Sarah had broken up because she ended up with John B, the Pogue who worked for her dad, Rafe’s drug habit had gotten bad, his dad had decided he needed to get a job, Rafe ended up beating Pope Heyward up with a golf club, and then proceeded to try and beat the shit out of JJ at Midsummers, annnnd Sheriff Peterkin was dead.

Oh, and Sarah and John B were alive after getting lost in the storm that they were chased into by the police.

And the cherry on top was that Rafe was the one who shot Peterkin and his dad killed himself to keep Rafe from going to jail.

You had distanced yourself from Rafe for a while, needing a moment to process everything that had happened. You didn’t know what to do. Rafe had come to you after everything that had happened and told you he knew something was wrong with him. That he had all of these thoughts in his head that made him want to hurt people but he didn’t want to do it.

He had gone to Ward about it but as usual, he had brushed it off and told him there wasn’t anything wrong with him and that he was going to be okay.

You could tell something wasn’t okay with your boyfriend. Ever since Peterkin’s funeral, he had been acting differently. His movements were sluggish and he seemed to zone out a lot and he acted more impulsively. Well, more than usual.

He came straight to you once he found out that his dad had killed himself. And that was the first time you had ever seen him cry. He was scared of what he was going to do and didn’t know how to stop it. He wanted help but no one was willing to get him the help he needed.

So, you vowed to help him in any way you could.

Sarah had texted you and told you Rafe was having a hard time processing everything that had happened with Ward. She had told you that their father had left behind a video, explaining everything; how he killed Big John Routledge, stole gold from John B, and killed Peterkin.

So, yeah. You could understand how Rafe would have a hard time processing what was going on.

You parked your car, grabbing your phone as you made your way up the driveway of Tannyhill. Letting yourself in through the side doors that you knew they never locked, you made your way up the stairs. Taking the way you knew like the back of your hand at this point to Rafe’s room, you peeked in to see his room empty. Pushing the door open, you made your way to the bathroom, not seeing him there either.

Realizing where he was, you made your way to Ward’s room. The light from the lamp gave the room a soft golden glow. You saw shadow movement from the closet and slowly made your way over to it.

Rafe was standing in front of the mirror with one of Ward’s jackets on and you hated to admit it, but he looked good. Really good.

Your eyes raked up his figure from his reflection and you leaned against the door as you called out, “Looking good, Mr. Cameron”

Rafe turned to look at you in shock before relaxing when he realized who it was, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You softly said, making your way over to him. You stopped with just a few inches in between the two of you. You brushed your hands over the front of his jacket as you looked up at him through your lashes, “You do look good, Rafe.”

He turned back to look at his reflection in the mirror, “Really?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist from the side, “looking all professional. Really gets me going.”

Rafe couldn’t help the laugh that came out as he looked at you through the mirror, “Yeah? What about it, baby?”

You shrugged, running your fingers over the top of the band of his jeans, “Just thinking about you sitting behind a desk and in comes your beautiful girlfriend, hoping to distract you from all your hard work...only for you to get frustrated because you have an important client to work with so you have no choice but to bend me over your desk and take those frustrations out on me”

You let out a teasing sigh as you pulled away from him, “But then again, you’re just wearing a jacket.”

You barely made it a foot away from him before he tugged you back to him, his hand instantly finding its way around your neck, causing you to look up at him. He had a smirk on his face as his eyes roamed over yours, “good to know that even in your little fantasies, you know who’s in charge.”

“Who said it has to be a fantasy?” You whispered

And that’s all it took for him to snap.

Rafe leaned down and smashed his lips onto yours, tightening his grip around your throat, causing you to moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one of your hands going straight to his hair, giving it a tug.

You were so glad he had decided to ditch the hair gel and just leave it natural. You loved it that way.

Rafe pulled away, causing you to whine, “I want you in my room, naked on all fours. Do you understand?”

You had never been so glad to have his hand around your neck because you knew you couldn’t hold yourself up after what he just said to you.

You nodded but you should have known that wasn’t gonna fly with Rafe.

He shook his head, kissing his teeth as he titled your head up even more to look at him as he delivered a harsh slap to your ass, “C’mon baby. You know better than that. Use your words.”

“Yes sir.” You whispered, biting down on your bottom lip.

He released the grip he had on your neck as he nodded his head towards the closet door, “Go on. And I really wouldn’t test my patience right now if I were you.”

You all but scrambled out of the closet, making a beeline straight towards your boyfriends room. Kicking your shoes off by the door, you made quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down along with your thong, basically ripping your shirt in half to get it off, tugging off your bralette as you made your way to the bed.

You did as you were; on all fours with your ass in the air. You felt a little embarrassed at the situation, considering this was going to be the first time you guys fucked in the house with Sarah, Rose, and Wheezie home. But you didn’t care. You just needed Rafe. And you needed him bad.

You heard the door shut and the sound of the lock clicking in place.

Rafe stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on his bed. On all fours, just like he asked. He knew you were going to listen. You always did when it came to him.

He slowly made his way over to you, lightly trailing his fingers up the back of your leg, watching in satisfaction as goosebumps appeared. He grabbed your ass with both hands, kneading the flesh in both hands.He spread your cheeks apart and had to bite back a moan at the sight of your glistening pussy.

He knew you had gotten worked up earlier, but jesus, he didn’t know you were this worked up over him.

“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you, sweetheart?” He softly asked, ghosting his fingers over the place you wanted him the most

You had to fight the urge to moan at Rafe’s words, looking back at him over your shoulder, “No, sir?”

Rafe raised his eyebrow at you, “You have no idea why I’m punishing you? I suggest you think real hard.”

“I interrupted your work.” You mumbled, letting out a yelp from the hard smack he delivered to your ass, “You know I don’t like it when you mumble.”

“I interrupted your work.” You spoke louder, looking back at him once again, him nodding in agreement, “You did. And you know how I feel about that. You could have lost me an important business partner. But lucky for you, all I had to explain to him was that my girlfriend was a needy little slut who’s desperate for me to put her in her place.”

You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips at his words. You loved his dirty mouth and he knew it too. Which is why he always took advantage of that fact.

Rafe let out a dark chuckle at hearing you moan, “Yeah? You like hearing that I have to tell people that I have to put you in your place because you're desperate for my cock? You like people knowing that you’re my little cock whore?”

You let out a whimper at his words, nodding your head, “Yes, I like people knowing I’m your little whore.”

“Good girl.” He smirked, slowly inserting a finger into your pussy, “Yeah, you’re my good girl.”

You pushed yourself back onto his hand, making his finger go deeper. Rafe quickly pulled his hand back, kissing his teeth, “You always seem to forget I’m in charge, baby. I thought you were my good girl?”

You quickly nodded your head, “I am. I am your good girl.”

Rafe shook his head at you, shrugging off the jacket, “See, I don’t think you are. Because good girls take what I give them. But you decided to be greedy and wanted more.”

“I’m sorry.” You said.

“C’mere.”

You moved from your position, turning to kneel in front of him on the bed. Your eyes raked over his appearance, lingering on his arms, because good lord, they look really good in that shirt (I am not kidding. I watched him put on the jacket an embarrassing amount of times just to watch his arms flex)

Rafe stepped directly in front of you, causing you to lean your head back a little bit to look up at him, noticing his eyes had gotten a shade darker. He dragged his hand up the front of your body and you shivered from the feeling, Rafe smirking at the reaction.

He rubbed his thumb on your bottom lip, pupils blown as he watched you take his thumb into his mouth, lips wrapping around it as you sucked on it, going down to the knuckle.

“Fuck me.” He let out, causing you to release his finger with a pop, nipping at the top of it, “Then fucking do it, Cameron.”

Rafe reached for the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head as you worked on unbuttoning his pants, tugging them down and tossed his shirt to the side, kicking off his jeans as you rubbed your hand over his cock.

You hooked your fingers on the top of his calvins (you can’t tell me that both Drew and rafe aren’t the type of guys to wear Calvin Klein), slowly tugging them down, not breaking eye contact. Rafe kicked them off the rest of the way as he tangled his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back.

“Open.”

You smirked as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out as Rafe leaned down to spit in your mouth. You closed your mouth, swallowing before showing him.

“Good girl,” he smirked, “back on all fours, baby. You know how I want it.”

You nodded as you moved your body back into the position you were in only minutes ago. Except this time, you were facing the mirror that was attached to his dresser. You watched with your heart racing as he kneeled behind you on the bed, stroking his cock, never taking his eyes off your pussy.

You leaned down so your chest was on the bed, back arched, with your ass in the air, just how he liked it. Rafe ran the tip of his dick up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal, making it easier for him to slide in, not like that has ever been a problem before.

He didn’t even give you a heads up as he slammed into you, causing you to let out a loud moan as he quickly set the pace. Going slow but bottoming out at a hard pace. Just the way you liked it.

“Fuck, baby,” He moaned, grabbing onto your hips, throwing his head back, “you always feel so good.”

You threw your hips back against him, causing him to stop, holding you tight against him, a vice like grip on your hips, “what did I just fucking say? Good girls take what I give. But you’re not one. You’re a needy little whore.”

He leaned over your back, wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling you up so you were flushed against his chest.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered, both of you making eye contact in the mirror, “you go from this sweet girl in public to my little slut as soon as I touch you.”

“Please.” You begged, wiggling your hips against his, causing him to let go of your waist only to bring his hand back down on your ass. Hard.

“Please what, baby?” He teased, smirking at the way you leaned back into him.

“Please fuck me.” You begged, wrapping your arm around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Please fuck me, what?” He teased, tugging on your ear, waiting for you to say the word so he could give you what you both wanted.

“Please fuck me...daddy.” You whimpered, leaning your head back on his shoulder, turning to leave kisses on his jaw.

Rafe turned his head to the side to pull you into a bruising kiss. Teeth clashing, spit dripping down your chin. It was hot. Rafe pulled away, pushing you back down on all fours as he pulled out so just the tip was in before pushing back in hard.

You let little moans and whimpers at the brutual pace he was going. And you knew it was all the frustrations he’s built up these past few weeks.

Rafe leaned forward and tangled one of his hands in your hair, tugging your head up to make you watch in the mirror. He had a light coat of sweat on his skin and his hair was messed up from you running your fingers through it.

“Such a good girl.” He moaned, pulling you up so you were flush against his chest again, “C’mon baby. You want this dick so bad, fuck yourself on it.”

You moved your hips back at a fast pace, locking eyes with him in the mirror as he leaned down to press wet, hot kisses on your neck. You pulled away from him and turned to face him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled his head down to bring him into a kiss.

Rafe leaned forward, causing you to lean backwards, moving so you were laying flat on the bed with him hovering over you. Rafe wrapped one of your legs around his waist as he moved to push back into you. You both let out a loud moan at the feeling of being connected again.

You pulled Rafe down for a kiss as you wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. He pulled away, placing both of his hands next to your head, not breaking eye contact with you.

You see just how much he was hurting just by looking at him. And it made your heartbreak. He was never one to ever show his emotions but after everything that happened this summer, you knew he was slipping through the cracks. And it was only a matter of time before he broke.

You tightened your grip around his waist as he sent a hard thrust that spot that had you letting out a loud moan. Rafe smirked at you and did what every guy was supposed to do when this happened, just keep doing it. He kept the same angle as he leaned down and buried his face in your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

“Fuck Rafe.” You dragged your nails down his back, causing him to let out a groan at the feeling.

“C’mon, baby,” he leaned up, brushing his lips over yours, “you know what you need to do if you wanna cum.”

“Please make me cum,” You whimpered, tugging on his hair, “I wanna cum.”

“Yeah?” He spoke, “You wanna cum?”

You nodded, leaning up to press your lips to his.

He pulled away, pulling out of you, causing you to let out a whine at losing the high.

“Ride me.” He said, laying down next to you. You quickly climbed ontop of him, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips. You reached inbetween the two of you and rubbed the tip of dick along your pussy before sinking down on him.

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, throwin your head back. You placed your hands on his chest before slowly moving up before sinking back down again. Rafe tightened his grip on your waist, his eyes never leaving your chest.

Even after all this time, your tits were still his favorite thing. And he kept his word and somehow managed to find bars with an ‘R’ on them. And of course, there were many pictures taken that night as he could barely keep his hands off of you.

Rafe leaned forward and attached his mouth to your tits, his hand going up to grasp the other one, kneeding it between his fingers. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing yourself closer to him, moving your hips back and forth.

Rafe pulled away from your tits, looking up at you as you looked down at him, just keeping eye contact for a while. He leaned back on the bed, causing you to lean forward with him, placing your chest directly on his as he placed his feet on the bed, driving his dick into you at a fast pace.

He let out a moan at hearing your whimpers in his ear, nails digging into his skin. He turned his head to the side and pressed his lips to yours, not once faltering in his pace. He felt you tighten around him and pulled away from the kiss, “Shit, baby. You’re squeezing the fuck out of me.”

“I wanna cum,” you begged, leaning forward to place kisses on his neck, “Please make me cum, daddy.”

How he could he not give you what you wanted when you begged for him like that?

He flipped you both over, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you at a brutual pace. All that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping on skin and the occasional moans from the both of you.

Rafe placed a kiss on your ankle as he watched you play wih your tits, squeezing them in your hands. He felt you tighten around him once again and licked his thumb before bringing it down to rub your clit.

Your back arched off the bed as his thumb moved in circles, bringing you closer to the edge. You grabbed onto the sheets, closing your fist around them as you felt the knot begin to grow in your core.

“You wanted to cum,” Rafe growled, thrusting hard after each word, “So cum.”

And that’s all it took for the knot to snap. You let out a loud moan as your legs shook around his shoulder, gripping the sheets tighter in your fists as Rafe never stopped the brututal pace he was going at, chasing after his own release.

His hips faltered as he began to slow down as he felt his cock twitch, shooting out his cum as he began to catch his breath.

Rafe pulled out, causing you to let out a quiet moan at the feeling as he laid next to you. You turned to look over at him, watching as his chest moved at an irregular pace. You shot up as you looked closely at his face, noticing the tears that built up, looking for a chance to escape.

“Rafe…” You spoke in a quiet voice as he sniffled, looking over at you. His lip quivered as his tears started to fall. You scooted closer to him, pulling him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around him as he buried his face in your chest, tightening his grip around your waist, letting out sobs.

You looked up at the ceiling as tears of your own began to show up, placing a kiss on his head as you rubbed his back, “It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

But both of you knew that it wasn’t going to be okay.

[myjjbaby]

could you do a jj imagine where she’s Sarah Cameron’s sister and he always is like the kooks suck but like is literally in love with her cause she’s the nicest kook. and like they fall in love and it’s just fluffy?❤️

the bet

author’s note - this one is being posted early because I hit 100 FOLLOWERS and i wanted to show my appreciation. for that reason, she is unedited so love don’t judge

synopsis - requested by anon! JJ makes a bet with Sarah Cameron for a new bike but who need that anyway?

warnings - underage possession and use of drugs (weed) and some swearing. 1.2k of first meetings

“I still can’t believe your macking on Sarah Cameron.”

The four Pogues and Kook in question were all laid out of the ‘HMS POGUE,’ teasing the couple.

“JJ, I’m literally right here and not all Kooks are terrible.”

“Oh yeah? Topper, Rafe, Kelce, that girl Emma, even your little sister sucks. Cameron you’ve got to face the facts.”

“Y/N? She’s an absolute angel.”

“Y/N Cameron? I didn’t even know she existed. Wheezie, however, is the devil reincarnated.”

The crew chuckled as JJ continued to poke fun at the rich folks living on Figure Eight.

“So, Y/N?”

“She’s my younger sister by a year, really sweet and really laid back. You’d like her JJ.”

“Me,” he gave the Cameron girl a look, “me? I will never like a Kook.”

Kie and Sarah both shouted in disagreement each giving a slap to the back of the blonde boy’s head. They continued laughing and drinking, soaking up the summer sunshine out on the marsh. Their chatter continued on, JJ, however, couldn’t help but think back to the newly discovered Cameron sibling.

“Why haven’t we met this sister of yours, Sarah?”

“She’s actually smart,” they all looked confused at her, “smart enough to know that y’all wouldn’t want a bunch of Kooks invading your infamous Keggers. So, she just stays away.”

“A Kook with brains? Who would’ve thought.”

That earned him another slap to the back of his head, blonde curls falling onto his forehead and into his eyes. They all laughed as JJ jokingly tried to size the culprit of the hit, Kiara, up.

“Alright, I’m making a bet.”

All four of Sarah’s friends turned towards her, all of them intrigued by a challenge.

“JJ will fall for my sweet sister Y/N by the end of the summer.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll buy you a new bike.”

The Maybank boy smiled at the prospect of getting a new one. He just couldn’t fall in love, easy. He smirked, muttering something along the lines of you’re going down before shaking hands with the Kook princess.

“Alright, tomorrow morning I’ll be here on the jetty with JJ’s future in tow.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“Nope,” Sarah smirked, popping the ‘p’ before pecking John B on the lips and heading into her big Figure Eight mansion.

The original four headed back along the marsh maze, dropping Kie and Pope off before heading to the good old chateau. The two best friends did their handshake before bidding a good night and heading to their respective rooms.

JJ couldn’t help but think back to the bet he made with Sarah Cameron and the next morning where he’d meet this apparently perfect girl.

Shit.

That was the first thing that ran through his head when the Pogues pulled up to the Cameron’s jetty. Sarah stood there confidently with you in tow and JJ couldn’t help but think you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. You appeared so care free with a messy braid running down your back and a soft smile brightening your features.

JJ walked closer to the boat’s rim and offered a hand to help the siblings onto the boat.

“Good day, m ‘ladies.”

Sarah offered a slap before stepping into JB’s waiting arms and you couldn’t help but giggle at the new boy’s antics. The blonde’s hand was warm when it encapsulated yours and his smile took your breath away. JJ happily smiled when your cheeks blushed.

You waved softly at Kie, recognizing her from the multiple nights she had stayed in your house and high-fived John B, your sister’s, much improved your opinion, boyfriend.

Pope stayed behind the wheel and offered a kind wave before introducing himself. You joked back and forth with him until a relaxed quiet settled over the group.

Laying back on the bow of the blue fishing boat, you barely noticed JJ as he approached, all of his friends watching closely out of the corner of their eyes.

“Hey.”

You peeked at the blonde boy through your sunglasses while he tried to keep his gaze trained on yours and not travel down your seemingly perfected tan. You slid over to provide the unnamed boy with some space before sitting up completely, introducing yourself. He seemed rather quiet, the demeanor shocking his onlooking friends. Maybe Sarah was onto something.

“So, JJ,” his name rolled off your tongue, “What do you do for a good time?”

“This, basically. And surf when the waves are decent.”

“Sounds pretty nice. I love surfing, used to compete but a knee injury knocked me out.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

You simply shrugged, brushing off the topic. You were trying to maintain a relaxed persona, but it was hard when this far too pretty boy was talking to you and your sister was winking. A deep flush rose up through your body, turning your cheeks red and your heartbeat rushed.

“You wouldn’t happen to smoke, would you?”

It was heaven in his ear. JJ was fully convinced you were some kind of angel when you blushed and innocently asked to smoke with him.

“Do I smoke? Baby, you’ve come to the right guy.”

His smile pressed against his cheeks when he made you laugh.

“Give me a sec,” he begrudgingly moved your legs, which had, much to his excitement, laid out across his lap, “I’m gonna grab a blunt.”

JJ shuffled to the stern of the boat and asked Sarah and John B to move so he could reach his stash of weed. Ignoring the looks from the couple, the blued eyed boy quietly grabbed a pre-rolled blunt and headed towards you again.

“This stuff is strong but don’t worry, I won’t judge if you cough a bit.”

You rolled your eyes and took the rolled paper from his finger and slipped it expertly in between your lips. Fishing out his engraved lighter, JJ quickly flicked it until a little flame was alight. Expecting you to hold the blunt out, he didn’t make any moves to hold the metal tool closer to you and his eyes widened almost comically when you leaned forward to slowly burn the tip of the paper.

“This is good stuff,” you took a deep inhale, JJ’s shock increased when you didn’t flinch at the potency, “Kook’s always get the weak dope. It’s gross.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement, experiencing the preppy blunts unfortunately on more than one occasion. He couldn’t help the grin on his face when you offered the blunt back to him which he happily accepted.

The day crawled on and soon enough the sun started to set. Both you and the blonde were still dozy from your high but had sobered up after a chilly swim in the marsh. JJ now held you to his chest, arms wrapped around your figure as you shivered, snuggling deeper into the boy’s sweatshirt on your frame.

The six teenagers were all just enjoying the salty breeze and each other’s presence when you finally succumbed to your heavy eyelids. Sleepily, you inched your face up to kiss JJ lightly on the cheek before hiding your rosy features in his neck.

“Still want a new bike?”

“Shut up.”

His friends quietly snickered at the blue eyed boy but JJ kept his eyes on you. He already knew he lost the stupid bet yet he couldn’t seem to care with a dopey grin on his face and you curled up in his arms.

Fuck getting a new bike. All he needed was you.

[honeypirate]

Just In Case

Part two

Pro hero Bakugou x fem pro hero reader

in my world Recovery Girl lives forever and trains another who can replace her when she retires who she passes the hero title of recovery girl too.

Anyway on to the story that’s probably not as good as I want but oh well.

Warning- angst. Death. Blood. Ya know the works.

Inspiration- Murder In the City // The Avett Brothers

You write a letter every day. A new one so it stays relevant. Every morning you took ten minutes to quickly write out a letter just in case anything bad happens while you’re at work.

You see, being a hero isnt all rainbows and butterflies and ranks. Sometimes it’s boring. But other times, it’s scary and horrifying. Those days where you barely make it out on top because the villains were crafty.

After one hard therapy session filled with worries and tears, your therapist suggested letters. At least one. To your husband. Just in case.

This morning wasn’t different than your last, you can hear your husband in his office across the hall, humming a song you listened to at dinner the previous night. He made your heart happy with everything he did, minus the way he left his used teeth floss sticks on the counter or the way he could be a little loud.

Every morning you write this letter, periodically meeting his eye through your open doors and he’d wink, making you laugh and stick your tongue out.

Today you watched as he moved, methodical, he’s done this every morning and it shows but he still takes care with every movement.

“Are you ready?” He says as he crosses the hallway “we’re needed in half an hour so we should go soon” you smile at him and somethjng settles in your stomach. Something heavy and uncomfortable. Something wrong.

“Yeah I’m almost done” you say and he watches as you fold your letter and place it in an envelope, writing his name followed by ‘just in case’ then sticking it in your top drawer.

The letters he’s been told about. The letters he supports. He’s actually been writing his own to you as well but you both agreed that you can’t read then unless it’s actually happening.

You try to not focus on the hard substance in your stomach or the way it seems to ache. It’s a bad feeling but sometimes your anxiety could cause them for no reason so you tried not to pay too much attention to it.

“Ready” you say softly, pulling down your hero mask to press your lips to his for a moment. He helps you readjust your mask with a pink flush in his cheeks. You’ve been married for years but making him blush is as easy as it was day one.

(Skippy skip)

The villains were smart, drawing all the heroes to different locations. You were climbing the stairs of an abandoned building, going to see if the intel about a bomb on the third floor was true, which unfortunately, it was.

Your hands hovered over the bomb, using your electric quirk to cancel out the wires and stop the timer. A scuffing sound catches your attention and you’re dodging a metal rod that was thrown at you to only be stabbed by one from a different direction.

The villain could control metal with his quirk, throwing the rod at you from one direction when he was coming from a different side. “Huh” you say softly as you look down at the rod through your stomach, the pain not even registering yet. “Poor unfortunate hero.” He lifts you by the metal rod and you scream, white hot pain shooting through you as it tears your abdomen as he slams you into the ground, pushing the rod further through you until it connects to the concrete floor.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay long. I have a hot date later” he says as he restarts the bomb, placing it farther from you so you couldn’t reach it with your powers, then he’s hopping from the third story window and waving at you with a smirk.

Your hand flies to your ear piece “There’s a bomb! Third floor tallest abandoned building in the-“ and that’s all you can get out before the bomb goes off and the building is collapsing.

The area was covered in dust and smoke, ash falling from the sky. You ripped your mask off trying to get more air into your lungs but it didn’t help that a giant piece of concrete was crushing your right arm and part of your ribs and chest, not to mention you’re still attached to the rod.

“Bakugou” you say through your headpiece, coughing up blood and ash “where are you?” He shouts back “the bomb” you muttered back and it sounded wheezy, you could hear the fluid in your lungs. You heard more explosions before he was appearing right beside you.

“Hey there hot stuff” you say and chuckle softly as he brushes the dust out of your hair “I’ll get you out of here. You’ll be okay” he’s saying but his eyes are filling with tears and his brows are knit. “It’ll be okay” you say but he does not look in your eyes. He’s still fretting, trying to think of how to save you.

“Bakugou.” You say in a commanding voice and he looks at you “you’ll be okay” you whisper, your blood covered lips smiling gently. You reach up with your left hand and cup his cheek, brushing away the hot tears that have started to fall. “You’ll be okay” you say again, your voice sounding weaker “no” he whispers “no. I’ll save you. You’ll be fine. I’ll get you help” kirishima is in your headpiece, telling you how he’s sent first responders your way but you can’t hear him.

Your voice is quiet, your hand going limp and falling from his cheek “You are the best part of me”

He doesn’t know where he’s going. He left the police station and was just walking. He couldn’t go home. Not when it was your home too. Not when he knows he’ll just be reminded of you and how you smiled at him this morning. How he woke up to you kissing his neck. How that will never happen again.

Walking into the office he didn’t bother with any of the lights. He puts in his alarm code and numbly makes his way to your office.

If you’re reading this. That means I’ve died.

Oh god I’ve always hated these letters. It’s so dramatic. I’m going to be okay. I have to be.

But just in case, since were up against major villains every day, I’ll write this letter. The 54th I’ve written so far.

Anyway I would regret not saying anything if it was my last day alive. I know I’m going to go home tonight and hold you, kiss you, and spend it like it was my last. This won’t be different than the last 53 letters I’ve shredded.

But. Life is short. It’s short and before you know it it can be snuffed out like a candle in the wind. So here we go.

If I get murdered in the city tomorrow, don’t go revenging in my name. A person dead from such is plenty, no need to go get locked away. I know you’ll blame yourself and get mad and swear revenge. Bakugou I love you. Let go of the hate and the rage. All I want is you to be happy and you to be okay.

But there’s no need to get over alarmed, I’m coming home I know it.

(His tears start to hit the paper, hot big tears blotting the ink and making it hard to see. )

So if tomorrow is my last day. Ill leave this letter in my desk.

Don’t bother with my belongings. Things never really mattered to me, you know that. Donate them. Burn then. Whatever you want.

Tell my sister that I love her. That I’m sorry if she ever doubted that.

I wonder what my parents will say. Probably that they were proud of me. Please let them know how much I loved them. How much I loved my childhood.

Now for you, my love, my sweetheart. The love of my life I’m sure of it. There was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name. The love that let me share your name for these few years.

Thank you. For loving me. For supporting me. For choosing me every day. I’ve never doubted it once. I’ll always be with you, even if you can’t see me.

I'm watching you in your office right now, youre humming that song that played at the restaurant last night.

If I had never seen your face this world would have been such a very different place for me. It would be quieter and colorless. You have truly given me so much in this life that I can never hope to repay you.

You can never know which way your heart will go, but you are the compass leading mine. It will always point to you.

You’ve made me feel alive made me want to live so I could experience all my dreams coming true with you by my side.

I don’t know what else to add

Please, if you know anything, let it be that you were my greatest happiness in life.

I’ll always come home to you

I love you

-y/n

His hand is shaking as he finishes the letter.

He takes a sharp inhale and his knees give out, falling to the floor beside your desk with a soft gasp that turned into a sob as he broke down.

“You. You promised” he whispered between sobs, not even bothering to wipe away the tears as he hugs his arms around himself, hunching forward as his tears make soft patting sounds as the hit the hard wood floor.

He doesn’t know how Kirishima found him but when he runs through the office and sighs with relief when he finds him, he doesn’t move. He stays, broken on the floor, sobbing. Kiri doesn’t freeze, he’s there in a second, wrapping his arms around his best friend. Trying to give him a little comfort.

Kirishima's phone rings and Bakugou growls, taking it from his hand as kiri goes to silence it, pressing answer without looking to see who it is “what” he yells out, his nose stuffy and throat constricted showing how much he’s been sobbing.

Recovery Girls voice is stern through the receiver “You need to get down here right away. She’s alive.”

[jjbabyouterbanks]

Secrets! (Rafe x Reader and Topper x Reader)

Summary: Your dating Rafe but you have secrets that your hiding.

Warning: Smut, cheating, swearing. Please don’t read if your uncomfortable with this.

Requested-

🌺I don’t own the gif, all credit goes to owner🌺

(I’ve had this idea for a while but just didn’t have the motivation to start it! I hope you enjoy it. Sorry if it’s al over the place. I wrote this at 4am)

The sound of loud music and people talking filled your ears. It was the first party that has been thrown by a kook for a while and of course it was thrown by your boyfriend Rafe. You were sitting with your legs in the pool and watching everyone around you dancing and drinking. You didn’t even have to look to know where your boyfriend was, you knew he would be inside snorting lines of coke. You hated that he did that. You begged him to stop multiple times but of course he didn’t listen. All of a sudden a hand was on the top part of your back and you were puched into the pool.

“Oops sorry y/n that was an accident” Topper laughs looking down at you in the pool. Topper is Rafe’s best friend and his girlfriend is Rafe’s sister.

“Topper! Your so annoying!” You yell while trying to get the water out of your eyes. But then all of a sudden more water splashed up in your face when he jumped into the pool.

“It’s just water y/n don’t worry” he smiles and his hands go on your hips under the water.

“Topper what the hell are you doing” you look around to make sure no one is watching you but you don’t move his hands.

“Meet me upstairs in 5 minutes? I have to show you something” he lets go of you and gets out of the pool making his way up stairs.

You had no idea why you decided to follow him, maybe it was the amount of alcohol you had consumed or maybe just out of curiosity. You walked upstairs to see Topper laying on the sun bed on the roof looking at the stars.

You lied down beside him and that’s when one thing lead to another.

Your naked bodies rubbing together, your hands in his hair, his head in your neck while moaning your name, Topper thrusting while his inside of you, him flipping you over so your on top.

It was blurry but you definitely knew what was happening. You knew you were moaning Topper’s name instead of Rafe’s, Topper was filling you up instead of Rafe. But you knew you should have felt guilty but you didn’t. All you wanted was for that moment to never end.

-Two weeks later-

You wake up and look around the familiar room you’ve woken up in hundreds of times before. White sheets wrapped around your naked body, you look beside you to see your boyfriend laying there with the sheets wrapped only around his waist.

You slowly get out of the bed and start putting the clothes back on that you were wearing last night that were now scattered across the floor. After getting dressed you quietly walk to the bedroom door and look over to see Rafe who’s still sleeping peacefully before walking out. 

You were just about to walk out of the Cameron’s house until you heard a familiar voice call out to you “Oh good morning y/n, I didn’t know you were here. You staying for breakfast?” Ward Cameron said loudly as he flipped over the bacon that was sizzling in the pan.

You let go of the door handle and started walking into the kitchen “I would love too”

When you told your family you were dating Rafe they were all so excited, your parents worked for years to try and get in with the Kooks and it wasn't easy, they both grow up as Pogues and didn’t want that life for their daughter so when you said you were dating the prince kook it made them happy. So as much as you care about Rafe part of the reason you are dating him was because you want to make your family proud. You were pulled away from your thoughts as hands went on your hips and you felt a bare chest on your back. 

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye, you know I hate when you do that” Rafe’s hot breath hit your neck as he whispered in your ear his lips touching your ear slightly as he talked. 

“I’m sorry baby you looked so peaceful” you smile and then notice Ward was no longer in the kitchen as he went to wake up the rest of the family for breakfast. As soon as those word left your mouth you were pushed up against the kitchen bench and now facing Rafe.

“That’s not a good reason” his hands slowly moving up your body “I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson” his lips went on yours and straight away his tongue was in your mouth. His body pushing against yours as much as it could.

“Oh my god! Rafe! Stop!” Wheezie calls out and covers her eyes. “Your disguising!”

He pulls away and leaves you standing there “What I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” He walks over grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and passes it to you.

You did really care about Rafe, but you can’t see a future with him. You can’t see yourself having kids with him or getting married. You want to make your family happy but does that mean you have to live a life you don’t even want.

“You coming to Midsummers tonight y/n” Sarah walks around the corner and starts getting her breakfast.

“Of course she is” Rafe answers before you even have a chance to say anything. He walks past you and slaps your butt causing both Sarah and Wheezie to roll their eyes in disgust.

You were excited to go to Midsummers, this is your first year walking in with the Cameron’s which everyone wishes they could do, it’s a privilege being able to do that. They were royalty in the Outer Banks area so that means if your dating Rafe your basically royalty too.

-Midsummers-

“You look beautiful” Rafe pulls you closely and places a soft kiss on your lips. “You ready to walk in there with me princess?”

“Absolutely” you smile at him and hold his hand.

As you walk in with the Cameron’s everyone stops what they are doing and starts clapping. Rafe rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, in a way to try and comfort you. The amount of eyes that were looking at you maded you feel uncomfortable, but there was one set of eyes that you felt staring at you that made you a little less uncomfortable, you turn slightly to see Topper looking you up and down while biting his lip.

After walking around with Rafe greeting his family and friends you excuse yourself to go and get a drink. You walk off and start walking inside to try find something to drink but before you could you feel someone push you up agaisnt a wall in an empty room. “What the fuck y/n” Topper is standing over you about an inch away from your face.

“Top.. you scared me” your hands going onto his chest as if you were going to push him off. 

“You came with Rafe?” You could see the pain in his eyes.

“His my boyfriend Topper, what did you expect?”

One of his hands move from above you and slowly he runs his fingers down your face and neck and slowly down to your breast and leaving his hand on top of your dress.

“Sarah’s my girlfriend but I didn’t come with her, I thought you enjoyed our night together y/n” he squeezes his hand softly making a small gasp escape your lips.

“Top... what we had... it was a one time thing” you bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning as he moves his hand from your breast and pulls up your long slik dress, he moves his hand to your panties and rubs the sensitive part of your heat over the top of your panties.

“If that was true, why are you so wet for me?” He moves his finger alone your panties and feels exactly how much you want him. “You like fucking me and then going home and fucking my best friend?” His lips touch yours as he speaks.

He moves your underwear to the side and pushes the top of his finger inside of you. “Who’s better? Me or Rafe?” He goes in deeper and then adds another finger, you bite your lip and tilt your head back slightly.

“Answer me y/n” he picks up sped and adds a third finger.

Moans feel the empty room “You Topper.. fuck” he smirks and his lips attach to your neck, kissing you but making sure he doesn’t leave any marks.

He picks up the pace with his fingers and your eyes roll back “you want me y/n, you need me.” You knew that what you were doing was wrong but you couldn’t stop. The way Topper made you feel, like your whole body was covered in goosebumps, no one has ever made you feel that way before.

The door swings open and you push Topper away quickly, trying to fix up your dress.

“Y/n? Topper?”

“Wheezie? We were just talking. Top was just explaining..”

She cuts you off “Explaining what? Why your cheating on my brother and why his cheating on my sister?”

“No that’s not true Wheezie” Topper try’s to fix up his pants to make the bugle that was growing not as noticeable.

“You two are disgusting! I’m telling my dad what I just seen and he can deal with it!” She goes to walk out but you grab her.

“Wheezie no! Please don’t tell anyone. I promise we just kissed..” you lied “it’s never happened before” you never use to lie but now it’s becoming so easy for you “we just had a bit to drink.. we got caught up in the moment”

She looks between the both of you and frowns “Fine I won’t tell... but that means you both have to do something for me whenever I want. Or else I’m going to tell them.”

You knew you were going to regret agreeing with her but there’s no way you could let Rafe find out. The whole community would then hate your family. And everything that they have worked so hard for would just disappear. “Okay Wheezie! Just don’t tell” you look at Topper and he just nods his head.

Your definitely going to regret agreeing to this.

[curechocolattymilk]

3, 5, 30, 41, 60 for Mei 5, 18, 34, 47, 67 for Otero aaaand 4, 16, 31, 55 and 86 for Tei?

ooh we got the whole fam here

Long Post Ahead! + Quick spoilers from Kaidan's lineage quest so warning for that

MEI

3. What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames?

She's named after Kaidan's mother actually! Meixiu is her full first name, but she tends to go by Mei. Other nicknames range from Courron calling her Tiny (& her calling him Big Guy - ironic height jokes are these two's bread & butter) or the usual ones her parents give to all the kids (cub, kiddo, kid, etc.).

However, papa Kai is the only one allowed to call her Dart/Dartwing. She had a habit of skittering all over the place as a hatchling, & it just stuck for the two.

5. What’s their relationship with their parents like? What about other relatives?

Mei has a great relationship with her parents, a bit more of a daddy's girl in regards to Kai though lol. Her relationships with her siblings are good as well, save for her twin, Otero, which is a little tense after he had ran off so suddenly. But during & post-Dawnguard they've been reconnecting.

She makes sure to keep in touch with Tei's side of the family & visits when she can, debating if she ends up running into Rumarin's family during her time in Summerset though. 🤔 Wonder how that will go.

30. When frightened, will they resort to “fight” or “flight”?

Unless cornered, it'll be flight 8/10 times. She'd probably toss out a few spells to distract/disorient the perceived threat before booking it. Don't get me wrong, Mei can hold her own, but she'd rather not be caught in a scuffle if she can avoid it

41. What does their laugh sound like? Do they snort when they laugh? How often do they laugh?

Very high-pitched & wheezy, 100% a snorter. It's a laugh you'll hear often because Mei tends to laugh at her own dumb jokes

60. Describe the way they sleep.

If you were to watch her sleep, for some odd reason, you would probably develop second-hand backpain. Mei is extremely limber and sleeps in the weirdest positions no problem. Though to be fair, it's hard to find a decent sized bed when you're 7 & a half feet tall - she has to make do with what she has.

OTERO

5. What’s their relationship with their parents like? What about other relatives?

Not the best, especially with Tei. The two butted heads a lot when Otero reached his teens; the discovery he had inherited werebeast blood was the push over the edge for him.

Really the only relative he's actively reaching back out to is Mei, though he might slowly try & reconnect with everyone else over time.

18. What languages can they speak? Where did they learn these languages?

Cyrodilic, Dovahzul, & a small bit of Yoku. The first was the main language taught to him as a hatchling, though Tei would teach him the latter two alongside his siblings. Otero actually has conversations with Durnehviir in the dragon language, be it whenever the dragon is able to fly around in Skyrim or if he visits them in the Cairn (the events of Vigilant may or may not have made the whole soul thing a non issue)

34. How easily do they trust others with their secrets? With their lives?

Not very easily, Otero prefers to be closed-off & self-sufficient. The only exception to this trait is Pelath, but he was kinda forced to trust the Altmer with his life because they were dependent on each other to escape Bal's realm. Regardless of the fact, Pel is probably the only person Otero truly trusts.

47.  What’s their pain tolerance like?

Pretty high I suppose? It was something that had to build-up through their time as a Vigilant & later a Dawnguard - fighting daedra & vampires hurts bro

67. Is their bedroom messy? What about their bathroom? Kitchen? Living room?

His bedroom is 100% a mess only he can navigate. Maps, cool rocks, materials, mission notices, you name it, it's scattered in there. But Otero can still find whatever he's looking for! As for shared spaces, like a kitchen or bathroom, Otero will make sure to keep it clean - or at the very least, clean up after himself.

TEI

4. Do they have any siblings? How many? Are they older or younger?  Which sibling are they the closest with?

Yes they do, two in fact! Tei has an older sister, Tamit, who is a teacher in Cyrodiil & a "twin" brother (hatched the same day he was born) Azahael, who is apart of Hammerfell's naval defense. Tei is definitely closest with Aza, the two were thick as thieves' as kids & always caused trouble together.

16. Are they religious?

They follow the Redguard (Yokudan) pantheon, specifically the goddess Tava. Tei doesn't really acknowledge the Divines all too much, & is in-fact a bit resistant to this "Imperial cult;" but they aren't going to tell you to abandon that faith if you follow it, y'know?

31. Does this character ever put somebody else’s needs before their own? Who do they do this for? How often do they do this?

Despite being a rude little fucker, they do put aside their needs for others.....most of the time. Be it for loved ones or for the random folk being pushed around by everyone else.

55. What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? How bad are their hangovers?

It's not ridiculous, but Tei could probably out-drink one or two Nords at Candlehearth if up for the challenge. They're much more talkative when buzzed & especially when drunk, also gets a bad case of the munchies & will eat all the appetizers/snacks if you aren't careful.

Hangovers are the worst though & they'd probably be asking the poor soul watching over them that next day to just put them out of their misery.

86. How do they celebrate holidays? How do they celebrate birthdays?

Whether it's Hammerfell specific holidays or ones that are celebrated all across Tamriel, Tei likes to enjoy them to the fullest! They'd rather it be with close friends/family/etc. than a whole town of folk, but won't really argue against the latter either - they just might leave a little earlier. Same goes for birthdays, Tei will make you a cake or birthday dinner - no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Present wise, however, they will either ask what you want & get you that or will just gift you money.

[lennydaisy]

EPIPHANY SERIES // OUTER BANKS // CHAPTER THREE.

(n.) a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand. or suddenly become conscious of something that is very important to you.

              “Care to seize the day, my friend?”

Outer Banks                                                                                                                  Season 1-                                                                                                                      FEM OC! and ?

Here’s the link to Chapter Two in case you haven’t read it already <3 Check it out!!

Babysitting isn't for everybody. And at the beginning, I didn't think I was for me either. They say every child is different and this job has proved that couldn't be more true. Call it delusion, but I thought babysitting would be the easiest job on the planet.  Getting paid to look after someone's kid for a few hours whilst they run for the hills for a sliver of free time.  Sounds easy enough right?

Wrong!

You need to have thick skin when it comes to babysitting. No matter how much the parents reassure and praise their kid for being a literal angel on earth. That said angel will call you a do-do head at least once whilst simultaneously having a tantrum because you told them no, despite how much they promised that their parents allow them to climb onto of the refrigerator.

The first time I babysat it was actually a baby I was watching. The mom wanted to get out of the house and away from the responsibility of her 6-month-old. She had graciously written up any and every scenario that could play out in the few hours she was gone. And I was feeling confident. Until I wasn't.

They wouldn't stop crying. And their special lamb, that the board told me to give to the baby when they were upset, ran out of batteries, and I couldn't find new ones anywhere.

They refused to eat, just spitting the pureed food back in my face. They also wouldn't keep their socks on and that was the last straw for my sanity. I understood now why the mom had been quick to run out the door.

I ended up calling Kie, begging for her to come and help. I don't know how she understood a word I said, I was practically hyperventilating over the line, staring at the baby who was crawling around in a fit of rage.

Kie was truly a godsend. She somehow fed the baby and managed to get them to sleep before the mom came back. It did result in me splitting my first wage with Kie, but I wasn't complaining, I was just happy that I made it out of that house with just a headache and not an external crisis. Though that did come later.

I've babysat an 8-year-old boy, who ran away from me in the park. I did find him eventually. After giving myself a hairline fracture in my right wrist from climbing the tree he got stuck in.

I've babysat animals before. That wasn't part of my non-existing contract, but the way they spoke about their pets was very humanlike. It didn't end well for me, it never does. It resulted in me holding four leashes of four overly excited Komodo Dragons. Just kidding. The refused to move and lacked any type of emotion.

'I took you guys to the beach, be grateful.'

Now, I know what you're thinking, Komodo Dragons? Aren't those Illegal to have as pets? The answer to that question is yes! But I didn't know that. Just imagine Shoupe's face when he saw me practically dragging not one, but four, exotic animals across the boneyard. It looked suspicious is all I'm going to say.

Turns out the two guys who asked me to babysit their dragons for them we're smugglers who purchased and sold exotic animals. Not good. Apparently, they were already under the police departments radar and the pair planned on legging it to the in-country hoping to change and clear their names.

That worked out well for them, I think? Nothing else was really mentioned of it after my dad collected me from the police station. They're still on the radar, I hope. If not then there are two brawny men out there that could come and kill me in my sleep for ruining their very illegal business. Look, If you are up to some suspect things, my dumbass is the last person you'd want to be involved. I will unironically get you caught.

That's how Ward Cameron had heard about my very pristine babysitting service. Noticing the little bit of trouble that always seemed to shadow me, he offered to hire me permanently as his youngest daughter's babysitter.

That was three years ago, and here I am still babysitting Wheezie.

"This is stupid," Wheezie complains, trudging behind me, pushing forward the shopping cart filled with lost items that we found on the beach.

Since there is no internet in Kookland, in other words, Wheezie's heart line is currently in critical care. I decided to venture outdoors with her for a change. Instead of just sitting around her three-storey clubhouse or in her four-acre backyard, I thought it would be nice to comb the beach of any debris that the hurricane brought along.  

There was a lot of personal items that washed up on the beach too. Wallets, bags, photographs, books, clothes, wine bottles, footballs, toys, you get the gist. Most of them were ruined, either waterlogged or just completely useless. However, somethings just needed a good clean, and that's what we are going to spend our day doing. There is no way of telling what belongs to who, so we'll just turn them into the lost and found and hope they'll check there if it was important enough to them.

Our two trollies worth didn't even make a dent in the rubble that litters the beach, but it was a start. Say hello to a summer of hard labour.

"There was a hurricane Wheezie, have some sympathy" I roll my eyes at the girl who was less than thrilled about today's plans.

"I do have sympathy," she claims defensively, "It's just pointless.  No one's gonna come looking for this junk," eyes flickering through the findings in her trolley.

What we found isn't pointless. They belong to someone. I think about it the same way I did as a kid when I wanted every single teddy bear in my bed at night so none got left out, so I didn't hurt their feelings. A ragged old soccer ball might look worse for wear, but it has a home and I going to get it back there.

"It's not junk," I object, stopping momentarily, waiting for the stroppy pre-teen to catch up. "Say you lost your phone and someone found it, and returned it too you. You wouldn't be grateful?" I theorize in terms that I know she would understand.

"My dad would just get me a new one," she shrugs nonchalantly, not missing a beat.

"Well, not everyone's fortunate that way," I remind her, blinking suddenly as the sun shines on something reflective in the cart, blinding me.

Reaching towards the sparkling object, I realise that it appears to be quite expensive. It's a glass ashtray. Rubbing the damp sand off the surface, my thumb feels an engraving. In swirly calligraphy, reads the initials:

'S.G'

"I'm sorry," Wheezie apologizes, wincing when she heard my comment, "I didn't think-"

"-It's okay," I smile at the girl. It's not like I don't understand my current life situation. It's pretty shitty, I know, but I live with it. I was born a Pogue for a reason. I wasn't supposed to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth, though that doesn't mean I hate those who are. They have it easier than me and my family, sure, but that's just how it is in the Outer Banks. Some are more fortunate than others. It does, however, leave a sour taste in my mouth that Kook parents will just throw money at there children to get them to shut up, but that's just a Pogue's opinion.

The generators haven't kicked in yet, seeing as though the Camerons security code gate is bouncing loosely against its unlocked hinges. Holding the gate open for Wheezie to push by with her cart, I catch a glimpse of their usually perfectly mowed lawn. Instead, I see plenty of fallen trees and scattered branches, broken plant pots, and ruined garden monuments. It’s not a good look, especially for the high-class Camerons.

That just goes to show, hurricane's don't show mercy on anyone, Kook or not.

As a wise man once said; 'Thanks Agatha, ya batch.'

Parking our carts beside the Cameron's private pool, away from the workers who are just trying to do their jobs. I turn to Wheezie saying, "You go get some soapy water and gloves and I'll empty the carts."

Nodding her head, she rushes into her house, leaving me slightly confused, 'Where did the sudden enthusiasm come from?'

Emptying the carts, I lay out what needs to be cleaned the most: from a bronze candlestick holder to a old, yet unique, shoe buckle, and everything in between. And of course, the ashtray. 

Holding it gently in my palms, legs crossed against the cold slabs, I couldn't help but feel hypnotised by the intricate marks that littered the tray. It truly was a lost treasure.

"I'll take that," announces a voice from behind my hunched figure, jumping when a hand snatches the tray from my grip.

Coming to my feet, I'm ready to snatch the tray back from the sudden thief, but I stop when I realise who it is. Why am I not surprised, I am on their turf.

If it isn't dumb, dumber and dumbest.

Throwing the delicate glass from hand to hand, Rafe lets out a low whistle, "Check the weight on that," he tosses it to Kelce who was standing tall behind him. Kelce nods his head in approval, of course agreeing with what Rafe has to say.

"Who did you steal that from Pogue?" Rafe smirks thinking he has me sussed out. Not wanting to give the satisfaction that him lobbing around the ashtray is causing me heart amputations, I stare him in the eye, "I didn't steal it. I found it."

"You did, did you," he utters pushing past me, his head low with a sick smile, taking in the view of the tressures that I had laid out, "And what about all this? Did you just find that too?"

I say nothing. He knows the answer to that question. I already told him. I don't need to explain myself, especially not to Rafe Cameron.

His eyes flicker over Wheezie and I's findings, taking in each and everyone with a curious eye,  before he cracked, "Bunch of junk," kicking some of the items into the pool.

All I could do was stare. Stare as someone's possessions sunk to the bottom of the marble pool, clashing and crumbling at the foot of Rafe. I fell sick.

His friend just laughs, egging him on. Kelce patting him proudly on the back, handing him back the ashtray. Rafe turns to face me, that smirk never leaving his face, but I can't look at him. I refuse to.

"-Hey Rafe, dad's looking for you," a soft voice breaks the harsh glare that Rafe was sending my way. Nodding his head at the voice, he holds the ashtray out for me to take.

It was too good to be true.

Gullible enough, I reach out for it, only to have it slip through my fingertips. Unable to hear the shattering of the glass as it hits the red slab, my brain refuses to accept fate as I stare down at the shards.

Laughing lightly, I bite my lip, nodding my head understandingly, not expecting anything less from Rafe. A sharp grip on my wrist snaps up my damp eyes, "See you later, Pogue," he hisses in my numb ear, before marching away as though nothing happened.

Sensing a presence, I meet eyes with the 3rd and final member of Rafe's crowd.

Topper.

Smiling lopsidedly at the well put together boy who hasn't moved or spoken since showing up, "Nice friends you've got there Topper," I say monotoned, watching as the boy snaps out of his trance-like state before following Rafe with a blank expression and his tail between his legs.

Shuddering out a breath, I unclip my waist bag and begin to pick up the chunks of glass. Pausing when a pair of clean, white shoes entre my line of sight, "Careful," she crounches down, picking up a shard, placing it into my bag.

A few minutes of picking up the sizable pieces, all that was left on the slabs was a glittering shimmer. Satisfied with what was salvaged, we stand back up to our full height. It was silent. Awkwardly silent.

"Thank you," I shyly say, not at all pleased that the Cameron girl had caught me in a moment of weakness, but at least she didn't mock me for it.

"Your welcome," she smiles before reaching for the tennis rackets she had thrown on the ground before coming to help me. Certain that was the end of the exchange, I turned back to the pool where pieces of metal and loose book pages float carelessly on the surface.

It was just a bunch of junk anyway.

"Hey," Sarah turns, rubbing the back of her head subconsciously, "I'm going to save mice from the birds," she says, pointing out to the bottom of her garden where the surge has blown over, waterlogging the grass.

I just blink at the girl, confused as to why she is even telling me this. Letting out a gentle huff, "I have a spare racket," she offers, holding out one of the two rackets she has in her hands.

Finally catching what she's throwing, I look anywhere but her direction, "I can't," hoping to find a legit excuse as to why I don't want to help her be a hero for mice. Then it hit me, "I'm supposed to be babysitting Wheezie."

My triumphant smile fell as fast as it came when Sarah says, "The powers back on, Wheezie will not willingly come outside again," still holding out the bat for me to take, "Also, my dad's back, so your shift ended about 20 minutes ago."

The more reasons she adds, the more difficult she is making it to say no, and she knows it as well. Her eyebrows dancing lightly as she waves the racket around like a tempting treat.

Giving in, seeing as though I have run out of excuses to give, I grudgingly accept the racket. Maybe her being the sworn enemy of my best friend would have been a good excuse, but I didn't think of that at the time. And what would I of said:

'Oh, I can't help you, even though you selflessly helped me, because my best friend hates your guts.'

What are we, middleschoolers?

I can't help but feel wrong about it though. Like I'm betraying my role as a pogue, as a best friend. But if I feel that way about just being near the kook princess, that doesn't make me any better than her brother. A judgmental prick.

Let's call it paying back a debt. She helped me, now I'll help her. Tit for tat. Anything to make my mind feel at ease.

Walking behind the women who seemed to be on a mission, I'm met by the shrieking flock of overhead seagulls, each nosediving into the burrows, hoping to catch their next meal.

"Operation ‘Save The Mice’ is a go," she announces, holding out her racket waiting for me to tap mines against hers, declaring our battle. I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why does this concern us?" tapping my racket unsurely against hers.

Nodding her head in confirmation, she takes her stance, eyes now set on the sky. "You have about as much compassion as a rock," she focusses her swing, untimely missing by a long shot. It was entertaining to watch, I'm not going to lie.

"Tell me something I don't know," I reply, leaping back as the girl swings her racket with vigour and fury at the diving gulls. I can't help but laugh at her attempts.

Having enough of my laughter she turns around, a challenging look flaring in her eyes, "Think you can do any better?"

I just shrug my shoulders, twirling the racket around my fingers, smirking at my trick, but Sarah just looks unimpressed. Watching as a flock of gulls take their position to dive,  I jump as high as possible hoping to swat them away.

At that moment I learned something about human capability. Humans shouldn't jump. Like ever. It's embarrassing. What do we expect? To touch the stars? It's nice to dream and imagine that when we push both legs of the ground, arms reaching high, that we are close to flying. Let's just say my non-existing dream to become an Olympic long jumper has just flushed down the toilet.

Another thing I learned is that when you swing a racket, with force, at a cluster of hungry Seagulls, you will get attacked. The only thing between them and they're next meal is me, and they didn't hesitate to remove me from the situation.

Letting out a shriek, I run away from the burrows, hands protecting my head as the birds swoop at me. Without a second thought, I run behind Sarah, using her as a shield to protect my crouching figure from the diving gulls.

After two minutes of fearing for my life, I can't help but chuckle at myself. And Sarah joins in, shoving my arm lightly, pushing me away from hiding behind her. The sudden shove causes me to stumble over my own feet, falling back on the grass. I couldn't help but laugh more, seeing stars as my stomach cramps in pain.

Sarah holds out her hand, trying her best to keep her balance from laughing, offering to help me up. I accept without a second thought, allowing her to pull me to my feet. Both smiling widely at our stupidity.

"Let's get these birds," I smirked at the girl who nodded her head in agreement. Both of us taking a battle stance, ready to defend our people. Or well Mice. They attack us, we attack them.

A cold shadow suddenly covers the setting sun that was shining against us. We let out another shriek, holding each other as we attempt to duck from the relentless gulls, running away from the burrows.

"Sarah!" I hear someone shout over our screams. Too busy protecting ourselves, we didn't even register the voice, "Mason?!" They ask in confusion.

Finally feeling safe enough from the killer birds, I look up to see Mr Cameron making his way towards us with Lana Grubbs at his side. 'Why is she here?'

"We're busy!" Sarah exclaims, picking up and tossing me the racket I had dropped when I fell, going back to swinging at the birds. She takes one side of the burrows and I take the other, waving around my racket. At this point I don't even care about the mice, those birds attacked me! So, I'm attacking them!

"What are you two doing?" Mr Cameron asks, not understanding why his daughter and his hired babysitter are running around like headless chickens.

"Saving mice," I reply, flashing my eyes over to the man, who stands with an ever so slightly amused look. "The birds are having a field day," Sarah adds, pulling me with her, chasing after the devils in the sky.

"Girls, the birds have to eat too," He implies, but we didn't hear any of it, still aimlessly swinging. "No, it's a mouse genocide out here," Sarah states breathlessly.

"It's the circle of life," Mr Cameron's patience was running thinner, "Now come on, I have a human being-" finally introducing the other presence in the garden. This pauses our attack, both looking apologetically at the lady, "-I'm so sorry. I'm Sarah."

Shaking the ladies hand, "This is Lana Grubbs, Scooter's wife," Mr Cameron introduces, "You were storm prepping with him, right?" he asks his daughter.

"Yeah," she answers, still breathless, "He helped me latch the cabin to the Druthers," nodding her head in the direction of the docked boat at the end of the pier.

'It's a nice boat,' I thought taking in the beauty of the three-story yacht, 'You can't hide money, huh.'

"Last night?"

"Yeah."

"And did he go out after that?"

"From here?"

"Yeah."

"No. Are you crazy? There was a hurricane," Sarah laughs lightly at the thought of someone willingly going out during a storm.'I could think of a few people,'  bringing my attention back to the two adults in front of me.

"Well, did he say where he was going?" Miss Lana asks, her eyes erratic, "Get a phone call or mention anything?" The desperation lacing her voice makes my heart stop with sympathy for the woman.

"He didn't say anything to me," Sarah shakes her head, her tone not hiding her pity for the lady.

"What about you Mason?" Mr Cameron asks me, "Have you seen Scooter recently?" his questions sparking Miss Lana to look my way, her eyes glistening with withering hope.

"The last I saw of him was when Pope and I delivered to your house," regret instantly hit me, as I had to be the bearer of bad news. It was true though. The last time I saw Scooter was earlier this week when he opened the door for his groceries. I've seen him at Save-A-Lot a few times, but that was months ago when I had to tell him to leave because other customers were complaining that he was bothering them for money.

"I'm sorry," I apologise to the lady who just shakes her head, looking at the ground.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asks her dad who just nods, wrapping an arm around Miss Lana, "He's absolutely fine," he reassures Sarah, before guiding the dazed woman back towards the house.

"Oh!" I hear Mr Cameron exclaim, spinning round to face me, digging through his pockets, "Thank you for watching Wheezie today," he says, placing a brown envelope in my hand.

"Thank you, sir," I smile with gratitude as he makes his leave again.

Sighing, I slap the envelope a few times in my hand, turn back to a Sarah. I go to snap her out of her daydream, but get interrupted by a distant voice, "Hey Sarah!"

At the top of the disarranged lawn stood a scornful Topper, hands in his pockets as he looks down on us, making his way over at a snail pace.

"You better go," I flick my head in the direction of her boyfriend whose eyes are slitted with distaste. Holding out the racket for her to take, she nods her head and makes her way over to Topper, not even sparing me a glance.

I get it.

"I want you to stay away from that pogue, alright?" I hear him utter not so quietly under his breath, knowing fine well that I'm still able to hear him. I pay him no mind, finding my own way out. That's what he wants. Attention. That's always been what Toppers wants. And I'm not going to give him that satisfaction. Not anymore.

Humming a gentle tune under my breath as I make my way towards the gate. I double-take when I spot a hunched figure sitting by the pool, "Wheezie?"

My sudden appearance spooking her as she ripped the earphones out from her ears, the buds projecting a catchy pop beat. The girl sat on the cold slabs, clad in yellow rubber gloves and safety goggles, surrounded my various cleaning tools: a basin of soapy water, a toothbrush, a blow torch?

"What are you doing?" I ask sceptically, making my way towards her as she stuttered over her words before giving up with a sigh.

"I heard what Rafe said," she admits, her voice low as though afraid to speak out against her brother. That's the Rafe effect. He gets off on it. Knowing that everyone around him, his family included, is too scared to tell him he's a mess with even messier opinions. "And it not true," she adds.

Wheezie walks over, holding out the shoe buckle that we found on the beach. The once rusted and unrecognisable buckle now sparkled a blinding silver, and despite its eroded corners, it was still in great condition, "Pretty, right?" she notices my expression, "That's not the best part," she claims, turning over the buckle,  holding it out of me to take.

Engraved on the silver base scribed, 'Made in Occupied Japan.'

"I couldn't save everything, like books and stuff, but I tried my best. I even made a box and everything," She rambles, rushing over to pick up the homemade box that read, "Lost and Found," painted in bold, pink lettering. In the box sat: a polished pin, the candlestick holder, a handful of leather wallets and all the other salvageable treasure that we found. And now the shoe buckle.

"It's not junk," she says, passing me the box, "They belong to someone and I hope they find them," she says, rubbing the back of her tinted red neck, finally understanding why I had her help me in the first place.

It's not junk.

I'm not great when it comes to other peoples emotions. They make me want to shrivel up and go invisible, but I can't help but admire the girls change of heart, but I'm still awkward so, I just ruffle her hair, hoping the annoying act conveys my gratitude.

Having enough of me for one day, Wheezie pushes me toward the gate, practically kicking me out. "See you next time kid," I shout over my shoulder, smiling as her face grovels at the word 'kid'.

Basking at my long journey home, I give up attempting to balance the light box in my arms. I place it on the sidewalk, unzipping my waist bag wanting to tuck the brown envelope, that I was struggling to hold, away. 

The clattering of glass pauses my actions. Reaching in, I pick out a small piece, watching as the setting sun danced across the surface, shining every colour of the rainbow onto the tarmac.

'S.G'

Chapter Three: FIN!

I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even though it’s kind of filler. Kie would be proud of Mason for beach combing, her tendencies are rubbing off on her.

I choose for Mason not to go to the motel because that’s just what I choose, I don’t really have a reason why. Well I do, but I can’t tell you yet. You’ll find out eventually, if my idea goes to plan...

So we learned about Mason very perfessional babysitting service. Also I know that Rafe is, y’know bad, but I’m excited to explore Mason’s relationship with him. It will be interesting to write!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to write the next chapter. Mason is going to get buzzed.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

Also, if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters, just let me know and I’ll for sure do that!

*TAGLIST*

@xshinytrashcanx​ @prejudic3​ @annoylinglyaries​

[artificialqueens]

There's No One There, 3/? (Group fic) - Marmalade

Summary: One student missing multiple classes without warning can be explained away but when more girls start disappearing, it can’t be dismissed. Jaida, Jackie, Gigi, and Crystal may not be friends but if it’s to figure out what’s going on, they’re willing to work together.

A/N: Hii, I’m just going to make a habit of putting the summary in front of each submission. In other news, I’m not vibing with the pen Marmalade but I haven’t figured out a new name yet and we’ve reached a point in the story writing where I’ve had to make a separate notes page to keep my flow right. I’ve been trying to come up with an all girls boarding school mystery for ages now and it feels good having one.

—–

The search for Widow kicked off to a worrying start. Gigi chose to accompany Crystal, mainly to avoid stepping in mud with Jaida and Jackie as they walked around the school asking about Jan. Widow hadn’t been in any of her usual spots and none of the four shared a class with her after lunch forcing them to resume their search after the school day had ended. Their final bet was checking her dorm.

“What’re we gonna do if we go and she’s not there either and we have another missing person?” Crystal asked as she reached into her pocket to pull out some of the candy she had grabbed yesterday. Gigi was keeping a few feet of space between the two of them in the hopes that it wouldn’t seem like they were hanging out but Crystal’s outstretched arm offering her pieces of candy destroyed the illusion. Gigi begrudgingly took the piece of candy and inspected the label.

“I don’t know. Tell the others and wait for them to come up with a plan instead?” Crystal let out a laugh. “…What flavor is duranzo?”

“Peach? Ooooor maybe orange? I don’t know, my mom never actually taught me Spanish. I just know that brand’s like, good fruity taffy things.”

“Oh, can’t then.” Gigi handed the piece back to her.

“How come?”

“Does it matter? We’re trying to find a missing girl; are we close to Widow’s dorm yet?”

“Yeah! It’s just a little farther ahead!” Crystal powerwalked down the hall until she arrived at her friend’s dorm, her curled hand raised to knock before she stopped. There was a whisper behind the door, she heard it but couldn’t make out any details, and she waited a moment for the voice to speak again but nothing else came. Gigi had caught up to her so Crystal finally knocked.

“Widow, are you thereee?”

There was a faint sound of shuffling before the door opened and a sudden chill took both girls by surprise. At first the door only cracked open, Crystal leaned to the side to flash a smile and the door opened wider, revealing Widow to be thankfully not missing. There were dark circles under her eyes but she somewhat returned the smile before she spotted Gigi, her brows knitted together.

“Since when do you two hang out? Whatever- what do you want?”

“Since now, sort of.” Gigi interjected.

“I wanna know what’s been bothering you! A lot of weird stuff’s been going on and I’m worried about you.”

Widow let out a quiet, wheezy chuckle and shook her head.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well, for starter’s you brought someone neither of us know basically at all to have a serious conversation.”

“We can talk in private if you want, can I come in?”

Widow looked back into her dorm and then to Crystal. “…Now’s not a great time for that.”

“Why, who were you talking to in there?”

Widow opened her mouth but closed it without saying a word. Her eyes narrowed inquisitively and she looked over Crystal’s face like she was trying to find something. “You wanna know what my problem is? This damn school. The same walls, the same people, the same shit every god damn day, it can drive a bitch crazy and this place is damn good at it. Trying to make sense of it is a complete mess.”

“Maybe it’s a mess because you’re trying to do it all yourself?”

“…Fine.” It was only one word and yet it made Crystal’s face light up. “I’ll tell you because I know you won’t judge me if I tell you but I don’t know Gigi like that. Not here though, the walls have got ears or something, just meet me in town this weekend, okay?”

-

“I can’t believe we haven’t found a single witness. It’s not like she could jump through space.” Jackie said as she wrote another name down on the list. They knew the walk around the school was unlikely to turn up any tangible clues but both girls had expected to find some students that would be able to provide useful information. Jackie had been able to gleam was that Jan had now missed two full days of class without anyone seeing head or tails of her but that was about it.

They made their way back to the school’s entrance, curious if Crystal and Gigi had better luck then them. Standing in the doorway was Vice Principal Visage, they passed by her without paying her any mind only for her to stop them.

“Jaida, Jackie, will you both come with me?” She phrased it like she was asking but the both knew they had no option.

“What did we do?” Jackie asked but Miss Visage didn’t answer, only spinning on her heels and beckoning them after her, keeping them in silent suspense as they made their way to the principal’s office. Jackie gulped and held her notebook close her chest.

Crystal and Gigi sat on chairs outside of the headmaster’s office and got onto their feet upon seeing Miss Visage. She opened the door to the headmaster’s office without knocking and poked her head in. “The girls are here.”

“Send them in.” Miss Visage swung the door open and ushered them inside. At his desk was the headmaster, Rupaul, his fingers steepled together. There were only two chairs in front of his desk and the girls weren’t sure which two of them ought to sit down, or if they even should sit.

“I’ve been hearing that you four have been really on edge recently, care to tell me what’s this all about?”

There was a beat of silence before all of them but Gigi stumbled over each other trying to explain. The headmaster put his hand up to silence them and then gestured to Jackie to go first.

“Sir, last week Nicky stopped showing up to classes and now Jan’s missed two days’ worth of classes. Both of them were acting out of character before then and, well, we’re concerned that something might have happened!”

The headmaster didn’t respond right away, instead twisting his fingers together. Finally, he stood up and turned to the cabinets behind him, patiently going through them until he deposited two files onto his desk and sat back down, pressing his hand down on top of the manila folders.

“Giving out student information to anyone outside of their immediate families is a violation of student privacy…” A small, reassuring smile formed on his face. “-so, this doesn’t leave this office. Let’s see…” He picked up the first folder and looked through it. “Ah, Nicky. I’m sure you’re aware that most of her family still lives in France, her sister is getting married and from the sound of it, Nicky was left out on a lot of the planning. She left on a flight last Thursday for the wedding but between you and me, I think her parents are letting her skip more class than necessary, and she’s scheduled to return by the time class starts up after the break. Going to be interesting to see how she catches up on all her missed work.

Now Jan, Jan had been coming in to see the counselor a few times. Juggling grades with extracurriculars and her social life got overwhelming I suppose. One of the campus security guards caught her trying to leave campus without permission and we contacted her parents. After a long discussion they decided to have Jan sent home, now they’re trying to decide if returning to school is still the right choice for Jan, unfortunately, we’re expecting their final answer sometime during the break.”

“But- that doesn’t sound like the Jan I know!”

The headmaster hummed and nodded, putting the folders back in their places. “Do you girls know why you’re here?”

“In the office?”

“At this school.”

“Be…cause you don’t charge tuition?” Gigi replied dryly with a raised eyebrow.

“Because we saw something great in each and every one of you. The girls at this school aren’t here because they have the highest test scores or because their parents shelled out a lot of money to put them here, they’re here because each of them has the potential to do something amazing in whatever field they choose. That’s why we try to keep the school’s cost as low as possible, so that girls who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance can have this opportunity. This school is hard, you knew that when you applied but the sad truth is that not everyone can handle it.

All those voices in your head that tell you ‘you can’t do this’ and ‘you should quit’ that’s your inner saboteur trying to tear you down. Your job is to quiet those voices but some girls can do it better than other. If you ask me, you four need to worry about yourselves. In a matter of days, you’ve managed to make yourselves completely paranoid. Put down the magnifying glasses and go do something you enjoy! Like you, Crystal, I know you’re an artist. I’m going to challenge you to put all that creativity onto a canvas. This goes to all of you, I want you to find an outlet for all this negativity because what you’re doing now isn’t helping. Okay? Now get out there, go learn something, kiddos.”

The four girls were released back into the hall where they found themselves rooted in thought.

“So that’s it?” Gigi was the one who broke the silence. “We worked ourselves up over nothing? Two days of anxiety and work that we didn’t have to put ourselves through?”

“Maybe we all just wanted there to be a mystery that we filled in the blanks?” Jackie conceded. She feathered through the pages of her book until she found her page of notes. It felt absurd now, childish even.

“Look, child, maybe we did go off the rails but-! If something had happened, we would have been on top of everything. Of course, now we’re getting court marshalled to find hobbies but you know.” Jaida’s lips pulled into a smile and she laughed but no one really joined in.

“Guess we’re done then. No more of-“ Gigi gestures vaguely to the group. “-whatever this is. We can go back to our normal social circles now.” It was an odd realization, none of the girls had ever hung out with one another and yet they fell so quickly into a groove for the sake of a mystery. Now that the mystery was gone there was nothing to keep them together anymore. An awkwardness settled between them like the strangers they were until it was so heavy that they were repelled to their separate directions.

Crystal had remained quiet through out the dissolving of the group, even if they were wrong about Nicky and Jan, Widow still had something going on and Crystal was going to talk to her friend about it. As she took her leave, Crystal heard a hushed murmur and stopped, looking back over her shoulder at the other girls but they were already out of earshot with no one else in the hall.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Like Mother, Like (not) Daughter

Joan couldn’t remember who her parents were. She remembered her brother, but she couldn’t remember the people who brought her into this world. Their names were a mystery to her, and she didn’t even know what they looked like.

Did she even have parents? Were they involved in her life? Maybe they gave her away?

She just...couldn’t remember.

But then Jane showed up in her life again and the sadness of not knowing who raised her went away. She always looked at Lady Seymour like she was the sun; bright, powerful, and keeping her alive. Joan felt safe around Jane, loved, even if the affection wasn’t directed towards her.

After reincarnation, Joan did everything in her power to make sure Jane liked her. She continued to act like a lady in waiting, helping the queen whenever it was needed. If she was being overbearing, Jane didn’t show it. She just smiled kindly and thanked the keyboardist, which nearly sent her into another plane of existence each time.

However, something Joan began to notice was Katherine Howard getting really close to Jane. She thought it was strange- they didn’t know each other in their past lives; why would Jane be treating her like...a daughter?

How was that fair?!

Despite her envy, Joan tried to keep herself calm, even when she heard Katherine call Jane “mum” for the first time. Her blood boiled in her veins and she clenched her jaw so tightly her gums started to ache, but she didn’t say anything.

Oh how she wanted to scream, though.

Maybe she wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe Jane didn’t know.

Maybe Jane just needed a little sign.

And so that’s why Joan called the queen “mum” after another one of their shows.

   “What did you call me?” Jane asks, furrowing her eyebrows together. Did she hear that right? Did Joan just...

   “Oh!” The keyboardist says. She rubbed the back of her neck, grinning sheepishly, “I called you ‘mum’! Cause, like, I see you as a mother figure, actually.”

She smiled wider, a giddy feeling rising in her as she awaited Jane to say she saw her as a daughter.

But...she didn’t.

No, the queen got a pitiful look in her eyes, like she was staring at a wounded lamb.

   “Oh, Joan, love, that’s...that’s very sweet of you, but...” Jane couldn’t seem to find the right words, “I’m. I’m not your mother, love.”

Joan blinked a few times. Her smile fell. She felt a hot coil of embarrassment twist up in her stomach.

   “I-I mean, I know that, but-”

People backstage were starting to stare. Joan wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move.

   “I-I just that, maybe, you would want... I- You-” Her words are coming out knotted and tangled. Instead of trying to continue that sentence, she softly says, “I can’t remember my parents, my lady. And I just thought that-”

  “That doesn’t make me your mother.” Jane says as gently as possible.

   “I know that!” Joan says, her voice raising a few pitches. There’s a few snickers all around her. Her face is glowing, a bright contrast to her usually pale skin, “I-I just wanted someone- You- What about Katherine?”

   “Katherine is a child. She needs a mother to take care of her.”

   “But-”

   “How old are you, Joan?”

Joan’s lips quivered, but she’s quick to bite down on the bottom one, grinding her teeth against the soft flesh to try and gain some grounding. The coil in her stomach tightens and she suddenly feels like she’s on fire.

   “Twenty.” She whispers. Jane gives her a sympathetic look.

   “You’re an adult, Joan.”

Tears burn down Joan’s cheeks and she inhaled sharply through her nose. She nodded shakily as a sob rattles in her chest, which is unable to bite back.

   “I understand.”

With that, she turns away from the queen and walks away.

—————

     It’s been a week since then. Joan has refused to even talk to Jane, let alone look in her eyes. The two blondes made a conscious effort to avoid each other; darting away if they saw black or silver rounding the corner, checking rooms before entering to make sure the other wasn't there.

They were both walking on eggshells, and for good reason.

Jane didn’t mean to embarrass the girl like she did. In fact, she was quite flattered. But her mouth chose other things to say and the broken look on Joan’s wouldn’t leave her. She wanted to make things right.

And maybe she could have, if Joan didn’t keep fleeing like a lamb seeing a wolf every time she came near.

However, an opportunity eventually came forth.

It was snowing. Jane was enjoying the late evening by sewing when her phone rang. Without looking at the caller ID, she reached over and picked up.

The first thing she heard was what she thought was...teeth chattering?

  “Hello?” She says, slightly confused by the noise.

No reply.

“Hello?” She tried again.

Nothing. Only more clattering and a few wheezy breaths.

   “This isn’t f-”

   “L-Lady Jane...”

Jane bolted upright.

   “Joan?”

A tiny whimper.

   “Joan, honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

The second whimper confirmed that the keyboardist was, in fact, not ‘okay’.

Jane leapt up off of the couch and began pulling on her boots and coat.

   “Listen to me, sweetheart. I need you to breathe and tell me what’s going on. Can you do that for me?”

She heard a few shaky breaths followed by a horrible coughing fit that lasted so long that Joan began to make high-pitched wheezing noises.

   “It hurts,” The keyboardist sobs, “Lady Jane, it hurts!”

   “Deep breaths, Joan. Where are you right now?” Jane asks, swiping the car keys from the kitchen counter. “I’m coming to help you.”

   “P-park,” Was all she got in reply before it sounded like Joan dropped her phone and the line went dead.

That was enough to practically give Jane wings and she raced out to the car.

Once she arrived at the location Joan gave her, Jane circled the park a few times, scouring every inch of the snow-covered field. Eventually, she parked and began walking around while calling her former lady in waiting’s name. Finally, she spotted the girl over by some trees, curled up into a tight ball on her side. And she didn’t look good at all. Tear stains were still evident on her cheeks, her lips and fingertips were tinted blue, her face was the color of dead leaves, and she wasn’t moving.

  “Joan!”

Jane raced over to her, throwing her jacket over the keyboardist the minute she was down at her side. She carefully lifted Joan’s upper body off of the snow, cradling her gently against her chest.

   “Joan? Joan, honey, can you hear me? It’s Jane.”

She gave Joan’s arm a light squeeze, hoping to rouse her.

It doesn’t.

The girl is breathing, at least. However, the breaths are coming out very strained and soft, so soft that Jane almost thought she wasn’t even taking in air for a moment.

   “Come on, love, wake up. Please.”

Worst case scenarios began to flood through Jane’s mind. Did Joan have hypothermia? Or frostbite? Was she dying in her arms?

The weakest cough snapped Jane out of her thoughts and she whipped her head down. Marbled green eyes peek out from half-open eyelids. A relieved smile comes across her lips.

   “You’re okay, love,” Jane murmurs to the delirious girl in her arms, “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She pressed the back of her hand against Joan’s forehead and then her cheeks. She didn’t have a fever, not yet at least, but her pale skin was icy to the touch.

   “You need to get warmed up.” Jane decides. Joan doesn’t react, not that she was expecting her to. They keyboardist was clearly in a daze.

Keeping the jacket wrapped around her, Jane carefully lifted Joan into her arms and carried her back to her car. The entire time, Joan was practically a dead weight, making it slightly harder to hold her, but Jane managed.

While unlocking the car and switching on the heater, she heard another cough from below her and Joan wrenches so violently her arms falter and she falls from the queen’s grasp.

Despite falling a short distance and landing on snow, Joan feels like she just fell onto thousands of jagged, razor shard icicles. A freezing shock shoots through every inch of her body and she opens her mouth to scream, but her vocal chords seemed to be frozen.

The snow and biting winds were surely close to cutting her frail skin open. It wouldn’t be difficult, as she had already opened multiple scabs along her arms and legs a few hours ago and the flesh has yet to mend itself and scar back over. Her fingertips were all chewed up and patchy, too, creating easy access for the festering frost that threatened to swallow her up.

God, she feels so heavy. Like she’d accidentally gotten trapped under a pile of snow. She digs and digs and digs but the snow keeps piling on. She’s no closer to breaching the surface.

Her fingers are numb and blue but Joan keeps digging. She had to get out. She’s got a family to back home- Maria and Bessie and Maggie. There’s people waiting for her, relying on her. Joan digs and digs, ignoring the way her breath rattles asthmatically with every inhale. Icicles must be forming in her chest with every breath. Sharp little crystals are coming to life every time her lungs expand and contract, turning the pink muscles a worrying shade of blue.

She cries, but there are no tears. She’s sobbing for her mother (who is her mother? what was her name? what did she look like again? who is she? did she have one?), for someone, anyone to please help her. She doesn’t want to die. Not like this.

Not again.

Joan can’t remember how she died, but the biting cold feels way too familiar in that moment. She’s been in this state before. Freezing and crying and in pain and scared. In the dark she had squirmed until she could barely even wiggle anymore. The frost crept through every inch of her body as she shivered and sobbed and bled for hours.

Bled?

Yes, she remembers the blood. She remembers something snaring around her chest and then intense pain in her ankle. That’s why she didn’t just get up and run. It kept her there. Whatever those things were. She can’t remember. But she does remember the agony and the screaming and the blood.

The blood was the only warmth she got in the last twenty-four hours she was alive.

What killed her first, then? The bleeding or the hypothermia?

Something roused Joan. She gasped and then sobbed again. Her shivering body is hauled upwards and then set on something that isn’t snow. It doesn’t grip into her back like chilled iron claws. It’s almost comfortable.

Slight warmth pressed against an area of bare skin and she shudders away. She tries to figure out what it was, but, even with her eyes open, she can’t see. A blizzard is raging in front of her vision. Is she still outside?

A distant voice calls to her. Joan moaned softly in pain. Her head lolls back and forth for a moment. The voice speaks again. There’s snow in her ears, though. She cannot hear.

A cough made her entire body spasm. Something painful and thorny and so terribly cold coiled in the pit of her stomach and slithered all the way up to her chest, wrapping her lungs up in all its barbed glory. Icicles, she thinks. A big chain of icicles that are freezing inside of her.

But icicles usually don’t get warm, do they?

No. They don’t.

Joan almost wailed when the coil seemed to light on fire and she was suddenly burning. Her skin was so hot, and yet she was still shivering. The blizzard raging in front of her eyes turns black and her arms go limp first, then her legs.

The voice calls out a third time.

———

      Jane doesn’t know if she prefers Joan being awake or unconscious. Being blacked out like she is could definitely be dangerous, but she almost looks...peaceful. Peaceful enough for Jane to move from the backseat to the driver’s side to get back to the house.

She tried to be as subtle as possible, but carrying in a limp, shivering girl is definitely going to be noticed by someone, especially when you live with five other people.

Cleves stopped in her tracks from where she was walking out of her downstairs bedroom. Her eyes darted from Jane to Joan and then back to Jane before they widen in concern.

  “Is she okay?” She asks immediately after doing her double take.

   “I’m...not sure.” Jane admits, “She was outside at the park for God knows how long. I think she had a panic attack and then passed out.”

Cleves frowned and then looked back down at Joan, whose features have become a lot less peaceful from when she initially blacked out for the second time. Her eyes are definitely shut tighter and her skin is leached of all colors, aside from her lips, which are tinged blue. She’s still shivering very badly. A fever has lit in her cheeks.

   “I’m going to go put her in my room,” Jane says. “It’ll be easier to take care of her there.”

   “I’ll carry her up for you,” Cleves offers and scooped Joan up from Jane’s arms without the other queen agreeing.

After Joan was settled under an abundance of blankets and the other ladies in waiting were informed of where the keyboardist was, Jane sat down on the edge of her bed to watch over the girl. She brought her sewing materials up with her and decided to busy herself with making something while she waited for Joan to wake up.

While crossing a stitch, a memory came back to her. It was when she was around six months into her pregnancy with Edward and Henry was making her stay in bed a lot more to ensure nothing happened to her. Joan, eighteen year old, baby-faced, scrawny Joan had been one of her ladies that came to see her the most.

The best way Jane could describe the girl was a second-guesser and a follower. She did what all the older ladies in waiting did, copying them and following them like a little duckling. If she ever tried to do something that she decided on, she would pause, go against her gut feelings, and do whatever it was it the “right way”. Jane never liked how she did this. The girl deserved free whim, she just needed a little push.

   “Do you know how to sew, little one?” Jane had asked with her hands folded neatly over her pregnant stomach.

Joan, who had been cleaning her room in a very periodic, robotic way, paused and looked at the queen. She seemed to be toiling over what was asked, like she thought she heard the sentence wrong. Or, perhaps, she was just startled by the sweet pet name her highness had referred to her with.

   “No, my lady.” She finally said and then turned back to the curtains she was spending way too much time straightening.

   “Then I shall teach you.” Jane decided, once again taking her lady in waiting by surprise. She chuckled at the teenager’s bewildered expression, thoroughly amused by her reaction. None of the others ever acted like this and, while she didn’t like how obedient to the status quo she was, Jane found young Joan to be quite charming. “Come, little one. Grab my sewing kit by the wardrobe, will you?”

Instantly, Joan was moving, snatching the kit up and scrambling to the bed, which she pulled up a chair to sit beside. Jane moves over, which makes Joan visibly nervous and earns another light laugh from the queen.

   “I’m allowed to move, you know,” Jane told her and she notes how easy it is to make Joan’s ears turn the color of fire.

  “I do,” Joan said softly, almost squeaks out.

Jane gives her a soft smile before taking out her sewing materials. She began to explain things to Joan, who listened intently. If she were given a quill and parchment, she definitely would have been writing everything down.

   “Careful, little one,” Jane chided gently when she heard Joan hiss in pain, “Are you alright?”

   “Yes, my lady,” Joan answered swiftly, shaking the hand she had pricked in the air to ward off the stab of pain. “This is...a lot harder than I was expecting.” The pads of her fingers are stinging against the cold sewing needle. Jane quickly took notice on her struggle, especially when she saw the raw pink patches on her fingertips.

   “Are your fingers alright, dear?” The queen asked.

   “Yes, my lady,” Joan quickly answered, “They’re fine. Just a nervous habit.”

   “Chewing up your fingers?”

Joan dipped her head low to hide the shame in her eyes. She only glanced up because a gentle hand is set on her shoulder, then slides up to her lift her chin. There is worry, but warmth in the queen’s eyes.

   “Don’t be ashamed, love. I understand this job must be stressful and you need a way to handle that.” She said, “However, it is not good for you. So, I would like you to come see more often. We can continue our sewing lessons. It might help you get your mind off of your little habit.”

Joan just stared for a moment before, very unexpectedly, leaping forward and hugging Jane tightly. The queen is surprised, but returns the embrace, and that’s the end of the memory.

Jane is pulled from her mind and she blinked her eyes several times to rid the remnants of the past from her head. She couldn’t help but smile, though. She was so unbelievably proud of her lady in waiting, then and now.

Back then, watching Joan gain her own sense of self and branch off from the other ladies in waiting’s routines always made pride swell inside of Jane. Even if she was still timid and uncertain, she started doing her own way of things, and one of them was finally not spending ten minutes straightening the curtains.

One of Jane’s fondest memories is when Joan had presented a lamb plush to her that she had sewn and stuffed herself. She was beaming bright enough to make the sun’s supernova jealous, eagerly retelling the process of making the lamb to Jane, which included getting actual sheep wool and then being chased off of the field by an angry ram. Jane hadn’t laughed that hard in awhile when she heard this.

   “I’m so proud of you, little lamb,” Jane had mused, and the strange pet name rolled off her tongue without her even thinking. By the way Joan’s cheeks dusted pink, she assumed she liked it. The girl did look similar to a baby sheep, anyway.

And then there was present day. Joan was the music director of the show. People were following her, and Jane couldn’t have been prouder.

She just hoped she didn’t ruin their relationship with what had happened a week ago.

Jane once again snaps out of her reminiscing thoughts, but this time it was caused by a tiny whimper. She looked down to see Joan writhing in her bed. It takes her a moment, but the girl’s eyelids eventually open.

   “Shh, shh,” Jane murmurs when Joan immediately began to panic, “You’re safe, sweetheart. It’s just me, it’s Jane. You’re at my house.”

Joan blinked a few times before focusing her blurry gaze on the queen. The look on her face is a mix between pain, shame, and some other emotion. Jane gently brushed her fingers across her cheeks, which are much hotter than they were earlier, to help calm her.

   “It’s okay. You’re alright now.” Jane says.

   “Am I...am...am I...dead?” Joan asks with great effort. Her tongue felt like lead in her mouth, swollen, numb, and heavy. Her throat is ice that has barely thawed out. The icicles are blooming again, poking at the skin beneath her chest, threatening to rip her torso to shreds. She wheezed and Jane strokes back the hair that is plastered to her face.

   “No, honey,” She tells her, “You’re alive. You’re alive and you’re safe now, Joan.”

   “But...”

Joan’s eyes closed again and she strained her brain to try and figure out what exactly happened to her. She remembered the cold and the snow and the pain, but only the pain from the frost. There’s a sensation that’s missing.

She wiggled her right foot and couldn’t feel anything. She took a deep breath next, but nothing was snared around her torso.

Had she not been in the middle of the woods after all?

Where was she before the queen’s house, then?

She didn’t expect an answer. Remembering things didn’t seem to be her strong suit.

Joan takes a few shaky breaths and then looked back up at the woman sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. She can feel Jane’s fingers stroking through her hair, which was soaked in sweat. Why was she sweating when she was freezing cold?

   “Can you tell me why you were out in the park during a snowstorm?” Jane asks and Joan looks as clueless as she was.

   “Why are you doing this?” Joan croaks out instead of answering. Jane seems confused.

   “What are you talking about?”

   “Don’t you hate me?”

Jane’s heart broke at that. She wraps Joan up into her arms and Joan snuggled into her warmth without even thinking.

   “Oh no, honey, no,” Jane says, “I don’t hate you. Why would you ever think that?”

   “B-because of what I said.” Joan whispers and Jane doesn’t need to ask for context on what she was talking about.

   “I will never hate you,” Jane says firmly and then pressed a soft kiss to Joan’s temple, and that is enough to make the keyboardist burst into tears. This time, they flow free.

Jane holds the crying girl close to her, rocking her slowly while rubbing soothing circles against her back. Joan wept steadily, eventually dissolving into a hiccuping, dissociative state of numbness and fatigue. Her eyes, marbled and glassy, are barely open as she drifts in between the state of consciousness and unconsciousness.

   “Wait,” Joan rasps out when Jane lays her back down, “Stay with me? Please?”

   “I need to get some things for your fever,” Jane says, “But I promise I will be right back.”

Jane is only gone for two minutes; any longer and Joan probably would have started to worry that she scared her off. But she showed back up quickly and helped get the foul-smelling medicine into Joan’s system before laying down beside her. The keyboardist is as cuddly as Katherine, Jane notes, if not more.

   “Goodnight, mum.”

Even in her delirious, feverish state, Joan realized her mistake and her entire body tensed up. She prepared to be kicked out, but, instead, Jane kissed the top of her head again and only pulled her closer.

   “Goodnight, little lamb.”

[tearinglight]

Bedtime Story for Squee

Squee pressed his face into Nny’s shirt, a rare action but today was an exception. He didn’t feel good today, his normal ‘squee’ of terror reduced to little more than a wheezy cough and his face felt funny. Nny shifted a little from the action, letting out a breath. He didn’t mind Squee touching him as much as he minded other people, feeling maybe just a bit stronger when the younger boy clutched his shirt. After all, little Squeegee was so small and weak right now! He needed Nny, didn’t he? Even though Nny was above that petty need of being needed, he could understand that.

The younger boy sneezed and it certainly did not take all of his willpower not to cuddle the precious Squee, no sir. 

Instead, he winced, trying to stay still even as germs ran up and down his body like frightened cattle. The weak grip on his shirt tightened a bit, however, his breath easing out of his lungs in a low-pitched hiss as his body relaxed. It was for Squeegee, he was a good Squee, he deserved to have someone take care of him even though Nny was suffering the whole time through it. The little boy shook with chills, Nny -begrudgingly!- tightening his arms around him.

“Nny?” 

“Yes, Squeegee?” Nny’s voice was soothing, bringing a small bit of comfort to the boy as he pressed his sore eyes to the Wastelock’s chest. 

“What’s it like to die?”

Nny paled with that question, his usual dusky complexion turning a light tan, “Why do you wanna know that Squeegee?”

“Pepito says you’ve died before... “ Squee pushed himself up onto his elbows to look his caretaker in the eye. “D-Do you think I’ll die? ‘Cause with my luck it’ll be malaria or somethin’ I’m sick with right now.”

“Squee that doesn’t mea-”

“Squee! What if I never get better?! What if I die here and rats eat my corpse and-” The younger boy was cut off by a round of hoarse coughs. 

His caretaker rubbed his back in instinct, wincing once more at the bones he could feel under his fingers. Squee was almost as thin as he was at that age, the older boy closing his sore eyes as memories-horrid ones- assaulted him. Squee’s coughs settled down, getting lighter, as did the air of the evening. Somehow, Nny thought about so much in his life. How everything could change as quick as the snap of someone’s fingers...

“Hey, Nny? Where are you from?” Squee rested his head against the older boy’s collarbone. “I hear you crying at night, sometimes. You say names. Where’s your family?”

Nny sighed, “Well, nowhere, really… just somewhere… “

----FLASHBACK------

The small child held some bread in his hands, the piece of food precious as he wandered the paved streets of Detroit’s abused and dirty alleyways. He jumped at a rat scurrying over his one sneaker, almost dropping his bread but rescuing the ball of wheat before it hit the ground. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have eaten it even if it HAD hit the ground, either, he was hungry and it wasn’t like more food was going to drop out of the sky. Smirking to himself, the boy held the treat up in the air like that monkey had done to that kitten on that old VHS movie that his foster siblings had watched. 

Careful not to catch the attention of the Lady, he’d done his scouting missions from the gaps between the railing, peering down onto the TV with stolen binoculars. He had never learned the Lady’s name or the names of the kids he was holed up with. It had never interested him, their cruel words scarring him until his eventual escape.

The boy gasped as he heard the roar of a fire truck fly past, running up the fire escape on his left to hide on the building’s roof. From here he could see the city, twilight falling over that little cliff where he’d seen couples go to do Naughty Things. Yet that was in the distance, this apartment building also showing him one of the single most important houses to him, ever. The house where he kicked up flowers, where he slept on the roof, where he had started to feel comfortable in a way that no other house had made him feel. He had never had a House before.

Of course, he had also never had a Lady Of The House before.

-----PRESENT----

The boy of the present choked on the air of the Now, his heart leaping into his throat as he suddenly slipped out about the Lady. He never talked about her, she was reserved in his memories for extremely bad days when his nose was runny and it was hard to focus. He examined Squee, the boy seemingly asleep in that exact state Nny had just said was worthy of Her. Maybe his subconscious just had no other way to make little Squee feel better?

Whatever. The boy was asleep now, so now Nny could finally esca-

“Who was she?”

Nny actually jumped at the sound of Squee’s voice. That was highly irregular. 

“O-oh. Squeegee! You’re awake,” Nny gave a sheepish smile, feeling a little guilty. “What? Who’s who?”

“The Lady of the House.” Squee mumbled, his voice groggy with sleep as his (sadly) parental figure wrapped his arms around him once more.

---FLASHBACK----

The boy’s violet eyes connected with her green ones in terror. She was only a shadow, dark and nowhere near as thin as the boy, as he looked up at her in the rain, muddy with parts of her flowers sticking to his hands. He had been coming onto the property for a while now, banging up her garden and sleeping in her little star-flower patch whenever he thought it was safe to breathe in the comforting scent. Those eyes should have been cold, the emerald orbs should have turned hard with anger but instead they crinkled up, becoming kind pools of jade. She kneeled in front of him, her movements quick and precise.

“Ah, so you are the little pisquano who has raided our gardens with their terrible temper tantrums!” The boy tried to force himself to run away, but her eyes held him captive. “So tell me, Little Noddleboy, what troubles you so that thou feel it necessary to destroy our gardens?!”

She was loud, her tone indicating punishment, but the hand offered brushed his chin with a gentleness he had never known before. For the first time in a while, he attempted to speak but all that came out was a tiny little “-y”. She suddenly broke out into fits of laughter, booming peals of the stuff.

“I see! Thou art a mute,” She reached her hand out to brush his messy hair. “Do not run, my gift, for I-”

That touch to his hair had been too much too soon, the boy running away as fast as he could. He could hear that welcoming, booming voice behind him but he didn’t look back. No matter how much he wanted to…

---PRESENT---

“-but I kept coming back, I think. I don’t really know why. I guess she just felt like,” Nny gave a non committal shrug. “Someone I could trust.”

Squee sighed, “I think this is the first time one of your stories had a nice ending. You met someone nice your first time in the neighborhood even if you were scared of them…”

“Yeah, I guess,” Nny subconsciously pet Squee’s hair, his eyes dulling as he tried to slip into one of his thinking moods. “Didn’t really help you, though, did it? I kinda wasted your time.”

“Not really… you kinda just told me that you were just like… me… “ Nny froze up at that, Squee crawling higher so he rested more comfortably under Nny’s chin, the boy slightly high off of cough syrup. “You had her ‘n’ I have...you…”

Nny’s eyes stung a little, suddenly not him but now looking through the Lady’s eyes at his tiny self. A helpless, vulnerable version of himself that he couldn’t help but touch on the chin with a gentleness he had never thought himself of possessing before. Before he knew it, Nny’s eyes had slipped closed, resting their sore gaze for at least a little… while… dreaming of dying and going to a perfect heaven with the Lady and Squee, right over the stars.

[tessacxstello]

hello im (F, 24) an idiot and forgot to post tessa’s (F, 22, fictional) intro!

pls bare in mind most of this was written 5+ years ago n i haven’t written tessa since 2015...... but lets get this show (LOCKWOODRP) on the road (DASHBOARD). 

tw school shooting, tw bipolar disorder

art hoe. always covered in paint. why?? she bad at painting

the mark rothko jackson pollock kind of bad tho wher people are like.... omg.... revolutionary..... its a badly drawn vagina

fuckin loves astrology, but cant take it that seriously bcos one of her bfs was a gemini so there’s some lenience there. but she WILL blame her hormones and mood swings on the positon of mars

embodies pure sunshine. 

one of those really annoying people that can go through the most traumatic shit and still find a positive spin. 

cares so much for others but does not really care for herself n it’s meant she just bottles up all this shit n when someone asks her how her day has gone she just falls on the ground like tht bit in midsommar when florence does that loud wheezy noise and sits down 

has never really had much money at all. learns to make-do with what she has. loves upcycling!! her bookshelf is made from cardboard which she’s reinforced by pappering it over with pages ripped out of thrifted books. her sofa is an old car boot which she’s repainted, put on wheels and stuffed w cushions so that it’s actually bearable to sit on.

her knitted cardigan? its made out of wife material.

knits all the time. will crochet you a christmas scarf. if ur lucky you might get a knitted jumper with a penis in a santa hat

still sleeps with cuddly toys n then wonders why ppl dont think she’s mature enough for a serious relationship

very passionate about Sister Doing It For THemselves!! raised by a single mom who worked her ass off so that tessa could do fun activities after school, have lelli kelly shoes, and go to college (not necessarily in tht order of importance)

tessa was born out of wedlock as the result of an affair between her mom (a journalism intern in her early 20s) and a new york times editor. 

the editor offered to pay tessa’s mom off to have an abortion, but she was like fuck u and told the papers he’d done that and used the money to cover the cost of her internship which they refused to pay her for

and because of the scandal, he ended up going through a pretty messy divorce with his wife, and losing custody of his kids. so as a child  tessa was seen as the cause of a divorce and received mutliple letters from the editors wife (to tessa personally!) and his kids saying how she had ruined everything, but her mom moved them to another town so tessa didn’t have to deal with that crap. 

her mom worked 3 jobs to put her through school, so in return tessa pushes herself incredibly hard to succeed. needs a break and a hug and to get laid to be honest. 

an old soul. likes old films, old music, old people. only recently got an iphone 5s so not really with this century yet

very sweet and soft and kind but also a fucking mess and won’t listen to anyone else’s opinion. she’ll take comfort, but not advice. 

feminist buddhist bisexual vegetarian for human rights and animal welfare. standing on a soapbox shouting about the climate in the quad, shoving flyers into your hands. flyers everwhere. she turns up at your grandmas funeral and shoves one into her mouth. she’s stolen the mic from the vicar to talk about pandas.

says “mother of pearl” and “heavens to betsy”.

had an affair with her married piano teacher and he’s now facing a custody battle and his wife is leaving him and tessa has completely internalised that guilt despite her being the victim in the scenario

aesthetics: paint splattered jeans, loose curls spilling from a scrunchie, thrifted blouses in bright yellow, guzzling coffee in the library at three am when a term paper’s due, shoddily illustrated campaign posters to save endangered species, polaroids plastered to your bedroom walls with scribbled dates on the frames, jumping into a stack of autumn leaves, jumping off piers in the summer months and stripping off your wet clothes on the beach, digging your thumbs into peaches to leave a bruise, smoking with the extractor fan on to hide the smell, bath bombs, letting the girls at lush rub samples all over your skin, cacti with knitted bobble hats, decorative pillows and sun and moon blanket throws, basic bitch fairy lights hanging from every single window, painting the name of the boys you’ve loved inside your wardrobe door.

studies fine art and philosophy, and wants to become either a lecturer or the first woman president. vibe wise, very similar to leslie knope, missy from big mouth, and basically the naive everygirl with a high opinion of themselves trope

gets drunk off like one double vodka lemonade because she’s small and she’s a pretty messy wild drunk. it’s when slutty tessa comes out, and the next day she’ll thoroughly regret every choice made and decide she’s never drinking again and cutting out all men and starting daily sudoko

on the cheerleading team and is a flyer, which she sees as a HUGE responsibility and she works really hard to make sure she’s on it for her team. one of those get up at 7am and go to the gym before school types its sickening

she had a really traumatic time at high school because there was a shooting in her school. she was in the next classroom when it happened, and she lost one of her friends in the shooting. she had to take two months off school, was diagnosed with depression and put on anti-depressants because of it. in her 2nd year of uni she was rediagnosed with bipolar disorder and anxiety, which she’s now on medication for. she can be really good for several months at a time and feel super creative and determined (she actually finds manic periods helpful for her creativity n art, n sadly sometimes doesn’t take her meds in these periods to push herself more which is obvs super bad.....). but when the bad periods come they can also last months n she had to take a semester out of school last year because of her mood, so she should be a senior by now but she’s retaking junior year

she attends weekly stress-management sessions prescribed by her doctor which she finds pointless.

very childish in the sense that she can only see her own point of view and kind of views herself as the “protagonist” and thinks her ideas are super important and life changing and she IS Destined for Greatness! despite being pretty much average af

pinterest board.

STATS

age: 22

height: 5'2"

positive traits: kind-hearted, gregarious, selfless, philosophical, open minded, idealistic, courageous, feisty, charismatic, loyal, adventurous.

negative traits: stubborn, hot-headed, reticent, escapist, self-destructive, easily led, naive, troubled, complicated, stepford smiler, envious, overdramatic, explosive.

distinguishing Marks: heart-shaped birthmark on the right of her chest, splattering of freckles across the cheeks during summer months, full lips, large eyes, porcelain features, long wavy hair, tattoo of a bird and a cage on her ankles and a basic bitch arrow tat on her wrist (srry to anyone with an arrow tat).

skills: jack-of-all-trades, talented pianist, perceptive, knows the correct way to throw a punch, good survival instinct, is able to remain calm in stressful situations, endures, artistic, excels in academic studies, hard-working and self-motivated, expert liar and talented actress.

likes: wolves, vintage thrift store fashion, old leather-bound books, left-wing democratic politics, cigarettes, poetry, John Hughes movies, cold coffee, hot tea, the sound of laughter, staying up til 4am having deep conversations, Tchaikovsky, having deep conversations about life, stationary, DC Comics, horoscopes, winged eyeliner, cats, knee-high socks, house music, abandoned buildings, studio ghibli, the smell of the earth after rain, Wes Anderson films, herbal tea, old people, solitude, esoteric things, the smell of freshly baked bread, Charles Bukowski, the moon.

fears: death, oblivion, global warming, losing those she loves, isolation, clowns, guns, enclosed spaces.

nicknames: Tess, T-Dog, Tessie, Socrates, Princess, Sunshine Girl, Florence Nightingale.

alignment: Neutral Good

MBTI type: INFP

BIOGRAPHY

tw school shooting

Her story begins with Cordelia Costello, a twenty-three year old college drop-out, turned beautician, turned columnist, turned intern at a local publishing company. She was a youthful, beautiful, siren of a women, always surrounded by an aura of enigma and an entourage of men. It was no surprise to the gossips in the office that within six months working at the company, Cordelia had added to her list another title – mistress to Franklin Hozier, the Editor of the New York Times. After two blissful months and three hundred and twenty seven orgasms, Cordelia decided she wanted a baby. Franklin laughed in her face. Feeling isolated and used, Cordelia continued her affair with her boss’ boss for another month, before deciding to take matters into her own hands.

It started with a turkey baster.

Soon the infant cries of a baby girl graced the world, her wrinkled skin puckered and pink as her mother held her in her arms, glancing upon the most beautiful thing in her life. Once Tessa, named after Cordelia’s favourite literary heroine, entered the world, Franklin left her life and things took a turn for the better. Despite living in a rented one-bedroom apartment in Staten Island, on what little money Cordelia had saved, Tessa’s childhood years were filled with nothing but the happiest of memories. Times were tough, but what they lacked in money, the Costello’s made up in love. While Tessa was at school, Cordelia did odd jobs cleaning, child-minding, working in local nurseries, in order to save up enough money to give her daughter the best start in life.

Despite what she had been led to believe by television shows and teen movies, the first few years of High School were some of the best years of her life. Tessa threw herself into a multitude of activities that High School offered her, including the drama club, the orchestra, choir, badminton and the school newspaper. While she certainly wasn’t considered ‘popular’ at school, Tess had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances. In fact, High School was a place where she made some of the greatest memories of her life, but come her final year, it was also a place where she was haunted by some of her worst.

On the January 17th of Tessa’s senior year of high school, a shooting took place in Westville High School. For two hours Tessa locked herself in a supply cupboard, her head between her knees as she tried to stay silent despite the screams of horror from the corridor. Eighteen students were caught in the crossfire, two of which were Tessa’s best friends. Bouquets of flowers, laminated photographs, Teddy Bears in cling-film bags attached to balloons littered the streets as families and friends came to pay tribute to the eighteen students withered before they had a chance to bloom.

It took two months of therapy before Tessa could return to school. Some of the survivors could never return due to the horrors that their eyes had laid witness to. Sometimes Tessa felt like a part of her had died with the friends that were stolen from her too soon, but one thought kept her going through: she had survived, she was alive and breathing, and she could not afford to loose a second of the precious time she had been granted on this earth. Despite the nightmares that continued to haunt her each night, Tessa found in the aftermath of the disaster a new sense of motivation. She began applying for scholarships for colleges without her mother’s knowledge, in the hope that her academic success would be enough to carry her through further education. Thankfully, it was, and after three torturous months of waiting Tess was offered an arts scholarship to her dream school, Lockwood University, where she hoped she could finally start to rebuild her life.

THE PRESENT:

Life at university was like a separate world. Students came and went like moths among the whisperings and the tequila and the stars. In this new world, Tessa was exposed for the first time in her life to alcohol, drugs, and the sexual appetites of other students her age – though she politely declined all three. Instead, Tessa threw herself into the vast array of activities in the hope that by distracting herself she could escape the terrible flashbacks that continued to haunt her. Tessa joined the lacrosse team, despite never having played before, and took up cheerleading discovering a new talent; she joined the musical theatre group, and the film club, and even set up her own acapella singing society. But despite how much she tried to throw herself into student life, her past hung around her like a bad smell, and with the added pressure of the Sinking Ships zine, Tess began to feel the weight of her secret tying her down like a pair of shackles around her wrists.

PERSONALITY:

If someone was to describe Tessa in a single word, it would most likely be ‘bubbly’, ‘open-minded’ or ‘sweet’. But they would be wrong – Tessa is not bubbly, or sweet, or stubborn, or hotheaded, or fiesty, or infectious, or any of the things the world see her as, but merely a numb and lonely echo of the gregarious, halcyon girl she once was. Tessa Costello was one of life’s enigmas. No one knew who she was, for to each person she met she wore a different mask – she dripped confidence, or was painfully shy; she was an exhibitionist, or a brooding wallflower; she took things too seriously, or not seriously at all. She was an actress and the world was her stage, each person she met a different member of the audience in the performance of her life. In truth, Tessa no longer even recognised herself. Insecure, and self-destructive, she tried to hang on to the extroverted, mischievous pieces of herself that everyone had once loved, but day by day it got harder to know what lay in the vacant holes blown through her mind. While she was stubborn and hot-headed, Tessa always saw the best in people, which meant that she was easily led astray. While she had grown up learning to be street smart and astute, she was idealistic and allowed silly fantasies to cloud her mind. By nature, she was passionate, which lead her to misimagine and romanticise those she met. Despite the hell she had witnessed, and the anxiety that feasted upon her, she believed that people were innately good and that to have courage and be kind could cure anyone of their sadness – yet she was unable to cure herself.

TWITTER:

@500daysoftessa: i blame disney films and musicals for my high expectations of men

@500daysoftessa: i am in love with the boy who works at starbucks. today i asked for a double latte and he gave me a tripple, which i think is proof that my love is requited. our children will be smart and talented and beautiful.

@500daysoftessa: little known historical fact: pharaohs were burried with their hands crossed over their chests because it was a popular belief there would be countless water slides in the after life.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Rough and Tumble

Rough and Tumblr - Kidge Month Day 11 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Keith squared his shoulders as he approached them proper. "Leave her alone," he cut in, settling one hand on his hip. He had a switchblade in his back pocket and he was ready to whip it out on these filthy pigs. Trigger Warning: Sexual Harassment Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Moving to the city of Olkarion had been far from exciting to him. He wasn’t a big fan of large crowds or interacting with other people in general. Even in the small town of Arus, where they’d lived before, he found himself getting exhausted by just how often he had to deal with the other people in town. Well, it was more that he got tired of dealing with the odd looks he got.

But an old friend of his Mom’s had offered her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And, because he felt like she needed a new start, he reassured her that he would be fine with the move.

Because Olkarion was a huge city, the concept of anonymity was nice, but even still he could feel eyes on him at all times. It was the same looks he’d gotten back in Arus; frightened second-glances and suspicious glares. People assuming that, just because he rode a hoverbike and wore a leather jacket, that meant that he was going to do something shady.

The looks were particularly bad as he exited a convenience store, a slushie in hand. A quick glance across the street was all it took for him to understand why. There were two leather-wearing thugs looming over a petite young girl. Her short, light brown hair was pushed out of her face with a green headband, a short-sleeved button up white blouse, and what seemed to be a suspender-style skirt on. She had the foresight to wear some boots, at least, and had a messenger bag tossed over her other shoulder, but she seemed far too guised up to be wandering around so late at night. And a girl dress like that, walking the streets alone, was sadly a prime target for scum like the guys crowding around her. "Again with this bullshit? Great," he groused, taking a sip from his drink and starting to head over. He figured his bike would be fine for a few seconds while he dealt with that problem.

Maybe if he chased those thugs off, it would endear him a little bit to the people observing.

They were noisy as he made his way over, picking up the conversation as he started to cross the street. Thug One leaned closer, pressing one hand above the girl’s head and leaning far too close into her personal space. "Little girl like you shouldn't be wanderin' around all alone," He said with a sneer on his face.

"Specially not this late at night. Bad things could happen to such a sweet lil’ thing," Thug Two chimed in, letting out small, wheezy chuckles like some kind of old, excited hound dog.

The girl pinned the two with a glare before moving to keep walking. "Thanks for the advice, but I can handle myself just fine," she said coolly.

Thug Two hopped over to step right in her path, causing her to stop short. "Ya know where ya are, don't cha?"

"I'm walking down 5th to Hemingway, last time I checked," She huffed back, lifting her wrist and checking something on her watch. Keith wagered it was probably one of those fancy ones that could be attached to a mobile phone.

The two creeps seemed rather unfazed by her indifference, though they started busting up at her response.

"Can you believe this brood?" Thug One howled, an arm around his waist and his head thrown back.

"Either smart-mouthed or not smart enough!" Thug Two choked out between his own laughing fit. Thug Two reached out to grab her by the chin and pull her face closer to his. "Look, sweetheart, you're in the territory of the Galra gang. Ya don't get to just wander about all wily-nily."

She wretched out of his grasp, lips pulling back in a furious snarl. "The street is public property, dipshit. You and your little posse shrieking like toddlers about how something belongs to you doesn't mean it actually does," She sneered. "Also, don't call me sweetheart or put your grubby hands on me. I don't need people mistaking me for having the dirt standards needed to hook up with a sleazeball like you."

That seemed to set the two thugs off, their mocking personalities giving way to pure fury.

"Listen here, ya little bitch!" Thug One snapped, reaching out to grab a hold of her arm.

Keith squared his shoulders as he approached them proper. "Leave her alone," he cut in, settling one hand on his hip. He had a switchblade in his back pocket and he was ready to whip it out on these filthy pigs.

Thug One’s hand froze and he cocked his head, tilting his head aside to spit at the ground. "Who the fuck are you? Her boyfriend?"

"I don't even know this guy," she cut in, tone clipped, before wheeling her glare over to him "and I'd appreciate you minding your own damn business. I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

He blinked before holding his hand up. "Okay, my bad. I'll leave it to you, then," he hummed, taking another sip of his slushie and taking a step back.

She visibly relaxed at him backing down easily and offered a small smile. "Thank you," She turned her attention back to the two thugs, gaze shifting slowly between the other two. "Now, as for the pair of you, buzz off. I don't have the time to waste on dopey little minions like you."

"Who the Hell do you think you're callin' dopey?" Thug One snapped angrily.

Thug Two snarled himself, raising one fist and beginning to crack his knuckles. "I think it's about time we teach her a fucking lesson!"

The girl let out a small sigh and shook her head, reaching over to flip open her messenger bag. "Well, I tried to be nice, but I guess I'll have to let Rover have at you," she commented. She pulled out a small, triangular object and pushed a button in the center. It whirled to life, a pale green glow emanating from a few grooves throughout it. She lowered her hand and it remained in the air, spinning once before turning to the little button she’d pushed was facing her. She indicated the two gang-bangers with one hand, an amused grin slowly turning up on her lips. "Go loose, buddy."

The little droid let out a small chirp, before the coloration changed to a bright red and it began sounding off an alarm. It turned to face Thug Two, zoomed over, and shot a strange white foam right into his eyes. He howled and stumbled back, trying to wipe it clear, but it seemed to stick to his face and fingers. Then, when Thug One ran over to try and help, the droid fired out two small prongs, the two of them sticking into the left side of his jaw, and zapped him with some kind of electrical current. It was high enough that Keith could actually smell some of his facial hair burning.

The two took off running, with the droid chasing them with angry-sounding little beeps.

"Wow," Keith whistled, letting out a long whistle.

"Told you I could take care of myself," she preened. She then looked at him and cocked her head curiously. "Though, I'll admit, didn't expect you to be coming over to help me; thought you were going to turn out to be one of their buddies. Then again, I appreciate that you turned out to be the type to stick his neck out on the line for me."

He shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. Everyone leers at me because I apparently look like a thug,”

"No offense, but around here leather jackets and denim jeans are kind of the signature look of trouble makers," she pointed out, reaching over to close her bag again. A moment later, her little droid hovered back over, gently bopping against her cheek. The little thing had gone back to the more subdued green hue form when it had first been booted up. “Good boy, Rover.”

"None taken. I'm used to it," he said, taking another sip from his drink.

She nodded in understanding, bright hazel eyes softening on him. "I know how that feels. People, as you just saw, do that to me all the time, too,"

"Guess I kinda fell into that camp myself, huh?" 

"It's fine; I did the same to you, too," She gave Rover one more little pat before looking at him curiously. "So I take it you're new to these parts?"

He nodded, starting to head back to cross the street. "Yeah, just moved here about two weeks ago,"

She moved to follow him, her droid hovering above her shoulder. "Well, in exchange for your attempt at chivalry, allow me to give you a tour. I'll show you all the best places to go to get anything you need; good food, electronics, you name it," she said with a bright grin.

He chuckled and nodded. “Sounds good. I have a spare helmet; you cool riding on a bike?” He asked, indicating the red beauty still waiting for him. 

Her eyes lit up. “Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted to ride one!”

[rickiewrites]

The Dream Before The Nightmare Ch:3

"Hello gorgeous," he sighed happily, nuzzling his face against the large sack of money. "With you, I'm gonna give the whole world such a fright, yes I am" he kissed it a little too passionately for the people near the payout counter who watched in disgust. "What? Like I care what you all think when I'm this rich!" he laughed prancing down the hall pirouetting near the exit while he was holding the sack up high in the air. "Johnathan, Johnathan people are staring at us" Sarah whispered to him interrupting his celebration. "My dear girl, people gawking at you is something you must get used to "he explained, tying the sack to his belt. "What fun is life if you can't draw in an audience? Besides, with this money, these boring old crows stares will pale in comparison to those who discover the wonders I will create!"

"But what about Ogar?" Sarah asked. He threw up his hands, shrugging "what about Ogar? The man plays big and bad, but he is nothing without goons to do the bulk of his dirty work." He smiled patting her shoulder, "you worry too much, now why don't we head on home?"

He ushered her out of the gambling house, telling her about how their luck was changing for the better. As he led her away, Sarah felt a chill go up her spine looking back to see Ogar standing outside taking a long drag from a cigar while he watched them leave.

When they got back to the pumpkin patch, he walked past the small dog house tapping his leg beckoning Cipher out.

"I'm glad you won the game, but are you really planning on leaving this place behind? This pumpkin patch was your father's pride and joy when he was still alive."

Sarah's words caused him to pause.

"As you said, this place was my father's pride and joy, not mine. He got his dream, and now it's my turn." He walked along the path looking out at all the pumpkins surrounding them "my father was fine just sailing along in this sea of orange" he picked one up pulling a pocket knife from his coat. "Meanwhile," he carved into the pumpkin, turning it around to reveal a face of agony "I'm drowning in it." He turned the face back to him speaking to it "old pumpkin king Jack" he mimicked Ogar's voice along with the wheezy laugh.

       Sarah reached out a hand to comfort him, Jonathan slightly lowered the pumpkin, thinking out loud "hm, Jack the Pumpkin King…" He turned around, causing her to retreat "that's not bad, no, that's not bad at all." The confusion spread across her face was only met with a smile gesturing her to follow him back into the house. The easy part of his plan was over now; it was time for him to focus on the hard part.

      "Now that we have secured funds, it's time to focus on putting on our show." His eyes lit up looking through a box of his rejected scripts "this is going to be something the world has never seen! I can do as I please with no restraint." He gasped clutching papers to his chest "no restraint, can you imagine the type of world I create without the noose of polite society tied around my neck?" Even though his childlike excitement was something, she admired she couldn't help but feel that he was getting far too ahead of himself.

"But Jonathan isn't there many steps to putting on a show? Finding performers, purchasing equipment, planning a tour route? And not to mentio-"

"Sarah, my dear friend, you're worrying too much! Everything will fall into place as it should."

"It just seems like a lot to set up for one person."

"I'm not alone. After all, I have you with me."

"Me?"

"Of course! I meant what I said when I asked you to run away with me. You'll help me, won't you?"

"Y-yes, Yes, of course, I'll help in any way I can."

The way he smiled made it hard for her to refuse him, to her, he was just too charming to deny. He was a man filled with fantasies and wonder, he needed someone with at least had one foot on the ground by his side; so why not her? To be needed made her feel good, having someone who looked at her like she was a person instead of just some doll to set up in a playhouse following their design. They sat down together to go over all the pages of his previous scripts and formulate a plan.

  Come morning papers were spread across the table Jonathan slept soundly in his chair hanging his head back one of the scripts hiding his face from the light that crept through the curtains. Unlike him, Sarah was still awake writing down plan she had formulated during the night to all the materials they would need to make his dream come true. With a sigh, she gave a proud grin finally finished, "I think I came up with a reasonable plan that should get us on the right track." She looked up when the only response she got was his muffled snores from behind the paper "Jonathan?" She reached over removing the script saying his name again but still all she got back was the clearer sound of his snoring.

         "He's really out," she said to herself brushing his hair out of his eyes, "you really shouldn't fall asleep in a chair." She couldn't help but stare at him during his peaceful slumber, while most women wouldn't look twice in his direction, Sarah could gaze at him for hours. His pale skin shimmered in the sunlight like a freshly made up corpse on their big day. His facial structure was sharp, the fact he was so skinny defined his cheekbones close to as Ogar said a skeleton.  She always found it fascinating how he grayed so early on in his adulthood when she asked about it he told her his assumption was that all the stress from writing a good enough play for Sir Greeves probably sucked the color dry from his hair and skin like a hungry vampire. The dark circles and lines around his eyes showed how exhausted he was on an average day and that was one of the things she admired most about him, he was dedicated to his dream and spent every moment he could to achieve it, these marks were proof of that. To her had the makings of a beautiful corpse. She ran her fingers over his bottom lip leaning in unable to resist the way they beckoned to her, all of a sudden, he yawned stretching out.

  "Mmm, I seem to have fallen asleep. I hope I didn't bother you at all Sarah, Sarah?" When he looked around, she was on the floor "down here," she laughed, taking his hand getting pulled back onto her feet. "What were you doing down there?" She dusted off the back of her dress, clearing her throat, "dozed off in my chair and fell." He patted her shoulder, "do be careful," she nodded too embarrassed to make eye contact "will do." She grabbed the notebook off the table, desperate for a change of subject, "I wanted to discuss the plan I created to help us get our traveling show off the ground." She let him look over her notes while she explained "for now considering our current predicament I would suggest we only purchase a trailer and horses then set out looking for talent outside of town to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible.  She got a small nod in response, "I have no disagreements," he closed the notebook, "as always your work is flawless." While Sarah wanted to bask in his praise, they both agreed they needed to get out of town sooner than later, especially since she was supposed to no longer be among the living. He let her clean up in the bathroom while he straightened up the house.

       After washing her face, she stared at her reflection, going over her personal appearance, which was something she usually did not wish to do. For the longest time, she was used to people commenting about her disease both to her face and behind her back, and her father only helped further her insecurities. She hated the way people would look afraid even to touch anything she came in contact out of fear of catching it, to them she was a spectacle. Between her skin and prosthetics, she stood out in the worst way, and it was something that made her father loathe her for even more. To him not only did she take away the love of his life but had the nerve to come out the womb defective, he would remind her almost daily how much she owed to him for even bothering to keep her. Between the abuse from her father and the ridicule she received from most people was slowly killing her, in fact, it almost did kill her.

     She remembered her first encounter with Jonathan when she moved into town, and her father had sent her to a market for supplies. Unfortunately, when she got there, the store owner had refused to sell her anything after he noticed her appearance. "What even are you? You barely have a limb to call your own, and you looked to be carrying some type of plague. You could be infecting my entire inventory!" She tried to explain her condition to him, but he seemed uninterested in her explanation, it was then a man came up behind her, plucking the money from her hand, giving the clerk his own. "Sir, you work with the Scully family every fall for your product inventory, right?" the store owner nodded. "Well since I'm in charge of the land now I can't say I find myself keen on doing business with a man who harasses a lovely young lady just trying to fill her icebox." His eyes widened, "are you mad?!" Jonathan shook his head, "not yet, but I do love a chance to be dramatic." He smiled while the owner growled snatching the money from his hand "a pleasure working with you sir" he winked with an air smooch ushering her out the store. When she tried to thank him he held up his hand shaking his head "you shouldn't thank me for making sure a human gets treated as such" he took her hand kissing it "have a good day" and just like that he was gone.

    She also remembered the time he saved her life. One night she had gotten into a nasty argument with her father about her hair, her father demanded she bleach it to strip away the color that reminded him of her mother. Regardless of her protests, he refused to budge telling her what an ungrateful child she was to defy him. What broke her was how he explained that she had no right to sharing any resemblance to someone she murdered just so she could exist. On a bridge, she stood later that night staring down at the water that reflected back to her the light blonde hair she was now forced wear tears streaming down her face feeling like she lost a strong connection she had with her mother. "What good is living the life of murdering burden?" she stepped closer to the ledge "I should just go, go to where mother is." Before she could step off, her thoughts were interrupted by a small dog coming up and barking at her propping up on her leg. "Cipher" she looked up when she recognized the voice noticing Jonathan walking up to her his dog returning to his side. "Oh, you're Miss Stein, that new scientist's daughter right?" she nodded. He smiled holding out a hand "I'm Jonathan Scully, I run the pumpkin patch on the outskirts of town. What are you doing out here so late? A lovely lady shouldn't travel the streets so late for her own safety." She sighed, "I suppose it's good I'm not lonely," she replied, looking down at her feet. "What are you talking about?" he gently placed a hand under her chin tilting her head up to meet his gaze "you're absolutely stunning."

            A knock came on the door, "are you ready, Sarah?" Jonathan asked. The door opened shortly after Sarah stepped out having used the makeup she kept for her father's business meetings to cover up her white spots, but that wasn't what caught his attention; it was the once blonde hair he was used to now a fiery red. "Your hair," she looked down, touching it too frightened to see his reaction stumbling over her words trying to explain herself, "it's beautiful." She looked up blushing "y-you think so?" he nodded, stepping closer, running his fingers through it, "I haven't seen your red hair in quite a long time." Though it surprised her, he remembered she could barely hide how happy it made her that he loved something she had been told for years to be ashamed of. "I know wearing so much makeup makes you comfortable, so let's get this business handled quickly "he opened the door for her, "I think I know someone we can talk to."

   He took her to the other side of town in the industrial district, "is there really someone over here who can help us?" Sarah looked around staying close to him. "Sir Greeves has some stagehands that work over here. One I know for sure is the son of a traveling salesman trying to get rid of his stuff since he passed." He knocked on an office door smiling holding out his hand when a short bearded man opened the door "William," he chimed quickly grabbing the door when William tried to slam the door.

"What the fuck do you want Scully? I ain't gettin' ya back into Mista Greeves playhouse, you're banned.

"Ha! I know that, silly guy. It's not the reason why I'm here."

"Then why are you fucking here?"

"First let's not curse so much in front of a lady. Second, how about you let me in and find out?"

     He held up a sack of money "I am sure you'll like what I have to say," he smiled when William opened up letting them in. He stepped out of the way letting Sarah go in first following her inside, "so what is it you want from me, Scully?" He pulled out Sarah's chair "this little lady, and I are interested in going on a bit of a vacation, and I remembered my good friend William was getting rid of his father's old things. So I thought to myself, why not try to help him out?" He set the small sack on his desk "You still have his old trailer, right?"

      Half an hour later, they left the office Jonathan holding up a title "ah a glorious trailer to begin our journey!" He smiled, kissing the paper. Sarah walked beside him going through the list, "considering the way he was when he first saw you. I'm glad that he decided to sell it to us." He laughed purring the title away in his breast pocket "yes, most of the people at that playhouse are pretty tired of seeing my face." She tapped the notebook on her chin "now we need to figure out what to do with the pumpkin patch" he crossed his arms trying to think of a solution "you're right." As they rounded a corner, they spotted a mother with a baby on her back and her two sons dressed in rags begging. "Excuse me, Miss" Jonathan came up behind her with a gentle smile dropping a few coins into her cup "I'd like to make you an offer I think you'll like."

      "Damn it!" Ogar roared throwing a glass against the wall sitting in his office snapping his fingers holding out his hand one of the triplets rushed over to put a new one in his hand another poured him more scotch. He downed the glass slamming his fist down on the desk "I can't believe that walking skeleton made off with half my fortune!" The triplets kept a safe distance from him trying to avoid his wrath quietly arguing about who would speak to him, "you three drones got something to say!?" Shannon the only female of the group stepped up her legs shaking "the um, the VIP guests have arrived" she blurted out. "What!? You're just telling me this now!?" he yelled, getting up pushing them out of his walk to go out onto the gambling floor.

    He rushed out finding two gentlemen waiting at the entrance the older one looking at his watch tapping impatiently while the other balanced a cricket bat on his palm. "Gentlemen!" Ogar chuckled patting them on the should, "so glad you could come to spend some time at my modest little establishment." The older man frown tapping his watch "you're three minutes late" he commented,  Ogar laughed it off and turned them around leading them to the poker tables. "My apologies for the tardiness, but you have my full attention now" he sat them down snapping his fingers twice pointing at the table waitresses rushed over with drinks young women coming to their side to keep them company. He smiled when the man started to relax, offering them cigars, "so what brings you two into town?"

       The youngest spoke up "I came here to see my fiance and apparently, she went up in flames along with her gross little father the other day," he smiled pulling one of the girls onto his lap "which makes me single now." His father sighed, taking a cigar accepting a light from Ogar "yes, it was truly a waste of our time. I suppose it was for the best since the little strumpet had an attitude problem, she was damaged goods anyway." His son nodded, "especially with those weird blotches on her face and those phony limbs." The description seemed familiar to Ogar somehow "a woman with fake limbs and odd skin?" he took a drag from his cigar when it hit him snapping it in half. "I'm sorry. Did you say that she was….dead?"

[mrshopkirk]

Where have all the flowers gone?

Characters: reader, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Rebecca Barnes, son, grandson

Summary: You live next to the Barnes’ family and Steven Rogers, growing up together. When the boy that got you pregnant takes off, Bucky, Rebecca and Steve become your family. Your life takes you to too many graveyards, mourning Bucky, Steve and the cruel faith that seems to hunt the name Barnes.

Warnings: angst, war, heartbreak, peer pressure, teenage pregnancy, mention of abortion (no abortion was carried out), major character death, mourning, cancer, death and some sweet moments. Let me know if you need warnings added.

Word count: 3468

Notes: Inspired by “Where have all the flowers gone” by Marlène Dietrich. Thank you @hellomissmabel for proofreading. I love you, darling. Feedback is appreciated.

*MASTERLIST*

You grew up next door to the Barnes family and spent your entire childhood by the side of Rebecca Barnes, like two peas in a pot. That kind of loyalty seemed to be the trademark of the Barnes’ as Rebecca’s brother James, or Bucky as most people called him, was glued to the side of his own best friend Steve Rogers. The boys were seven years older than Rebecca and you so it was only natural you didn’t always spend your time with them but they were family, they were friends.

When Becca and you were in your teens, Bucky and Steve were already regulars at the local dance hall. Bucky was a gorgeous young man, sometimes smothered with female attention, and Becca and you often teased him. But you had to hand it to him, he was always respectful and when he brought a date he politely brushed off any other dames that flaunted themselves over him.

The same couldn’t be said for the boy that brought you to the dance one evening. You loved Danny and despite the warnings of Bucky and Steve that the boy was no good, you still hung out with him. You hadn’t want to talk to him when he had whistled at you walking down the street but he had cornered you and he had turned out to be a sweet talker so you had agreed to go out for ice cream the next day. Life with him was fun and adventurous. You smoked your first cigarette together, ate an apple he had dared you to steal, shared your first kiss that you were reluctant to give but the rough way he had pressed his lips to you made you tingle all over. He pushed your limits and in return you pushed the little voice in your head that said he was wrong in a faraway corner. You didn’t want to lose him so you went along. The next time you heard the warning voice, it wasn’t the one in your head but it was Bucky and Steve telling you again that the boy was nothing but trouble. They had taken you to Steve’s apartment to sober you up. You had gone on a ‘date’ down to the docks but instead of a nice romantic walk, you had met Danny’s friends who were drinking. You didn’t want to try it but he had convinced you and it had tasted good. All you remembered was Danny being pulled away from your lips by a fuming Bucky. Steve had been uncharacteristically quiet but his jaw had been clenched not wanting to cause trouble for you. But you didn’t listen to them and still continued to date Danny.

“Come on, sweetheart. Why not?”

“I don’t know, Danny. I just, I don’t want to.” Danny kissed you, ghosting his lips over your neck.

“Come on. Remember you didn’t want to kiss me? And you liked it afterwards, didn’t you?” You nodded. “And you never thought it would feel so good when I touched these.” He rubbed his thumbs over your nipples. “And I showed you anyway, didn’t I?” His hands wandered from your breasts to your ass and he gave it a firm squeeze and pulled you close to him. You felt his cock straining in his pants.

“Danny, I don’t know,” you trailed off but his kisses were distracting. He was an amazing kisser and always made you feel so good with the sweet words he told you.

“Sweetheart, come on. Please? I want you so bad. Can’t you feel it?” He grinded against you and bunched up your skirt in his fists, breathing heavily. “Have I ever let you down, huh? Remember all those times you didn’t want to and how good it felt when I did anyway?”

And that’s how Danny persuaded you to go with him to his apartment and proved himself wrong. It didn’t feel good. Not in the beginning, not in the middle, not afterwards. It had hurt. Luckily it didn’t last long. He rolled of you, very satisfied.

“You need to pee, sweetheart, so you don’t get knocked up.”

So you did and avoided looking at yourself in the mirror, too afraid of what you might see. When you closed the bathroom door behind you, you saw Danny stand in the living room with your clothes in his hands.

“I’ll walk you home.”

It hurt walking home but that didn’t keep you from hurrying up the stairs to your apartment before Bucky and Steve, who were sitting outside, could ask what caused your tear-stained face.

“Who is the father?!,” Your father yelled. All you did was cry. Danny had said it wasn’t his, pushing you out of his apartment and slamming the door in your face. So here you were, 16 years old and pregnant and your tragedy wormed its way through the wall into the Barnes’ living room where it reached the ears of Becca, Bucky and Steve.

“Becca?” Bucky asked but his sister just bit her lower lip while her hands gripped the chair she was sitting and tears fell on her skirt. “Becca? Who is it? What happened?”

Steve kept his gaze fixed on his friend’s sister but she kept quiet.

“Rebecca,” Steve softly asked, “was it Danny?” The hitch in Becca’s breath told them all they needed to know.

Becca nodded and cried harder when Bucky pulled his baby sister close to him. Steve was livid.

“She said it hurt and it hurt walking home. And that she was bleeding.”

The argument with your father got more and more heated. You were trying to defend yourself though there was nothing to be done and your father threatened you to get rid of the baby, which shook you to the core as that option never crossed your mind.

“No! I’m keeping my baby!”

“You’re 16! If there is no father to take care of you both than that’s out of the question!”

Between your sobs, huddled on the floor, you heard the faint sound of knocking on the door. When your father dismissed whoever it was without even opening the door, the knocks became louder. He yanked open the door and sighed.

“Now is not a good time, Becca. Please go home.” Behind Becca you saw two other figures in the hallway.

Bucky slowly made his way past Becca and stood in front of your father while Steve held your friend’s shoulders. Bucky shot you a small smile before speaking the most horrible lie you had ever heard.

“I’m the father.”

He walked over to you, crouched down to take your hand and held it tight when he helped you up. When you asked him with pleading eyes why he was getting himself in this much trouble, he shushed you.

“It’s going to be alright. We’re going to be alright.” He put his arms around your shoulder in the most protective manner. “I’m sorry, sir, I really am. But I promise I’ll take good care of them. I have a job at the docks and we can move in with Steve. He has a spare room.” Steve nodded frantically.

Your father yelled at Bucky for what seemed like hours, threw every possible insult at him and he took it all in stride while holding you, his hands clutching your shoulders. He heard how irresponsible he had been, how he dared to sleep with a girl as young as his own little sister, the shame he brought upon the family and you. And Bucky stood there; back straight and a determined look on his face.

“We’ll get married as soon as possible, sir.” You almost fainted. You didn’t want to get married so young and Bucky definitely didn’t. That much you knew but the matter was settled. You knew there was no other way.

Two weeks later you were Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes, the envy of many girls and the talk of the town as to why you two got married in such a hurry. But you couldn’t complain, not with a new family surrounding you. Becca helped you were she could, Steve was at your beck and call and Bucky kept his promise and worked until he could no more to provide for you and little James Steven Barnes, the love of your life. Life wasn’t perfect but that little bundle of joy was. Everyone around him loved him, including both your parents. Though Bucky and you weren’t lovers, family life was more than good.

Little James wasn’t a year old before Bucky was drafted and broke your little family in two. He made Steve promise to do whatever it took to keep you both safe and with his wheezy breath he did. When Becca and you went to see him off, every girl and woman on the dock had picked flowers in the city gardens to give to their departing soldiers. Bucky looked at the flowers like they were the most precious gift and gave you and his son a last kiss goodbye, promising to return soon.

Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing? Where have all the flowers gone, long time ago? Where have all the flowers gone? Young girls picked them, every one! When will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?

Months went by with scarce news coming from the front lines. Steve took care of you as much as he could but he was torn between the promise he made to Bucky and wanting to serve his country. When he confided in you that he had given it one last try and was accepted in a military experimental program, your legs gave out and you dropped to the floor. All you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. It was the word experiment that knocked out all common sense in you. In the end you gave him your blessing, how could you not after all his sacrifices, and in return he officially gave you the apartment.

“You’ll let me live here when I get back, right?” he joked.

When he was about to get in the military car that came to pick him up, little James gave him the same flowers you had given his father, grabbed Steve’s jacket and held on as long as he could with those little grabby hands of his. As Steve’s car disappeared in the distance you were left behind with a crying boy and your friend Becca.

You didn’t hear from Steve for quite a while but soon figured out he was the one they called Captain America. He came to visit one day to tell you he was going to visit the troops overseas but left brokenhearted when James had ran away from him, not recognizing the well-built man on the couch despite that he had taken care of him since the day he was born.

Weeks and months came and went until it became two years since Bucky and Steve had left. James was getting bigger every day and looking more and more like his father. He had dark brown hair, crystal blue eyes and a smile that already melted every woman’s heart. His favorite thing to do was hold your finger that had your wedding ring on it to fall asleep.

Whenever you looked in the mirror all those years ago you saw that you transformed from a young and naïve girl into an independent woman that worked hard in the war industry alongside Becca while James stayed with Bucky’s mother. The longer the men stayed away, the more rapid the women seemed to age, worried lines etching their way on their tired faces.

Where have all the young girls gone, long time passing? Where have all the young girls gone, long time ago? Where have all the young girls gone? Gone to young men, every one! When will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?

By the end of 1944 there were fewer and fewer young men in the streets, all drafted or volunteered to join their brothers in arms. Women were taking their places to keep everything going and tried to support each other. Whether it was helping to keep their chin up, sharing what they could and pick up the pieces of each other when another letter arrived.

Your heart stopped every time you saw one of those letters, remembering the day you received the news of Bucky’s disappearance behind enemy lines. You had hoped against hope that he would be found. It only said they assumed he was dead after all. After all that he had done, a fate this cruel was not what he deserved. Your prayers were answered by Steve himself who brought Bucky back from the dead.

They said nothing is more painful than a broken heart when you lose someone to the heaven’s above. But while your heart tried to mend itself after Bucky was found, all you could think of was how ridiculously easy the war toyed with life and death and for what? The longer the war lasted the less clear the reason became. All the women wanted was for their loved ones, husbands, fathers, brothers to return at any cost. And although the battlefields of Europe had Bucky back, you relieved your misery over and again as death was found all around you. There were no mangled bodies where you lived but the streets, the grocery stores, the factories were filled with ghosts. Whereas empty bombshells were scattered throughout battlefields, empty shells of human beings were scattered throughout the town.

Where have all the young men gone, long time passing? Where have all the young men gone, long time ago? Where have all the young men gone? Gone to soldier, every one! When will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?

The letters came in rapid succession those days and the days were filled with stress and fear until the mailman came and left. But sometimes that man brought good news as well, like the letter Bucky wrote you filled with love.

“My darling wife and son,

They say the war will be over shortly. I hope they are right. Steve and I are fighting hard to come home soon. I can’t wait to see you again and hold James in my arms. He must have grown so much. I miss him and the home we made together. Becca told me you’re working in a factory now. Try and hold on. I’ll take care of you both again when I get home. Don’t you worry, doll.

I will see you both soon. Can’t wait. Kiss James for me.

Your Bucky.”

The next letter that followed the same week made you a war widow once more. He was dead. He was gone. Your savior. James’ father. Becca’s brother. She had been your rock to lean on all those years. Now it was time to return the favor and hold her all those dark nights she mourned her lost brother and screamed profanities at everything and nothing until her throat was raw. By the time you received the letter stating Steve’s death in service of your country you were both numb. Only your son gave both Becca’s and your life purpose.

It didn’t happen often but sometimes you realized that James wasn’t actually Bucky’s child. Not by blood anyway but he was in every other possible manner. To Bucky, James was his everything. He wasn’t in love with you when he married you but he loved you enough to devote his life to you and an unborn child from another man. He sacrificed his own future, as he never went dancing anymore, never romanced another woman. He dedicated his time and everything he had to give to you and James. He was there every step of the way and he did so without hesitation. You overheard Steve ask him once if he didn’t love another woman and he did. He had fallen in love. It didn’t break your heart for it was never truly his, not like a wife’s heart should belong to her husband, but it ached for him. You were responsible for his heartbreak. But he shook it off, said this was the life he had chosen and he was happy. It wasn’t the future he once had in mind but it was good and when James had started crying he told Steve he was certain he had made the right choice, no regrets. You honored the sacrifice he had made for James and you by staying a widow, never searching a love for yourself either.

When your son grew up into a strapping young man much like his dad, you were proud. Unlike his dad however he married the first girl he ever dated. They were blessed with a son of their own, James Steven Barnes Jr., their only child.

The last thing you expected was the birthday present he got you on the day when he was 18 years old.

“I’ve enlisted, grandma. Just like grandpa and uncle Steve. I’ll make them proud, grandma. Just wait and see.”

“You idiot,” was the only thing coming out of mouth and you meant it. He was a fucking idiot. All Bucky and Steve ever wanted was a quiet, long, happy life. If the war never happened they would never have been soldiers. It wouldn’t even have crossed their minds. You were proud of all the soldiers that dedicated their lives to serve your country. You just didn’t want to think about your grandson facing the wrong side of a gun. But this James was determined to continue the legacy of the Howling Commando Barnes and Captain America.

When a war in a faraway country roared its ugly head, your worst nightmare came true.

“Were they scared, grandma?” your grandson asked on the phone before he shipped out.

“They didn’t really talk about it, my boy. It wasn’t done back then, but yes. They were scared, scared of dying, scared of never coming back. But they tried, my boy. God knows they gave their all to make it home safe to us.” When the other end of the line stayed quiet, you spoke your final words to your grandson. “Have courage, James. Your examples are James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers, they will be with you every step of the way. But there is one thing you must do better than they did.”

“Yes, grandma?”

“You must come back.”

And so another James Barnes was sent off to war at the same age as Bucky. It seemed the faith of this family. It also seemed faith that no James Barnes returned from war.

Where have all the soldiers gone, long time passing? Where have all the soldiers gone, a long time ago? Where have all the soldiers gone? Gone to graveyards, every one! When will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?

You never gave your grandson flowers when he was sent out. But you did put them on his empty grave. It felt like the name Barnes was cursed and meant to die a pointless death. Of course the war served a purpose but that didn’t ease the pain. Unlike Bucky and Steve, your grandson was honored with a tombstone placed in an already existing military graveyard. When you looked around you saw he was laid to rest amongst soldiers that might have fought alongside Bucky and Steve. Who would tell? You saw a woman close to your age sitting by a grave that looked like it belonged to her long lost husband.

“It’s an empty grave,” she said. “I never made it to Europe to see where he is really buried but someone sent me a picture.” She showed you the picture of a graveyard covered in flowers.

Where have all the graveyards gone, long time passing? Where have all the graveyards gone, long time ago? Where have all the graveyards gone? Gone to flower, every one! When will they ever learn, oh when will they ever learn?

You didn’t survive your grandson for very long but it was fine by you. You did survive Becca and you were selfishly glad for that. At least you wouldn’t have to bury her too. The last thing you asked her was to put the flowers you both loved on your own grave.

It wasn’t much later that your son James Steven Barnes buried his aunt Becca, adorning her grave with your beloved flowers.

It wasn’t long after that disaster hit the last of the Barnes’ line. Cancer took your son and placed him by your side. His flesh was barely cold when the news was bursting with reports of the return of Captain America and a ghost known as the Winter Soldier.

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[sparklygembutterflies]

The first snippet of my friend's and my rp series, "One Of Both Worlds" Steven discovers a way to heal Pink Diamond's shards and attempts to mend earth's relationship with Homeworld and bring healing to the Diamonds.

"Are you ready?" Steven grinned as he practically bounced on the spot in front of the large monarch. He was so excited he couldn't even keep his feet on the ground. His excitement literally caused him to float up.

Pink laughed as she caught the child. "I think so. I've been ready for this for a long time." Although she still had yet to know how long she had really been gone. Steven and Jasper had glossed right over it and at the moment, she was too excited to see her sisters to even care.

"Good because she's coming." He could feel it in the clenching pain in his gem and his eyes that were already starting to brim. "Like, really soon." His vision disappeared behind a watery sheen as rivers started to pour down his face.

"Oh dear..." Pink looked down at the boy and then back at her Jasper at her side. "You ready Jasper?" She grinned. "It's been a while since you've been inside my palanquin."

Jasper stood at attention as her Diamond addressed her, a proud grin lining her face. "Always ready, My Diamond," she rumbled.

"Good because..." Pink's widened at the sound of an engine and she grabbed Jasper by the waist, dragging her into the palanquin. "She's here!"

She shut the curtain and placed her hands regally in her lap. She looked around. "It...it's been a while since I've seen the inside of this thing. I didn't get much of a chance to even be inside it."

Jasper, despite the potential to be seen as disrespectful, leaned over and placed a hand on her Diamond's side. Her own gaze seemed glossy, reliving the unfortunate moment that changed her life. "My Diamond... You... You still look perfect."

The Diamond gave a proud little wiggle. "I know." She giggled and leaned down, brushing her fingers through the gem's hair. "Now....be silent."

Steven stood up tall when the blue palanquin descended. He tried not to sweat, reliving the last memory he had being in this place. Well if Blue tried to nab him....surely Pink would stop her. “She's...really big.” He almost forgot how big the robed figure was. Now that he saw her, he realized Pink was just a little shorter then her. That made sense, he supposed, since she was the youngest.

Kay, look the part! He stood up straight, mouth firm as a gem guard's would be.

Blue Diamond's cloaked figure approached the palanquin as she had before. The tears dripped from the unseen face as she came closer, avoided deftly by her Pearl behind her. "Oh, my dear sister..."

A pause.

She reached up and yanked her cloak down, her long, mournful face staring numbly down at the human in front of Pink Diamond's former throne. Her watery eyes squinted at his own tear-ridden face."... Humans seem to keep appearing here. Pearl? Didn't you create a new sign?"

The sweet figure appeared. "Yes, My Diamond."

"It did not seem to work."

"My apologies, My Diamond. I will add a very threatening exclamation mark next time. It will keep them at bay."

Steven stared. "Uhhhhh...." Really....big....woman.

The last time Steven had seen a gem so big, right in front of him was Malachite and...well, that hadn't ended well. He froze for a moment, not sure if it was sweat or tears that started down his face. Then, he bowed. "Hello, your high....Diamond....ness?"

The sorrow-laden face blinked slowly at his words. "Even though you are a human, I will hope that you understand this." A large hand reached out and brushed him aside, away from the palanquin's throne. "Leave me."

"Oh but I can't! You see, I'm a guard. A servant. Her servant." He could hardly keep the smile off his face, even if Blue's tears were blinding him. "But as her servant, I can see if she's accepting visitors." He bowed graciously to the opening of the palanquin and then with a pained wince, tried to form the Diamond salute. "My Diamond, I think...you have a certain giant woman sister who looooooves you who wants to see you?"

Pink snorted a loud giggle out of her hands, both from Steven's hilarious wording and the situation itself.

Blue's form froze, on her knees before the throne. Her eyes grew spacious, voice a whisper that trembled at the sound. "W-Who is that?"

Another soft giggle and the curtain was whisked away, Pink's smile beaming through tears as she brushed back her hair sheepishly."...The annoying little brat? Oh wait, that's Yellow's name for me..."

The Diamond was frozen. Her hand was in mid-wipe on her eyes, which failed miserably to stop the flow of tears that billowed down her cheeks.

"Wh..."

A hoarse sound. She seemed incapable of blinking.

"M..."

Blue Diamond's arm slowly fell to her side. She stared at the pink figure whose grin turned nervously in front of her from the prolonged silence. She took in a shaky breath.

... Which exploded out of her in a long, unceremoniously wheezy wail, her eyes crinkled up and overflowing with water. "P-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-IIIIIII-EH-HE-HE-HEEEEEEEEE-NK!"

"Oh jeez!" Steven stumbled back, hand overs his ears. "Steven can't hear now either!"

Even Pink jumped from the shrill sound that just rang through her head and she laughed through tears that started down her face. "Oh right, that's where I got my emotions from." Certainly not Yellow, who she wasn't sure if she even ever saw cry. She gave a laughing sob as she cupped Blue's face. "I can't even see...your eyes through all those tears!"

The giant blue gem was incapable of speaking as she sobbed. Her hands reached all over the face blindly, feeling the details that she never thought she'd know again. Fingers buried in the soft pink locks, trailed down her shoulders where she suddenly crushed the other to her chest.

Pink heaved out a pained breath that turned to soft sobbing, as it always did when she was in one of her sister's arms. She really had no idea how long she had been gone, trapped in a stasis state incapable of knowing anything through death. But as Steven connected with her shards she had slowly gained sentience back, and awareness.

But time still escaped her.

"Blue..."she sobbed into her. "Blue..." Because even if she didn't know much, she remembered seeing one of her own creations lunge towards her before it all ended.

Glassy blue eyes shimmered as they finally peeked open. Her hand frantically smoothed her sister's hair back with each sob. "I... m... missed... you... s-so-o-o-o... much!"

Jasper stood beside Steven, arms crossed as she watched the two Diamonds sob. She smiled at the reunion, but tilted her head down as she felt her hair tugged on."Steven!" she growled. "Stop using my hair to wipe away your tears!"

"But I can't even see the beautiful sister hug!" Steven wailed, futilely wiping his eyes.

Pink cupped her sister's face in her hands and bumped her forehead against hers. "I-I..." She wiped her eyes with a pained laugh. "I didn't think anyone would miss me this much."

The large pink woman was suddenly thrashed around in a wild shake. "Of course I missed you!" Blue Diamond shrieked. Jasper's helmet was on, but a hand on her side from Steven kept her at bay as she grumbled.

Pink blinked dizzily as she was rocked back and forth and smiled as she tightened her arms around her. "Well..." She choked out a laugh. "I mean, I guess it makes sense that you miss me." It wasn't that she figured Yellow wouldn't but....surely she'd have gotten over her by now. She never really wanted her around much in the first place.

"We all missed you!" Blue Diamond wailed. Her tears had lessened slightly. "H-Homeworld has never been the s-same! We haven't been! D-Don't even get me started on your colony..."

--

"My eyes hurt..." Steven mumbled, reclined over Jasper's lap. His lids had almost swollen shut.

"Get used to it. Blue Diamond was always the waterworks of Homeworld," Jasper mumbled. It had been a long, loud, unproductive hour. "That's why she made Lapis Lazulis. So they can control the rivers of tears she spilled."

"I...I guess I never thought anything happening to me would impact you all so much." Pink laughed as she tried to hold back her tears. "Wh-what did I do except get into trouble and annoy you and Yellow and constantly get locked out of your rooms be-because I'm so bothersome?"

Blue Diamond's tears finally stopped as she blinked, her mouth hung open in disbelief. "We're sisters!" The shaking resumed. "We're supposed to do that to each other!"

Pink looked slightly doubtful. "W...well...you and Yellow didn't seem to do that much to each other." She paused, her eyes widened. "Yellow. H-how is she?" She looked around, only now realizing that these distant structures, these forests....she had never seen them. "How long have I even been gone? 100 years or something??"

Blue Diamond's hand shot to her face as the tears started up again. The other hand reached out and rested delicately on Pink's shoulder.

"You... You've been gone for 6,000 years, m-my sister..."

"6,000...." Her voice trailed off into a breathy whisper as her knees gave out and she fell to them. Her eyes were frozen wide as she gripped her hair, shaking her head.

It couldn't...be true. It couldn't be that long. This earth, these structures, this new land....It had all been developed over 6000 years? Her palanquin had been there this whole time? Jasper had been waiting for her all these years? Her colony...her sisters....

Her sisters...

"Blue!" She gripped her hand tightly, voice a mere croak at the earth shattering revelation. "6,000 years? Blue--home! We need to go home! Yellow...Yellow!"

"Of course!" Blue Diamond grasped her hand back and lifted her arm to summon her ship, which zoomed down. She desperately tugged her to the entrance. "She will be amazed! I can't believe it! Our youngest Diamond is back! I don't even know how she'll take this! I haven't seen her cry since... well... you were shattered."

"...Cried?" That was something she had never seen before.