#//you can say like 'we left the old thread there--can we pick it up from this point' and i will make it happen :3

[emmetrain]

OOC;; IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME. STARTER CALL~~~ Like this for a starter! If you have any preference, leave a reply and I will come to plot a little bit with you before I toss it to you!!

We can also use this as a way to pick up an old thread from a different point, so feel free to like!! These starters will be tracked and mayhapsss will come with a little bit of art >:3c

Also, we have the technology TM. Feel free to fill the neato starter call form I made (not required ofc).

[flanaganfilm]

The Midnight Club - Season Two

I'm very disappointed that Netflix has decided not to pursue a second season of THE MIDNIGHT CLUB.

My biggest disappointment is that we left so many story threads open, holding them back for the hypothetical second season, which is always a gamble.

So I'm writing this blog as our official second season, so you can know what might have been, learn the fates of your favorite characters, and know the answers to those dangling story threads from the first season.

So for those of you who want to know what we were planning to do, here's a look at what would have been season 2!

AMESH Season 2 would open with Amesh, his glioblastoma advancing quickly. He would tell the first story of the season, but would be struggling to make it through. We'd focus on his love story with Natsuki for those first few episodes as it becomes clear that Amesh's death is imminent.

Meanwhile, Ilonka is trying to reconcile how she was fooled by Julia Jayne, all while falling further in love with Kevin, and she realizes he may be fading faster than he lets on.

Ilonka begins a serialized story in an effort to encourage him to "stay alive a little longer," like he did in season one. And the story she tells is... REMEMBER ME.

This was the thing I was most excited about for this season.

REMEMBER ME is one of my all-time favorite Pike books - it tells the story of a teenage girl who is pushed off a balcony, and awakens as a ghost. She has to navigate being a spirit while trying to solve her own murder. We would have stretched this story out over 5 episodes. We were going to use it as a vehicle for Ilonka to try to come to terms with the fact that she is going to die, and to begin to trying to wrap her head around being a ghost... but this is the coolest part... the lead character of Ilonka's story wouldn't be played by Ilonka. She'd be played by...

Anya.

Because this is how we live on, isn't it? In the minds of those we leave behind. And Ilonka would use REMEMBER ME as a way to imagine her dear friend Anya, waking up as a ghost, navigating the afterlife. And this sets up one of the best mechanisms of the show - even if a character dies, as long as they're remembered by members of the club, they live on in their stories.

As the story starts to pick up steam, though, the group will have to deal with the death of Amesh, which he greets with grace and bravery.

In his final moments, he sees someone in his room - the Janitor from the first season, as played by Robert Longstreet, who says comforting things to Amesh even though he can't respond.

In his final, final moments, the SHADOW descends upon Amesh, and he is engulfed into it, which reinforces the idea that the Shadow is DEATH...

With Amesh's death comes something that upends the entire thing: a NEW PATIENT. We didn't work out too much about who this would be, but it would be a new roommate for Ilonka. Someone taking Anya's old bed. Ilonka would find herself being initially cold to her - just as Anya was when Ilonka arrived. Even feeling like this new girl shouldn't necessarily be ushered into the Club. But of course they would develop a beautiful friendship over the course of the season. The new girl joins the club, where something else exciting is happening - Cheri is telling a story. We hadn't decided which one, but I think it might have been MONSTER.

Natsuki would be the next to die, which would be heartbreaking. And again, she would talk to the janitor just before it happened... and again, the Shadow would come in the final moments.

For Spence, though, things would take a different turn.

The advancements in HIV treatment in the late 90's would come into play, and we'd see his prognosis change. The HIV cocktail came out in Dec 1995, and we really wanted to explore that.

Spence would ride the swell of antiviral advancements, and by the end of the season, he'd no longer be classified as terminal. In the finale of season 2, Spence would leave Brightcliffe just like Sandra did in Season 1, heading off to manage his disease and live the rest of his life.

But onto the BIG MYSTERIES of the season one... here are some answers: What is up with Dr. Stanton's tattoo and bald head? Well, a few things. First, Dr. Stanton is actually the daughter of the original Paragon cult leader, Aceso. Her nickname was Athena, she wrote the Paragon journal that Ilonka found in S1. She turned on her mother and helped the kids escape, but because she was part of the cult in her teenage years, she had the tattoo.

It was her initials that Ilonka found carved into the tree in season 1 (her maiden name was Georgina Ballard, hence the G.B. that Ilonka finds carved in the tree).

She hated what her mother became, and the atrocities of the cult. She reclaimed the property after her mom was gone, and wanted to change it into a place that celebrated life. She was trying to undo her mother's legacy and leave something behind that was beautiful. She is wearing a wig at the end of S1 not because of a sinister reason, but because she is undergoing chemo. Dr. Stanton has cancer. Having helped so many people deal with disease, she now has to deal with it herself.

Her treatment would be successful, and she'd go into remission, but having to face that - while caring for the terminal kids at Brightcliffe - was going to be a very introspective arc for Stanton.

What about the Living Shadow? It's Death, right? Well... no.

At the end of the season, Kevin will die... followed shortly by Ilonka. And as she is dying, two things will happen. First, she'll find herself talking to the Janitor, played by Robert Longstreet... and she'll make a discovery.

HE is Death. And nothing to be afraid of. It turns out no one else ever saw this character. Stanton has a cleaning service, and the Nurse practitioners make up the rooms - the only people who ever saw this mysterious Janitor were the patients. He is Death, and offers them kind words before they die. Then what was the Shadow?

This is an idea we take directly from the book REMEMBER ME, and we'll see it play out in the final moments of Ilona's final tale. In Pike's book, Shari is pursued by a dark entity called The Shadow. When it finally catches her, though, it turns out it is not a bad thing at all.

The Shadow is THEMSELVES. It's the Unknown. As it engulfs someone, in the last moment of their life, it takes them through a place of understanding and catharsis, preparing them for the next step.

THIS is what happened to Anya in S1 when the Shadow finally reached her - that's why she fantasized a life beyond Brightcliffe, which ultimately let her find acceptance of her death. It looks different for everybody, depending on their mind-set - because it is simply an extension of themselves.

The Shadow is just the final catharsis, a return to our original form - it is a moment of true understanding, and once we experience it, we move on to the next place.

We see the Shadow in full effect when it finally comes for Kevin. KEVIN DIES with Ilonka at his side, and it leads to the biggest reveal of the season:

Who were the Mirror Man and the Cataract Woman?

They were Stanley Oscar Freelan and his wife, who built Brightcliffe (fun trivia, he is named after the real-life Freelan Oscar Stanley, who built my favorite hotel in America - the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley is also the inspiration for THE SHINING!).

But more than that... there's a reason that Ilonka only sees Stanley in the mirror, and sees the Cataract Woman whenever she looked at Kevin. This is something else we took from Pike's original book... these aren't ghosts, but glimpses of PAST LIVES.

Ilonka WAS Stanley Oscar Freelan, and Kevin WAS his wife. They've lived many lives this way, and are true SOUL MATES - they always find each other, and they always fall in love. In this life, they knew it would be a short one, so they agreed to find each other in the house they built. They've been "remembering" who they are, and glimpsing their former selves in reflections, and sometimes when they look at each other. This is also why Ilonka's very first words to Kevin in S1 were "Do I know you?" and why Kevin thought she was familiar as well. They are two souls who always find each other, again and again.

The story is this: Stanley was dying, and built this cliffside home hoping that the seaside air would help him. It did, and he far outlived his prognosis (this is also true of the real-life Freelan Stanley). However, his wife began to succumb to dementia.

She would wander the halls, looking for him ("Darling!") and would even forget to feed herself ("I'm starving...") and she eventually refused to leave the basement. Heartbroken for her, Stanley painted the walls to resemble the woodland view, and the ceiling to resemble the night sky, so that it would be a little more beautiful for her.

He also painted a labyrinth on the floor, which was a technique used to try to curb the effects of dementia. She'd walk the pattern of the maze and it was believed it could help her cognition. Eventually, she developed frightening cataracts, but Stanley loved her through it all.

They were soul mates.

So while they seemed scary in season 1, that was just how Ilonka and Kevin's mind were trying to remember their pasts. We even had their faces distorting in ways consistent with how memories degrade over time. When the Shadow comes for Ilonka, and gives her this understanding - this "remembering" - she realizes she has nothing to fear. She and Kevin will shed these personas and be reborn, and have the joy of finding each other another way. The Shadow comes for her, Death takes her gently, and Ilonka goes off with Kevin back into the cosmos, ready for their next incarnation. The series would end with Cheri telling this story to a whole new table of patients, including our new series leads. Most of our original cast now would exist as stories, a story told to the next "class" of storytellers at the table, all of whom we will have met by the end of the season. A story called "The Midnight Club."

Well, that's it... that was what we had in mind. It's a shame we won't get to make it, but it would be a bigger shame if you guys simply had to live with the unanswered questions and the cliffhanger ending. I loved making this show, and I am so proud of the cast and crew. Particularly our cast, who attacked this story with incredible spirit and bravery each and every day.

But for now, we'll put the fire out, and leave the library dark and quiet. To those before, and to those after. To us now, and to those beyond.

Seen or unseen, here but not here.

I'll always be grateful that I got to be part of this Club.

[briarberrythornedhart]

Well... That’s Settled

Cw: none. Just fluff and eventual romance

It’s Saturday. A rare Saturday where you and your co-worker Eddie both aren’t working.

You knock on Eddie’s front door. Waiting a bit and hearing nothing. You knock again.

You hear “Coming. Shit! Fuck! Coming!! shit shit… Hold your gaddam horses” from Eddie— kinda muffled.

He opens the door with a scowl … and a glint catches your eye. A sewing needle in his mouth. He pulls the needle from between his teeth, it is trailing black thread. His scowl is softening into mild surprise.

“Oh it’s you??” He says

“It’s me. You…are... sewing ?? something?”

“Got a new patch for my vest at the show last weekend.” He holds up a black patch that says ‘Sloppy Seconds’ on it. “What’s up?”

“You said you were off today, and you could help me??? But your phone was busy… and probably I should have waited but it’s nearly eleven…”

“Nono, it’s cool, c’mon in.” He holds the screen door for you with his palm, fingers spread wide. “You are always welcome at Casa Munson. Didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer s’all.”

“But, Eddie Munson, you’re my only hope.” You did your best Leia Organa and Eddie grinned at you in acknowledgement of your effort.

“So you’re saying I’m a space wizard??” He fished for the compliment with typical cocky swagger.

“I’ve seen you use the Force on people with weak minds.” You wiggled your fingers in the air.

“When?? When have I ever done that?” He laughed.

You imitated Eddie’s midwestern accent that had that Munson Family brand Tennessee honey drizzled on it. “Golly, Officer, I didn’t think I was speeding. Oh - Keith, you said you didn’t want me to close on Tuesday, you personally want to walk the deposit to the bank, remember. Nah, you don’t need to roll to detect cursed objects right now after picking up that innocent looking pendant ...?”

“Well.. my magic doesn’t work on you, anyway.” He wryly pursed his lips.

It does though. It always does.

You watch him put the needle into a pin cushion that looked like a tomato and he laid his project aside.

He bends over the couch arm to do this and you can see the bit of un-inked skin above his gray boxers where his shirt rides up and his jeans ride low.

You can see the nice curve of his butt where one of the pockets is torn and his boxers show there too and you wish to hell he wanted you back.

You sigh. That would be so nice.

He stands and looks at you with his eyebrows raised in query. “What??”

So you change the subject. “Why don’t you put patches on your jeans? They are rapidly becoming more hole than fabric. Denim isn’t supposed to be... lace.”

He grins again. “That’s just air conditioning for my knees. S’very practical.”

“Including the hole on your left ass cheek - that’s for air circulation too, is it?”

His eyes widened. He runs his hand down his butt, fingers dipping into the hole. “Shiiiiit, why didn’t anyone tell me??”

“Presumably because we were all enjoying it?” You suggested playfully.

His eyes snap to yours. “Enjoying what? Me, looking like a total dork??”

“It’s called deshibile - it’s very fashionable.”

“What are you even talking about?? You're so... aggravating sometimes, I swear to gawd!” Eddie jogs down the hallway and you follow. He tries to get a good look in the mirror by his custom Warlock - she’s so pretty - but he calls her ‘Sweetheart’ - lucky tart. “ How long were these jeans ripped to hell on my ass??!! I only have two pairs - so - you saw!! You totally saw this yesterday and you didn’t even say....”

“Your boxers are keeping you decent - you just have a ripped pocket. It’s fine - You look fine. Why do you care? Keith doesn’t care about ripped pants - like - you wear shoes to work... so you are one up on Argyle with the flip flops. Now if you went commando, that might be a problem.”

He is running his hands through his hair. “I can’t afford more jeans right now... fuuuuuuck.”

“You have sewing supplies right here - You just need another patch, Eddie - from older jeans or an old t-shirt... it would barely show - until our next pay day and then we could go thrifting together? If you want?”

“Yeah.... yeah... sorry - just went to that concert and I shouldn’t have because we needed a plumber last week and money’s tight.”

You nodded. Money is always tight. The job pays you both very little. You know why you stay (to see Eddie) - but you don’t know why Eddie doesn’t get a better job.

“Hey - I’m sorry, I said you were ‘aggravating’, man, I-I didn't mean it - I mean, you do Drive Me Insane, but I guess I kinda like it... how we joke around.” Eddie leaned his forehead into the mirror - closed his eyes. “You’re a good friend, you know?? And... and I promised to help you out. But, I kinda forget what with??”

“Because I didn’t say. Because it’s a secret.”

“Oh! Covert mission, huh?” Eddie turned with - well it wasn’t elegance but it was beautiful just the same. He clapped his large hands together and rubbed them up and down with glee. “What are we up to?”

“I’m making a mix tape. For a guy I like. And I know you have the perfect set up to record on.”

“For a guy??”

“Yeah - I’m into them - dudes - in general.” you snarked. “Girls aren’t out of the question , but I do tend to go for...”

“I know-ah. I mean. You wanna use my equipment - and my music, I assume??”

“Some of it.” You nodded at Eddie. Eddie has a great music collection.

“My stuff... To court some loser...”

“He’s not a loser. He’s perfect.”

“No guy is perfect, I guarantee you.”

“He’s handsome. He’s kind and generous. He’s funny... on purpose. He has these lips...”

“Stop - I do not want to hear about his lips. Where’d you even meet him? At...”

“You know - around Hawkins...” You cut him off before he can ask ‘at work?’ and you’d have to come up with some crazy lie.

“You sure he’s single?? Maybe he’s dating half of Hawkins?? Maybe he’s gay?” Eddie is not looking at you - he’s flipping through records in a milk crate.

“Maybe he is all of those things - or he’s not into me at all - or maybe he’s not into anyone - that’s why I’m making the mix. I can tell him I like him in the j-card and in the musical subtext - if he’s not into me and can never be - we can just be friends. I’ll die a little, but that’s okay - every day we die a little more, right?”

“Morbid. But, accurate.” Eddie turned back to you. “Okay - I said I’d help you and I’ll help you - but we are making two mix tapes. One to express your interest in this guy - who probably doesn’t deserve you by the way. And one for you. Just for you. Deal?” He asks this like he’s the one convincing you of this project. Your idea - your excuse to spend time with Eddie - as much as you can finagle.

“Deal.” You go to shake on it and Eddie stops and spits in his right palm first. He checks you to see if you are grossed out. By his saliva?? No. Opposite really. “So - not a blood pact?” You kid and spit as delicately as you can into your palm - hold it out for him as brave as you can be. He grins, shakes it. You try not to think about your spit combined on your hands. Fail utterly at that.

“Okay... tell me about this Paragon of ‘Manly’ Virtue...” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You said you didn’t want to hear about his kissable lips, his pretty eyes, his nice ass...”

“God! Stop - I didn’t know you were so fucking horny!! I meant his musical tastes.”

“He’s beautiful and I am an appreciator of his physical attributes. He’s not just a piece of meat though... he’s also got a great voice... and he’s very clever...”

“And you’re what - gonna only put really horned up slutty music on this tape and probably sleep with him immediately - you Can’t!! I mean, don’t - he might have crabs or something. You gotta be more careful.”

“He’s probably not going to like me back, but if he asks me on a date I’ll be sure to ask him point blank if he has crabs, first thing.”

“I’m just sayin’ maybe get to know him a bit before you offer your... body.”

“Okay - noted - Hmmm - ‘Horned up Slut Music’ What’s that filed under in your milk crates system ‘H’ or “S’?? Wait - did you just mean SKA?”

Eddie pushed into your shoulder with his, playfully, and was unusually quiet for a while. Picking up records and tapes and showing you song titles. Gently steering you away from anything that sounded like a Direct proposition for sex with the ‘mystery guy’.

Finally stopping you. “Now you’ve got 97 minutes of music, you’ve got to edit.”

“I thought we were making two mix tapes?’

“I’m making the second one. You have enough on your mind with mr. wonderful. When he breaks your heart you can listen to my mix and cry on my shoulder, and I’ll go kick his ass sideways.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” You looked down in your lap.

Eddie put two fingers under your chin and lifted your eyes to meet his. “Is he...like... is he so much better than me?” His voice broke a bit on the end.

You couldn’t speak - why wouldn’t words come out??

Eddie sounded put out but his eyes weren’t mad. “Like, other than the lips and the ass... or whatever - what’s he got that I don’t?”

You kinda... launched into his lap. You absolutely kissed him with tongue right off.

Eddie scootched like a crab into his bed - pulling you with him. Kissing you back.

“Am I a close second? You could settle for me, I’m kinda okay with that, considering the kiss you just laid on me didn’t feel like second prize.” Eddie looked so sweetly befuddled. “I do not have crabs and I’m not secretly dating anyone and I’ve been into you since day one.”

“Eddie, you are the guy.”

He blinked.

“You made me a mix?” Eddie’s pretty eyes got a twinkle in them. “But the messaging is so vague - how will I know if you are really attracted to me when you didn’t use any music to indicate a deep lust for my person.”

“You’ll just have to read the j-card.” You teased back.

[dira333]

The Soulmate Theory - Todoroki Shouto x Reader

I welcome you to my probably last-ever Soulmate fic. As much as I love reading this trope, it's gotten harder and harder to write. I hope you like it. This is for @shoulmate

Trope: You share your Soulmate's pain.

Soulmates used to be a thing. 

A long, long time ago, way before the first ever Quirk was documented, Soulmate bonds were just as common as Quirks are nowadays.

Your grandmother used to be fascinated by it, told you stories about her grandmother who was convinced she shared a soulmate bond even though not one case had been documented in the last hundred years before her.

It’s only natural, you’d say, that you didn’t realize you had one. After all, why would you think that?

-

Pain has always been part of your life.

Your wrists hurt and your legs hurt and your back hurts and your stomach hurts… all the time. The doctors cannot find anything, some even accuse you of pretending for attention. You’d gladly trade all that attention against a pain-free day.

Your Quirk’s Telekinesis and you’re so glad about it, because how else would you be able to move that pen and write that notes when your hands hurt like this?

You’re getting better at it too, threading a needle or picking up the last grain of rice with your thoughts alone. 

-

A dull ache has settled behind your left eye after what has been the most intense pain flare you’ve ever had. All you want to do is rest. 

But your mind is reeling, craving an outlet for all the thoughts inside your head.

Your restless eyes find some fabric in the corner of the room. Soon enough a few needles are working their magic, a creation coming to life before your eyes.

You might not be able to walk around most days, but at least you can still create outfits you’d love to flaunt in.

-

Years later

-

“Can you take over my student?” Kameko asks, “He wants a completely new costume.”

“What year?”

“First year. And his old one wasn’t even destroyed.”

“So? Maybe he found something out about himself.”

She huffs. “Please? I still have to finish Amajiki’s new design and you know how anxious he gets.”

“Yeah, no problem. Can you take another first year off my plate then? His name is Midoriya and he ripped it in half, it seems.”

“Oh yeah, give it to me.”

Someone clears their throat. You look up from your work into a set of heterochromatic eyes, one blue, one grey.

“Yes?” You ask. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here for my new Costume.”

“Are you Midoriya?” You point at the green fabric on your desk, or rather what’s left of the costume.”

“No, I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

“Ah,” Kameko doesn’t even look guilty at being caught. “You’re with her then. Do you need the think tank?” She points at the cubicle where you can go and plan outfits.

Todoroki looks like he isn’t quite sure, so you carefully slide off your chair and shuffle over.

“Come, come,” you wave at him, “It’s never wrong to brainstorm.”

“Are you hurt?” He asks and has the decency not to point at how you clearly favor your left leg. 

“Not more than usual,” you try to joke and though he looks a little confused, he doesn’t ask more questions.

.

Todoroki is a quiet individual. He’s not shy, that you perceive immediately, but he makes sure to check if he’s allowed to speak before he opens his mouth.

He’s also insanely pretty, the red, rough skin over his left eye giving him even more appeal. But he’s also one year younger than you, so you keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head.

“If you want to change the design, we can do that, no problem.” You remind him when you’ve finally found something he seems almost happy with.

“I don’t want to cause you more work.”

“If you don’t cause me any work I’d have nothing to do,” you joke and he looks at you quietly for a while. You wonder if he’s ruminating over your joke or waiting for you to talk on and sadly, you’re more than likely to ramble in a confusing silence.

You gesture, somehow now talking about the importance of fresh orange juice for the human body, a topic you didn’t even know you could talk about beforehand when your hand connects harshly with the door behind you. Your wrist catches the doorknob and the pain is immediate, sharp and cool, like you’d imagine being stabbed with an icicle would feel like.

Todoroki hisses behind you and you’d compliment him on the empathy if it wouldn’t hurt like that.

When you turn, hand pressed against your chest, he’s cradling his own hand before dropping it. “Musclespasm,” he explains quietly, offering you a hand that is covered in ice. “Do you want me to cool it? It helps.”

-

“I’d like to add some more details to my costume,” Todoroki approaches you with a Bento Box in hand.

You nod, unable to speak for a moment as you focus your Quirk on a particularly tough seam.

“No problem, as I said. What’s it about?”

“Could we use the think tank?”

You turn to check but it’s clearly occupied.

“Sadly not. Is it more complicated then?” You nod at the Bento Box. “Do you think it will keep us occupied during lunch break?”

“No, this is…” Todoroki hesitates for a second before holding it out to you. “It’s just something I wanted to give you. My sister made these.”

 You open it with curious fingers to reveal twelve perfectly shaped cookies.

“That’s lovely, but why me?”

His cheeks turn pink and his lips curl into an adorable pout before he eventually talks.

“I mentioned that I was pleased with the changes and she told me to say thank you.”

“Aww,” you coo. “Your older sister then?”

“Yes,” the pout exaggerates, “I would have said thank you without her intervening.”

“Of course you’d have.” - “But my cookies didn’t turn out good.”

You both speak at the same time, or rather you accidentally interrupted him and he still talked on.

You stare at him now, mouth agape as you process his words.

“You made cookies for me?”

“Yes,” Todoroki nods, “I wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s my job.”

“I still want to say thank you.”

“Next time,” you joke, not quite realizing what you’re saying until it has left your lips and your brain has caught on, “just bring me the Cookies you made. It’s the thought that counts.”

He stares at you with wide eyes for what feels like eternity before a soft pink blush blooms on his cheeks.

You hide your own face in the box of Cookies, hope that he won’t hear the thunderous beating of your heart over the noise of you eating one.

They’re delicious. Of course they are.

-

You don’t know how or when or even why, but clearly, there’s a friendship growing between you and Todoroki Shouto. He’s stopped claiming he’s only dropping in for new additions to his costumes and in turn you’ve tried quite a few of his food creations, each one of them worse than the last.

But he’s cute and honest and real about it and you couldn’t do better if you tried anyway.

Your pain, however, doesn’t stop just because you’ve found work you enjoy or friends to spend your time with.

There are days where you cannot get out of bed. Days where strong painkillers allow you to get to school only for everything to go past you because those painkillers leave you loopy and tired, falling asleep over some costume in the early afternoon hours.

At least you’re not in the Hero Course, you think on the worst days, because you’ve seen the bruises Training leaves on Shouto’s arms and legs.

That’s before you realize that Training is the least of all his problems.

-

Third Year

“How are you?” You ask, because what else do you ask your Crush Slash Good Friend you haven’t seen in months?

Shouto’s got new scars, he’s grown, and he’s fought in a war while you were bedridden from pain, your mother scared out of her depths that you’d die in an attack, unable to move.

But you survived and so did he and if you can believe what you’ve heard on the news, he’s found out some things about his family too.

“Tired,” he admits, dragging a hand through his hair, “I missed you.”

You wonder how hard it was for him to admit that. 

 “Think tank?” You ask, slipping off your chair when he nods.

The last few days have been painless and even though you’re anxious about what’s to come after that, you can’t help but enjoy it.

When the door closes after him, you realize just how small that cubicle really is. 

Or maybe it’s just that Shouto doesn’t step away like he used to do, staying so close to you that you could count every single one of his long lashes if you wanted to.

“Can I hug you?” He asks and you nod, unable to say anything, even less when he pulls you in.

He’s tall and strong, cool on one side and warm on the other and your face nuzzles into his neck like it was meant to be like that anyway.

You don’t speak for a while, just hold each other in the semi-privacy this room provides.

“I want to take care of you,” Shouto whispers at some point. “Can I?”

Somehow it doesn’t surprise anyone that you two end up dating.

-

Your third year is almost painless.

Sure, there are frequent days where you’re sore for no reason whatsoever, but that is nothing against the blinding pain that had tied you to a bed for weeks before. 

Sometimes, Shouto pouts about that. He thinks it’s his job as your boyfriend to look after you and what good is he for if you don’t need looking after?

His friends tell you that he’s less reckless now - as if he’d ever been - making sure to keep himself safe because you need him.

You’ve met his sister, one of his older brothers and his mother, all of them nice, though maybe a bit distanced. 

Emotional vulnerability doesn’t seem to come easy to them.

Shouto, however, likes to talk about his feelings in depth. And he wants to know how you’re feeling too, listening with wide eyes as you explain.

Should it be weird that you’re dating someone younger than you? If so, you’re doing it wrong. 

-

The first(?) hint

“Do we need anything from the store?” You ask, phone crammed between your ear and shoulder as you grab your stuff from the passenger seat.

“I was going to get the groceries,” Shouto huffs on the other side of the call and you can see it, how he pouts at the thought that you’re doing it instead of him.

“I was already on my way. You can do the laundry.”

“I hate doing the laundry,” he groans and you giggle. “I know. I’m going to help you with it, don’t worry.”

“I could cook,” he offers and you giggle again, opening the door to step out. “As much as I love you, Shouto, I don’t love your cooking.”

“Fine,” he says, sounding exactly like a child that didn’t get its way, “But we do face-masks while doing the laundry.”

“Of course. I’ll call you back later, okay? I need both hands for shopping.”

“Sure. I’ll buy you more headphones in the meantime.”

There are a few more teasing remarks, a last “I love you” and then you shove your phone back in your purse and turn to where you think the shopping carts are located.

You don’t see the step in front of you before it’s too late and then you’re tumbling through the air. It happens slowly and then all at once and you’re not really sure what hurt first and what hurts the most. 

For a moment you’re just lying there, face down on the pavement, trying not to puke, collecting your thoughts as if they scattered on your floor just like your open purse.

Your phone starts ringing and that seems the most manageable task so you pick it up from right in front of you and press it against your ear.

“Yes?” You ask.

“Love, are you okay?” Shouto sounds worried.

“No, I just tripped and fell,” you pick your head up from the asphalt and squint at your stuff in front of you, “in the middle of the parking lot.”

“Just after you hung up I felt a lot of pain and I just… I knew it was you.” 

-

It keeps happening after that.

It doesn’t help that you’re clumsy, but maybe that’s for the best now, as you try and figure out this weird coincidence.

If you hurt yourself, Shouto feels the pain.

If Shouto hurts himself, you feel the pain. 

It’s only after he almost gets buried by a collapsing building that you actually tell a Doctor. Or rather Midoriya unloads all the Data he has collected on the poor, unassuming Recovery Girl.

The most likely answer, as strange as it might sound, is the Soulmate Theory.

“Since you’re the first documented case in hundreds of years we don’t have anything to prove this theory. But I’m quite positive that more cases will follow.”

You blink back at her, not quite understanding. Shouto’s left hand, one of the few places of his that are not covered in bandages, squeezes yours.

“You know what that means, right?” He asks.

“Yeah. We’re most definitely never going to break up.”

His eyes widen in a way you’ve grown familiar with. No matter how long you’ve been dating, you still seem to be able to surprise him.

“No,” he presses out weakly, “I meant… That all the pain you went through as a child and teenager, that was me. It’s my fault.”

You lean down to press a kiss to the little spot above his eyebrows that has come away unscathed.

“I’m not saying it was nice, but if I could take at least a little bit of the pain you went through, I’d say it was worth it.”

-

You’re pretty sure Shouto would disagree, but in your eyes Soulmates are not quite as fancy as they’re made out to be.

After all, you found him on your own, didn’t you?

[sturniolo04]

Sick Girl C.S.

Husband!Girl Dad!Chris x Wife!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

It was a pretty normal day in the Sturniolo household, You and your husband were sound asleep in your shared master bedroom while your 5-year-old daughter Layla was sound asleep in her room. All was quiet, until your daughter made out a distress call for you and Chris.

"MOM DAD"

Layla screams out in pain.

"yes baby whats going on"

you asked worried as your rush into her room first with chris coming in minutes after.

"it hurts"

"what hurts babygirl"

chris asks as he kneels down next to you at the edge of Laylas bed where she rests her head

"m-my stomach"

she stutters out breathing in raggedly.

"does it feel like you are going to throw up or is it just hurting"

you ask her as chris thread his fingers through your guys daughter's hair.

"both"

Layla sobs out honestly.

"laylaa"

you coo out as you begin to rub her stomach to see if that would help ease her suffering a little.

You thought the rubbing on her stomach was helping seeing she at least stop sobbing in pain but it wasn't until Layla started letting out labored breaths and placed her tiny hand on top of yours, that you then looked to Chris with wide eyes knowing whats coming next.

"chris go get the trashcan"

you quickly tell your husband pointing to the trashcan with him proceeding to grab the pastel pink trash can in his daughter's room next the small vanity area, as you quickly sit her up at the edge of her bed.

"its okay babygirl"

you calmly whisper in you Layla's ear since you are sitting right next to her as Chris kneels down in front of her placing the trashcan under her chin. Layla proceeded to gag a couple time filling the silence that fell over the room, before she spilled the contents from her stomach into the trashcan, squeezing her eyes shut.

"oh my goodness layla"

you exclaim out turning your head away from the sight of your daughter as she continues to gag and continue spilling into the trashcan.

"atta girl, youre okay, get it all out"

chris says to Layla.

"you done"

chris asks as she nods her head as he removes the trashcan and setting it next to the nightstand.

"good girl"

you states rubbing you daughters back comfortingly.

"lets go get you some medicine and some soup to settle your tummy"

chris speaks up grabbing Layla gently by her waist as she reaches her arms out to him, picking her up as they make their way downstairs with you following. Chris proceeds to set layla on the couch across a few feet away from the kitchen where you and Chris walked in to after turning on a random cartoon to appease your daughters attention for the time being.

"babe where did we put the medicine"

chris ask curiously looking through all the cabinets in the kitchen as you start warming up the chicken noodle soup for layla to eat in hopes it will somewhat settle her stomach.

"umm check upstairs maybe you left it in our bathroom"

you reply to him as he makes his way quickly upstairs.

"here layla take a couple bites of this it might help your tummy okay"

you say to your daughter as you feed her a couple spoonfuls then setting the bowl on the couple table a few feet away.

"hows the tummy feel"

you question

"a little better"

she mumbles out.

"you want me to go get your pillow and blanket to lay on the couch"

you ask her as she nods her head in response as you disappear upstairs to grab her belongings she agreed to have on the couch with her. As you started to make your way downstairs, you pass you and chris shared room seeing his confused expression painted on his face.

"which one is it"

he asks simply dumbfounded

"it's this one-"

you trail off as you your daughter shout from downstairs, sharing a concerned look with chris.

"UH OH MOMM"

Layla exlcaims in between labored breath as you and chris made your way to the bottom of the steps gazing at your daughter hunched over figure, her supporting her weight on her tiny palms on the cushion of the couch's edge, as she lets out quick gag.

"no no no no no no"

you speak as you rush over to her pulling her hair back behind her shoulders as chris quickly runs to grab the kitchen trashcan to place it under his daughters chin, not quite making it in time. Layla spills out the contents of the couple spoonfuls of soup so ate onto to the floor in front of the couch.

"IM SO SORRY"

she sobs out, as chris finally places the trashcan under her chine careful not to step in the mess in front of him.

"its okay babygirl you're not feeling well you couldn't help it"

chris coos out as she lets out another gag spilling more of whatever was still in her stomach.

"oh goodness babygirl"

chris continues to coo out as you make you way to gather the cleaning supplies to clean the mess.

"i-i think I'm done dad"

Layla states pushing the trashcan away.

"okay pretty girl how about we go lay down try to sleep it off"

chris replies to his daughter as he moves the trashcan back to ground level on the floor, proceeding to pick her up carrying her to her room.

Time Skip

"is she finally asleep"

you ask chris as he walks back into your guys shared room after staying in Layla's room until she fell asleep which was proving to be difficult with the constant throwing up she has been doing all day.

"yeah i gave her some of that medicine so hopefully she sleeps it off"

chris sighs out sitting next to you on the bed pulling you into his cuddling grip.

"thats good hopefully she can eat something later to because she couldn't even finish the soup"

you huff out feeling bad for you daughter.

"she should be able to later hopefully"

Later that day, Layla did end up feeling a little bit better and did eventually begin to eat something and keep it down easing your nerves.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @dirtylittleheart333 @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @stayingstromboli

[tragedry]

hi ry, can you tell us what your fave ashler moment is and why 👀😳

i have a lot anon... like a lot™

so narrowing it down to a single ashler moment is pretty difficult.. but if i had to pick a particular moment that i can't stop thinking about lately, it would have to be this:

EPISODE 57-58 (LET THE ASHLER META POST BEGIN)

idt anyone ever talks about how much ashlyn actually cares about tyler.

we've seen them bicker (like an old married couple) so many times in the webtoon, but this is the kind of moment where you stop and realize that ashlyn and tyler are close. and that they actually trust and care about each other. like a lot.

in chapter 57, during their video call, we get a glimpse of their interaction and it's honestly such an eye opener.

bc we see tyler volunteering to be left behind (out of his need to keep everyone safe and to not be a burden), and ashlyn immediately shoots that offer down with a hard "AND I SAID WE AREN'T GOING TO DO THAT" indicating that they have already had this conversation before, and further emphasizing that she has no plans of leaving him behind. (which not only highlights how they literally bicker like an old married couple, but also how unlikely it is to believe that these two could ever hate each other, so anyone who thinks ashler are trying to slit each other's throat definitely need to re read the source material bc ash would rather eat rocks than leave tyler behind)

(and i love how she even goes out of her way to get mad at him for making light of his current situation. like we can really see how seriously ash took his situation to heart and that no amount of tyler making like of his situation to appease her, could ever make her forget what happened-- which honestly goes to show how: 1.) ashlyn cares about him. and 2.) tyler feels the need to elevate that guilt from her in any way he can.)

i also adore her refusal to leave him behind and how her insistence to stick to their plan goes on for the next two panels or so, not to mention the fact that she literally berates him for his recklessness after waking up from the hospital.

Ashlyn: Not to mention, the stroke from shock could've killed you!

Tyler: Fine, fine, whatever. Stop yelling.

look at his expression from their lil exchange, i love how resigned he is to her nagging LMAO

but going back to my point, the fact that ash goes on to emphasize her point truly highlights the fact that she does not want him to die, making her concern for his well-being quite obvious!

AND THEN WE GET TO CHAPTER 58!!

MAN THERE'S SO MUCH TO SAY!!

(tw for blood up ahead!!)

FIRST OF ALL,

ASHLYN FINDS HIM FIRST.

in a very dangerous, life-threatening, high stakes situation--where every second counts--where tyler's life is literally hanging on by a thread, ashlyn finds him.

she finds him and immediately eliminates the immediate threat to tyler's life.

and that all happens in the blink of an eye,,, well it's probably more than that, but the way these two scenes are drawn is meant to emphasize two things: ashlyn's ability to find tyler and her ability/efficiency to dispose of a phantom in order to protect those she cares for!

and i just love how her expression immediately shifts from concern (upon taking care of the immediate threat) to downright terrified (as soon as she realizes the state tyler is in)

she couldn't even bear to finish her question, and it breaks my heart to see such a haunted look on her face. she is literally faced with the sight of tyler impaled to a tree and loosing far too much blood, and it must have been such a juxtapose to the last time she had seen him (in the hospital, whole and unhurt) that it's no wonder ash literally freezes for a moment here, only for tyler's blood to drip on her cheek.

TALK ABOUT TRAUMA.

i would also like to point out that she came rushing to his aid alone.

with the way aiden and the rest of the group seemed to be looking for her, we can all concluded that ashlyn had been the only one to hear tyler's scream and immediately started running to find him, probably at the expense of leaving the rest of the group in her desperation to get to tyler in time.

and while the rest of the group is obviously taking in the brand new trauma of seeing their friend (brother in tay's case) literally dying in front of them, ash has already recovered enough (or at least has steeled herself enough to find move and focus on the important task at hand)

and it's so important for me to note how she doesn't berate the rest for freezing up.

but she also doesn't coddle them, opting to let them process and handle the situation on their own as she takes in the biggest responsibly (and burden) of climbing up the tree in order to sedate tyler.

literally cannot get over this moment, the slight tremble of ashlyn's hand, the way her voice remains steady as she promises to get him down, followed by tyler's soft "... okay."

(he's obviously in a lot of pain, and talking was probably the least of the things he should be doing, and yet he still felt compelled to answer her)

and can we just talk about the way she was able to hold herself together up until she was able to get down, but immediately had a full body tremble right after.

my poor girl....

chapter 58 truly is one of the darkest moments between ashler (aside from the season finale and the fourth episode following it, which i'll explain in a bit)

i say 'darkest' in the sense that tyler's near death is the manifestation of ashlyn's biggest fear: failing the people she cares about.

her breakdown during episode 52 had been a culmination of having to not only survive but lead her friends to safety from monsters actively trying to kill them every night.

but the tipping point had been failing to stop tyler's fall, followed by having to make the difficult decision of leaving him behind in order to save the rest of her friends, immediately followed by having to see tyler convulsing as soon as they wake up from their trip to the phantom dimension.

could you imagine how horrific the scene is in ashlyn's pov, having to see tyler (someone who normally has a large presence, and easily towers over most of their group) literally looking so helpless in mike's arms?

the realization of ty's fragility, at the fact that all of them are just kids who were thrown into a world fulls of horrific creatures trying to kill them, and having no one else to rely on.. and being shouldered with the responsibility of being the leader...

ashlyn took tyler's hospitalizations (his fall) as a personal blow. a failure that practically leads her to breaking down.

and she had carried that guilt with her, and even when ty had reassured her later on (which is honestly such a good ashler moment btw, feel free to read my thoughts abt it here) it's not something she can easily let go of...

i honestly think that ashlyn still carries the guilt with her--a part of herself still remains haunted by tyler's fall, and she took it as a personal blow.

which leads us back to episode 57-58! where we get to see her practically coddle tyler in episode 57 in her own way (ie scolding him for his self-sacrificing nature and for his recklessness despite the extent of his injury)

and in episode 58, how she had been the first one to find him and was the one to save him (from the phantom) as well as lead the team from extracting him out of the tree.

now that ashlyn has experienced the grief and guilt of failing tyler once, she took it upon herself to make sure it never happens again.

and that's why this particular sequence of events haunts my narrative to this very day, and why ashler has such a chokehold on me.

the idea that ashlyn's protectiveness of tyler stems from her own guilt of failure, along with her growing bond and friendship with him, paired with tyler's trust and growing fondness of her.

(which i've already pointed out before here and here)

all of this to say that ashler is a very compelling ship, with depths and moments that aren't as glaringly obvious, and yet the way in which their relationship has grown and developed throughout the webtoon is irrefutable and becoming increasingly obvious through each episode, especially when you actually take the time to read and check the source material.

anyway, that's the end of my very long ashler meta regarding ep 57-58 (crazy how this isn't even tackling the entirety of the webtoon, but i'll get to that when i have the time to compile each and every moment of theirs and analyze it)

i had a lot of fun talking about them, and i appreciate all the asks y'all are sending me (it's the perfect excuse for me to keep yapping LMAO)

ending this meta with: live, laugh, love ashler ❤️❤️

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Sewing with I.N ‗ ❍

Pairing : Yang Jeongin x f reader

Summary : chapter eight of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, no warning at all just so much fluff it's crazy

Word count : 1.52 k words (longest)

A/n : It's finished omg T-T look forward to my next full length (spicy) one shot with ayen <3

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

One morning Jeongin was running around the living room in a rush to get downstairs, as his members and managers were there to pick him up to go to work.

"Bye cutie, see you l-" as soon as he bent down to give you a kiss, you heard a ripping noise. You both froze.

Jeongin instinctively slapped a hand on his ass as you quickly got up from the couch to look at the damage.

"Oh my gosh, inne let me look" you moved his hand as he started to jump up and down, impatient and anxious about being late.

Yep. There was a whole rip in his butt area in his jeans. They were literally baggy jeans, how old must have they been to rip? Maybe it was worn out?

"Quick, get out of them, I'll grab you another pair!" You exclaimed as you ran straight to his closet.

Fortunately, he took really good care of his wardrobe so it was very easy to find the pants. You grabbed a similar pair of jeans, then ran back.

You kneeled down, helping him one leg at a time, since he had like two bags on him and you were worried he would've tripped.

"You're a life saver, thank you my love" he leaned to kiss you, and succeed this time, as he buttoned and zipped up the pants.

That time, when he went out and you were left to chill at home on your day off, you decided to take a look at the actual damage and saw that it was not the denim that ripped, but rather the sewing coming undone for some reason.

You checked better, and of course you found the reason. Jeongin had cut the fabric tag way too close to the sewing and so after a while of wearing and pulling, they came undone.

Once you figured that the pants were fixable, you decided to surprise Innie and got to work. You took out your old sewing machine from the high space in your closet, then carefully picked a matching color for the thread.

About ten minutes later, the jeans looked brand new. You smiled proudly as you held them up in front of you, checking the front and the back. Not bad, you thought.

That evening, Jeongin came home tired and basically sleeping on his feet. He was exhausted.

"Aw, you're so tired, baby" you pouted as he rested his forehead on your chest. He nodded without answering, which made you giggle a bit. He was so cute.

"Have you eaten? It's a bit late so I hope you did" you asked, scratching his head lightly with your nails, to relax him.

"Something earlier. Just sleepy. Can we go to bed?" He spoke with a tired, slurry voice.

"That's good. Yes, we can. I just wanted to show you something-" you detached yourself and walked to the living room table, picking up and unfolding the jeans.

Jeongin watched your movements curiously. As soon as he saw the jeans, he focused his eyes, squinting a bit.

"I fixed them this morning. They were not ripped, the sewing came undone. Be careful not to cut the tag too short next time!" You smiled sweetly.

He took the pants from your hands and inspected them with a dimply smiled. He actually got a bit shy? Maybe it was the domesticity of it.

"They look brand new. You did such a good job, baby, thank you" he leaned closer and kissed your lips gently as a thank you.

The next time something similar happened, Jeongin came to you with a t-shirt. It was a casual, short sleeves graphic tee. Designer, of course.

"Y/nie, there's a little hole, right here, you see?" You walked closer and inspected the shirt yourself.

"Mhm yeah, I don't know how it would've gotten there, but it's totally fixable. Would you like me to fix it?" You asked.

He looked at you with love-filled eyes and shyly nodded. You kind of noticed his demeanor and that made you smile, too.

"Okay then. Trust me."

This time, you decided to dare a little and do something more. But based on how he seems to react, and honestly how good of a job you did, you were excited to show him the result.

He went out for a while to get some groceries and coffe for the both you, so when he came home you waited until he had his jacket off and he was comfortable.

"Jeonginnie" you called, purposefully acting cutesy. He sharpened his gaze in suspicion, but he had a playful smile on his lips.

"Yes?"

"I fixed the McQueen shirt" you suddenly pulled it out from behind your back, handing it to him. Just like a gift. He widened his eyes and mouth in shock.

"Wow, already?? You're the best, cutie, thank you so much." He kissed your lips as a thank you, which you welcomed gladly, but then encouraged him to check out your work.

And that's when he saw it. You didn't just fix the hole. You actually used some thicker, almost wool-like thread, and embroidered a small black heart, which matched perfectly with the black and white punk style of the shirt.

He looked at it in disbelief, smiling so wide his eyes turned into little half moons and his dimples came out cuter than ever.

"No way! You did this for me?" He lightly stroke the heart with his thumb, "It's so well done and it looks so good with the rest" he kept complimenting you.

You had a huge smile, giggling like a school girl. It was almost too much how stupidly in love you were.

"So you can have a little piece of me when you wear it" you replied sheepishly. At that point he just lost it, the cuteness aggression taking over him.

So he threw the shirt on the armchair and then launched himself at you, starting to pepper all your face and neck with kisses. Making as much noise as he could while you couldn't help but giggle, then laugh as he was tickling you.

From then on, if he happened to have some issue with his non-working clothes, he'd ask if you could fix them for him, instead of asking one of their staff like he would've had done before meeting you.

You happily complied every time you could manage, but some things sometimes weren't worth it, so he threw them away, or you recommend a more experienced seamstress to handle it.

But regardless, it had almost become your little thing. He quickly got interested in the process of sewing up/ embroidery and even knitting. He enjoyed the activity, as well as creating some silly things like a knitted version of a pokémon he liked, but mostly he loved spending time with you.

"Good morning my baby" he nuzzled his face in your hair, waking you up gently. You smiled, snuggling back into him.

"Mornin'" your sleepy voice replied. He smiled widely and told you to wait a second. You protested, stretching out your arm to try and keep him in bed, but eventually dropped it back on the mattress soundly.

Jeongin came back, still only wearing a pair of tracksuit pants, hiding something behind his back.

That peeked your interest, so you fully opened your eyes, waiting.

"The big stuff is gonna come later but...for now..." He teased, getting closer to the bed, then leaning forward with one knee on the mattress, "Happy birthday, my beautiful y/nie"

At that he revealed what he was hiding, which was a whole knitted winter hat, including a cute pompon at the top. You gasped as you sat up, snatching it from his hands.

"No way you made this!" You exclaimed, excited. He laughed.

"I had a good teacher" he smiled sweetly, "Do you like it? I know it's not perfect bu-" he couldn't even finish the sentence as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you.

"Don't even say that! It's perfect, it's absolutely perfect. And my favorite colors too, oh I love you" you both had huge smiles.

"I love you, too. Happy birthday!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[ascendanttarot]

PAC: Channelling Your Present Energy

Hi, guys! This will be a PAC on your energy as of right now. I'll be channelling using tarot and automatic writing. I tried to make this reading as clear as I could, but all the messages I got were more sensory feelings than outright words/phrases. I hope you find this reading useful to you regardless. :)

I will not be listing any signs before the reading as I do with my other longer PACs. I suggest really going with your gut here, and if the message immediately doesn’t feel right, I recommend picking a different pile.

Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.

From left to right, Pile 1, 2 & 3.

Pile 1

Your Cards: The Magician rx, The Ace of Cups

Your Reading: Before we start Pile 1, I want to say that I actually had difficulty tapping into your energy. When I closed my eyes to channel instead, I smelled rain, but I couldn’t feel the rain on my skin as if to say you’ve cried all the tears you had left. I saw a fog, but I couldn’t see anything beyond that. When I tried pulling your cards again, the exact same cards (even the reversal stayed the same) from last time came out while I was shuffling, so that shows a level of certainty despite the confusion.

Your present energy feels like quiet hope, like a calm after the storm, not before it. Your present energy feels misty. Going back to the storm analogy, it feels like there was a storm in the middle of summer, and the rain poured down while you were outside, and you kept anticipating a lightning bolt to strike you down because you felt your hair stand up without your volition but it never came.

I think you’re starting to regain a bit of optimism in your life, but you aren’t letting it show because you’re scared you’ll jinx yourself. I think you’ve been manifesting something specific in your life too, but you haven’t told anyone because of self-doubt and fear of people undermining your ambition. It’s an ‘I’m not happy now but I could be’ energy. I could see golden threads around your aura connecting you to your manifestation, and your soul tugs on it from time to time. You may not see that happening but whenever you get a surge of motivation to work on your goals, this is your higher self pulling this golden string towards you just a little bit closer.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!

Pile 2

Your Cards: The Tower, Justice rx (clarified by The Star)

Your Reading: The first thing I saw when I channelled your energy was this Katniss Everdeen-type character. I know this message is odd, but I genuinely saw this blank character in the woods fighting for their life, and they’re whistling to try to get someone’s attention but the only reply was an echo of your previous whistle. You’re alone. I can physically feel leather armour digging into my skin like I haven’t taken it off for days.

Okay onto the reading. We can’t ignore the fact that you got all major arcana cards. Even the extra card that jumped out to clarify Justice was The Star. That speaks huge volumes about what your energy is like right now.

Pile 2, do you have a fear of being judged? Does this fear come from past experiences when you felt people didn’t listen to you correctly? Because your energy also feels like listening to the news using an old radio, but you just can’t seem to fix the signal. You tried walking around the house and moving the antenna only to make the audio quality sound worse.

Your energy screams potential. Why do you think people tried to put you down? There’s a strong message here that you don’t have to dim your light because you’re scared of blinding the neighbourhood. Of course you’ll overgrow your ‘house’—your ‘home’ was always meant to be something bigger. Don’t let anyone stop you from building that.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!

Pile 3

Your Cards: 7 of Pentacles, The Emperor

Your Reading: Okay, stay with me here, but your energy feels like a crocheted gift. Interwoven between the yarn is this bright yet earthy energy of hard work and time. In fact, it feels like time acts differently around your energy.

Some people view time in two categories: time spent and time lost. You, on the other hand, don’t go against time but are working with it like you’re one and the same. This energy feels like hyper-focusing on a task until you go through everything with a fine-tooth comb to perfection, and there’s a calendar in front of you but it switches between languages every second until the years look like glitched-out glyphs.

It’s like you’ve got this celestial energy no one can seem to pin down. It's weird because people think you’re lucky, but they underestimate you at the same time. And guess what? They’re wrong on both accounts.

I mean, c'mon, you literally got The Emperor! I think the people who see you working hard don’t see a point in what you’re doing. Like, if we’re going back to the crochet analogy, they may think you’re wasting your time crocheting a scarf when you could just buy it. What they don’t realise is that this skill will lead to a successful business in the future, or maybe you’ll discover a new technique after a few months that will give you the recognition you deserve. The people who think you’re lucky will think you rose to the top out of nowhere and that you haven't actually earned your status.

There’s a message to not listen to them. They only know as much as they have lived. They don’t know how much work you’ve put in to be able to get to where you are and where you will be.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!

[spectersgirl]

I just read ‘life’s like this’ and it got me thinking…. What would Harvey be like as a dad? Like I’ve never read of fic of Harvey being a dad to like a 6 year old?

Okay true and real and I’m here to answer the call 🫡

This was actually harder to write than I expected?? I also had no idea how to end it so I hope it isn't stupid lol ok hope u like it love u <3

First Day Fears

Harvey Specter x Reader

It was almost a full hour before your alarm was set for, but you couldn’t sleep any longer. Today was your daughter’s first day of kindergarten. You had been trying to play it cool, but you were anxious.

You sighed, finally getting up out of bed and getting into the shower. By the time you finished, you were glad to see that Harvey was awake.

“Morning gorgeous” he greeted you, his voice still thick and gravely with sleep. “Why’d you get up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I’m so nervous for Y/D/N’s first day of school” you answered, sitting down on the bed.

“Y/N, you know she’s gonna have the best time. Our kid is a badass, I mean look who her parents are” He said smugly.

You were about to reply when the alarm on your phone rang out, letting you know it was time to go wake up your little girl. You quickly threw a simple outfit on, and walked with Harvey to her bedroom.

She slept peacefully, and watching her sleep brought you back to the days when she was just a tiny baby and you'd watch her sleep on Harvey's chest. Seeing the look on his face now, you were pretty sure he was taking that same trip down memory lane.

You nudged Harvey and nodded your head toward her, indicating for him to wake her. Gently, he sat down on the side of her bed, running a hand through her light brown hair. She wasn't a heavy sleeper, so she immediately stirred.

"Hi sweet girl, it's time to get ready for your first day of school" He said softly, a small smile on his face. She slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes, putting an arm out to ask him for a hug. He was, of course, happy to oblige.

You weren't sure if you'd ever been as in love with both of them as you were right now. These were the moments you'd dreamed about all those years ago when you'd first met Harvey.

"If Daddy wants to help you get dressed and ready, I can go make you both some breakfast" You offered, her eyes went wide and nodded her head aggressively. She loved your pancakes more than almost anything in the world. Harvey and you both laughed, and you left to get started on the food.

Harvey went to Y/D/N's closet, looking through the mostly-pink options to put her in for her first day. She sat quietly on the edge of her bed, picking at a loose thread on her comforter. Harvey frowned when he noticed.

"You okay baby?" He asked, sitting down next to her.

"Am I gonna make friends like at my old school?" She asked Harvey quietly, and he heard the nerves in her little voice. He knew he had to hype her up, and quickly, before it turned into tears.

"You're going to make sooo many new friends!" He said excitedly. "You're the funniest, smartest, coolest little girl I know, everyone's gonna be begging to be your friend!"

She giggled, and Harvey smiled a big smile of his own.

"What do you say we go brush your teeth and do your hair, and you can put on the new pretty dress you got?" He said, and she nodded excitedly.

Not an hour later, you and Harvey were standing together, watching as Y/D/N climbed the steps of her school bus, waving goodbye before disappearing into it. You looked up at Harvey, who was visibly holding back tears as he waved back at her.

The rest of the day dragged on for both of you. Harvey was secretly a wreck all day, unable to focus on his work as he kept an eye on his cell phone, worried he'd miss a call from you or the school in case something went wrong. The call never came though, and he was home just in time to greet Y/D/N in the driveway with you as she ran off the bus and into your and Harvey's arms.

The three of you spent the rest of the day talking about how much fun she had on her first day, and all the new best friends she had.

[emyn-arnens]

In Darkness Buried Deep

Frodo & Sam | G | ~900 words | @lotrweek day 5: "here with me" | AO3

Frodo’s skin melted like wax. He burned and burned until there was nothing left of him but ash that floated away on the wind.

But even so, he still burned. His spirit, laid bare before the Eye, caught fire and trembled. The flames licked at him, all consuming, until he was hollowed, worn thin like clothing worn to mere threads that when held up to the sun cannot hide its light.

He shook from the force of the transformation, trembling and bare before the merciless Eye. His hand burned.

“Mr. Frodo!” Sam’s voice pierced through the veil of horror. “Mr. Frodo!” He shook Frodo.

Frodo scrubbed a hand over his face, his mind still caught somewhere between nightmare and waking. His hand curled around something warm. It flared against his fingers but did not burn, and a light pierced through the last lingering webs of horror.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Mr. Frodo, but we have to be getting on.” Sam peered at him closely, worry stitching his brows together as tight as a seam. He paused and looked closer at Frodo, his eyes fixed on Frodo’s chest.

Instinctively, Frodo clutched the Ring with his free hand. It was cool and soothing against his palm. He drew away from Sam, mistrusting the look in his eyes. 

Sam’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Do you remember Bilbo’s song in Rivendell about Eärendil? When I heard it, I never would have thought that one day we’d have a bit of Eärendil with us.” He nodded to Frodo’s chest. 

Frodo looked down at his hand, still held against his chest. In it was the star glass. Sam must have tucked it in his hand while Frodo slept, sensing the dark paths Frodo wandered in his sleep. And unknowingly, Frodo had clutched the star-glass to his chest, as if it were a ward against the darkness. The glass now burned as if it were living flame, casting its light about them in a pale bloom and forcing the gloom of Mordor to recede.

“I never would have thought I’d be part of one of the great stories. Me, a gardener! But it makes the task easier, doesn’t it, to think of Eärendil helping us, even though he’s sailing where we can’t go, up high above the clouds in his star-ship, and we’re down here, picking our way along paths no sensible hobbit would take.”

Something long-buried unfurled in Frodo’s heart. “Yes, Sam, I suppose it does.”

Sam paused, thoughtful. “I suppose you could even say Eärendil was sent to us, just as the Valar sent him in his star-ship to help Middle-earth long ago. And maybe that means that even now the Valar still watch and send help, even though they’ve removed themselves from Middle-earth and dwell where no man can go.” Warmth spilled over Sam’s brown face like sunlight shifting between clouds. 

“Why, think of it, Mr. Frodo!” he cried. “Maybe they’re helping us, even here in this dreadful land of rocks and fumes. Us! Helped by the Valar!” He stuck his thumbs behind his suspenders and beamed. “I wonder what my old Gaffer would have to say about that! That I’m putting myself above my station, most like, and taking part in things grander than us plain folk should be involved in. ‘Sam Gamgee,’ he’d say, ‘if you head weren’t stuffed so full of nonsense and foolishness, you’d do better remembering your place.’” Sam rocked back on his heels. “The Valar!”

Frodo's lips moved in the memory of a smile, the movement foreign and wearying. The star-glass, warm against his palm, still shone in his hand, light welling between his fingers. He clasped his hand tightly around it, then slipped the star-glass beneath his tunic against his heart and took courage from the warmth seeping into his heart.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander from the dark land they passed through. His mind stepped toward the familiar places of home, as it had when he was imprisoned in the tower, but their names were nothing more than memories with no meaning, and he saw nothing but darkness. Still, the names, though featureless, were a faint comfort, and he let his mind linger upon them, remembering why he had set out on this hopeless quest. The Brandywine, the market at Bywater, Woody End, Hobbiton—they had meant something to him once, and he seized hold of them.

He stirred. “Thank you, Sam,” he murmured and withdrew the star-glass from his tunic. The light in it had gone dark, and it looked now like nothing more than a phial of clear water. “Keep this safe for me.”

Sam helped him to his feet, and Frodo peered at the barren land, pitted with rocks and craters and ringed by a red sky, that stretched before and around them. His feet moved with renewed purpose, and his heart no longer hung as a weight in his chest. And though he could not bring himself to hope, for the embers of his hope had died to ashes in his chest, he could reach out and clasp Sam’s hope as a rope leading him through the darkness.

[thehorizonlinex]

Sea Legs

Eric teaches Ariel about his world.

Note: Posted this on AO3 a few days ago but forgot to here. A little scene I made up in my head, the first night of Ariel and Eric’s first voyage. Can’t get these two out of my head and am considering starting a short multi-chapter AU fic of them, let me know if you’d be interested!

Still new at this writing stuff so would love any feedback and comments!

~~~~~

The sky exploded with light as the ship’s crew continued to set off fireworks, booming and dazzling against the darkness. The festivities had been going on for nearly an hour, fiddles providing joyous melodies while sailors danced the night away.

Ariel snuggled closer to Eric on the steps, her gaze still focused on the brilliant colors illuminating the sky. They’d danced for almost the whole hour, her new husband teaching her the steps of the many jigs and dances.

“Have you ever seen fireworks before?” Eric shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, placing it delicately around hers.

“Once,” a smile crept onto Ariel’s face at the memory. “When we first met.”

“Oh?”

Ariel giggled. “The night of the shipwreck.”

Eric took a moment to think. “Oh, right before, you mean. My twenty-first birthday.”

He paused again. “Wait…how did you…”

Ariel felt the blush rising in her cheeks, looking down nervously at her lap and picking at a loose thread on her dress.

“I heard you talking to Grimsby,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw the fireworks, and I followed the ship. And I heard you talking. I saw the crew dancing, it was the first time I’d ever seen anything like that.”

She felt his finger touch the underside of her chin, lifting it gently so their eyes met.

“And that’s how you were there to save me.”

“Yes.”

“I had no idea.”

Ariel shrugged, turning her head once again to look out at the dancing crew. It was a miracle they hadn’t all worn out their feet by now.

“You seemed so happy, singing and dancing with all of them. I saw it tonight, too. You’re happiest when you’re on the ship.”

Eric chuckled, his eyes following hers. The crew had gotten ahold of Grimsby, the old man somehow convinced to sway along to the music with Max by his side.

“I hope you like it here,” he said. “I know ship life isn’t for everyone, but whatever’s out there - I want to find it with you.”

“I do like it here,” Ariel said. She turned back to meet his gaze, eyes twinkling in the light. “Though, there is something you could help me with.”

“Anything.”

“What’s a starboard?”

Eric raised a brow. “Come again?”

“The crew, they keep saying starboard. Starboard side, starboard sails…”

“Oh,” Eric laughed, brushing a hand through his dark curls. “It’s right. Port and starboard, that’s what sailors call left and right.”

“Why not just call it left and right?”

Eric paused. “You know…I’m actually not sure. But sailors have lots of words for things no one else calls them by.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm…” Eric took a moment to think, his eyes scanning the ship.

He pointed to the very front of the ship. “The front there, that’s called the bow. And the very back is called the stern.”

“Bow and stern,” Ariel repeated.

“Yeah. Sometimes the stern is called aft, too.”

Ariel nodded.

“The wheel,” Eric pointed out.

“The one I used to kill Ursula.”

“Yes. That’s called the helm.”

Ariel nodded again. “Can I ask one more question?”

Eric drew her closer to him. “You can ask as many questions as you’d like.”

“Why do they call the ship a woman?”

“Oh,” he laughed. “That…it comes from an old sea story. You’d think it’s silly.”

She nudged him. “Tell me.”

“Sailors believe…” he shook his head. “They believe that the king of the seas would be more favorable to girls. So referring to a ship as a ‘she’…well, it’s to appease him.”

Ariel stared at him with wide eyes, before bursting into laughter.

“My father wouldn’t care whether or not the ship was a girl, Eric.”

“Well, yes, I can understand that now.”

“Humans are silly,” Ariel remarked. “But you’re not entirely wrong.”

“No?”

“I do have six sisters. No brothers. So you could say my father does favor girls.”

She straightened up a bit. “Can I practice using the terms?”

Eric tried his best not to smile too hard, at the risk of his new wife potentially mistaking his grin as laughing at her expense. “Of course.”

Ariel pointed to the front of the ship. “The bow.”

She gestured to the back. “Stern. Or aft.”

She pointed left, then right. “Port and starboard.”

The wheel was last. “The helm.”

She took a breath, her brows knitted in deep focus. “I used the helm to turn the ship port side so the bow of the ship drove into Ursula.”

She looked up at him again. “Was that right?”

Eric couldn’t help the beaming grin on his face as he reached in for a soft kiss.

“Perfect. You’re a natural-born sailor.”

He didn’t miss her giggle before the corners of his lips lifted into a slight smirk.

“You were wrong about something though.”

She looked into his eyes, warm brown meeting ocean blue.

“What was it?”

“I’m the happiest when I’m with you.”

[birgittesilverbae]

They (whoever you’d like) celebrate Ava’s birthday, the year that she turns older than Shannon was? (Sorry this one’s sad)

Ava turns away from the bonfire and waits for her eyes to adjust before she scans the darkness of the beach. Mary's sitting in the sand down towards the curve of the shore, silhouetted in the moonlight. Ava works her hand free of Bea's, kisses the backs of her knuckles. "I'll be back in a bit," she promises.

Her back aches with the movement of standing and she takes a moment to bend double, to let gravity tug at her spine, raids the cooler for two of Bea's sparkling waters and trudges down the beach. Mary doesn't look up at her approach, just leans back on her hands and digs her feet into the sand. 

"Hey, kid," she says, almost soft enough to be swallowed by the low rumble of the waves.

"Hey." She settles down at Mary's side, places one of the drink cans near her hip. "How old do I have to be before you stop calling me that?"

Mary's body stiffens as though to a gut punch. "This old, probably," she admits, gaze still fixed out at sea. "Otherwise I'm going to start feeling like I'm calling Shan a kid, and that'd just be weird."

Ava wets her lips. "Is this–"

"You're older now than she ever was."

Ava nods, fiddles with the tab of her can. "When was her birthday?"

"She didn't take a new name when she joined, so she got St. Senan's patron day. March 8th."

"I meant her actual birthday?"

Mary's mouth goes lopsided. "The summer solstice," she admits quietly. "June 21st."

"Oh." Ava's shoulders fall, and she gnaws at her lip before continuing. "Is that… Is that what you and Bea were doing last week? Celebrating her birthday?"

"Beatrice didn't tell you?"

Ava shakes her head. "She said it wasn't her place."

Mary scoffs a little. "It's as much her place as mine," she replies, casting a glance towards the bonfire. "But yeah. We went back to Antequera. Back to the old Cat's Cradle." Her voice catches in her throat, and Ava reaches across the chasm between them, lays her hand beside Mary's. Mary grasps it, hangs on tight. "Sorry, Ava, I didn't mean to get all fucking emotional tonight."

"It's okay. Do you two do that every year?"

"All but the first after she– All but the first after she died. I went alone that year." 

Ava picks at the thread Mary's left hanging. "Because she was too busy mourning me?"

"Something like that." She squeezes Ava's hand. "I didn't begrudge her it then and I don't now, you know. I'm glad she's got you. I'm glad I didn't have to watch her turn into me."

"Turn into what, a badass?"

"Yeah, sure." Mary's teeth glint bright in the moonlight as she cracks a smile. "So glad I got to watch her turn into a lovesick softie instead."

[partiallypearl]

when you love someone (that's all that you can do)

a/n: a little father's day fic. inspired by the popular hc that kendall and katie's dad was a hockey player, and that him and mama knight are divorced/separated + the following prompt: A telling B stories about the time B was still a baby/before B was born. title from throwing in the towel from the outsiders musical!

thank you to @lesterlatte for being a beta reader! regular btr taglist: @happinessismagicc @myloveforhergoeson @ceruleanmusings @raging-violets @zackmartin (happy birthday zack, this is sort of ur birthday gift)

“What did our old house look like?” Katie asks. Kendall turns to look at her, his brow furrowed. “It was a house. Why?” 

His sister is sitting by the Palm Woods pool, her hair falling over her shoulders, still damp from her swim earlier. She looks older now, slightly less baby faced, and she’s taller. 

She’s grown into her lanky limbs, and the smile she inherited from their dad. Sometimes, he wonders what else she inherited.

If she inherited Dad’s anger like he did. If her love of money is a result of growing up without it. It scares him sometimes, to think about it.

“I don’t remember it.” He stares at her confused. It hasn’t been that long since they moved out to Los Angeles. 

“The house in Duluth?” He asks, and she shakes her head. “No. The one in St. Paul. The one we lived in before Dad…. before Dad left.” 

Neither of them speak for a moment. 

Kendall sighs, motioning for Katie to come sit beside him on the cabana chairs. She sits beside him, picking at a loose thread on her bikini bottoms. 

“It was a small house. Felt a lot smaller when Dad was around. Mom got it as a graduation gift from her parents - it was her childhood home. Dad didn’t like that he had no control over what she did with it.” 

Katie nods, and Kendall continues. “It was the main thing they fought over. You probably don’t remember, but when Dad wasn't on the road, he would sleep in a hotel a lot. He didn't want to be in the house."

Katie hums. "That's dumb."

"It was." Kendall mutters, shrugging. "He did a lot of dumb things. I'm sure Mom did too. But I don't know... At least her dumb choices kept her around. His caused them to break up."

"Is it bad that I miss him?" She asks, and Kendall pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. "No. I miss him too. I miss him teaching me Fast Car. I miss going to Minnesota North Stars games and watching him play. I miss him and Mom dancing in the living room."

"I don't remember any of that," Katie says, with a small pout on her face." Kendall gently brushes a loose hair off her face. "I just remember them fighting, and you singing You Are My Sunshine to me so I could fall asleep."

Kendall nods. "Yeah, I started doing that so you wouldn't hear them. It was the song I knew best on guitar." Katie hums, shifting closer to her brother. She looks up at him, and loops her arm around his waist in a side hug.

“I never thanked you for that by the way. For staying up with me. For taking me to the hockey rink so I wasn’t home alone. For being there when Mom couldn’t be.”

“It’s nothing.” Kendall says. “It’s what any good big brother would do.”

Katie smiles at him, her bangs falling into her face. “No, it’s what my big brother did. And he’s pretty great for it.”

He smiles down at her before kissing her forehead. “Thanks kid.”

“You’re welcome.”

[natashatrace]

hangster + first i love you + bronco conversations under the stars happy birthday @lilgreyarea ❤️❤️❤️

//

“I freaked you out, huh?” Bradley asks softly, picking at a worn spot in the leather of the steering wheel.

They’ve been parked in Jake’s driveway long enough that the Bronco’s engine is likely cool to the touch beneath the hood. Bradley keeps his gaze focused on the steering wheel despite how desperately he wants to look to his right, shrugging one shoulder as he continues, “I meant what I said. I’m not takin’ it back. But I’d get it if you’re freaked.”

“It ain’t that,” Jake sighs finally, slouching a little more in his seat. He tilts his head back to look up at the stars overhead, long enough that Bradley lets himself look over. Jake's eyes close just as Bradley's gaze falls on him and Bradley takes advantage of the moment - catalogues the way the breeze keeps catching the hair that’s fallen onto Jake’s forehead, watches the toothpick moving between Jake’s lips and wonders if he’s worn it down to nothing during the drive home from the bar. At the first twitch of Jake's lashes, Bradley shifts his focus to Jake's lap instead, watching as Jake restlessly twists the academy ring on his hand.

Bradley wonders if Jake’s also feeling and fighting the instinct to reach out and thread their fingers together.

“But it's something," Bradley finally says. "So what is it?”

Jake sighs again, pulling the toothpick from his mouth and flicking what’s left of it out onto the driveway. When he meets Bradley’s gaze, he explains, “I’m not an anxious guy. Never have been. And I’m not freaked about you lovin’ me, Bradshaw, that’s."

Smiling a bit, Jake's voice softens as he continues, "I love you, too, y’know? Have for a while.”

Bradley feels a knot in his chest loosen. “I - yeah. I thought maybe y'did."

"So observant, Rooster," Jake teases.

"Spent a lotta time watchin' you from my perch, that's all."

Jake snorts out a laugh, his fingers reaching out to Bradley's thigh and squeezing. Bradley knows it's an old jab, an emptier one now that they're solid, but there's something familiar about it, too. Comforting, almost, to remember what it felt like to jump and follow Jake's lead that first time.

(And again, and again, and again.)

"What if this goes south, y'know?" Jake asks, shrugging. "This feels like a big thing. A real thing, you and me. I've never wanted real before. But now we've got it and I'm - Christ, Bradley, what if somethin' happens? What if the job fucks this up? What if life fucks this up? What if we do this for real and we find out we ain't any good together at all?"

Bradley hums, sitting with that for a moment. Eventually, he reaches over for Jake's hand and holds it tightly, thumbing over his knuckles as he thinks it over. He gets it. Completely gets it. Every fear Jake has is one that Bradley's had for weeks.

(For years, maybe, if he's being honest with himself.)

Finally, he turns in his seat to face Jake, lifting his leg so that the angle's easier, knee resting uncomfortably on the console between them. "We've been through hell together," Bradley says simply, holding Jake's gaze. "Hell, Jake, we've been the cause of that hell for each other sometimes."

Jake scoffs. "Dunno what you're talkin' about. I have always been and will always be an angel."

"Uh-huh," Bradley snorts, rolling his eyes fondly. "Look, all I'm sayin' is - we've put each other through some shit, right? And we've still made it this far. Freaked out, in love, and holdin' hands in your driveway."

"Yeah. Quite the pair," Jake agrees, tilting his head a little as he squints. His teeth worry at the inside of his bottom lip for a beat, shoulders shrugging as he presses, "So...?"

"So," Bradley continues, "we're stubborn as hell. Better at fighting than anything - well, almost anything else."

Jake's eyes twinkle. "Almost."

Bradley grins, squeezing Jake's hand. "If we can make it this far without fuckin' everything up ourselves, how the hell could anything else even come close, y'know? I get what you're saying. I really do. But - I think we're gonna find out we are that good together, and that's gonna be the scariest part of all."

Jake hums, eyes falling to Bradley's lips and lifting again. He takes a breath and exhales it slowly, shifting so his arm is resting over the back of the seat. Bradley relaxes into Jake's touch when he feels his hand against his neck, thumb brushing over the line of his jaw before it's pressed against the fullest point of his lower lip.

"I love you," Bradley says again, pressing a kiss to the pad of Jake's thumb. "Let's do this for real."

Leaning forward, Jake brushes their lips together once, twice, three times. The gentle presses make Bradley's lips tingle more than any other kiss ever has. When he pulls back to meet Bradley's eyes again, he's smiling.

"That a yes?" Bradley asks.

Jake snorts. "It's a yes. Let's do this."

Bradley surges forward for another kiss, feeling more than hearing Jake's 'love you' as their lips meet. His leg is still pressed uncomfortably against the console between them, skin tingling as his foot goes to sleep, but it's a distant sensation, muted by the joy he feels thrumming beneath his skin.

Jake loves him back. They're doing this for real.

Nothing else comes close to that feeling.

[star-girl69]

Cruel World

Shin Hati x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: swearing, mentions of death and violence, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Two - Wretched Mirrors

Chapter Two - Wretched Mirrors

—-

There is a fine line between the worlds you have known. Sometimes, you wonder if it’s wrong to be like this, to search for power and materialistic things, but this is all you have ever known.

You are a wretched mirror of your mother, destined to reflect her and her wants.

You have gotten a taste of the cruel life, and you don’t want it. And if you don’t fight it, how will you cross that fine line? How will you get back to your old life?

The ruins are covered in fine black sand, random spots still burning. Random parts of old homes, with cracks in the walls lay strewn about the ground. You cannot help but wonder if those cracks were born of people living inside a well-loved home, or apart of the doom of the Nightsisters.

Shin kicks the ground, still adorned in her armor and a brown cloak- a wretched mirror of her master.

You crouch and pick up some of the black sand. It’s warm from the sun. You wonder if another Nightsister, hundreds of years ago, had done the same thing.

“What was this place?” Shin asks, stirring up dirt as she stands next to you. You squint up at her.

“The planet of Dathomir. Home to the Nightsisters.” You flick your hand, sending a small whirl of sand flying in a flash of green. “My ancestors.”

She watches the specks of sand fall back to the ground, before her eyes meet yours, a cutting glare.

“You’re a witch?”

“Yes,” you say, tilting your head to the side with a sticky-sweet smile. She glares at you and tilts her chin down, studying you, and it makes your stomach twist as much as it annoys you.

Your mother turns around, her eyes meeting yours, and you stand up, wind whipping your in your face.

“We are survivors,” she says to Shin. She turns back around as Baylan and a droid approaches.

You shoot one more sly smile to a now very disturbed Shin before listening to Baylan.

“There’s not much left back there,” he says, referring to the temple that held the star map. “Either the Jedi has the map or it was vaporized.”

You can see your mothers shoulders tense, and you heart squeezes, but she quickly regains herself and you try to do the same.

Shin takes a few careful steps forward, and you lean against the fallen pillar of some long forgotten building.

“She has it.”

“Well, if she does, you’re lucky.”

Morgan turns to Baylan, her grey-blonde hair shining in the sunlight.

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” she hisses. “Fate has decided our next move.”

She turns around to you and Shin. Her eyes are cold and calculating, always planning the next move so you don’t have to.

“You both will go to the planet Lothal.” Her eyes fix to you, and she smiles, if you can even call it that. More like some sort of promise. “May the Winged Goddess be with you, my daughter.”

“Mother-” you start, but your voice is eaten up by the wind, and she is already gone.

She walks off towards the ruins, leaving you slightly confused and shocked. Shin can surely do whatever it is herself, right? Why can’t you stay with your mother? What is on Lothal?

Shin seems to have the same questions, because she approaches Baylan. The two of them watch Morgan walk away, and you have to urge to kick the ground like a crying child.

“Master?”

“Do as she says.”

“Why Lothal?” she looks at you over her shoulder. “What thread is she spinning?”

“No, it’s not witchcraft,” Baylan sighs. “Ahsoka Tano’s former apprentice is on Lothal. You’re looking for Sabine Wren.”

Baylan meets Shin’s eyes, then yours, and the emptiness inside of you lights up with a fire at the sound of the Jedi’s name. The woman you imprisoned you and you mother- who has led you to this cruel new reality.

You flex your fingers, and Shin brushes the handle of her lightsaber, nodding to you as she walks past. And after a moment, you follow her.

—-

The ship is small and practical, but the memories of your mother’s look ring in your mind. It was a silent promise. Not to you, but one to her. Without even knowing it, you had promised to bring back the star map- but you didn’t even now if you could.

The droid takes over the ship, leaving you and Shin to sit in silence as you get closer and closer to Lothal.

You can feel her piercing eyes on you, judging you, and finally you turn to her after you’re sick of feeling like this. You already feel on edge, this test from your mother making you nervous and doubtful.

“What?” you spit after a moment. Her eyes remain wide and on you, her expression unchanging. “I’m not gonna use my magick on you if you look away, you know.”

She looks you up and down. “I know.”

You scoff and turn away. Both her and her master are overfilling with arrogance.

“Because your mother and my master are in an agreement. Which means we are too.”

You turn to her and level your best glare, but it’s nothing compared to hers. “And? Stop staring at me.”

“I’m wondering how your powers will work in battle.”

You shuffle your feet against the floor, crossing your arms, again feeling like a spoiled stupid child.

Your mother did not have a lot of time to teach you offensive magick. When the Empire fell, she had only taught you a bit beyond the basics- and now she was testing to see what you had learned.

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter. You don’t know if you will.

You did grow up spoiled and entitled, but this new cruel world has changed you more than you could ever imagine. After the death of the Nightsisters, you mother already had some sort of prebuilt humility, humanity inside of her. But she had buried it down. She had used that pain to make a life for you and her.

You were learning that hard lesson now.

“We’re close to Lothal, now,” Shin says, leaning back into her chair, a rare moment of softness for her. “We’ll send out the probe and then make a plan from there.”

You blink hard and try to take a subtle deep breath. It’s embarrassing to be like this in front of her. To be stupid and childish, to let simple feelings rise to the surface and effect your actions.

But something about her stupid blue eyes makes you feel at peace.

—-

You land on Lothal, waiting in the rustling brush for the probe droid to return. Here, back on solid ground, neither of you talk.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both young girls around the same age. It’s natural for you to be drawn together, two girls raised in between knives, brought up learning how to jump each serrated edge. And for all of the venom your tongue spits, you don’t bear any ill-will towards her.

Why jump from knife to knife when you can land on a silver spoon?

The probe flys up the hill and towards the two of you. Shin looks at her arm, the decide beeping, her cloak blowing in the wind.

“What is it?” you ask, eager to get this all over with.

“Sabine Wren,” she says simply. And you follow her, saying a prayer to the Winged Goddess that she knows what she’s doing- and you do as well.

—-

taglist:

@foreverforlove @squidshark5 @lovelyy-moonlight

[beanxiv]

i'll always be here ; leviathan

summary: when levi succumbs to his sin, there's only one person who can successfully reassure him

word count: 0.9k

note: something other than bnha finally surfacing on my blog!! it's an old piece which is the only reason i'm actually able to post this rn

warnings: none!

“i want to say i can’t believe he’s locked himself in his room again, but i would be lying.” lucifer sighed.

”we didn’t even say anything to him this time! he just got up and ran to his room,” asmo knocked on leviathan’s door for the fifth time.

”he’s probably just playing video games or something.” mammon shrugged, “i mean, he does this almost every single day. what’s different this time?”

beel frowned, ”he looked sad this time... if he was playing video games wouldn’t he be happy?”

belphie nodded, ”and it’s not like we can ask him, he won’t answer any of us.”  

“i tried texting him, but he won’t even answer his D.D.D.” satan gestured to the device in his hand.

”maybe mc can get him out? he normally listens to them, right?” asmo offered. “they might be able to figure out what’s wrong.”

satan nodded, ”good idea. i’ll text them to come over.” 

in barely five minutes you reached the third-born’s room and didn’t hesitate to question the boys, “did you guys say anything to him?”

mammon shook his head, ”no! we were all in the living room hangin’ out, you were there! and then when ya left to use the bathroom, levi just got up and stormed off into his room!” 

you thought for a moment, “alright, you guys go back to the living room, i’ll figure out what’s wrong, okay?”

lucifer sighed, “do your best.”

you nodded, and the brothers all left to the living room. once they were far enough you knocked on the otaku’s door.

”levi? it’s mc, can i come in?”

he was silent for a moment, but finally he asked, ”what’s the password?”

“the second lord...” you started.

after finishing the line, your heard shuffling from inside the room and the doorknob clicked and twisted, leviathan opened the door a crack to make sure you weren’t there with his brothers. when he was sure you were the only one, he opened the door wider to let you in.

”thank you.” you followed behind him and sat down on the floor in one of the beanbags. the tv was on and one if levi’s rpg games was loading on the screen.

levaithan silently sat next to you, handing you the second controller. you assumed something was going on, but levi just didn’t want to talk about it yet. so you decided to play with him until he was comfortable.

after a few minutes leviathan set his controller down, “m-mc, do you like my brothers more than me? i understand if you do, they’re all cool and stuff... and i’m just a gross, jealous otaku shut-in.”

oh. so that's what this was about.

you frowned, “of course not, levi. what gave you that impression?”

“you always hang with them more than me.”

you smiled softly, ”first of all, you’re not gross, levi. but being an otaku is amazing, are you saying that it’s a bad thing?”

the demon shook his head frantically, “n-no!! of course not! being an otaku is cool!”

you giggled at his response, “see? and, as for being a shut in? that’s fine, levi. so what if you don’t like being around other people? who cares?”

leviathan looked down, picking at a loose thread from the beanbag with a frown. ”but whenever we hang out, it’s always in either your room or mine, wouldn’t you want to go out more often rather than stay inside all the time?”

you shook your head, ”i don’t hang out with you because i want to be outside, levi. i hang with you because i want to be with you. if you’re more comfortable indoors, then that’s where we’ll hang out. it doesn’t matter to me where we stay as long as you’re comfortable.”

leviathan just nodded, his lips quirking into a small smile. “i knew i had the best henry a demon could ask for.” he turned to the fish tank, “no offense to you, henry 2.0.”

“are you feeling better now?” you asked.

leviathan nodded, “thank you, mc.”

you laughed, “of course, i’ll always be here to talk— or play games— anytime you need me, okay levi?” 

“okay, mc.”

you laid your head on his shoulder, he tensed up at first, but slowly relaxed.

“maybe you’re not as much of a normie as i thought.” levi said softly.

”me? a normie? levi don’t make me cringe.” you gasped, feigning disgust.

underneath your head, his shoulder rose and fell with his lighthearted laugh, “sorry i won’t make that mistake again, henry.”

”good to hear, my lord of shadows.” 

© beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.