#when talking about it and i hate it. i’m being vague cause don’t want it showing up anywhere. but like in canon the concept is so good and

[icejjfishesz]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜

chapter no. 000!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!

THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 

but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 

but it wasn’t enough anymore. 

perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 

“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 

you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”

“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 

“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 

paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 

“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.

“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.

“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”

she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.

so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”

she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.

[aza-writes]

Right Where You Left Me

Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested: no

Summary: Bucky found his fiance from the 1940s, but she isn't his fiance anymore. 

Warnings: ANGST, use of y/n (ONLY TWICE AND IN PASSING), talks of dementia and religion. 

Inspiration: Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift 

A/N: Combining my two favorite things, Bucky Barnes and Taylor Swift. Religion is vague in this btw

Bucky's POV:

She looks so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I imagined her like this so often. 

But I imagined the situation differently. I imagined myself either six feet under or in a bed right next to hers. Our hands touching, or if we could, hop into each other’s beds for the night. 

But that’s all just a fantasy. 

Right now, she’s there, across the hallway. I can barely see into her room, curtains blocking me from her face. All I can see is her hands, her quilted blanket, and her grandson. 

Her grandson.

Her’s

That’s not even the worst part; he’s technically older than me. Or, he looks older than me, aged more than I have. He even has kids of his own, a boy and a girl. 

She has a great-grandson and a great-granddaughter. 

I want to walk in and see her face, speak to her, but I’m terrified. There are two possible outcomes if I walk in there, and both are paired with an unimaginable heartbreak that hurts to just think about. She could either recognize me or not. If she sees my face and knows who I am, she might hate me. And if she doesn’t, it’ll break me. 

If she recognizes me, I don’t know if she’ll see the good times or the bad. The last time I saw her broke both of us, her more than me. That’s what scares me the most. 

• • • • • •

“Tomorrow?” Her voice cracks. Slow tears fall down her cheeks as she quickly wipes them off. 

It feels like the whole diner is looking at us, but the truth is no one cares. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own shit they don’t care about the couple in the back corner being torn apart by the war; they’re probably worried they’ll have to do the same soon. We’re the future to them. 

I nod and rub my thumb on the back of her free hand. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have to not start tearing up with her. I need to be strong for her. I need to be hopeful for both of us. “I’m so sorry, doll. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” 

Drafted. Enlisting is one thing, but being drafted is something different. Steve begged me to join him, but I said no. Claiming I would after y/n and I got married at city hall. Even if we were able to follow through with those plans, I wouldn’t be able to leave her. She would’ve kept me here just by waking up next to me. But none of that mattered now. Our future plans would have to be put on hold for a while. 

Her tears pick up the pace, causing a bit of mascara to chase after the tear. She wipes it off then looks at her finger, the black clumping next to her nail. 

“Please don’t cry, darling.” My voice starts to shake, but I push it back. “I’ll be back. I promise I’ll be back.” 

She shakes her and pulls her hands away. “No, no don’t do that.” She wipes her tears again; this time, there weren’t any that followed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She looks me in the eyes and brings her hands back to mine. “I have two friends already who are widows, and both of their husbands made promises. Promises are bad luck.” 

I nod at her now. I know exactly what she’s talking about. There’s been a lot of letters recently, not from the soldiers but from the government, all starting with, “We regret to inform you” and ending with “Our deepest condolences.” 

“When tomorrow do you leave?” Her voice was quiet but less sad. It was more of a matter-of-fact tone. 

“Early morning.” Early, very early. It's too early to get to the courthouse tomorrow before I have to leave. Too early to get a marriage license. Too early in every aspect of the word. It’s too early to leave her. Too early for anything. 

“Does Steve know?” 

I shake my head again. “No, I’m telling him after this, though.” 

“Are we still going to the Stark Expo tonight?” A small smile creeps up on her face. She’s trying to lighten the mood, and it’s working. I can’t feel anything but pure joy looking at her face. 

“Of course, doll.” 

• • • • • •

The other option is that she doesn’t remember me at all. How would I approach her then? I haven’t gotten the courage to go into her room yet, but her family has to reintroduce themselves every time they go to visit. Their voices stay sad, and every conversation they have is the same. Pleasantries and them updating her on their lives. She doesn’t say much besides a few “oh” and “Is that right?” She never uses their names or asks more questions. I don’t think she would be able to. 

The word “dementia” is thrown around a lot by her nurses. Recently “Lewy body” has been added to it. They also say Alzheimer’s a lot when looking at her charts. That cluster of words is enough to fill me with dread. I want to take all of this away from her. I want her mind to be perfectly sound, I want to be in a hospital bed with her, and I want to be the man who has to keep reintroducing himself as her husband. But I can’t. All I can do is listen to the nurses from a distance. My time for seeing her is running out, it won’t be long before I’ve missed my opportunity. She won’t be around for much longer. 

Her grandson leaves the room while holding his son’s hand, the baby back in the car seat on his arm. Tears are in his eyes, but he’s trying to hide them in front of his kids, not wanting to upset them. 

Through the window, I can still see her hands. She fiddles with the quilt a bit, but they don’t move much. They don’t look like the hands I held years and years ago, but mine don’t look the same either. Scars outline mine just like age does to her’s. 

Is it crazy to think someone’s hands look beautiful? 

A small chime goes off the speakers, indicating that there are ten minutes left in visiting hours. The halls will be cleared soon, medicine will be passed out, and lights will be turned off. 

Ever since I’ve come to visit her in the hospice facility, “soon” has been another word that is thrown around when they mention her. 

She’ll be out of pain soon.

She’ll be reunited with her loved ones soon. 

She’ll be leaving us soon. 

I don’t have any more time to just sit here; “soon” will run out eventually. 

The hallways are almost clear, and the nurses move to their stations and the medicine cabinet to prepare for bedtime. 

This is my chance. My brain doesn’t comprehend what my body is doing when I stalk down the hallway and into the doorway. It wasn’t more than a second before our eyes lock.

Her eyes. Her eyes are still so perfect. They haven’t changed at all. Still soft, bright, and expressive. They have always been so beautiful, so why, at this very moment I’m speechless? I’m sure I’ve seen them over a million times in my life, but they are even better than I remember. Her eyes bring back more memories, ones I was sure were lost forever when Hydra took them. I remember remembering them during my time as the Winter Soldier. They brought me peace then. They’re bringing me peace now, too. They even give me courage. At least enough to look at the rest of her face. 

Her face. The face I was so scared I wasn’t going to recognize was in front of me. Why was I so scared? I couldn’t forget it even if I tried. It’s been decades. Smile, frown, and laugh lines sculpted in, but I feel like they were always supposed to be there. They were mapped out years ago but finally took their rightful place. 

She looks so beautiful. So perfect. 

Her eyes change when she sees me, but there isn’t confusion behind her eyes. There’s relief. 

“We’ll look who it is.” She smiles softly. “I thought you were going to be at work all day.” She removes her blanket and swivels her torso, trying to get out of the bed. She hasn’t been able to move like this in a long time; why is it happening now? 

“You know who I am?” My voice is so quiet, so stuck in the back of my throat that I’m scared I might lose it. 

“James, I know who you are. Not quit messing around and come here.” She giggles and tries to swing her legs to the side of the bed. Her wrist shakingly grabs the railing next to her, the deteriorated muscles using everything they can to pull her out of that bed. Her arms outstretched gently, hands reaching towards me. “Could you help me, Buck?”

I feel like I’m outside my body. Is this even real life? She knows me. Not recognize, knows. I place my hands in hers, too wrapped up in the moment to worry about my arm. Would she notice? Do I care if she notices? No, not really. 

She rubs her thumbs over my hands, something she does to provide comfort. Comfort for what? Does she know what day it is?

“Can you help me out of this bed, Buck? I’m tired of sitting here.” She moves uncomfortably and sighs when she realizes she can’t get up by herself. 

I pull away only for a moment to pull up a chair next to her bed. “I’m sorry, doll, but you need to stay here a bit longer.” I keep my voice quiet, wanting to keep her here at this moment. 

She just nods, her mind too tired to fight with the logic.

“I don’t have to go anymore.” Her eyes go wide; tears fill them and threaten to spill out. “The war is done, and I get to stay here with you.” Her hands go to cover her mouth, a few rouge tears fall from her eyes. 

“Really? Please tell me you’re telling the truth, James. This has to be true.” She moves her hand back down to grasp mine, revealing her hopeful smile. 

“It’s all true. I’m not going anywhere.”  I bring her hand to my lips and softly kiss it. A small, relieved laugh leaves her, and a few more tears come out. 

“C-can we still go to city hall? I want to marry you, Bucky. I don’t want a wedding I want to be married tomorrow.” 

“Of course, darling, of course.” 

• • • • • •

Two days later, I didn’t even have to read the paper. I was met with her eyes one final time…

Sadly, right above it was the title of the column: Obituaries

A/n: Request are open! Look at guidelines and taglist info😚

[kheta]

Things I need in a Reverse Robins AU

-I don’t care what the order is but please let Duke and Jarro be adopted before Damian is taken in! I need Damian to be jealous of an alien starfish, my bones require it 😭

-Duke ans Damian make Jason and Dick’s lives so difficult… not as antagonist and purely because they snuck out and caused so much havock that Bruce now has a sixth sense for when his kids want to act up. They cannot even attempt stealth because Duke and Damian did it better.

-I want Duke and Damian to be those kid brothers that never got along. They used to regularly ‘spar’ (fist fight) but Dick, Cass and Jason don’t believe it because they get along so well now? Tim and Steph are obviously lying.

-A grown Dick Grayson being so mad because he went his whole life wanting to be taller than just one big brother, one! And he never gets it 🥰 (Him and Tim are the same height. He hates it w a passion) Technically he is taller than Jarro. But so is Ace and Tidus, that accounts for literally nothing.

-In contrasts to his big brother’s stealth and sneaking out shennanigans, Tim just straight up lies to Bruce when he wants to take off with YJ, vaguely saying their plans (baseball, trip to some histprical landmark, chilling on Bart’s new ride) So while Bruce blames Duke and Dami for his greys, he says that Tim is the only reason he isn’t fully grey because he’s so responsible and considerate and always tells Bruce everything. (Tim tells Bruce exactly three things, two are half-truths and one is the boldest lie in town 😇 Bruce is nonethewiser.)

-Running off of that, I want Tim to be the sneaky middle child always in chaos, but I want Dami to know this and point it out to Bruce and gst shut down (like Candace Flynn levels of bad)

-Dick is spoilt by his many older siblings. He knows and takes advantage. I’m talking like 18yo Dick Grayson showing up at 22yo Jason’s place when Jason is at College and Jason returns home to find his little brother wearing his robe, eating hia cereal and asking if he can borrow Jay’s car because Bruce is hiding his keys until Dick actually gets a drivers license, which he doesn’t need because he hardly ever drives anyway 🙄😒 Jason tells him to fuck off, kicks him for not throwing thw empty cereal box away and asks where tf he thinks he’s off to anyway??????

-I want Cass to be a bratty younger sister, but only to Jason. She’s happy to hangout and cherishes her time with all her brothers, but she terrorises Jason. Purposefully is quieter when walking near him to frighten him, steals every comfy, bright hoodie he owns, wiggles into his bed and leaves her stuff for him to pick up, clean. She happily helps with chores until Jason asks and suddenly, she did not hear him, she was ‘busy, calm down grumpy.’ I want her looking at his school work and making faces at him if he tries to help her. I want her to want nothing more than to bite Jason, but also have him be her secret favourite brother. I need them to be best friends but the sort who will sell each other out for a single corn chip.

-Dick convinces Damian to help him steal an elephant. If Damian weren’t so weak for his baby brother he’d think about how even tge manor is not large enough to comfortably house an elephant. Duke isn’t completely sure it’s a good idea, but he trusts his brother’s to be smart enough to think this through ☺️ (they have not and will not think the logistics of owning an elephant through) Tim is fully aware this is a bad plan, he’s just even worse at saying no to Dick 💀 Steph is so mad that she has to be the voice of reason among these idiots 😒

-Tim dropping out of High-school actually leads to a huge fight lol. Bc Duke and Damian have Masters and Jason is looking into Ivy Leagues and Cass adores you Tim you need to be a role model 😠 Tim moves to San Francisco and doesn’t talk to Bruce for months after that fight. He still regularly contacts his siblings though.

-Personally don’t love Jason dying in Reverse Robin AU’s, but you know if Joker killed him at 15 he’d be dead in two weeks tops. Oh you want to kill the baby brother of a trqined assassin and Tim, one bad hour away from villany, Drake-Wayne? You think Duke would stop them? Dick? You think wrong. Dick might even try to jump ahead of the line. Cass is perfectly happy to shut her eyes and pretend she cannot see her brothers planning 🫢 The Joker would die a slow and painful death. Steph and Duje would run Batman distraction. (Bruce actually has a support network and two kids younger than Jason who are grieving. He’d need to be a parent and help them with their grief. He’ll probably be shit at it, but he’d still need to try.)

-When Steph starts college she occasionally visits the manor, liberally fills her bag with spare socks, new towels and non-perishables. Alfred doesn’t mind. Bruce does, but only because he’s more than willing to buy it for her and she will kick him if he even glances at any of his credit cards or bank accounts while she is near.

- Barbara probably has a crush on Steph and Tim. Like not a serious, I want a romantic relationship crush. But like ‘Steph is so strong and pretty and she’s so smart Dick, she wants to be a Doctor that’s so cool!’ And Tim is that weird crush you can’t describe. Like Matthew Gray-Gubler. He looks sorta like a raccon and an addict, but he’s weirdly handsome and can work a computer like no one else, ‘isn’t he so smart Dick?’ Dick doesn’t know whether to be jealous or to laugh at her because. Like. Really??? That’s who you think is cute from all my amazing big brothers ans sisters?

-Dick, as youngest brother, probably has the most eclectic music taste. He listens to classical, trap music, K-Pop, scremo, RnB, showtunes. Just all genres. He doesn’t love all genres, bit he k ows enough to have a super weird road trip playlist.

-Dick also always has to deal with his friends, civvie and otherwise, having crushes on his siblings.

-Jarro barely spends holidays with the family, but he gets presents put aside for him and is the most patient, most fun big brother of the batfam. Damian still hates him, but will begrudgingly buy him gifts and invite him to family events because unfortunately, Jarro is his sibling. -Because he's never around, Jarro is the favourite older sibling, with Jason, Cass and Dick always making him projects from school. Duke, Dami and Tim see Jarro more, since they love going to see the JL or going to space and don't care that Bruce disapproves. They will either lie to Bruce or sneak out or just leave the manor 'Because I am a grown ass adult B, you can't ground me.' Steph does not like space or the JL half as much and is more busy studying/working than the other three losers. (affectionate)

-Gotham villains are in shock when, after having highly predictable vigilantes who just come in through the front/back door (Duke and Damian) they are faced with vigilantes who will in fact bazooka an entry way open (Jason and Cass)

[estrellami-1]

We’ll Help You

Started as Steve and Robin platonic soulmate fluff. Devolved into *vaguely waves hands* whatever the fuck this is. I considered writing more but realized it would very quickly become Just Words, instead of a story, and I want y’all to have this because personally I think Steve and Robin are Goals in this one. As it is, there will not be a part 2 to this one… at least, not one written by me! If y’all want to do something by with this, go right ahead; just tag me in it!

“Bye, Mom, Dad, I’m going to Steve’s!” Robin calls into the house.

“Have fun!” Her mother calls back.

“Use protection!” Her dad yells.

“Dick!” Her mother yells back.

“That’s what I’m saying!” He says.

Melissa sighs. “Richard,” she says, faux-sweetly, “Robin and Steve are not together. She’s told us this many times.”

“Yeah, and neither were we when you-”

“Richard!” Melissa takes a breath. “Bye, Robin. Have fun, okay?”

“Okay,” Robin says, and closes the door, getting into Steve’s car with wide eyes.

He chuckles at her expression. “You good?”

“My parents have scarred me.”

Steve makes a face. “What, did you walk in on them?”

“No, they were talking about when they had me! I don’t need to know this, Steven!” She hisses back.

Steve just snorts, shakes his head, and drives on.

Robin is suddenly hit with a familiar, unwelcome pain. “Fuck,” she hisses, bending over and clutching her stomach. “Steve? I need to turn around.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

She wants to cry. “I, uh. Just started? And I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Oh.” A pause, “What medicine do you usually take?”

She blinks. “Um. Advil?”

“Okay. Then I’ve got you covered.”

“No- Steve, it’s not just-”

“Robin,” he says calmly, “I’ve got you covered. I’ve got supplies at home.”

She blinks at him. “Since when?”

His cheeks pinken. “Since we became friends? I just… I dunno. I knew we were gonna be forever, y’know? And I want you to have access to anything you’ll need. So I got some stuff.”

“What the fuck,” she whispers, tears beading in her eyes. “What the fuck, Steve, I’m gonna cry, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Steve shrugs. “I just want you to have what you need.”

She sniffles and leans her head against the window. “Fuck, I love you.”

Steve smiles, puts a hand on her arm, squeezes gently. “Love you too, Robin.”

They get back to his house and get settled in on the couch. “I’ve got a heating pad, if you want it,” Steve offers.

Robin blinks at him. “Marry me.”

Steve laughs. “I thought that’s exactly what we’re trying to convince your parents isn’t happening.”

“I don’t care,” she responds, groaning in relief when she positions the heating pad. She collapses back into the corner of the couch. “I want to have a dick.”

Steve laughs. “You can’t even look at a dick, Robin.”

“I could if it was mine,” she argues nonsensically.

“You don’t want a dick,” he assures her, then pauses. “If you were a guy, would you still like girls? Or would you still be gay?”

“I… don’t know,” she says, thinking. “I mean, there’s people who were born one gender and are the other now, right? And they still like the same gender. So I would too.”

“Okay, but are we talking you were born a guy? Or you’d turn into a guy? Cause if you were born a guy, that might change things.”

Robin groans in frustration. “I wouldn’t care, as long as Satan stopped throwing parties in my uterus every month.”

Steve snickers. “I can’t fix that, but I do have chocolate ice cream.”

“And again I say, marry me.”

He smiles at her, affection shining through. “We’d be the best platonic husband and wife ever.”

Robin smiles, best she can through the pain. “Only if I’m the husband.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “I can be the wife.” He pauses for a second, then asks, “Is that… is that something you’d want? Being a guy?”

Robin hums. “No. Much as I hate certain things that come with being a woman, I definitely wouldn’t want to be a guy.” Steve hums, frowning, and Robin shifts on the couch. “Hold on,” she says, “I know that look. What’re you thinking?”

“Just…” he runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t get what the big deal is? I don’t have super strong feelings about being a guy. There’s nothing telling me, this is who you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay,” Robin says slowly, carefully, “and how about your feelings on being a girl?”

Steve shrugs. “Same. I don’t care either way.”

“Huh,” Robin says, and leans back. “That’s… I mean, that’s okay, obviously, but that’s not… what a guy would typically say.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, ‘cause you’re such an expert on guys.”

Robin groans and thinks her head on the cushion. “Okay, so call someone. Call Eddie, he’d know, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says, and hops up from the couch. “Hey, while I’m over here, should I order a pizza?”

Robin snickers. “Call Eddie first. Maybe he’ll come over and it’ll be the three of us. Actually, don’t even tell him, just invite him over. I wanna see his face when you tell him.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Robs. Eddie, hey! Wanna come over? Pizza and ice cream with me and Robin?”

Robin hisses at him, so he says, “Sorry, ice cream’s been spoken for, actually. Wait, Robs, are you sure? The whole tub?”

“Do not test me, Steven,” comes her response.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah, if you want to get one for the two of us to share, that would be great. See you in twenty? Okay, cool. I’ll order the pizza. Bye!”

He orders the pizza without a hitch. He’s promised delivery within fifteen minutes and wanders back over to the couch, where he grins at Robin. “Wanna pick a movie before Eddie gets here and can veto it?”

Robin grins back. “You know I’m gonna pick something you hate.”

“I know.” His smile turns more genuine. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He waves her off. “Course you do. You gonna pick?”

“I’m surprised you doubted me,” she says, and picks something he hadn’t realized he had.

The pizza arrives a short minute before Eddie does. They all eat before Robin makes Steve and Eddie sit so she can recap everything.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, shrugging. “I just don’t care.”

“So our question is,” Robin says, “do you? Is there something in you that says you’re a guy, or would be wrong as a girl?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods, studying Steve. “Y’know there’s people in between? Who aren’t really a guy or a girl?”

Steve’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “They go by they or them, and a lot of times they’ll change their name to be something more in-between too, like Avery or Taylor.”

“Huh,” Steve says, tipping his head back to stare through the ceiling as he thinks. “So… so if I were to do that… and maybe go by Stevie-”

“Then we’d call you Stevie,” Eddie nods. “We’d say they’re so cool, they have a nailbat, I’m so glad I’m friends with them.”

“Oh,” Steve says. His voice is shaky.

“Stevie,” Robin murmurs. “You’re crying.”

“Oh,” he says again, wiping his face and giving a little laugh. “Sorry. I dunno why. I think… that makes sense.” They look at Eddie, then Robin, holds eye contact when they say, “That’s who I am.”

Robin’s tearing up, too. “Nice to meet you, Stevie,” she whispers.

They choke out a little laugh and move to sit next to her, pulling her into a hug. “Love you, Robbie.”

“You too,” she whispers. “Hey, can I still call you dingus?”

Stevie laughs. “Sure, Robs.”

“Cool.” She beams and pulls them into a tight hug. “‘M glad you figured this out.”

Stevie giggles. “Me too.” They turn to Eddie, “Thanks for helping me figure this out.”

Eddie smiles warmly at them. “Anytime,” he promises. “And hey, now that you know, there’s plenty you can do, if you want to.”

Stevie furrows their brows. “Like what?”

“Well, you could grow your hair out, or cut it. You could change your wardrobe. You could get makeup, if you wanted. Anything that’ll help you feel more like you.”

Stevie frowns. “I don’t know what feels like me.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says, smiling first at them, then at Robin. “We’ll help you.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[fennecfics]

Cuphead Show! King Dice & Devil x Reader preferences (romantic):

Heyyyy I’m gonna be posting more x Reader stuff here. Also some words are censored because Tumblr is a meanie and won’t let me swear in my fanfiction-

The gender for (Y/n) is vague, but it does have menstrual cycle preferences mixed in, along with some talk about these two respecting pronouns and that jazz so, yeah.

Hope it’s a fun read, I might post more of these guys.

Being in a (romantic) relationship with The Devil would include:

• It’s actually hard for him to fall in love or even trust others, so it’ll take a while for him to say “I love you”.

• Though the first time he’ll ever say “I love you” (most likely after a few months of you two dating) it is immediately followed by a scrunch of the face and him going. “That was… strange..” 

• He forces you to live in Hell with him, and only lets you visit Earth on special occasions. Family stuff, friends, but other than that YOU’RE STAYING!!

• He’s so dramatic whenever he has to cut his nails. He’ll run away from you, or hide. Once, while trying to find him to cut his nails, you found him on the ceiling.

• Despite hating his nails being cut, he will literally beg you to paint his nails. He won't just do one color though, he likes to change it up a bit. Sometimes he'll ask for grey, gold, red, but he loves the black nail polish!

• Whenever he has to do stuff that he doesn’t want to do, he tries to argue that he’s the devil and because of that, you can’t tell him what to do.

• One of his favorite activities is burning bibles, so...you have to deal with being woken up to the smell of smoke at 3AM.

• He's still not fond with current technology, but he does seem to enjoy Netflix.

• Devil giving you weird pet names: Darlin', succub!tch, shmoopie, baby-cakes, cow-pie, and tortoise-pigeon (Being the main nickname).

• If you ever need to practice your makeup on someone, Devil won't mind. He likes how it makes him look.

• Surprisingly enough, this guy brushes his teeth regularly. He got them pearly whites. That, and he doesn't want to loose his sharp teeth, they're his favorite, apparently they make him look intimidating.

• Devil is a man of art, very therapeutic for him. He loves to paint, sometimes he’ll want you to pose for him. And he's actually quite quick when it comes to painting.

• Both you and Henchmen helping him whenever he basically gets electrocuted by the sweater. The two of you are practically the only people he trusts, with Dice being the third.

• He doesn't care what gender you are, or if you're trans. If you're still you, and if you're not lying about anything, he won't care. Along with that he also doesn’t KNOW anything about that stuff, so you probably gotta help if you want him to understand.

• Even though he's the devil, he would never want you to feel bad about yourself. He loves you unconditionally, he would kill anyone who makes you feel that way, steal their soul, eat it, then spit it back out ‘cause it’s clearly rotten!

• If you go through the menstrual cycle and are having bad cramps, he gets very…awkward. He’s not very affectionate with others so he has no idea how to comfort people. He’ll most likely just have some of his little demons looking after you for a few days.

• He tries to use correct pronouns, he mostly slips up though, and he won't realize. You just have to be there to correct him for him to actually notice.

Random example:

(He's showing you to someone)

"Yeah, she's really adorable, isn't she?"

"It's 'they'.”

"...AHHH!" *frustrated demon noises*

• He’s not frustrated at you or the fact you use different pronouns, he’s frustrated at himself for not doing it right. So don’t worry.

Being in a relationship with King Dice would include:

• Probably says “I love you” way too fast, and by that I mean on the first date. 

• If you wear makeup he’ll experiment with it whenever you’re asleep. (The masculine urge to wear your partner’s makeup)

• One of his favorite parts of your body happens to be your hands. He loves how perfectly they fit into his. Sometimes he’ll preform a type of show using his hand and your hand as the actors.

• If you go sit in the audience him during Roll The Dice. He'll immediately see you in the crowd and blush for the rest of the show.

• When he knows you're in the audience, he'll say this while announcing to everyone: "Ladies and gentlemen! ..and (Y/n).." (he'll whisper your name under his breath, but loud enough for the microphone to pick it up.)

• King Dice ALSO giving you some (semi)weird pet names: Darling, fuzzy dice, you adorable gambler, my wild card, little poker, and pumpkin.

• The personification of drama. 

• Has a lot of gossip and info on the other famous people of Inkwell. Will tell you this gossip. You will listen. You have no choice-

• This man may seem like he knows how to do shit on his own, but he actually needs help with most things. Such as you having to help with this man's bow-tie every morning, because he just cannot figure it out for the life of him.

• Perfectionist, such a damn perfectionist. He won't go on with his day without him looking perfectly chipper, and he also spends hours in the shower. Really making sure to run up those water bills.

• A little sensitive about his age. If you ask him about it, he’ll say "that's not important" which is an oddly a creepy answer-

• If you wake up early, you'll find Dice in the bathroom just looking at himself in the mirror with a blank stare. If you actually enter the bathroom, he'll be so terrified that he jumps INTO the shower and closes the curtain to hide himself.

• He's mostly insecure about his pips, or dots. He knows he's getting old, because his color is fading. So...he buys lipstick to cover the faded coloring. But you smudged it once while he was kissing you, and he reacted like he was dying.

• He fiddles with his mustache when he's nervous and yet hates if tell him it makes him look like a villain.

• Much like his boss, if you go through the menstrual cycle he gets ungracefully awkward. But he tries to be very casual about it, despite his awkwardness being obvious as hell.

• “Oh, it’s that week?” Silent for a second. “Do you need me to get you anything or ..no?”

• Will buy you everything you need. And since stuff like tampons were fairly new in the 1930s and therefore most likely a tad expensive, thankfully he does have the money for it.

• If reminded, will carry some on him for you. If reminded that is, I’m putting emphasis on “IF REMINDED” for a f—king reason! Guy’s on autopilot all day, he’s famous but also has pretty much everything done for him, and so he doesn’t have to think about much.

• If not reminded he will completely forget and therefore freak the hell out if asked if for some.

• Like The Devil, he has no idea what being Non-binary means, or Bisexual, or anything related to that. I’m not saying he’s straight….He’s not, he just doesn’t know there are words for stuff like that other than ‘homosexual’ and a few other words I can’t mention-

• So, he'll mess up a few times when trying to use the correct pronouns, except he'll correct himself very VERY quickly. 

• "He- THEY.. are my partner. I said they, of course I did. I would never say anything other than they.” Silence for a few seconds before then saying in a much more serious tone: “I said they.”

• He cares. He’s just stupid/j

[descendantsramblings]

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense or sounds weird😭 but can u write morgie x glinda the good witch’s daughter and there’s like a “pink goes good with green” moment? I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense😖😖

No you made perfect sense, sweetheart! Even if it didn’t I’d find something to do with your prompt and let you tell me you hated it and want me to try again if I didn’t get your vision. This is a cute prompt, I’m excited to use it.

Also as per her wiki page, Glinda is a sorceress and not actually a witch so I had such silly idea for this, I love it. Thank you so much for the request anon.

Also, something about them is giving me season 3 Jancy vibes and I adore it, anyway.

Flash Photography

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: the most unlikely of students somehow ended up on the yearbook committee and tasked with their own page in it

Warnings: I swear like once, this one is honestly really sweet and fluffy and honestly a little bit (lot bit) cheesy

Word Count: 2.4K

    As luck would have it, Merlin Academy’s walls only held two students who happened to be the children of sorcerers. Ironically though, as the school’s requirements for every junior to have at least one extra curricular would have it, both young sorcerers were on the yearbook committee. Morgie le Fay made one hell of a photographer, no one in the school could argue on that and (Y/n) was possibly the best journalist the school had seen. No one should have been shocked that the two would be paired together on the magic section of the yearbook. I mean, in a school made for magic, you’d only want the best for the pages about it. And don’t get him wrong, Morgie loves magic. He loves being a sorcerer and he’s excited to have a whole two pages dedicated to sorcery. But to work with (Y/n)? He’s not as sure he’s excited about that, actually there’s this odd feeling floating around in his gut as he thinks about it. Not one he seems to be able to recognize and that drives him crazy.  

    The bubble of pink joy that was the school’s only sorceress seems to float around the place, the movements being nearly mesmerizing. It’s oddly similar to her mother and Morgie can’t help but find some sort of jealousy in it. How was it seemingly so easy for her to connect into her mother’s energy and magic when he never felt like he deserved his own mother’s legacy? It was this mind boggling thing that seemed to leave him staring and unsure as to what caused it. Like she was something to be studied in his mind. 

   Not that that matters though, how could it when she’s perched in the seat next to him, bubbling off ideas as she talks with her hands. The scent of her sweet perfume taking an overwhelming amount of his attention as she nearly beams at him. Bright features filling up the space at their two person table top as they workshop different layouts for the opening pages. They have a base idea for the layout, and a good grasp on when he needs to pop into classes such as “Caring for Magic Creatures” and “Honors Alchemy” to get good shots. But moving on to do their page seems to put both teens at pause, eyes flickering over each other as if begging the other person to make the first decision.

   Morgie finds himself speaking first, words coming out on a groan that he hopes sounds playful, “Well, with the way we dress our spread is going to be a visual nightmare to put together.” It causes the sorceress across from him to scrunch her brows, “What do you mean?” With a vague gesture that seems somewhere close to a wave he references to both of their outfits, “Well you know the green and gold with the pink and silver. Totally clashes, it’ll be a nightmare to take pictures of.” It earns him a giggle, her head shaking as she smiles at him, “No it’ll look great, pink goes great with green, they’re complimentary colors. Trust me, we’ve got this.” Something in him begs to argue with her, but he can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like that. 

   So he nods, pulling the notebook in front of him closer with a smile, “Well then, Madam Good Witch, what are you thinking of writing on this page?” She smiles, looking at him as she absent-mindedly doodles little flowers in the margins of her notebook, “Well, obviously we need to explain what makes being a sorcerer different from other magic users, then I was thinking we could talk about our mothers’ legacies. You know, a good magic versus black magic sort of thing.” Morgie hates the idea, the last think he wants to do is praise his mother and her legacy, but surely that’s what Madam Jinx is looking for. And when the bright bubble beside you looks so excited she seems like she might burst, how do you tell her no? So he smiles, teeth on shy display and nods, giving into exactly what she wants from him. What else was there for him to do? ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・     Morgie le Fay was no idiot, his camera obviously had a timer, there was no need for anyone else to take his picture. But when she asked to do it, bouncing on her toes with that bright smile, how could he say no? How could Morgie do anything but slide the strap of the camera over her head and gently position her hands over his most prized possession? He’s got his hands on top of hers, holding his camera as he points it towards the school, coaching her through how to use it. She’s smiling, soft giggles escaping her lips as she follows his instructions. Bodies seeming to find a comfortable temperature in the January air against one another.  “Okay, now you feel that little wheel at the top of the left side? Slide it until the words on the sign are legible.” She nods, following his instructions, her thumb brushing over his in a ghostly fashion with each movement. “Okay, now what?” “Now, press the button that I put your right index finger on.” He hears the shutter click, her finger dipping down under his as he puts the lightest pressure on it. “There you go! Now, when you do it for pictures of me, you won't need to focus it in as far, just make sure I’m not blurry and you can handle the rest. I believe in you.”

   (Y/n) feels slightly cold as Morgie pulls away from her, letting one hand drop from the camera as she pulls it lower on its strap. Her eyes set on watching the boy walk to stand in front of the cobblestones beside them, setting up a blank backdrop for their photos. She’s studying him, taking in his green button up and gold scarf, leather clinging to his arms in a way that should clash with the rest of his outfit but instead makes it oddly dashing. With a smile pressed over his lips as he eyes her up and down. “You know, you need to hold the camera up to take my picture, right?” “Right, yeah,” and she lifts it back up, focusing the camera in on him, just to drop it again, “Hold on.” The girl's mary janes make a sweet little tapping sound on the concrete as she approaches him, slow and gentle as if she’s sure he’ll startle off like a hurt animal, “Just let me-" A hand comes up to Morgie’s face, softly sweeping a few stray hairs back into the shellacked style he tends to keep it in. “There, that’s better,” she hums, smile laying sweetly on her lips as she backs away, returning to  her former spot as she holds the camera back up. Angling it back to his face and twisting the focus ever so slightly. A lip slipping between her teeth to mask her prideful smirk as she realizes the boy is suddenly a twinge more pink than he was when she first went to take his photo, but what was it she said? Pink goes good with green, doesn’t it? She smiles to herself, letting the shutter of the camera click as she captures that boyish smile and his freshly fixed hair eternally. 

    “Okay, I want to take one more, do you want to do a different pose?” He hums, propping a leg up against the wall and bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck, the other settling on his stomach. “How’s this?” It earns him another one of those bubbly giggles, the girl softly shaking her head, “If you’re going to pose like that, your face better give me attitude, le Fay.” “Oh, I have attitude, don’t you worry about that.” With dramatics he’s tossing his scarf over his shoulder, giving her a once over with a cheeky smirk on his lips, as if he knows he's being outrageously flamboyant. Then the boy lets his face fall to a smolder but from the glint in his eyes, you can feel the way he’s trying not to laugh, something about the mix is nearly intoxicating and (Y/n) finds herself taking two pictures of it, one of him smoldering and one when the dam finally breaks and he can’t stop himself from laughing. His posture falling to be so relaxed as he leans, hand on his stomach coming to clutch it as if that will help him recollect himself, and he just looks beautiful. She can’t help but question if it would be weird of her to ask if she could keep this one for herself. Just a little memory for the road, right? 

   “Alright,” he’s catching his breath as he reaches an arm out to her, “It’s my turn, give me my camera.” She slides the strap off of her neck as she approaches him, handing it back as she turns to take his former place against the wall. “And if I had to give attitude, you better be able to bring it, (Y/n).” Both teens share this cheesy smile for a moment, then Morgie winks, and backs away from her, “I’m serious, you better pose for me.” 

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

    When they first got this assignment, any time that Morgie didn’t spend with his friends or in required yearbook committee meetings, he was with (Y/n). Answering questions about his mom and her legacy for (Y/n)’s half of the work for their magic spread or eventually, just letting himself exist in her presence. Watching movies or reading trashy tabloids together while they did a face mask. Whatever kept him in her presence worked for him. They made an unlikely duo, Morgie was well aware of that, but something about her made him feel at peace. As if he was safe with her. But that was January and February, when deadlines didn’t hang over them as if threatening to fall and crush them. Now as flowers begin to take up every bush on campus and the snow is finally gone, meetings have doubled and Morgie can’t seem to find enough time outside of the dark room. Or if he does manage to get out of the dark room -and not have plans with the other villains- (Y/n) is too busy hunched over a type writer or a notepad for him. Considering he didn’t know how he felt about her two months ago, he seemed oddly lonely without her presence. 

    To say that Morgie got too attached would be the understatement of the year. Through every bubbling giggle and gentle brush of her fingers the sorcerer went from being unsure about her to absolutely infatuated with her. She felt safe, of course he craved that, but there was something else. Something intoxicating about her that he couldn’t help but to crave. Morgie should be embarrassed, he shouldn’t feel this way about her at all, and yet, all he can think about is asking her to the end of the year formal. About a pink tie with his dark suit and a sparkling gown accompanying her glowing complexion. There was nothing to take his mind off of it when he was alone in the dark room like he was now, and he knew better than thinking about his friends like that. At least, he thinks that she’s his friend. The boy shakes his head, as if the motion can clear his thoughts, hanging up the last of the photos that needs to develop so it can dry. He needed to get out of the dark room, maybe go find Hook or someone else who could occupy the quiet spot in his mind.

    He doesn’t expect anyone to be in Madam Jinx’s room when he slips through the door, but to say the sorceress standing over that table was a disappointment would be a lie. He smiles, idling up behind her to peer over her shoulder, eyes flickering over her late night work. Pictures of the two of them are laid out around her, as well as her paragraphs on both of their mothers and what a sorcerer is. She’s moving the slips of paper seemingly aimlessly around the scrap book paper in front of her, the pages a muted yellow tone that matched the rest of that year’s "Excalibur" to a t. “What are you doing in here this late?” He keeps his voice soft, careful not to scare her as he lets his hands come to rest on either side of his friend. Effectively trapping her between himself and the surface before her. (Y/n) slightly jumps at the sound of his voice, taking in a sharp inhale as she does. “Don’t scare me like that.” He whispers a sorry in her ear, leaning over her shoulder to look at the pages. 

    “Try alternating the pictures and the bodies of text, and put the explanation of what a sorcerer is over the top of both pages.” She hums, tilting her head as she picks up the pieces just to drop them back down again, “Show me?” Morgie picks up the picture of him smiling, just to move it aside and grab the picture of him smoldering. “First of all, I look better in this one,” there’s a teasing tone hanging off of his words as he places the photo a centimeter away from the outer edge of the left piece of scrapbook paper. Next, shifting the writing about Morgana over until it’s about two centimeters from the inner edge, the words lower down as to avoid any overlap. He does the opposites with her pictures and the information about Glinda, leaving an open space between their two photos with either body of text next to one another. Finally, he takes the paragraph on what a sorcerer was, letting it fall between their pictures, “There, how’s that?”

   He leans a little further off of her as he speaks, watching as she tilts her head from side to side, taking it in. Then, with that picture perfect smile but no warning she turns on her toes to face him, making Morgie suddenly deeply aware of how close the two of them happen to be. She doesn’t pay it any mind though, smiling up at him with a hand slipping onto his cheek, “Morgie le Fay, you might just be a genius, do you know that?” He's not sure if it's the praise or the physical contact, but suddenly he can’t seem to control himself. Not with the way she’s smiling at him and the feeling of her soft palm against his face. Morgie finds himself leaning into her lips, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses her. The motion is soft and gentle and just as he realizes what he’s doing, he goes to pull away. (Y/n) starts kissing back though, her other hand coming up to his neck and pulling him ever so slightly closer, effectively keeping the boy against her lips. He’s still the first to pull away though, eyes fluttering open as he looks down at her flustered little smile and half lidded eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-” But she laughs, cutting him off as she softly rubs his cheek with a smile, “It’s just like I told you Morgie, pink goes good with green.”

[keisgirl]

hidden by the crown; oikawa tooru

again might delete!

pairing; campus volleyball star!oikawa x gf!reader

kjdhfksjhfdkjs might turn this into a three part fic where you can choose endings to read. one would be fluffy and one would be angst-

wc; 0.8k

multi masterlist

you sat at a small, worn-out table in the corner of the campus café, staring blankly at the coffee cup in your hands. the warmth seeped through your fingers, but it did little to comfort you. your phone vibrated beside you, lighting up with a familiar name—oikawa tooru. you sighed, pushing it aside as you ignored yet another message from him.

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him. no, you always wanted to talk to him. but today was different. today, you couldn’t stomach hearing from him, especially when the same thing happened—again. another girl had approached you in the hallway, all smiles and nervousness, asking you if you could help her confess to oikawa. you were used to it by now—being seen as his best friend, his confidante. the girl even mentioned how lucky you were to be so close to him, to be his friend.

you were tired. tired of being the one who knew everything about him, the one who he kissed behind closed doors, but never in public. best friend—that’s all anyone saw when they looked at you. you were the secret, the one he kept tucked away from the spotlight that constantly followed him around. it wasn’t that he didn’t care. he did. you knew it in the way he’d brush his fingers against yours under the table when no one was looking, or how he’d send you texts that no one else would ever get to read.

but still, it hurt.

it hurt every time someone told you how perfect he was, how they wished they had a chance with him. and you—what were you supposed to say? you couldn’t even claim him, couldn’t say that he was yours without blowing everything up. his fans, his image—he always said it wasn’t the right time, that it would cause more trouble than it was worth.

the door to the café opened, and you didn’t need to look up to know it was him. his presence was like gravity, pulling everyone’s attention the moment he walked into a room. you forced yourself to take a sip of your coffee, your throat tightening as you heard the footsteps approach.

“hey,” his familiar voice greeted you softly, sliding into the chair across from you. his hand reached out, gently nudging yours, but you pulled away, setting the cup down on the table with a soft clink.

“what’s wrong?” oikawa’s brows furrowed, his usual cheerful expression dimming as he looked at you. “you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

you exhaled sharply, finally meeting his gaze. “do you ever get tired of it?”

he blinked, caught off guard. “tired of what?”

“tired of this.” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “of me… being a secret.”

his face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. “babe, we’ve talked about this…”

“yeah, we have,” you cut him off, voice quieter now, but no less strained. “and i thought i could handle it. but today—god, tooru, another girl asked me to help her confess to you. she was so sweet, and i had to stand there and pretend like it didn’t feel like a punch to the gut.”

he was silent for a moment, his eyes dropping to the table. “i didn’t know it was this bad.”

“well, it is,” you murmured, your heart aching. “i don’t even know why i’m telling you this. nothing’s going to change. you’ll just keep being the volleyball king, and i’ll keep being the girl that no one knows about.”

“stop that,” his voice cracked as he reached for your hand again, this time more firmly, and you let him take it. “don’t say it like that.”

“like what?” you whispered, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “like the truth?”

oikawa’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away. “i hate that you feel this way. i don’t want you to feel like you’re less important than anything else in my life. but it’s not that simple—”

“it never is, is it?” you smiled bitterly, pulling your hand away from his once again. “there’s always some excuse, something to justify why you can’t just… admit it.”

he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “do you think i like this? do you think it’s easy for me, seeing all these people fawn over me when the only one i care about is sitting right in front of me?”

you stayed quiet, his words not offering the solace you wished they would.

“i know i’ve been selfish,” oikawa said, voice softer now. “but i love you. i’m just… scared.”

you raised an eyebrow, not expecting that. scared? he was never scared of anything—or at least, that’s what everyone thought. confident, cocky oikawa tooru, afraid? of what?

“scared of what, exactly?” you asked, your tone less biting now, genuine curiosity slipping in.

he sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands for a moment. when he looked up again, his eyes were tired, his usual spark dimmed. “scared that if i let people know about us, things will change. you know how people can be. i’m afraid they’ll tear us apart, make it impossible for us to just… be.”

“tooru…” you whispered, his vulnerability catching you off guard.

he reached for your hand again, more desperately this time. “i know i’ve been asking you to wait, and it’s not fair. but please, don’t give up on me. don’t give up on us.”

you bit your lip, trying to stop the tears from falling. this was the side of him no one else saw—the boy underneath all the bravado and charm. the boy who was just as scared as you were, but for different reasons.

“i’m not giving up on you,” you finally said, your voice trembling. “i just… i need you to meet me halfway. i can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t hurt.”

he nodded, squeezing your hand tightly. “i’ll do better. i promise. just… don’t walk away from me.”

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over you. it wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was something. it was a start.

“okay,” you said softly, allowing your fingers to intertwine with his. “but you can’t keep me in the dark forever, tooru.”

“i know,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. “and i won’t.”

it was a quiet promise, one that would take time to see through. but for now, you’d hold on to it, because despite everything, you loved him. and as long as he was willing to try, so were you.

should i make it two part..

[moody-alcoholic]

Special Delivery Service

Chapter 9 - The Old Friend

Summary: Simon x Reader. 3.7k words. 141 are in France to investigate the terrorist cell causing havoc, but maybe they should have been looking closer to home.

CW: mentions of fictional terrorist attacks, angst.

Previous - masterlist - Next

Enjoy <3

It was the first time you felt out of place, like you weren’t supposed to be there. When you walked into the storeroom with Simon it felt like daggers when everyone's eyes turned to you. John’s was the worst. You hung your head feeling embarrassed, you almost wanted to just leave say you’ll see Simon when he get’s back. But he insisted it was okay, and that you should come along. 

“A word,” John said to Simon through gritted teeth. You sheepishly walk over to the table where Kyle and Johnny are. There is gear and paperwork everywhere somethings stacked in neat piles other stuff just spread out with markings. 

“Ever been to Paris lass?” Johnny asks. Even though you definitely don’t belong here he still has a massive grin on his face. You nod taking another step up to the table. You can see maps of what looks like Paris and other cities you don’t recognise. 

“What are you going to do? Kill some terrorists?” You joke trying to lighten the heavy feeling in the air. Kyle raises an eyebrow at you Johnny’s smile fades a little. You swallow hard watching their expressions change. 

“I’m joking.” You say feeling embarrassed. 

“How much has Si told you ‘bout our old jobs?” Johnny asks. You open your mouth to answer but the door opening behind distracts you and has your head turning to see Simon and John walk in.

“Laswell is meeting with us at Heathrow.” John says, there’s an edge to his voice, he sounds annoyed. You want to turn and look at Simon who you can feel behind you, you wonder what they talked about they weren’t gone for long. Everyone's listening to what John is saying but it feels like he’s being intentionally vague. 

“-it’s a shame none of you learned French.” You hear John say. 

“I speak French.” You say. They all turn to look at you.

“Fluently?” John asks you nod. 

“I had a knack for languages in school.” John looks around the table and down at the plans. He thinks for a second then nods. It’s almost like you can hear what he’s thinking. Guess you’re not totally useless after all. 

 ——————————

You’re nervous, tapping your leg under the table, so much so Kate has to put her hand on your knee to get you to stop. You wrap your hands round the coffee you’ve almost finished. What if you couldn’t understand them? What if you can’t help and John has wasted his chance. You push the thoughts away as you wait for the other man to show up. It was supposed to be simple, that’s what John said when you all arrived at the rental you were staying at. Two guys having a meeting, your job was to listen, translate, and do as you’re told. John showed you pictures of the men in question and you had them burned into your memory, looked like your average looking middle eastern guys. They looked young maybe early 20’s it made you sad to think people so young had so much hate. 

“How long have you and Riley been together?” Kate asks suddenly. You try not to look shocked at the question. 

“It’s not like that. We’re not..together.” You say taking a sip of coffee, or maybe it is, you just haven’t put a label on it yet. 

“I see the way he looks at you.” Kate says pushing her sun glasses back up on her face. You look back down at the coffee, trying to hide your blushing. 

“How long have you worked with them?” You ask. Changing the subject. 

“Years, when they were still active duty we used to work very closely together.” Kate says. You still don’t know what you think of her but from the reunion at the airport it seemed at least her and John were close. All smiles and hugging. Kate Laswell CIA, John introduced her as. You shook her hand as she looked back at John confused. You wanted to pick their brains ask them all about her but it felt rude.

“You and John seem close.” You say trying to pry information from her. It didn’t mean to come across as a dig at her but it felt like one. Especially after she asked about Simon.  

“Yeah, he’s saved my ass a couple of times, I saved his too.” She smiles sipping her coffee. She looks older then John, or maybe they’re the same age. John doesn’t even seem that old, you keep forgetting to ask Simon how old he really is. You suspect the bags under his eyes and wisps of silver hair you seen now and then make him seem older then he is. 

“Did you to ever..” You trail off not really knowing how to ask. She smiles and lets out a little chuckle.

“Strictly professional, besides he’s not my type.” You smile at her. She’s nice at least and doesn’t seem to be bothered by your presence. You look past her seeing the man you’ve been waiting for walk into the cafe. He greets his friend and sits down. You turn your body so you can hear them better. The conversation starts off normal up until their coffee is bought over. The it turns to something more serious. 

“They’re talking about the attack.” You relay to Kate, keeping your voice low. You’re trying to listen for specifics. Your fingers tap the table as you try to keep up with what they’re saying. You haven’t really practised French that much and they are talking quite fast. Kate told you to pay attention to dates, numbers, locations, specifics like that even if they didn’t make sense. 

“They’re not happy the second bomb was found.” You say, you’re surprised they’re talking about this so open in such a public place. It makes you nervous, they’re not afraid if innocent people get hurt. You try to relax focusing all your effort on trying not to look so obvious listening in to their conversation. 

“They know a guy on the inside, who works for the metro. He’s the one they’re using to plant the bombs, apparently he’s under too much suspicion, he can’t do it.” You look at Kate she’s writing down what you’re saying in a notebook. 

“They’re talking about an airport, not Charles de Gaulle, another one. They have tickets, they’re leaving tonight.” You say hearing one of the men hand over a ticket to the other. 

“They’re talking about another target. Somewhere big, that’s why they have to leave. It’s in Paris.” You try to will them to say a name anything. Instead the conversation abruptly ends with the buzzing of a phone. The man who showed up later says his goodbyes and takes his leave. You watch as he passes you and Kate out the cafe. 

“We need someone to tail the mark, he’s leaving now, with a plane ticket. Get the ticket.” Kate says on the phone, then turns to you. 

“Order us another coffee.” You nod waving the waiter over asking for a refill. You watch as the man leaves the cafe, a few seconds later you see a glimpse of Johnny. Your heart starts beating rapidly as you watch him weave through the crowds after the man. You sip the coffee letting it burn your mouth suddenly worried about him. He knows what he’s doing. You remind yourself they’re SAS soldiers.

Kate keeps a conversation with you about something generic, you’re only half listening your ears still burning like you’re waiting to start listening to another conversation. It’s almost midday now the sun is belting down, the coffee not helping. Before you know it you’re uncomfortably sweating, you know you have to stay until the other man leaves. You hear a phone ringing it’s the man behind you, you look at Kate who smiles moving her hand to the pen.

You listen carefully, it’s harder when you’re only getting one side of the conversation apparently. Your breath catches in your throat as you hear the words out his mouth translating them in your head. You almost want to turn around and ask him to repeat it, then you remember the situation. 

“The other man knows he’s being followed.” You say to Kate. Before she can respond the man gets up from the table rushing out the cafe in the direction you saw Johnny go. Kate is already on her feet on the phone before you have chance to process what’s happening. You follow her blindly back to the house you came from. You hope Johnny is okay and they managed to get the word to him. You rush through the doors to see John and Simon gathered round the table. Kyle and Johnny are not here, they turn to you as you walk over to the table.

“Good work.” John says to you and you smile looking down at the map on the table. Kate and John talk when something grabs your eye, it’s a piece of paper with part of a poem written on it. You pull it out from the stack. There is a rough translation scribbled next to it. It’s a bad translation though. 

“What’s this?” You ask holding it up. John almost looks annoyed your interrupted their conversation. 

“Part of a poem we think, they’ve been using them to send messages, thought it was important but the translation says otherwise.” Price says crossing his arms.

“Chanson de la Seine.” You say looking at it. “The translation is bad though. Notre dame jalouse. It’s not; our lady is jealous, that’s a direct translation. It’s talking about the location on the river seine, the Notre-Dame cathedral.” You look at them waiting to see if they understand. Then it hits you what it means. Shit.

  ——————————

You’re laying on the sofa watching the TV when everyone leaves. The news is showing the recent ‘terrorist scare’ which as lead to the Notre-Dame being evacuated. You smile, you helped cause that. It was a good thing, the safest thing to do. Johnny and Kyle came back from chasing the guy not long after John and Kate had made calls to the French authorities. They didn't get him instead coming back when John called them. You weren't really listening much after that, they all kind of went around doing their own things for about an hour before they were picked up by some gendarmes.

Even Kate went with them, you wished you could have gone too but instead you were told to stay here and expect them to be back in a few hours. John had given you all the rest of the poem and song verses they had collected and asked you to look over them. You haven’t bothered yet looking over at the pile lying on the coffee table. You should make a start though its the least you can do to help them out, and they probably need them done sooner rather then later.

You sit up picking the pile up while watching the TV. It kind of feels like your in school again doing your French homework for the week. The first two have been translated well so you put them too the side. There are some old classic poems you recognise from your french classes, the rest are songs old and new. The verses are nitpicked though not in any kind of order. Maybe there was an order but you didn’t have all the information. Some were dated and had locations on them others were blank.

You look back up at the TV as the news caster says a British counter-terrorism unit has been sent over to aid with the ongoing attacks. You see John in the background as the caster moves to the side, then Simon and Kyle. Simon has that scary mask on the one that looks like a skull, even from the brief shot before they move away it sends shivers up your spine. You don’t see Kate anywhere, you assume since she was the only one who left the house without all the military gear on, she’s probably behind the scenes.

You don’t have time to think about it much longer before there is a sharp knock at the door. Your body freezes in fear as your hand grips the paper you were reading. You wait a second looking towards the front door. There’s another harsh knock that goes on for longer. You turn the TV off waiting, not knowing what to do. If it was them they all have keys, plus you just saw them all on live TV. You wait for the next sound expecting another knock but instead you hear a power tool.

You panic, they’re going to break in. You stand up clutching the papers in your chest with your phone thinking of a place to hide. There’s a chubby in the kitchen where the cleaning supplies are, you could go in there. You head over to it but the decide different. There is an en-suite in the master bedroom, that has to have a lock.

The drilling has stopped and you hear metal clanking you have to pick. You rush into the master bedroom leaving the door open and lock the en-suite as you hear voices. You slap your hand to your mouth so you don’t make a sound the papers falling from your arms. Someone says search the place. You can’t hear them very well but you hear footsteps in the bedroom. You hold your breath hoping he’ll think the door is a wardrobe and give up when he can’t get in. The door handle jiggles but thankfully the person gives up.

You hear more people talking, there must be at least 4. You scoot over to the door and press your ear up against it. You try to concentrate on them talking your ears ringing as your heart pounds in your chest, you press your hands against the door your body shaking. 

“How did they know?” Someone says. 

“The woman she’s American CIA.” Another replies, you’re struggling to hear your mind racing at 100 miles an hour at least you don’t have to translate for anyone. Then you remember your phone, you pull it up in your shaking hands. Who do you call? You go to your contacts pulling them up and thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t call you can’t really talk right now. You hear power tools again. 

“Are you almost done with the door?” Someone says. “Have you finished setting the bugs up?” 

“Yeah, should I put some in the bedrooms?” A new voice asks. 

“Only if you want to sort through hours of snoring audio.” 

“Come on let’s get out of here, before they come back.” The same deep authoritative voice says. You’re shaking as you type on the phone, you don’t even know what to say. You think you hear them leave but you’re too scared to look instead sitting up against the door. No one replies to your message, you feel tears streaming down your cheeks as the adrenaline wears off. You stay in the spot on the bathroom door for what feels like hours when you hear the front door again.

This time using a key, it has to be them, a second later you hear their voices. You stand up your body stiff legs aching as you leave the safety of the en-suite. You’re shaking as you go out into the living room seeing them all turn to look at you. Concern washes over their faces. You put your finger to your mouth your eyes wide looking round them all. They look confused you reach out grabbing John’s arm and pulling him towards the bedroom gesturing for the others to follow. They do if not very slowly, when they’re all in the room you close the door behind them. 

“People broke in while you were out, they were looking for something. They knew about Kate being CIA. I think they were planting microphones, something around the place. But not in the bedrooms, they said they didn’t want to listen to all the audio of snoring. I don’t know how many there were but they broke the door with power tools.” You pause for a second realising that you’ve just been blurting words out. Your eyes flick up to Simon, you wish he could hold you right now, you wish you could see his face. His scary mask is gone but he’s still sporting the ski mask you’ve seen him in before. 

“Okay, sit down.” John says pressing your shoulders so you sit down on the bed. 

“Take a breath and start again.” He says. You follow his instructions talking in a big gulp of air and starting again. You go over everything how you were watching TV when you heard them knocking on the door. You hid in the en-suite and listened to them talking. They said they were planting bugs and then you were too scared to leave. You show them the word vomit text you sent then the next thing you remember is hearing them come back. 

“Soap, Gaz search the place, Ghost stay with her, Laswell with me.” Everyone but Simon leaves the room. You’re still gripping your phone when Simon rests one of his hands on your shoulder, it makes you tense up for some reason but he gives you a gentle squeeze anyway. You try to relax as you wait for everyone to finish doing their jobs.

“You did good.” Simon says, you look up at him, he’s looking down at you his expression soft. You smile at him, your cheeks still puffy from crying.

“How did it go, did you find anything?” You ask. He shakes his head and you nod. You don’t know if that mean’s they didn’t find anything or he can’t talk about it until they know the place is clear. 

“Got one.” Johnny says, you look through the bedroom door to see him throw something on the table. A few minutes later Kyle throws one on the table. Then Johnny with another. You feel sick it reminds you of when Kyle found the cameras in your place. This is different though way more dangerous, these people are planting bombs to kill people. You watch as John picks one up in his hand before looking over into the bedroom. His eyes meet yours for a second then he looks up at Simon. 

“We’re leaving tonight.” John says suddenly. Simon walks out the room over to the table while you sit there watching them rush around to pack everything up. You had barely been in Paris 12 hours and now you’re already leaving. You head into the en-suite picking up the papers you dropped when you rushed in there. You bring them out to hand them to John who’s stacking papers back into folders. 

“Did you manage to go through them all?” He asks. You shake your head. He goes to open his mouth again but then a phone starts ringing, then another. John take his phone out his pocket. You hear Kate talking too. You watch as they both lock eyes with each other. John goes over to turn the TV on. You sneak past him watching the news caster, your stomach drops when you see the footage. It's London. You’re not even listening to Kate and John on their calls just watching the plumb of smoke rise up out the underground station entrance. 

“Holy shit.” You gasp your hand flying to your mouth. Simon, Johnny and Kyle come over to see too. 

“What are they saying?” Kate asks now she’s off the phone. John leaves going into the bedroom closing the door behind him. 

“It happened about an hour ago, evening rush hour. They’re not sure who did it.” You say looking round as you translate. It’s making a lump form in your stomach. 

“12 people dead, more injured thats the preliminary numbers.” You feel your phone start vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out it’s your mum. 

“I have to get this, my mum will be worried.” You say going off to the side. When your mum answers the phone you hear sniffling. Everything stops your body freezes you feel a lump form in your throat.

“Mum?” You say hoping she’s just worried about you. 

“It’s Dylan” She sobs. You can’t breathe, your brother Dylan. You feel sick and dizzy all at once. 

“Mum?” you say again your voice breaking. “Is he dead mum?” She doesn’t answer her sobbing just getting louder.

“Oh my God.” You breathe down the phone gripping it as hard as you can. Your stomach’s doing flips. Your little brother, this can’t be happening. He’s the good kid the one who was supposed to do something with his life. 

“Hello?” There is a new voice on the line now. It’s familiar though you recognise it. 

“Yes, hello?” You say fully sobbing now, you hear the door to the bedroom open behind you. 

“It’s Christine from next door. Dylan is alive, at least that was the last update we got.” She says.

“W-when was that?” You as trying to wipe the tears away. You feels someone come up behind you. You hope it’s Simon, all you want now is to get back to the UK. 

“About 10 minutes We don’t know what is happening I assume you heard about the bomb?” She says.

“Yeah.”

“He was on the train, he was injured. A paramedic called us, but we have not had an update since.” She says. You can hear the sadness in her voice too, and your mother sobbing in the background. 

“I’m so sorry.” She says. You don’t know what to say. 

“Please keep me updated.” You say your voice breaking again. You don’t want to hang up you can’t not while your mother is breaking in the background. You wish you were in London, you wish you were home. You put the phone down turning to see everyone's eyes on you. It was Johnny who had come up behind you, you swallow hard holding the phone up. 

“My brother was on the train.” You manage before you just turn into a sobbing mess, the reality finally hitting you. Johnny doesn’t hesitate wrapping his arms round you and squeezing you tight. You wish it was Simon holding you instead, you wish your brother was okay. You wish you were home. 

Next

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This chapter failed the bechdel test so hard. I will make it up next chapter...

[hannahssimblr]

She seems brighter when she comes back, though we all ignore the blotchiness of her face, like she’s just been crying. Her lashes are a little wet too, making them long and spiky like she’s a girl from a cartoon. She and Liam are smiling into each other's faces now, mumbling vague reassurances, giggling together as though what just occurred was so silly, and hasn’t caused any genuine hurt to either of them. 

When he kisses her on the cheek she flinches slightly as though there is something objectionable or embarrassing about the way that he touches her, and in that moment his insecurity makes sense. 

I think everyone feels bad for her then and wants for her to feel included because they start asking her questions about school which she answers enthusiastically, making sure to look very interested and engaged in what everyone is saying. It occurs to me that she’s a nice person, that she’s making an effort with others and being polite, and perhaps my initial judgement of her formality was unfair. I think I should try harder to be a nice person too, but then I wonder if it’s even in my nature to be that way. I’ve sort of already embraced being a bastard and allowed it to define me. 

“Tell everyone what you want to do in college,” Shane encourages, and Evie fiddles with the ends of her plaits. “Oh, well, art, I think.”

“You make art?” I say.

Immediately her face reddens. It must be a side effect of her kind of complexion. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m okay at it.”

“Everyone says she’s great at it.” Liam says proudly, as though we are discussing his accomplishments and not Evie’s. “I haven’t seen her drawings yet, but the girls were raving about her. She draws in her sketchbook every day.”

“That’s cool.” I speak pointedly to her and not him, “What do you draw?” 

“Just whatever I see. Landscapes, people, sometimes still life, like stuff that’s lying around in the mobile home. I really like doing it, because when I’m drawing I don’t have to think about anything else.”

I smile. Somehow it’s comforting to hear her talking about art in a way that’s wholly familiar to me, as a meditation, a form of escapism.

“Jude is an artist too.” Jen says. “Ye have something in common.”

“Yeah, I’m studying art in college next year. I already have my place in the Berlin Academy of Fine Arts to do a degree.”

“Oh, so you’re studying abroad?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be good. Four years in Germany, I can’t wait. I’m actually leaving at the end of the summer,” which is… about seven weeks. My palms prickle and become damp with sweat but I keep smiling. It’s fine. Everything will just fall into place as long as I don't get stressed. 

Claire interrupts our conversation with her return, and kneels whispering urgent sounding things to Evie. I don’t hear anything but the delightful phrase “throwing up everywhere” and wonder with utter dread what exactly constitutes everywhere. On the couch? The rug? Up the walls? Well, at least it’ll be motivation to clean the house for once. Still, I’m struck by how much I fucking hate Kelly Healy in that moment, and consider suggesting that Jen clean up her vomit as penance for inviting her in the first place. 

“I can get my dad to come and collect us,” Liam is saying as he and Evie are getting up to help.

“Is everything okay?” says Jen, and Evie smiles tightly, “Yeah, just Kelly’s sick, so we’re going to have to take her home and look after her and stuff.”

“You don’t have to go, Evie, you can stay here with us if you want.”

She shakes her head, “No, I do. I want to go with them,” she turns to leave, but Jen quickly catches her wrist, “Hey, you should come to Dublin with us this weekend.”

“Huh?”

“Jude and I are going to an exhibition, and you might really like it.”

Usually I’d be pissed off that she’s changing our plans without consulting me first, but it seems like a good idea to me, actually. Maybe it’d be nice to go to an exhibition with someone who enjoys art, and not just Jen who walks around pointing at things and saying I could do that if I was bothered.

“No pressure at all,” I assure her, “but yeah, if you want to, you’re welcome. We’ll mostly be hanging out in the city for the day anyway so whatever you feel like doing.”

Jen pats her hand and gives her a meaningful look, “I’m just saying, it might be nice to get away for an afternoon.”

Evie grins. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her look all night, “I’d love to.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[jewishregulus]

How do you headcanon regulus personality to be like? Do you feel as though James and regulus complement each other in some ways?

why yes of course! i fundamentally disagree w outwardly mean and evil regulus bc it makes no sense canonically. perhaps in an au where he separates himself from his parents and gets to be happy but regulus cares too much to be outwardly rude to people . it would impact his reputation and his families reputation like he isn’t hexing people in the hallways . he’s a professional faker (shit talks behind people’s back most definitely) and feels guilty and horrible everytime he’s plagued with an evil thought . i know many people view him as a selfish character but i think he’s fundamentally not . he puts everyone else’s wishes for him above his own . he doesn’t really exist as a person outside of his family . i do think , outside of this control, he would be sarcastic and have very dry humor , would love to read and would be very introverted but long for connection and friendship. a loner not by choice, he enjoys company but has no idea how to reach for it. i think he loves magic and magical creatures and genuinely holds a lot of love in his heart that his family disapproves of !! regulus soft black !!! not to say i think regulus doesn’t have an attitude and an edge …. i just think he has fundamentally good morals sorry! i’m a good person regulus black enjoyer i can’t help it …. of course he’s morally gray but most of the decisions he makes r caused by the life long abuse and trauma he is subject to . regulus black was suicidal as hell in those deatheater meetings the moment he turned 18 he killed himself LMFAO . i just know he was the most uncomfortable person in there at any given moment . i think vaguely threatening posh regulus is true but it is his exterior and the assumptions ppl make … and then they get to know him and realize he’s got like a little kid version of himself who holds the world with so much fascination . and it makes you sad when you realize he thinks it’s a flaw and wants to stomp it out

in this way i think he compliments james very well!! both people who really do value others and life but behave in very odd judgmental ways (regulus being a fake recluse who can’t function as a person w control over his life and opinions who is fake as hell and sarcastic whilst also having no understanding of social situations and desperate to be liked by people around him. number one peer pressure victim. 15,000 mental illnesses and a penchant for self harming behavior.) (james potter who is unfortunately consistently acting like a frat bro at any given moment : assumes everyone naturally loves him and is mostly right which does evil things for him as a person . would die for his friends but is also insufferable to be around (affectionate) . harshly judgmental to anyone who doesn’t fit into his box of what counts as a good person (which by the way regulus challenges in a way i think helps james as a character!) . looping back to the frat bro thing i think james is the type of person to throw a crazy party and convince everybody to drink and do unsafe things for the fun and when u realize u don’t have a ride home and can’t walk u are so fucking SCARED to ask to stay the night bc of his general vibes but then he ends up taking care of you and getting u pain killers and making like an awesome breakfast for the whole crew? should be the worst person you know but just beneath the surface is so much good it’s impossible to hate him.) you would never think these people would get along but then they both love quidditch and train for it like it’s their life and they are both academics with serious opinions on art and literature they would both die for even though they are often opposing . they are the first people they can have a conversation with and truly match eachothers freak on any given topic. the fundamentals of both of their characters is how much they care about life and the things inside of it . it manifests in different ways but i truly think the thesis of jegulus is that they are so much more similar than one might think outwardly , and it creates a soft intimacy between them . and also just james introducing the concept of silliness fun and happiness into regulus’ life lol!!

[lifenconcepts]

Hi I wanna talk to someone so im just gonna ramble in your askbox about brain words if that’s okay :D

is it only me who likes being psycoanalized?? Because I feel like I see a lot of people upset about it but it makes me feel seen in a way I don’t get a lot and it’s so fascinating!! Psychology in general is but like. You figured that out so easily?? From a few things?? Woaw!! And!! It’s accurate!! You perceived me accurately!!! I hate hate hate being perceived inaccurately. Also just like. please. tell me things about myself that will lead to late night sessions of over analyzing myself. I love it so much!! That reminds me, earlier I was with a friend and I have this weird thing where I can make my shoulder blades stick out freakishly far (I once opened a doorknob with them) and they said it was like wings bc im a dragon NOT MNOWING ABOUT ME BEING OTHERKIN!!!! It was so affirming. Anyway sorry for lots of ranting I was just bored and figured you’re just weird enough (/pos) to appreciate it? Maybe? Sorry if this is unwanted or intrusive tho

HIIII!! I love when people ramble oh goodness it’s lovely to read what you have to say!! Sorry for late response but I really do love this! Yes I’m absolutely weird enough for such topics!!

okay so, to your first question (no matter the rhetorical nature) I believe that many enjoy being psychoanalysed, most specifically people with neurodivergences, because it usually is much easier to have things blatantly given to you on a splatter which you can then reflect over if they’re true or not. Many ofcourse dislike bold claims their way but others (me too!) crave it because it allows you to have a starting point, because we carry so much in our brains that it’s easy to forget where it all begins and how to approach it! Easiest of all, is going to some random quiz (wether it be what character you are, do I have autism, or assigning you a concept) and then deducing yourself from the questions themselves and the results you get. But sadly what I noticed is that in most cases, especially stuff like zodiacs, they’re far too vague to be able to confidently stand by like “yeah this is me!” But it still doesn’t stop everyone.

especially most interesting of all is I noticed that even more matured individuals (haha like cheese) still fall into the trap of wanting to be like others. It’s usually a mask for being accepted, heard, and appreciated.. but it results in losing your sense of self (if you had any) and becoming much more confused. People crave a sense of belonging and purpose, no matter if meaning even matters to them but they just want to exist in a space that’s curated to them. And I know it from previous experience, but people even who never were worried about it begin questioning if they’re a therian/otherkin from seeing a lot of such content, endo systems and such, and self diagnosis of mental illnesses and/or disorders. Also the whole thing with name, gender, pronouns, sexuality - it’s seen as this big trio that eeeeveryone should know about, but to those which blatantly don’t have such a concept within their identity, they now go searching through information as to ‘why do I feel this way? Why don’t I feel connected to this? Is it something wrong with the stuff or with me? Maybe everyone feels only vague emotions about this? I should just choose something to fit in.’ which most forms as some incoherent impulse of desire in the mind. hey hey, and the point is not that we don’t deserve spaces or communities but rather that the very real result of such attention causing people to actively seek out whatever it is that they keep seeing, to the point of willing it into their lives. And I’ll be a bit open here, but I faintly believe some identities (not the term as a whole, it’d be very bold to claim an entire subcategory is all of such individuals) but like.. copinglinks, fictionkin, and some endo systems, I believe, follow this principle. “Willogenic” being a very self-aware term for this too!

But hey, everyone wants to know themselves and most don’t care to look any deeper, they’re patient and satisfied with their little world and think that ‘if I don’t like when people bother me, then others don’t like it to’ (which by the way is a dumb mentality to have. You can’t paint your own experience and preferences onto other people as a ‘fact’) and basically almost everyone remains in their bubble no matter if they show it or not, and I assume you also do, because it never is clear if everyone thinks alike or will appreciate the same conversation. It’s just so hauntingly obvious that the loop of “I don’t know what the other is thinking and so I’ll just stay silent” from both sides, resulting in a looming silence between you and whoever it is you speak with.

Reflection is a natural part of life, not just purely regarding spirituality, but if you even slightly consider what is good or bad and what meaning is and why you are what you are, you already have some element of spirituality in ya. In fact, in my personal opinion, I believe that anyone who tries to understand themselves at a deeper level is much more capable and incredible of a person than they believe. Doubt can cause you to spiral but if you’re even slightly making an attempt, you’ll achieve heights like never before. Destroying old habits, forming new ones, being aware of mental dangers, avoiding triggers no matter how obscure, doing more of what makes you happy and satisfied, and overall having a self. Identity isn’t nowhere near as important as having a healthy relationship with yourself, but people just don’t seem to recognise it. That’s why I secretly despise those intro posts although it helps me understand someone new I followed, because really, if you’re actively following them you’ll recognise their habits. You can have a name in your profile description, but why do you crave to know what gender you have? To broadcast to the world where and how you feel attraction? Do you crave to be heard? You must enjoy the knowledge that we all love and adore you.

and hey, it’d probably make sense that on tumblr litterally everyone either is cool with your identity or interested in knowing more, with a few exceptions here and there if your algorithm is kind.

ah sorry, did I ramble too much from the main point? I love doing that ahaha. But basically it’s entirely natural and much MUCH more common than you think..

[ghcstao3]

(from this post. i got excited)

It’s an easy job, at the very least.

Show up, have Price assign a location, sell produce for eight hours straight, go home. Repeat the next day, or two days from then, whichever is most convenient to the farmer running the entire operation. Proceed all summer long.

It’s simple, almost too simple, but who is Johnny to complain when he’s getting paid above minimum wage to essentially sit around all season?

At least, Johnny wouldn’t be one to complain if it weren’t for the fellow university student he’s consistently paired up with to work alongside.

It’s not that Simon is rude or unpleasant or anything—in fact, if he was, Johnny thinks it might make things a bit easier—he’s just… quiet. And frustratingly intriguing but so unresponsive to Johnny’s attempts at making the days that seem to stretch on forever just a little more bearable.

At some point Johnny starts to think Simon hates him, with the way he’ll hold longer conversations with customers than with his own coworker. It’s miserable, in all honesty, because Johnny had just hoped to come away from this job with a friend, like most of his past employments—instead he’s been saddled with one-word responses and the barest hint of a cold-shoulder and it’s driving him insane.

But Johnny lets Simon ignore him. He’d prefer mutual company, sure, but he also recognizes when limits are set.

So when they’re trapped under their stand of the day, huddled together as much as two people can be without touching, Johnny still makes no attempt to spark conversation even as the chill of an anomalous late-June near-freezing cold soaks into his bones. He keeps his mouth shut even when he begins shivering uncontrollably, not wanting to disturb Simon and whatever contentedness he feels in his silences and steady gazes.

Though, Johnny nearly whines when Simon gets up and takes his warmth with him after muttering something about getting something from the truck.

Then Simon is returning, and something silver and crinkling is being draped over Johnny’s shoulders with a tentative care before Simon is returning to his spot without a word. Johnny pulls the emergency blanket tighter around himself and finally allows himself a glance at Simon, still composed and unreadable as ever.

Johnny dares break the silence with a soft, “Thank you.”

Simon shrugs a shoulder. His eyes are still firmly set ahead, to the space where imaginary customers stand in the pouring rain.

“Don’t imagine Price would appreciate having to fill out a report if you got hypothermia,” Simon says. 

It’s the most words he’s spoken to Johnny in succession, and it comes at a slight shock. Johnny stares, wide-eyed, incidentally boring holes in the side of Simon’s face. He watches Simon’s jaw work, almost like he’s chewing on the regret of opening a line of communication to Johnny.

“I’m sure he’d find a loophole,” Johnny quips.

Simon huffs. Johnny suspects it’s the closest to a laugh he might ever get.

In the lull that follows, Simon hangs his head, picks at a loose thread on his jeans. There’s almost a bashful quality to the action as he asks, “What do you call a bear in the rain?”

Johnny frowns. The first time Simon ever really talks to him, and he’s… setting up punchlines? But even amidst his confusion, Johnny echoes, “What do you call a bear in the rain?”

Simon looks up at Johnny, brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “A drizzly bear,” he replies in a deadpan.

Johnny snorts before bursting into a fuller laugh, fingers curling tightly around the edges of the blanket as he doubles over at the absurdity of… everything. There must be something in the air. In the God-awful weather.

“That’s horrible,” Johnny laughs, “Just terrible.”

“There’s more where that came from,” Simon tells him, sounding vaguely pleased with himself.

“Well, go on, then.” Johnny grins. His stomach cramps with fading laughter. “Give it your best.”

And Simon sure does.

Johnny isn’t too certain what’s shifted between them to cause this, in this short frame of time. But either way, he’s glad for it.

Now he can only pray it holds up for the rest of the summer, let alone their next shift together. This side of Simon is far better than anything Johnny could have hoped for, in his prior endeavours to be amicable.

How he could listen to Simon telling stupid jokes for the rest of time.

Johnny can't wait to learn more about him.

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

do you know anything about the song Locomotive? who was it about? has Axl talked about it at all? i think i heard one time about how he wrote the lyrics “i bought me an illusion and i put it on the wall” and the next day he found the paintings for the Use Your Illusion covers, but i heard that secondhand and i only vaguely remember the story. (i’m so obsessed with that song it’s not even funny because It Is So Me)

Hello!

Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot of information regarding Locomotive, however, I did manage to find some interesting facts to answer your questions.

I was always under the impression Locomotive was about Erin Everly but it turns out that wasn’t the case. The song isn’t about anybody in particular, rather, it’s an ode to toxic and abusive relationships.

In his infamous 1992 Rolling Stone interview, Kim Neely asked Axl, “What about the songs that are perceived as misogynous? A lot of people see songs like Back Off Bitch and Locomotive as a reflection of your current views on women.” To which, he replied:

Yeah, and that's wrong. I can understand that, 'cause the records just came out. But Back Off Bitch is a ten-year-old song. I've been doing a lot of work and found out I've had a lot of hatred for women. Basically, I've been rejected by my mother since I was a baby. She's picked my step-father over me ever since he was around and watched me get beaten by him. She stood back most of the time. Unless it got too bad, and then she'd come and hold you afterward. She wasn't there for me. My grandmother had a problem with men. I've gone back and done the work and found out I overheard my grandma going off on men when I was four. And I've had problems with my own masculinity because of that. I was pissed off at my grandmother for her problem with men and how it made me feel about being a man. So I wrote about my feelings in the songs.

Axl has talked about Locomotive in recent years, mostly about the misconception behind who the writing credits belong to. Slash stated Locomotive was written in a house, rented in the Hollywood Hills, by him and Izzy, following the Appetite for Destruction tours. In 2008, Axl counteracted the statement and explained he was the one who wrote the lyrics.

Doug Goldstein, GNR’s manager, claimed, “Granted, I was with Slash and Duff when they were writing the music for Use Your Illusion, and Locomotive, and Coma - they were doing that shit without Axl's participation. But I'd get these phone calls from the studio, and Axl would say, 'I fucking hate Slash. Have you heard this song Locomotive yet? How the fuck am I supposed to write lyrics to this shit?' I'd go, 'Hey, man, I don't know. That's your gig, right? I do the management. You do the songwriting.’” So, it seems Slash takes credit for the instrumentals and guitar riff while Axl takes credit for the lyrical writing.

You’re right about the painting part, anon, except it was a week later when Axl saw the fresco. He felt that, with the lyrics and the painting, it was an omen to name the album Use Your Illusion. Locomotive was originally intended to be called Use Your Illusion but Axl didn’t want to have a song that bore the same title as the album.

(left) Raphael’s The School of Athens (1509-1511), (right) a section of the artwork that’s used on the Use Your Illusion album covers.

Locomotive is one of my favorite tracks from the second album, alongside Pretty Tied Up, Estranged, You Could Be Mine, Don’t Cry, and Civil War. I especially love the outro - love’s so strange.

[chaosduckies]

Restoration (Chapter 11)

The time has come! This took me about five drafts for me to actually think it was decent so I hope you guys enjoy it! There’s just a whole lot of little scenes I liked to make. It’s a roller coaster of emotions, you’re going to hate me but it gets better! (Please don’t hate me I will not hesitate to cry TwT) Otherwise, enjoy!

Word Count: 12.7k

CW: Death, Vague mentions of suicide, severe trauma, vague gore warning, violence, I think that’s it!

11- Ryker 

It was quiet without Angela and Lucky. Mostly because Dylan and Lucky are almost always the cause of all the loud noises, but sometimes Angela and Isabelle just liked to play around. Now, it was lonely. Of course Nathan always let Angela talk with us on his phone for hours since we can always see Lucky at school, but Angela was being picked up by Nathan for almost a full week. Nathan says she’s been doing fine. She plays some games with his mom and he likes playin hide and seek with her when she’s bored. As for Lucky, Nathan says he’s just been doing his own thing. What he usually does. He also says that he’s on the phone with Dylan all the time too. Not surprising. 

No worries though. They’ll be back before Christmas. There was no way I was letting them miss it. Plus, the riots and stuff have been going down lately. They can finally come home, and I really, really missed them. No matter how many times I’ve had to clean up after them or they’ve given me half a heart attack every time they’re on the edge of somewhere high in the house. They were my siblings, I couldn’t just not care. 

Jasmine helped me take down all of the elevators around the house. The only bad part about that is that we can’t exactly put them back once they’re off, so it’s going to be like this until I can find the time to put some in later. They’ve never had a problem being carried around everywhere anyways. 

I sighed, laying down on my bed and staring at the ceiling. There wasn’t anything to do really. Dylan stayed in his room talking to Lucky while also playing whatever game he had, Jasmine was in the living room playing with Isabelle since no one else could at the moment. Usually Angela kept her busy. 

“Ry!” I heard Jasmine’s voice yell through my door. I groaned. I didn’t feel like getting up. I just laid down not too long ago, can I not get a break? 

“What!” I screamed back. 

“Isabelle says she’s hungry!” 

I placed a hand on my forehead, forcing my body under the covers. I was too tired to do anything, but I’m pretty sure we have some leftovers from last night she could eat. Jasmine and Dylan can make themselves something. I just wanted to get some sleep at this point. 

“There’s leftovers in the fridge!” 

I heard the fridge door open and close, then the microwave starting all the way from my room. I finally relaxed, the pillow cold under my head and my lights off with the blinds closed, blocking out any evening sun that threatened to creep inside my room. Perfect time to go to sleep. the best part about it was that I didn’t have school in the morning either. I was so physically and mentally exhausted I could just pass out. And I did. 

—————— 

When I woke up, it was to the smell of burnt pancake batter, making me scrunch up my nose and hurry to the kitchen, where Jasmine was currently throwing out her entire plate of pancakes that were beyond burnt. I laughed, watching her hurry to turn off the stove that was surprisingly not on fire. Jasmine just glared at me, leaning agianst the counter in defeat. I walked up next to her, smirking the entire time, “You just lost to pancake batter.” 

She playfully punched me in the shoulder, laughing along with me. I looked back at the box she had used, seeing that there was still enough for the four of us. I sighed, grabbing another bowl and placing the old one into the sink. Might as well make the rest if they really wanted pancakes. 

“Why’d you try cooking? You hate being anywhere near a stove.” I asked, mixing together the powder with milk. 

“You were asleep.” Her voice slightly a higher pitch. I looked back at her for a second, watching as she tapped her hand on the counter. 

“What else?” I grabbed a new pan that didn’t have burnt remains of pancakes and turned on the stove. Dylan knew how to cook a little bit. Jasmine would have woken him up to help her. So why didn’t she? 

“Nothing. Isabelle and I woke up about an hour ago and she just told me she was hungry.” Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. I poured some of the newly made batter into a pan and let it sit there for a couple seconds. She wasn’t going to tell me. At least not anytime soon. Better to just accept her answers now before she gets mad. 

I stayed silent until Dylan walked into the room, immediately sitting down on top of the counter and yawning. He scrunched up his nose, the faint smell of smoke in the air, “What did Jasmine burn this time?” He joked, earning a punch to the shoulder that actually looked like it hurt. 

Everyone grabbed their plates, and we all watched a cartoon in the living room. It just felt quiet without Dylan and Lucky constantly messing around with each other or Isabelle and Angela playing with their stuffed animals. I knew we all missed them. Just two more days. Two more days and they’ll be back with us. Everything was going to go back to normal. I’d really have to thank Nathan and his mom for helping us out so much. I smiled at the thought. 

———Nathan———

Despite there being two more people in the house, is was actually relatively quiet. Which was surprising given that Ryker’s house was usually filled with a huge commotion. Maybe it was because they were away from each other? I really did feel bad. I mean, they all seemed really close to one another. Plus after Ryker told me what happened to their parents… It must be hard. I couldn’t think about leaving my mom for any reason, so it must be so much worse when it’s your own siblings. 

They were going back this Sunday. Things have gone down and it’s nearly Christmas so I didn’t want them to miss that. Lucky was taking a nap on the couch while Angela was busy with a coloring book my mom had bought her the other day. She was currently coloring a picture of a parrot, and for a four year old she was surprisingly good at coloring. My mom was cooking dinner. I offered to do it instead but she just argued that she hasn’t cooked for me in a while. I just left it at that. 

So now I was laying down on the couch. School was out for winter break finally. Which meant only five more months until I would be left alone again. Just my mom and I. I didn’t plan on going to college, maybe just a part time job. After what happened so many years ago I’ve been afraid to live on my own. But let’s not think about that right now. 

What I was worried about was what if Ryker didn’t like the present I would be giving him. The concert tickets of course. They didn’t really cost much. Like a seventy dollars for two tickets? Not bad. I had bought everyone else’s gifts except for Dylan’s. I knew he liked sports and all that, but I couldn’t get him something like that. I had zero idea and I really needed to ask Lucky what to get him, because I’m pretty sure Lucky had bought something for him before he came here. I’d just have to ask. Not now though. 

I know Ryker loves reading, drawing, cooking. What else? Lucky mentioned something about sweets? Like cookies and all that? How would I even do that? I can’t just bake something fifty times my size. I had thought about buying something like a cake but how would I even get it to him? I mean… I could ask for help. Maybe from Jasmine? Nope. Get that thought out of my mind. She hates my guts. Dylan then? That would mean I’d have to ask him for a favor, and I didn’t really want to. But how else would I give Ryker a good gift? 

I guess that’s what I would do. But instead of buying one I’d ask Dylan to make it using my recipe. Would he though? I mean he seems like a nice guy. I guess the real question would be if I could be alone with him for about two hours. Or if could handle it at least. I’ve really only been around Ryker. 

——————

After we ate dinner, it was around 7 but Angela already looked exhausted. My mom set her to sleep in the guest room before leaving for work. I didn’t get why she always overworked herself. I knew she was tired too, but yet she stays awake almost all day to take care of us, and then leaves for work at night. When it was just me here as soon as she came back she’d give me a hug, take a shower, and then head to bed until it was later in the evening. I guess having more people in the house is making her think she has to stay up. I can take care of everyone. I didn’t mind playing around with Angela, I didn’t mind joking Lucky in a game, or going outside with everyone. I also didn’t mind cooking for more than just two people. So I didn’t exactly know why she stayed awake when she was so tired. 

“I can’t wait to head back home alreadyyyy.” Lucky groaned, the tv playing quietly in the background. He was on his phone while l sat reading a book as usual.  

“Sorry.” I mumbled, closing my book and turning my head to face the tv that was currently playing a movie about some cops trying to catch a serial killer or something like that. I wasn’t paying attention. 

Lucky stayed quiet for a while before facing me, “Sorry for what?” 

“That you have to stay here.” I answered. 

“It’s not even your fault. Plus, it’s not even bad here. I just miss being with my family, y’know?” Lucky explained, now facing the ceiling with his arms under his head. I nodded my head. I didn’t exactly know how he felt about this whole situation. I’m sure he realizes why he even has to be here. Because some people just don’t like humans. 

I opened my book again, trying to get at least halfway done with it before I fall asleep. At least that was my goal. Honestly I was extremely tired for no reason. I go to bed relatively early, and since I don’t have school anymore I’ve been waking up at around nine in the morning everyday. I didn’t know why I felt so exhausted. I wasn’t too worried though. I feel fine in the morning so it’s fine. 

“Can I ask you a question, Nathan?” Lucky asked, still staring at the ceiling. 

“Sure?” It came out more as a question. 

“Do you like Ryker?” 

My eyes widened. What kind of a question was that? “Yeah. He’s a nice friend. Why wouldn’t I?” Lucky started laughing, sitting up and now looking right at me, “I meant like, like him. Y’know, like a couple?” 

I felt my cheeks immediately heat up at the realization. Lucky started laughing so hard he was choking while I buried my face in my hands. This was embarrassing. I tried getting rid of the red blush that just seemed to be painted on me at this point. I groaned as Lucky caught his breath, still waiting on an answer, though I’m sure he’s already assume one. 

I’ve never really thought about it. I mean I do like him as a friend. He’s done nothing but help me ever since I’ve met him. I really do like being with him too. But do I really like him? I could just be mistaking it for liking him as a friend. That was probably it really. I don’t think I do. Nope. Plus, what makes anyone think that Ryker would like me back? It just didn’t make any sense. was he even into boys? Was I even into anyone? I’ve always thought that no one would want to be around me pretty much my whole life. I don’t know anymore at this point. Why were we even on the topic? 

“N-no. We’re just friends.” The blush on my face was still painted across my cheeks. Lucky just rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say.” 

I grabbed my book that I had lightly thrown on the cushion next to me and hid my bright red face in it. Just forget about it. Why would he ask that question anyways? It so random to ask. I was so unprepared too. There was no way I could just forget about this. 

———Ryker———

The cold air outside felt great. A thin layer of snow now covered the entire city from last nights little shower, and it just felt great to be outside. Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it. Today also happened to be the day that Lucky and Angela would be coming home with us, which we were all excited about. 

Jasmine had work today, and of course she was angry. It actually took me a while to clam her down so she wouldn’t be late for work. So now it was just Dylan and Isabelle with me as we headed to the bus stop to go and get them. I guess this counts as a family reunion? I mean, we haven’t really seen each other for nearly a week. It may not seem that long, but when all you have are your siblings, it’s not easy to let go of them. Let alone be apart from them for this amount of time. 

Nathan had already texted me that they were already waiting. Apparently his mom wanted to say goodbye to Angela because she grew attached to her. I wasn’t very surprised. They must be freezing though. I know this kind of weather is kind of amplified for humans too. My mind went back to that night that seemed like forever ago. When Nathan had just snuggled up as close as he wanted to me for warmth. My heart fell, and a small smile appeared on my face as we walked along the sidewalk. 

When we arrived at the bus stop, Lucky had practically ran as fast as he could to Dylan’s hand. Isabelle stayed in the back, smiling. I had told her before we had left to keep her distance from these two. Mainly because I had noticed how alert Nathan was when Isabelle was around. But that’s not something I should worry about now. 

I crouched down, watching a small four-year old girl stumble over the snow to get to me. I let down a finger for her to hang on to while I talked to Nathan and his mom, but I couldn’t help but notice how the woman standing next to Nathan flinched as soon as Angela had hugged my finger. Did she think I’d hurt my own sister? That-that can’t be it, right? 

“Thank you both so much. I don’t know what I would do if you hadn’t helped.” I slightly smiled, they smile back, “Oh you’re welcome! If you need help you can send them our way anytime!” His mother offered. She was the complete opposite of Nathan. She didn’t seem sheepish around me at all. So then why was Nathan so afraid? The thought snuck into the back of my mind, but I just pushed it aside. 

“Ready Angel?” I asked, waiting for her to nod her head, but instead she rushed over to Nathan’s mom, gave her a hug then hurried back. I chuckled, tilting my hand slightly for her to climb on herself. I turned to Nathan, who waved a little before quickly stuffing his hands into the pockets and scrunching up his jacket. Just as I called it, he was freezing. Maybe he wants to come with us for a little? I have to take them shopping since there was only a couple days until Christmas, and Dylan and Lucky still needed to find gifts. 

“Wanna come with us, Nathan? We’re just going shopping then heading back to my house.” I asked. He looked shocked before turning to his mom who nodded and whispered something to him. Nathan nodded his head with a smile on his face. I let my hand down again, watching him lift himself up on the first try, but still trip over thin air and fall. I would help him, but judging by the way he reacted a week ago when I was just trying to check up on him, I don’t think I really want to freak him out even more. 

I thanked his mom again for helping, and we left. Dylan and Lucky were catching up while we made our way to the small store where we usually go to. I handed Angela to Isabelle. She knew what to do and what not to do. I couldn’t imagine Isabelle ever hurting anyone or anything so it was fine. 

Behind me, Lucky and Dylan were laughing about something, and it made me kind of curious, but I didn’t want to bother them. Even if they spent hours talking on the phone and as much time together in school as they could, they still acted like they haven’t seen each other for years. That’s what happens when you let them share a room when they were younger. It wasn’t a bad thing though. Not at all. 

It wasn’t too early. Maybe about midday so it was a little warmer, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about the little ice cube in my palm that was shivering. Was he just sensitive to the cold? It would make sense. Not even Angela was, but then again she was wearing a thicker jacket. I slightly cupped my hand a little more, watching him adjust his position and bundle up a little more. My heart fell, I wish I could help more, but I was scared that he’d freak out again if I did anything more. The last thing I wanted was for him to be uncomfortable. 

“We’re almost there. You okay?” I asked worriedly, passing by some people on the sidewalk that seemed to be coming back from shopping themselves. A lot of them were carrying bags and wrapping paper. So people had the same idea as us.  

Nathan nodded his head, a slight smile on his face. Just a two more blocks. I looked back, seeing that Dylan was holding one of Isabelle’s hands and smirking right at me. Lucky was on his shoulder, and I’m guessing he was doing the exact same thing. I raised an eyebrow, making them both laugh. I rolled my eyes, turning to the huge parking lot coming into view. Surprisingly enough, there weren’t many cars. I guess it was a good thing we came relatively early. 

As soon as I entered the store, I was hit with warm air, slightly making it hard to breath for the split second I was under the heater. I stared down at Nathan, who looked relieved, but he still felt like an ice cube in my hand. Just give him some time. He looked like he was doing better already. A small smile involuntarily formed on my face. 

“Sooo it’s only Lucky and I picking out gifts today?” Dylan walked beside me. 

“Well yeah. If Isabelle and Angela want to get some things too.” I shrugged my shoulders, walking over to the sitting area where the small deli stand was. There weren’t too many people here, and I was just kind of here to make sure everything would be okay. I needed to get gifts too, but I just need to go pick them up when the order is done.  

“Alright. We won’t be long.” Dylan grabbed Isabelle’s hand again, asking her and Angela if they wanted to go pick out gifts for everyone. I laughed when they both cheered. Meanwhile, I let Nathan down on the table. It took him a while to catch his balance, but he just sat back down on the table instead of the human-sized table on top. It’s not like I minded though. We’ve shared a desk together since the start of school anyways. 

“Feeling better?” I asked, holding my head up with one of my hands. 

“Y-yeah,” He stuttered, playing with his hands, “Why’d you w-want me to come a-anyways?” 

I shrugged my shoulders, “Why not? You could have said no if you didn’t want to come.” 

He thought about his response for a bit, “Thank you.”  

I was a bit surprised. Why was he thanking me? What did I do for him? Get him out of the house? I was about to ask what for, but I wasn’t going to. He probably has his reasons. Whatever’s going on in his mind I guess. But I could say I was grateful that he said yes. I would have probably just been on my phone while waiting for Lucky and Dylan to pick out gifts. It gets boring. 

Crowds of people were leaving and some were entering. Every time someone had passed by us I couldn’t help but notice Nathan inch closer to me. Right. It’s been a while since we’ve really hung out I forgot he doesn’t really do well when other people are near him for whatever reason. I used my free hand to hide him from everyone’s sights. Maybe he’s just reticent. It wouldn’t be shocking. No offense! 

“Um, what are you doing for Christmas?” I tried taking his mind off of whatever was going on in there. He slightly flinched, then shook his head like I had just brought him back to reality, “Ah, um, reading? We… We don’t r-really do Christmas. Just hand each other gifts and th-that’s it.” He smiled like that’s normal. Then again, as far as I know it was only him and his mom. Still, it must be pretty sad that the doesn’t really celebrate. 

“That’s it?” I looked at him sadly as he nodded his head. Usually we just kind of decorate together, which was why I hadn’t even set up the tree yet, but then Dylan and I make dinner, and we just open gifts. It’s not like this big thing though. It used to be when my parents were still here. 

“If you want to you can celebrate with us. You don’t need to get us gifts or anything either.” I offered, making him laugh. A confused look was plastered on my face before he explained, “I kinda… already have g-gifts for you all.” 

I blinked a few times. That I was not expecting. When? Why? Why did he get us all gifts? He didn’t have to. Now I kind of feel bad that he actually spent money on us. Did he get one for everyone? I think he did. 

“Huh? W-why?” I was at a loss for words. Of course I bought him something, and I really hoped he liked it, but now I have to worry if it’ll be equal to whatever he bought for me. My initial plan was to surprise him with it, but apparently he had the same idea. I just hoped that it wasn’t anything crazy expensive because then I’d really feel bad. 

“You’ve all b-been really nice to m-me,” He started, “Oh yeah! I still d-don’t have anything for Dylan. D-do you mind helping me?” 

“I mean, yeah of course, b-but how did you even…?” I was confused. How did he get presents if he’s… vertically challenged. Our size difference limits us a lot so how did he even buy gifts if they’d be fifty times bigger than himself? Even we struggle with that which explains why we all go Christmas shopping at different times with Lucky since Angela can’t walk into a human-sized store by herself. 

“I haven’t b-bough them yet. I actually need y-your help with that too.” He laughed nervously. Now that makes more sense. I just nodded, smiling. Nathan was too good of a friend for me. I wasn’t expecting anything honestly. I would definitely give him a hug if I didn’t think he’d be afraid. 

——————

I gave Nathan a list of everything Dylan was into, even the embarrassing stuff that only his family knows about, but I trust Nathan not to tell anyone. Eventually he found something and sent it to me to make sure. It was a poster of one of his favorite actors, signed and everything apparently. Dylan absolutely loves watching movies. Even the old ones made thirty years before he was even born. I don’t know where Nathan found that at, but oh my gosh if all the gifts are like that I am going to feel so bad that mine won’t even be comparable to his. 

Right on time, Dylan and all of them came back with bags in their hands. We all left and walked back to our house. Like I said, today was a good day. 

———Nathan———

Today really was a good day. I have no idea why I had thought that hits morning, but obviously it wasn’t lying to me. It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with Ryker, so of course I said yes to his invitation. Before I left my mom just whispered for me to go, like she was going out to do something as well. I knew she took off work today as well so obviously something was happening there. But I completely forgot about it while I was at Ryker’s house. 

It was already getting late. The sun just barely peaking out over the horizon. There was a light snow outside, covering the already frosted ground outside. It was nice and warm inside, with the heater on and slightly blowing right on me. I was snuggled up near the windowsill in the living room, blanket on top of me and staring outside watching the sun go down. Ryker was helping his siblings wrap gifts, so it was just me for now. It was surprisingly quiet except for the faint crinkling of wrapping paper. 

The front door opened wide, letting in cold air that slightly stung my face. I peaked my head around the wall that obstructed my view, seeing a girl with long, curly black hair with a few dark purple streaks walk into the house, carrying a two bags and a uniform that looked like it belonged to a gas station. I guess Jasmine was working or something? Either way, I pressed myself up father into the corner, trying not to be seen by her. She scares me. Even if Lucky said she’s a lot nicer than she’s been to me, I don’t exactly think she’ll ever like me. 

“Ry! I’m home!” She screamed from across the house. I stayed under the blanket, staying hidden. I have a feeling the second she sees me she’ll start asking questions or threaten me. Luckily, she didn’t see me, and instead headed off to her room, soon followed by the sound of the shower starting. 

Ryker walked back into the room, grabbing something off from a table and leaving again. Then everyone had started bringing in the now wrapped presents and placing them on the on the floor. Ryker came back with a box and set it down beside the couch. I forced myself to crawl a bit closer to see what they were doing. Setting up a Christmas tree. I’m guessing they had the ornaments in the box too. 

“Alright, you guys go crazy.” Ryker laughed, opening up the box and walking to the couch by the windowsill I was currently sitting down at. He sat down, sighing and turned to check on me. I flashed a smile, earning one back. 

I watched as Dylan set up the tree for everyone while Isabelle quickly grabbed some white streamers and draped all over the tree messily. My attention was turned to the still form on the couch next to me. Ryker’s chest slowly fell and rose, his eyes closed and covered up in the blanket. He looked comfortable… 

Was he asleep? Probably. I would too if I had to keep up with this many people. Was it hard? Well no duh, Nathan. He always looks tired when he’s at school. Should I leave now then? I didn’t want to wake him up when I had to go. I would feel terrible. Actually, now would be a great time to ask Dylan about getting Ryker an extra gift in case he won’t like the one I have for him. The only problem is mustering up the courage to even talk to him. Alone. I think it’d be fine though. It’s only for a little bit until I can eventually make this. 

It took them around twenty minutes to place all of their ornaments on the tree, but they did. None of them dared to wake up Ryker after they were done either. Jasmine walked into the room, dressed up in white sweatpants and a sweater. She walked up to Ryker, rolling her eyes with a smile on her face before she noticed me. Her smile disappeared as she glared at me. I sank back, burying myself in the blanket. What did I do to her? 

She averted her attention to the tree, smiling and talking with both Isabelle and Angela. Thanking them for helping with the tree and then continued to play around with Angela in her hands. No wonder she threatened me so much when she had to watch Angela leave. Jasmine was really attached to her. Kind of like my mom. 

“Boo!” I physically jumped, my heart racing from the scare. I looked behind me, seeing Lucky laughing, nearly choking. Dylan was also laughing, but I just smiled. Where did he even come from? 

“Oh my gosh you should have seen your face!” Dylan let out a hand for me to help me get on my feet. It took me a while to balance myself from sitting down for so long, but I managed. 

“You want to get out of here for a bit?” Lucky asked just as soon as Dylan offered an open palm. I stared at it, wide-eyed. I really only trust Ryker to hold me, but I guess this won’t be so bad. 

“Sure.” Lucky grabbed my wrist as we walked on, and for the first time in my life I didn’t trip and fall on my face embarrassingly. Okay, so I had help this time but one day I’ll be able to do it on my own. Hopefully. Or maybe I won’t even have to. 

Dylan took us to his room, where there were tons of posters of games and a little tv stand with a shelf full of some books that he probably needed for school and some games along with VHS tapes. I was honestly really surprised by the place. I don’t know why expected there to be sporty things like weights and basketballs. Y’know. What athletes have. 

There was a bedside dresser with a few human-sized things on it which I was guessing was Lucky’s temporary room. I was guessing these two just shared a room since his other room wasn’t at all filled with things. Just a few clothes and a dresser. I’m guessing everything else was here. 

Lucky and I were set down on the dresser while Dylan sat down on his bed. Lucky gave me a short tour of his own little room before letting me sit down on his bed while he sat in a chair. It was quiet for a second before Jasmine’s voice screamed from the other room, “Lucky!” 

He groaned in response while Dylan snickered, letting lucky onto the floor. It was just the two of us now. I waited until I saw Lucky leave before trying my hardest to calm down before I had a actually tried to talk to Dylan by myself. I could when there were people around. What’s so different this time? I had no one to save me if I said the wrong thing. 

“Oh hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you what you got Ryker for Christmas. Lucky told me you had something good.” Dylan spoke first, a grin on his face. Well I already told Lucky, so if I don’t tell Dylan he’ll just end up telling him. There was no point in hiding it. 

“C-concert tickets.” I answered, hoping he could hear. I was guessing he did by the reaction. His eyes went wide and his jaw slightly opened wide in shock. 

“That one band he’s absolutely crazy for?” 

I nodded my head. Not the way I would word it. I actually kind of find it funny how much Ryker loves that band. I forgot the name, but he’ll remind me when I show him the tickets. 

“Oh my gosh he’s gonna to go crazy.” Dylan laughed. Does that mean he’ll like it? If that’s so then I don’t need to ask for help. This makes my life so much easier. I’m so glad I don’t have to ask for any favors. It’s not exactly a grate first impression to immediately ask for something. I let out a sigh of relief.

——————

I didn’t leave the house until about an hour after Ryker woke up. It was close to midnight, but it’s not like I’m some little kid who has a bed time. Heck, we don’t even have school tomorrow so it really didn’t matter. 

When I arrived home, my mom was asleep on the couch, the tv playing The Golden Girls per usual and the blanket halfway on the ground. I smiled to myself, pulling the blanket over her and turning up the heater. She was freezing. I headed to my room, grabbed a pair of clothes, took an extremely hot shower, and buried myself under the blankets. Things were going great. Maybe life really didn’t hate me all that much. 

———Ryker———

It was Christmas Day. The day everyone was waiting for. Especially Angela and Isabelle who woke me up at six in the morning to wish everyone in the house a merry Christmas. I admit, I was just the slightest bit annoyed, but that was because I went to bed late at night cleaning up and setting up gifts. I also had to take out some food to defrost for later. 

This morning was a huge mess. Even if we weren’t really doing anything until later, I still had to go pick up a few things before. The day before I helped Nathan with the gifts he had bought, which by the way he ordered online (I don’t know how I didn’t think about this sooner) I wrapped the one’s I could while he wrapped the other two that belonged to Lucky and Angela. I was honestly surprised at how thoughtful he was. He even bought one for Jasmine and I know for a fact that Jasmine would absolutely love it. Although she doesn’t like to admit it, she absolutely loves stuffed animals. I just don’t know how he even knew. Was he just guessing? Then I also noticed that he was hiding mine from me. I wondered what it could be, but I would find out later today. 

I also had to go pick him up today, but that wasn’t my priority right now. I planned on going early in the morning, but the snow was coming down pretty heavy so I had to wait. I wouldn’t have minded heading out there, it’s just I didn’t want to get sick. I rarely do, but when it does happen, it’s terrible. So now it was almost four in the afternoon, only about two hours before all the stores started closing. Just barely making it in time to go pick up the cake Jasmine had ordered. Why she didn’t get it herself? I had zero idea. I would have made her get it if she hadn’t been half asleep. 

Once in the store, the sweet smell of strawberry and chocolate filled my nose. Curse my sweet tooth. Where did she even find this place at? It was like in the middle of nowhere, yet it looked so nice inside and smelled delicious. A woman walked up to the counter, her apron dressed in icing and batter. 

“Hi! Did you have an order?” She smiled, ready to tap away at the screen in front of her. 

“Oh, um, I think it’s under the name Jasmine?” I replied, not being able to take my eyes off of the amazing looking cookies that were displayed. 

“Yup! Let me just go get the box.” She left the room. Jasmine purposely made me come get this. She was doing something at home, and she thought she could distract me. Damn it it’s working. 

The woman came back with a white box and typed something in the computer before l grabbed the box, and I guess she saw me looking at the displays because she just laughed, “I’ll give you a small box for free. How’s that sound?” 

“Yes please.” I almost immediately replied, laughing along with her. I swear if Jasmine makes fun of me for this when I get home… I was handed another small box while I thanked the lady and left. 

When I walked in the house, Jasmine was waiting right at the front door, a huge smirk on her face. I glared at her. 

“Why the extra box?” She could barely hold in her snicker. I rolled my eyes, “Shut up. You’re not getting any.” I stuck my tongue out immaturely, while she tried reaching for the extra box I was holding just above my head. She gave up about two minutes later, snatching the cake from my hands and muttering something as she made her way to the kitchen. 

I looked at the time, reading six thirty already. Now would be a good time to go quickly pick up Nathan. I gave him a quick text, placed the box of cookies in my room, and went back out. 

——————

It only took me about half an hour to walk over there and back. Everyone knew Nathan was coming, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited. I mean, he’s never had a real Christmas according to him, so I’m glad I can at least give him the opportunity. Even if we aren’t family or anything, I think it’s a nice change of things. Plus, afterwards the younger ones go to bed while the rest of us stay up a little longer and go to our separate rooms. Really I was the only one alone because Jasmine falls asleep almost immediately. Nathan was actually staying the night, and not in the human accommodating house. I didn’t want him to be alone so I had offered to make a little space for him in my room. He agreed. 

So now we were at the house, Nathan sitting down in my room away from the chaos happening. I was cooking, Dylan clearing the middle of the living room for later, Jasmine keeping the little ones busy, Lucky was taking a shower. Things were going great surprisingly enough. This was only the second time time we’ve celebrated without our parents, so I was expecting something to happen, but everyone seemed happy. The first time was hard for us, and we barely even wanted to celebrate, but it’s what our parents would have wanted, so we kept on going. 

The food was relatively done, I just needed to go get some plates and get everyone in here. I went to my room, finding Nathan sitting on the makeshift bed I made out of some soft cloth I cut off of one my hoodies. What? I don’t used that one anymore. I would have been more than happy to let him on my bed and I sleep on the floor (I’m sure he was terrified just as much as I was about what could happen if we slept on the same bed) but I figured he’d feel bad, so I tried to make it as comfy as possible. 

“Sorry for just leaving you here. I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with the chaos happening in the other room.” I explained, offering a hand. He shook his head, stepping on and falling forward yet again. He’ll get it at some point. Hopefully. 

“It’s fine.” He replied, groaning as he sat back up. 

Lucky was already making the three of them a plate. I don’t really know where he learned how to do it, but he just did. I wasn’t complaining. It was less work for me anyways. As soon as everyone had their plate, we ate around the coffee table, laughing and sometimes messing around with one another. Jasmine had brought up the cookies again before I lightly slapped her shoulder. 

Once we all finished eating, it was time for presents, which I handed out to everyone. Nathan told me to let everyone know to open the present he gave them last just so he knows how much they would all really like it. I just went along with it, so now everyone was kind of excited. I opened mine, getting one of the hoodies I had shown Jasmine just a few days ago. From Dylan a pair of new headphones since my old ones broke sadly. Lucky bought me some new markers since my old ones were dry. Isabelle and Angela combined their gifts and gave me a little picture frame of both of them (My heart was melting) that I would definitely be placing on the tv stand later. 

It was weird for me since I didn’t have a physical gift from Nathan, and I didn’t really know how to react to that. Just what did he get me? I was so confused, but I waited patiently. I’m sure I’d love whatever it is either way. 

Everyone was done opening their gifts, only left with one. Nathan jumped when all the attention was on him, visibly trembling. I stepped in for him. “Jasmine should go first.” I grinned. She rolled her eyes, grabbing the box I had stuffed the gift in. 

“Like this is gonna be good…” She mumbled. I elbowed her side while Nathan looked down a little sadly. Just wait… 

As soon as she had opened it, her jaw nearly dropped. She glared at me for a split second before turning back to the adorable looking teddy bear. She hates admitting it, but she loves those kinds of things. 

“Okay, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” She smiled at him for the first time ever. 

“My turn!” Isabelle and Angela both opened theirs at the same time, revealing a matching set of clothes. I had to cover my ears from the high pitched squeals. Nathan laughed, covering his ears too. 

Lucky opened his, a game that he’s been wanting for forever. He hugged Nathan, he flinched at the contact, but either way hugged him lightly back. Dylan followed, confused at what his could be before he opened it up all the way and stuttered, struggling to find what to say. 

“H-how did you…” He looked over the me, but I just shrugged and smirked. 

“You are literally the best.” Dylan laughed, folding the paper back up. 

We all laughed, including Nathan who was walking closer to me, waiting on the edge. Was he waiting for something? Oh! I let me hand out, seeing him use my thumb to help him balance so he didn’t embarrass himself in front of everyone. I brought him closer, confused the entire time as he pulled out his phone, and seconds later my own phone going off. He pointed at his as I hurried to pull mine out, and nearly dropped my phone when I saw the pictures he sent. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I felt my face heat up slightly, watching him shake his head and laugh a bit. I did a double take before covering my mouth with my free hand. 

“Told you he’d love it!” Dylan smiled. 

I absolutely do yes. 

“I-I, um, wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” 

“Are you kidding? This is literally the best thing you could have ever given me.” I laughed, trying my hardest to hide the blush on my face, but it was too late because everyone was laughing except for Angela and Isabelle. Including me. Oh my gosh this was so much better than my gift to him. How was I even going to compare to his? 

I looked to Lucky, who nodded his head and grabbed it really quickly before I even let Nathan back onto the table. Lucky handed it to him and pointed at me. Nathan started opening it, stopping halfway as he tried to figure out what it was. It wasn’t anything too special. Just a picture frame of the two of us. A picture we had taken a long time ago when we had to share classes. The same day that we hung out together for the first time. 

“It’s not anything special. I’m not the best at picking gifts, but I hope you like it.” 

I was surprised when he hugged it close to his chest and looked like he was about to cry. 

“Awww.” Lucky joked around. I couldn’t help but notice the slight blush on his cheeks. He loved it. 

We cleaned up, had the younger kids go to sleep and Jasmine. Dylan and Lucky were in their room watching a movie, while my door was closed along with my curtains. The only light was coming from the dim lamp I had on my desk. I let Nathan down on the nightstand. We were both changed into something more comfortable. So now it was just the two of us. 

“I can’t believe you bought me tickets.” I exasperated, still in shock. 

“Well yeah. You’re really nice to me, help me out a whole lot.” 

I turned to face him, a slight smile on my face, “Really? I feel like you’re the one always helping me.” He nodded his head. It went silent for a bit before I decided to break it, “Are you tired?” Honestly, I was exhausted, but I was willing to keep Nathan company until he fell asleep. 

“Mmm… yeah.” He replied, already under a blanket. I chuckled lightly, gettin under my own, “Good night then.” 

“Good night, Ryker.” I heard him reply. I’ve rarely heard him say my name before, and I don’t know why my face started heating up. 

Four days later.

———Nathan———

Everything was going so great. The Christmas party at Ryker’s was amazing. Even the few days before that it was great just the be with everyone. My mom was happy, I was happy. Life was finally turning around for me. For the first time in years I finally felt like I could actually have a normal life. I had friends, I was going to graduate in five months. Everything was looking all up for me. 

So why did it get flipped back around? 

My mom and I were just going to go buy fireworks. Just the small ones. Nothing too huge. That’s all we wanted. This was really the only thing we truly celebrated together since it marked the start of the a new year. It marked that we could restart our lives over again. We loved watching the many colors paint the sky. That’s all we wanted. And we couldn’t have it. 

We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time I guess? Because everyone just acted like nothing had happened. That everything was going to be fine and okay. But it wasn’t. Nothing was “fine and okay.” I had really thought that maybe my life was finally turning around for the better just like my mom’s had, but no. I can never have anything nice just once. Just once I wanted something nice. And I couldn’t have it. Just like the fireworks we couldn’t have. 

The store we were shopping at was relatively empty. Only a few people here and there. The only thing about it was that it was really close to the giant part of the city. That was all we were wary about. But we brushed it off. After all, we would only be there for about an hour then head back home. 

“Ooo these look nice, right?” My mom picked up a tiny pack. I smiled, holding out the basket I was holding and let her place it in along with the two other tiny packs we had. We had continued looking, not at all aware of the large tremors that only grew more and more. And neither did the other people in the store. We all had just thought it was some unaware giant walking across the street. If only that were true. 

The next thing we know, there’s screaming outside, we heard people fighting, we were rushed outside so we didn't get hurt, but we shouldn’t have ran outside. Two giants were fighting right in the open. Brutally at that. One had a very muscular build while the other was built, but not as muscular as the guy on top of him, laying punches in the face. People tried to break up the fight, but it only grew worse, and soon enough, the giants decided to bring humans into it. The one that was being pouched in the face continuously had tried to reach practically anything he could, and that just so happened to be a human-sized tree from a nearby park. Right where my mom was standing dialing 911. 

I mean, what are the chances of that? It seemed like a made up lie, but it wasn’t. Trust me, I’ve tried my hardest to convince myself that it wasn’t real, that there was no way my mom would just be standing there and it just so happens that the giant would try reaching for the tree right next to her. Hah! It was ridiculous, right? I only wished I wasn’t telling the truth. 

I stood in fear as I heard her scream at the top of her lungs while in the giant’s fist which was also holding the huge tree that looked minuscule in his hand. I couldn’t move. My mom was there. Getting hurt. And all I could do was stand and watch. 

Eventually help did come, all the other humans had gone away except for the few that actually cared about what happened with my mom. I knew I was, because as soon as the paramedics came to see how she was doing, I nearly started sobbing in front of so many people. I’ve seen her like this before. She’ll be okay. Just let her heal for a few weeks and she can come back home. Right? I wish that were true. I wish that we hadn’t even decided to go to that stupid store. I wished that she was standing right next to me. But she wasn’t. And now everything I’ve worked so hard to build up here in this city is just taken away. 

I stayed at the hospital, right next to my mom’s limp and weak body. The doctors were trying their hardest to keep her from… you can probably guess. Five broken ribs, a broken leg, and internal bleeding. I’m also pretty sure the doctor’s were hiding something from me, but I don’t know. She couldn’t breath well, and she winces every time she tries to move. Every time she wakes up she tells me to go home and get some rest. I tell her that I wasn’t leaving until she would be able to come home with me. 

Today was no different. She would wake up, struggle to sit up, and eat her breakfast while I stayed sitting on the little bench. The doctor’s let me stay the night. I guess they felt bad or something? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t leaving her here. My phone would go off at least two times a day. It was always Ryker. I’m guessing he had heard what had happened, but I really didn’t feel like talking. Not now when this was when my mom needed me most. 

“You should…. Eat…. Hon.” She had to take a few breaths between each word, which worried me, but the doctor’s would help with that. I believed it. 

“I’m okay mom. Don’t worry about me.” My voice was light and tired. I didn’t feel hungry, but I knew my body was. I hadn’t eaten since the day she came here which was about three days ago. School starts tomorrow, but they called and said I didn’t have to come back until two weeks.  

I refused to cry over this. If I did, then it would show that I’d given up. Mom always hated to see me cry. So I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to anyways since she would be coming back home with me. 

My phone started going off again. Everyday at exactly nine and six Ryker would call, and I would let it ring until he was sent to voicemail. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t want to do anything but stay here with my mom and make sure she gets better. If she doesn’t then I don’t know what I would do. 

“Maybe… you should… talk to him.” She wheezed. I shook my head, “I don’t feel like talking to anyone.” 

“He’s worried, Nate. Just… promise me… you’ll talk to him?” I thought about it for a second before nodding my head. I was already hanging onto a promise her and I made all those years ago. 

——————

“Mom!” 

“Yes, Nate?” 

“Do you promise to stay with me for forever?” I hung onto the hem of her tattered dress. 

“Of course.” She smiled down at me.

——————

She had to keep that promise. She’s all I have left. Dad was already gone… I didn’t want to lose her too. 

“Honey, go get some breakfast. For me, please?” She had begged, and I just couldn’t say no. I walked over to the door, and told I would be back. 

———Ryker———

What happened three days ago was heartbreaking. At first I didn’t believe it. That’s a really big stretch, but it happened. How do I know? Because I’ve been calling and calling Nathan, and he doesn’t answer. It’s almost like he doesn’t wan tot talk, but then again I did the same with my own siblings after our parents passed away. I pushed them away and locked myself in my room. That’s what was happening with Nathan. 

I had heard his mom was in the hospital, still healing, and I really do hope that she would be okay. Her and Nathan. It’s going to break Nathan if she… y’know. 

Everyday I call him twice, he never answered. I understood why. I couldn’t be mad at him. The same thing happened to me. I pushed everyone away, and I only pulled myself together when I realized that they were also hurting. They helped me out like they did each other and now look at us. Back to some-what normal. Not to mention that they didn’t know how to cook or clean. 

I groaned, leaning back in my desk chair while looking at my phone. I felt terrible. All I wanted to do was to try and help him out as much as I could. I would give him anything he needed. I know how bad it gets, and I would hate to see him like that. 

My phone was going off, and I was surprised to see that Nathan was actually calling me back. I quickly picked up my phone and clicked the green phone button. 

“Oh my gosh Nathan! Are you okay? I-I heard what happened and-“ 

“This is Ryker, right?” It was a raspy woman’s voice. His mom.

“Oh, y-yes ma’am.” My hands were shaking, my heart racing. I don’t know why. 

“I-I’m sorry to ask… you of this but… can you do something… for me?” I covered my mouth, my heart throbbing. She sounded terrible. How could Nathan still be there and listen to his own mother like this? I couldn’t if I was him. Oh Nathan… 

“Anything!” 

I heard her lightly chuckle, “Just make sure… Nate doesn’t do anything bad… please? H-he’s really not… doing good.” 

“Of course.” I would imagine he wouldn't be doing too good. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

She hung up. 

I threw my phone on my bed, worried about what Nathan was even doing. I really am worried about him. So is nearly all of my siblings. Including Jasmine. I really wanted to talk to him. But I don’t think he’s going to school for the next couple of weeks. How do I know? Because I have the exact same message from the school. Also with a small note from Mrs. Kay saying that I should be there for him. Why wouldn’t I? I’m not a fake friend. I just hoped Nathan would call me eventually. 

———Nathan———

She wasn’t getting any better. Actually, I think she was getting worse. The doctor’s increased the amount of pain meds for her, and nearly everyday they have to do an emergency procedure because she couldn’t breath right. That’s when I received the news that she had a punctured lung, which explains why she couldn’t breath properly. But that wasn’t good news. There was none. Anything I had heard was something that was wrong with her. 

It was evening now, I was reading a book while she had the channel turned on to The Golden Girls. Everything was peaceful until she had a fit of coughs, and eventually the heart monitor was beeping fast. The doctors rushed in, and I could hear her struggle to breath again. 

“Mom!” I yelled, watching as they had rushed her down the hallway. 

“I love you, Nate.” She formed a weak smile right before they shut the door on me to the procedure room. 

——————

I came back home after a week of staying in the hospital on that uncomfortable bench. I had a bag over my shoulder, and stood in the empty living room. It was quiet. You could only hear the faint sounds of crickets outside in the dark. I headed to my room, turned on the lamp in my room, and laid down in my bed, holding the old teddy bear up against my chest. 

She was gone. 

Tears formed in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. And I didn’t. She wouldn’t want to see me like that. She would say that there was no reason to cry. But there was. I had no one now. Just myself. What would I do now? I sucked in a shaky breath, falling asleep and hoping that all of those was just some sick nightmare. 

When I woke up the next morning, it was quiet still. I stood up, changed my clothes and headed to the living room, where no one was sitting down watching tv. I headed to my mom’s room, finding her bed messy. She always makes sure it’s made before leaving the house. 

So it really wasn’t a nightmare. 

I wasn’t hungry. At least I didn’t feel hungry. I had only eaten that one day, and even then all I had was half a muffin. It’s been about four days since then. I felt that my body was weak, but I didn’t care. There was nothing for me to care about. I had just thought for once second that everything was alright. That everything was going great, and then this happens. It’s just my luck, right? 

My phone was going off. It hasn’t for a while. Ryker was calling again, and I still didn’t really feel like talking to anyone. Of course I realized that he was just trying to check up on me, but I really wasn’t up to the task. I wasn’t even up to the task of making myself something to eat, so what makes anyone think I could hold a conversation. 

It was cold in the house, so I just grabbed a blanket and bundled myself up on the couch. The tv was on in the background. It was usually on, and I was so used to it playing something while I was in my room reading or taking a nap. What was I supposed to do with my life now? There really was no meaning if I didn’t have anyone anymore. Ryker could move on. He didn’t need to worry about me. I was just a temporary friend anyways. 

Why am I thinking like this? 

I can’t believe I fell for a false ending. I thought I could just live a happy life now. Of course whatever bad luck was following me never went away. I could keep wishing all I want, but it wouldn’t bring any of my parents back. I could cry, but it wouldn’t bring them back. No matter how hard it was to keep the tears from falling. They would hate to see me like that. They would also hate to see me alone, but it was hard to choose between the two. 

I don’t want to leave Ryker. 

I groaned, burying my face into my hands. Maybe Ryker would give up on me too if I stayed quiet long enough. He’d eventually stop calling me everyday and find a new friend that was much, much better than me. Then again… I don’t want to lose him too. I really do like him. He’s been nothing but patient and kind to me. This was how I’d be repaying him? I was a horrible person. I would tell him that I’m sorry if I had the guts to. But I don’t. There’s nothing more I want in the world than to just cry and cry and cry, and I couldn’t. 

“I’m trying to keep myself together, mom.” I whispered, stifling back a sob and burying my entire body under the sheets. I felt terrible. I deserve everything that’s happened to me… I’m a horrible person and no one would disagree with me. 

——————

For the next four days I just slept. Off and on. There were some days I would sit outside in the cold and watch as people walked down the street or how many cars went passing by. I’d go back inside, lay down on the couch with my little bear and go to sleep. I didn’t feel like doing anything else, and somehow I woke up the next day feeling even more tired than before. I didn’t know if that was a sign that my body was giving up on me, or if was from the lack of food that I’ve been neglecting to give to my body. I just haven’t been feeling like it. 

Ryker never stopped calling, and each time he did my heart throbbed. Each time he called I had to hold in the tears that were already so hard not to let out. All of a sudden I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me close and keep me warm like he used to. I missed it. I missed him. Which was an odd thing for me to say. I grew too used to him, but was that really a bad thing? It just means it’ll hurt more when he eventually leaves me. He’ll take one good look at me now, and abandon me. Even the slightest mention of the thought was enough for me to not to answer his calls. I wanted to answer so badly. 

Please help me. 

I always repeated in my mind. I still had his gift. The picture of the two of us the first time we ever hung out together. I didn’t realize how small I really was next to him until I saw that photo, but I loved it. I had a real smile on my face. I haven’t been able to do that for a while. 

This morning wasn’t any different, I sat outside for a while until I couldn’t feel my fingers, walked back inside, grabbed a book, and read until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I’d put the tv on, clean up whatever little mess was in the house, and head back outside for a little. I at least like to get a little bit of sunlight everyday. I wasn’t really taking the best care of myself, but I could just do this one little thing. It couldn’t hurt me anymore than I already was. 

Maybe I could walk over to Ryker’s? 

That was an insane thought. There was no way I could do it. Plus, he probably doesn’t even want to see me. He’s called so many times I forgot what number I was at. Why would he want to see me? I really haven’t been the best. At all. Though… I could at least try. I know where he lives. I’ve been there plenty of times to know. I really did want to see him too. 

I grabbed my phone, zipped up my jacket, and started to walk slowly down the sidewalk. It was a long walk just to reach the small gas station that was close by their house. The sun was long gone, it was cold and snowing lightly outside, my face was freezing and my skin stung from the cold, but I kept on going. I was almost there. If he wanted to see me, he’d let me in and I could be warm again, have someone to talk to, finally be comfortable. If he doesn’t, then I’d be left out in the cold and get hypothermia unless I can make it back to my house in time. 

In total, it took me nearly an hour and a half to reach their house. I stared at the huge door in front of me, shivering. This was a bad idea. This could either go really good, or end really badly. I guess there was only one way to find out. 

I grabbed my phone with my shaking, ice-cold hands and called Ryker back. 

———Ryker———

Everyone was gone on some overnight school trip. The entire district. It was to some theme park a couple hours away from here, and I didn’t really feel like attending. Actually, I haven’t even been going to school since I received that message. I’ve been hanging onto hope that Nathan would eventually answer one of my calls. He never did. 

So now, here I was, watching a movie by myself in the living room. It was pretty late, but might as well finish off the movie. I was sitting down with a bowl of half-eaten popcorn when my phone started ringing. Probably just one of my siblings- 

It was Nathan. 

I freaked out, quickly pausing the movie and placing the bowl I had on the coffee table in front of me before answering. 

“Hello?” 

It took a while for Nathan to reply, but he did, and I was more than shocked. 

“U-um. C-c-could you o-o-open your d-d-door?” 

He just walked all the way from his house to mine. In the cold. While it was snowing. Of course I hurried to open the door, seeing the small being that was Nathan on my doorstep, shivering. I dropped my phone of the floor, scooping him up into my hand, hearing him let out a tiny squeak before I shut the door behind us. 

I gave him a second to catch his breath, his chest quickly rising up and down. I apologized so many times as I slid down the door. Nathan did not look good at all. He looked skinnier, I could tell he wasn’t really taking care of himself. I waited for him to say something, but he was struggling himself just to find the words. 

I wasn’t mad at him. Not at all. I’ve wanted to see him. I’ve wanted him to say for me to help him. Was this the time? I would do everything I could for him. Starting with making him something to eat since I’m positively sure he hasn’t been eating. I technically made a promise to his mom and I was not about to break it. 

“Did… did you want something to eat?” I whispered. It took him a second to process what I asked him, but he nodded, and I couldn’t tell if he was shivering of trembling in my hand. I stood up slowly, guiding us to the kitchen and tilting my hand on the counter for him to get off. I grabbed a plate of leftovers I made for myself last night and started heating it up in the microwave. I watched with sympathy as he scooted his back up against the paper towels and dug his head into his knees. He felt bad. 

“H-hey look, I promise I’m not mad at all. I understand why you didn’t answer my calls.” I tried to make him feel better. It’s not like I would lie to him. Nathan just shook his head, taking deep breaths to stop himself from crying. I bit the inside of my cheek, hearing the microwave go off. I took out the small container of chicken and rice and worked on making Nathan a small enough plate. I handed him the small pieces, offering a small smile as he took a bite. 

I waited until he was full, seeing that he didn’t really eat much, but it was better than nothing. Then, went over to the living room to turn off the tv. Obviously he wasn’t going home tonight. He was probably exhausted anyways, and I never did get rid of those makeshift accommodations for him. I don’t think he really wants to be alone either. 

“Do you wanna go lie down for a bit?” I asked, my hand palm up and ready for him to climb on. Nathan nodded his head, climbing on and sitting in the middle, a little warmer now. I closed the door to my room and turned on the lamp on my desk. I placed my hand on the nightstand for him to get off, but he didn’t Instead, he shook his head, grabbing as much of my sweater sleeve as he could and hung on tight. My heart fell. He just wanted someone to be there for him, and how could I deny him that? 

I smiled, sitting down up against the head of my bed and just let him stay in my palm. He was hurting, and I couldn’t just leave him like that. That’s when he let go and pointed back to the set up I had on my nightstand. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I get why you’re upset. I’ve been through the same thing.” His eyes went wide before shaking his head, “It’s not the same thing! I watched the doctors take her away. She said ‘I love you’ right before she went through the doors, and she never came out. She knew she wasn’t going back with me. I had no one waiting for me at home because my dad was also killed right in front of my face! I’ve been depressed and lonely for years, and I had no one. Did you have to watch your own parents die in front of your face? Were you alone after everything happened? No, because you had your siblings to help you!” He covered his mouth as I stared wide-eyed right back at him. He wasn’t wrong. I had people help me. Nathan didn’t. Which was why I wanted to help him. But the next words that came out of his mouth shook me to the core. 

“Please don’t hurt me. I-I’m s-sorry.” 

He brought his knees up to his chest and covered his head with his arms. My heart skipped a beat. He was afraid of me, and that just made me horrified. He never told me what happened to him before he moved here. He never told me why he was so afraid of giants. So, whatever had happened was obviously was affecting how he felt right now. 

“What? No, never little guy. Why would I hurt you?” 

“You’re not mad?” 

I shook my head, “Not at all.” 

I watched as he wiped away loose tears, sniffling them back and scooting closer to me. I braced myself for what I knew what was coming next. 

———Nathan———

Once the tears had started flooding my eyes, there was nothing I could do to stop from crying in front of Ryker now. I bit the side of my cheek so hard the faint taste of blood filled my mouth. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry. But my own words didn’t stop the tears from cascading down my face. 

Ryker fixed my position in his palm while I struggled to wipe away the loose tears that were only falling down harder the more I kept thinking about the tragic events that have happened this past month. Why? Why’d she have to leave me here? 

I was full on sobbing at this point. I had buried my face in Ryker’s hoodie to muffle the sounds of my cries. I could hear the faint sound of his heartbeat, I could hear his light breathing. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ryker. Is what I wish I could say to him, but I currently couldn’t 

Something warm pressed me up lightly against Ryker’s chest. I flinched, slightly turning my head to see that the pad of his thumb was offering some kind of comfort. It felt weird to me, but somehow I liked it? I didn’t want him to let go of me, but I was also scared at the same time. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here, Nathan.” Ryker whispered softly, noticeably trying to comfort me while I just cried and cried into the fabric of his hoodie. I’m sorry Ryker. I wanted to say it so badly, but I couldn’t. Why did he worry about me so much? I should be at home, alone, crying into my pillow. Why did he want to stay with an insignificant little human whose life somehow gets turned upside down every other month? 

“I’m s-s-sorry.” I managed to say in between sobs. He lightly squeezed me against him before responding, “You’re the one who’s hurt, Nathan. You don’t have to apologize if I’m the one who wants to help you, okay?” 

And I could practically hear the sad smile forming on his face as he continued to offer a comforting presence. 

I quietly kept on crying, grabbing fistfuls of as much fabric as I could while feeling safe up against his chest. Was this what I needed? To be held just like this and cry and cry? It felt so good. I didn’t want Ryker to ever let go of me. The soft, warm touch on my back felt amazing. 

“I-I miss her, Ryker.” I cried in between sobs. 

“I know, I know. It’s alright,” He started lightly rubbing my back, making me slightly shudder, “Do you want me to let you go?” I quickly shook my head, sniffling while tears silently fell down my face. Please don’t ever let me go. I snuggled up closer, closing my eyes. This felt right. Nothing else could make me feel better. 

“You okay?” He asked me. I nodded my head, hearing him chuckle above me. I missed both my parents. So, so much. Nothing could describe just how grateful I was that Ryker didn’t shut me out. I’ve never felt better than right now at this very moment. I don’t know what I would have done. Probably continue to starve myself until I eventually died. That was probably my initial plan, but I doubt that now that I’m with Ryker he’d just let me do that. Heck, the first thing he asks me is if I want something to eat, which I involuntarily nodded to. I felt safe when I was around him. 

Ryker moved, but never moved me. He just laid down and just let me lay down on him. I smiled to myself, closing my eyes and just letting sleep take over me. 

And it felt like the first real sleep I’ve had in ages. 

——————

Please don’t hate me, I was just in an extremely angsty mood TwT. But hey, at least we get some comfort, right? Hahaa… (Please don’t hurt me)

I’m sorry this one took so long, it’s just I wanted to add a whole bunch of wholesome scenes. It was fun and depressing to write this, but everything’s all coming together. (Please don’t mind the many errors I was too tired edit it) Only a few more chapters and it’s done! Thank you guys for sticking with me on this ride, thank you all!

[fanby-fckry]

Throwing this in the queue, because I don’t want it to look like I’m vagueing (technically I am, but this is also a general vent and psa).

I genuinely hate it when people say “delulu.” I think it dilutes the meaning of the word (both the butchered spelling and the way it trivializes delusions), and as someone with psychosis + delusions, it irks me to no end.

I’ve seen it used both in wildly inappropriate ways (e.g. people calling themselves delusional/delulu for shipping non-canon ships) and in technically correct ways that are just… Off. Ways that make me suspect the person using the word doesn’t actually understand what delusions are, and are pop psych-ing their blorbos with no research or lived experience.

For the record, I’m not knocking people who project their symptoms onto fictional characters or who reclaim ableist/saneist language, and because I cannot definitively tell who is projecting/reclaiming, and who is talking out of their ass, I would never call out anyone in particular.

I don’t support gatekeeping, censorship, or callout posts, which is why I’m posting like this rather than naming names or pettily reporting people for ableism/hate-speech when it’s likely they just don’t know any better, or that I’m the one missing context. And I know that trying to forcefully censor anything regarding marginalized groups is likely to come back around to bite the same group in the ass.

That being said, I am begging non-delusional people to please put some thought into the words that you use and the way you portray/talk about delusions in fiction and in daily life.

Content Warning: unreality/talk of specific delusions; if you suffer from delusions and find your symptoms worsen when hearing details of others’ delusions, I recommend scrolling.

I’ve struggled with delusions regarding “mind readers” for about as long as I can remember, often becoming extremely distressed by the idea that someone in the room could be reading my thoughts, to the point of creating mental mantras to distract/overwhelm potential mind readers and repeating them over and over again in my head, screaming them with my inner voice.

It’s gotten a lot better with time and therapy, but there was a time where I had persistent thoughts of, “what if somebody can hear this?” and spent 30+ minutes straight addressing potential mind readers via thoughts.

I took “thought crime” to the extreme. I genuinely believed that at any time, there could be someone who might hear my thoughts and judge/punish me for them.

I have a similar delusion that still plagues me to this fucking day, where I believe that anything I say out loud can be heard, even if I’m alone. Who hears it? That’s not specified. It’s some nebulous ‘someone,’ but for some reason, they terrify me. There are times where I physically cannot bring myself to speak because I’m afraid that the ‘someone’ will hear.

Being a crackshipper who understands that your ship will never be canon but likes to play pretend is in no way comparable to experiencing delusions. Trust me, I’ve got both!

I’d also like to talk about using “delulu” to refer to delusions of grandeur in fandom.

Disclaimer: I don’t have a whole lot of personal experience with delusions of grandeur (I experience some fleeting instances of grandiosity, but not really to the point that it significantly affects my life), so if I say anything inaccurate or insensitive, please, please feel free to correct me.

It feels like delusions of grandeur are highly misunderstood and trivialized even moreso than other types of delusions.

Having a skewed sense of self can cause major problems in a person’s social/interpersonal life, cause an increase in risk-taking behavior which can but their health and their life in danger, and is often the result of trauma. Yes, this includes delusions of grandeur!

If you’re calling your blorbo “delulu” for having a grandiose view of themselves, please take a moment to ask yourself how this trait affects them, and how your description of it might sound to the real life people reading it, especially if this isn’t your experience.

Again, I cannot stop you. Not without potentially hampering the ability of delusional people to talk about our symptoms, scaring off questioning and self-diagnosed folks, and inciting infighting. And even then, I don’t think it’d truly scrub every use of the word.

But at least think about what I’ve said here. Pretty please?

[leasey-peasey]

If I had a nickel for every time someone made Lumine a mother, Id have three nickels which isn't a lot but it's funny that it happened thrice.

Jokes aside, could you elaborate on Lumine being a mother?

Please don't feel forced to answer this ask.

HI I LIKE TO TALK ABOUT MY THOUGHTS SO BET!!

so this idea is partly because i’m in a constant state of “aww babies” and partly because i really like to hurt my own feelings with angst

so my thoughts will be kinda unorganized with this but please bear with me

so cause i get a little obsessive with my hyperfixations and works (fics) i need to know everything about the background of characters so i can really understand them to make them more interesting

and the twins don’t have a whole lotta canon lore on them, like yeah they have the alien thing going for them and the implications that they are immortal beings that isn’t really touched on but totally should be

so i really made up a whole lot of their background from theories i both read and came up with mixed with a bunch of headcanons because it’s canon until proven otherwise

so for lumine being a mom:

her and aether’s world was full of immortal people and was destroyed either by war or some form of apocalypse or something so they travel to other worlds maybe trying to find one that replicates the homey feel they had when they lived on their home planet

i imagine they were rather young, as in young for their people vs young as in our/teyvat standards. to me that’s between 500-700 years old, and their aging/maturing is sorta similar to elves from dnd only they continue to live until they fall in battle, vaguely Highlander style only they don’t have to be beheaded to die, they can die from a stab wound or something

but i imagine that they found their peace/new home at one point, not exactly early in their travels, but much much earlier than teyvat if that makes sense? like, they were traveling for at least a few hundred years before reaching this planet

so finding the similar feeling in this new world they land in, the two decide to make it their new home

now this is because i like angst and there is nothing more tragic than losing your child imo

but lumine totally fell for this person on this planet, and despite them being mortal, this was the twins new home so she pursues this romance with them and they end up having a single child (daughter and i call her Étoile because that means star and it kinda sorta fits the light names of the twins) together

well the both of them (étoile and the partner) are mortal, so lumine watches them grow older until they eventually die of natural causes (and she probably has grandkids so that line kinda continues on that planet) and she hates the feeling of losing them, especially her baby, so they (the twins) end up leaving that planet

this starts their “we’re only here to observe” thing so they continue to travel from world to world, still searching for that feeling of home in each one, but deciding to stick to themselves instead of getting involved with others because that only ends up hurting them in the end

but yeah, plus i feel like it adds more to her and paimon’s relationship (i chose lumine as the traveler when i started playing so to me she’s the canon traveler, and i use that in my fics)

because yeah, they’re best friends and have a big sis/little sis relationship, but if lumine also sees aspects of her daughter when her child was young in paimon then it adds more ✨flavor✨ to them

plus paimon does act sorta childish, like a talkative toddler yk? but it would add to her fun lil protective attitude towards the mysterious flying pixie creature that is paimon

i also think it adds more potential and character to lumine in fics because she probably really loves children and despite the pain behind the memories of her daughter, she wouldn’t want to forget her, so seeing bits of her (common traits in children) live on in other children kinda wooshes her a little?

but yeahhhh~