#And I needed an 8” telescope to see even that. I couldn’t find her in the binos

[ocdhuacheng]

This is so cute. She is a darling

[sugar-quilled]

ron weasley x reader

request

a/n: i slipped from the topic a little bit, pretty sure what i wrote isn't teasing, and if you'd like me to change it just tell me :)

summary: While visiting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron's clothes get sucked into a machine. All of them, except for his boxers.

genre: comedy and (im not sure if this counts as fluff but) fluff

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: not used

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Diagon Alley was packed, as it always was at the start of a term. Underneath a beautifully clear sky, students were seen hurrying to purchase potion ingredients and new robes. Those that had already purchased the items on their Hogwarts list were seen crowding around a new and extremely flashy building.

The store front was painted in a shocking orange color, with a large figure standing inside a window and tipping his top hat to the surrounding crowd below. In neat, gold printing, the store was identified to be none other than Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

You entered through the door amongst other eager shoppers, and immediately heard a circus-like music, coupled with the chatter of about 50 people.

Shelves on shelves of brightly colored goods and at least 4 oddly built staircases met your eyes. Immediately to your left was a brightly colored display of candy. Your walked closer, and Fred and George Weasley popped out from a counter nearby.

"Taking a look at those nosebleed nougats are you, Y/N?"

"We've got samples over here if you like-"

"Just eat the red and you'll see the red!"

"And one bite of the other side will stop it just like that."

"And fever fudge!"

"There's only a bit of those puking pastilles left, clearly we're due for a restock, Fred."

"Well, Y/N, welcome to our shop and go enjoy yourself! Call us if you need any help and we'll be right by your side in a jiffy. Now come on, George, one kid over there looks mightily suspicious."

You smiled after the twins' backs, not even angry that they hadn't let you get a word in, when you spotted Ron Weasley taking a look at Headless Hats—now on sale for 1 galleon and 8 sickles! Your previous conversation (could you even call it a conversation?) with the twins immediately left your brain and you made your way over.

Ron had been a long time crush of yours. In fact, the two year anniversary of your feelings was yesterday, and you celebrated by having a whole-hearted sobbing fest while your friends stared awkwardly at each other and tried to console you. Not that your friendship wasn't something to be happy about, but Merlin you just wished you could hold his hand. Romantically. You didn't think Ron could ever like you, what with his being best friends with Hermione Granger who was both insanely smart and jaw-droppingly gorgeous.

"Ron! It's nice to see you!"

He immediately swung around and burst into a very toothy grin. "Y/N! It's nice to see you too! What's up?"

You smiled back. "Nothing much! Your brothers' shop is gorgeous! The, uhh, those nosebleed nougats are really fascinating. And you? How was your summer?"

Ron put a headless hat down and strode closer to you to check out a row of punching telescopes. "Quite uneventful, to be honest. But yeah this stuff they came up with? Have you seen the smart-answer quills? Blimey I'd never have to ask Hermione for help again! And those fainting fancies. Reckon Snape'll believe one of those?"

You laughed. "Are you planning to faint during a lecture? It's our N.E.W.T year, you'll need all the information you can get."

Just then, Fred and George appeared right behind you.

"Having a good conversation, Ron?" Fred said cheerfully, elbowing Ron in the ribs—"Ow, Fred leave us alone!"—"Do you two want to check out the back?"

"Just don't steal anything, Y/N," George winked.

"Unless that something is Ron's heart," Fred muttered. Or you thought he muttered. But the twins' expressions had been wiped blank so that you couldn't tell whether Fred had really said it, and Ron had busied himself in untangling two extendable ears, so whether he had blushed or hadn't, you also couldn't tell.

"Lead the way, George!" Fred chortled, and swept away.

"Alright then. Right this way, you two!"

George led you and Ron, whose mouth seemed to be clamped shut, weaving past shelves higher than you to a door at the very back of the store. A small plaque on the door said: "Weasleys Working: In Progress." He twisted open the door, and beckoned both of you in. Right in front of you was a huge lab and packaging station. You could see potions brewing to your right, and to your left, there were two witches packaging a box of puking pastilles.

"So," George started, "welcome to our work station! Y/N, you might have seen a big gray thing over there upon entrance." He pointed. You looked. "That is actually something we've just installed in and its a bit of muggle machinery. Michelle and Rosalyn over there," he nodded towards the two witches, "used to have to do all the wand work manually but this big old thing makes some parts automatic. Quite useful!"

You stared at the big metal machine. There was a sort of chute at one end, and a big pipe leading up and into the ceiling.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, and Michelle and Rosalyn," he called, "would you mind helping me out in the main area? Fred's left to check on the upstairs, and there's too many people waiting in line for purchasing." George gave Ron a ginormous wink, and left the room. The door swung back and clicked to a close.

You walked over to the muggle machine, very aware of Ron trailing behind you.

"Blimey, that thing's big. What does it even do?"

"I don't know, it looks like something that deposits goods into this bin under it. I'm not really sure where the goods come from though."

Ron circled the massive thing twice, and the second time, he tripped over a wire. Thankfully, he managed to stand himself upright with one hand leaning on the machine.

You laughed at him, and he looked embarrassedly back with a forced chuckle.

Then there was a loud whirring noise, and as Ron turned around in fright, the thing began sucking.

You were wrong. It didn't deposit things. It took them to be deposited.

With a frantic yell and many grabs at a nearby table, Ron's clothes ripped off. The machine sent them rattling through the chute and the whirring noise came to a stop.

Well. Not all of his clothes.

Ron was left standing in a pair of heart adorned boxers. Red hearts.

He tried his best to cover himself, but seeing as he only had two hands and more than two things on display, it was quite difficult.

You realized that you were staring and quickly looked away.

Ron was carefully looking at anywhere but your face.

After quite a long time's silence, your croaked out, "nice boxers, uh... dude," while looking at the ceiling. A giggle escaped despite your attempts at keeping it in, and you were sure Ron's face now matched the color of his hair.

"If you tell this to Gred- I mean, Fred or Gor- George, I'll-" he started shakily, "I'll die."

Seeing as he wasn't threatening you and assuming this meant friendly conversation could be engaged, you stammered, "they really suit you. You know, the red and all. Although I'd suggest a green pair next time. Because of the color wheel and those two are compl-"

Ron had burst into shaky, suppressed laughter.

"Never- never mind my fashion choices, how the bloody hell am I supposed to get my clothes back?"

"Well I don't see why you want them back. I mean think of the ladies you'd get by walking down the street with this lovely attire. Maybe for accessories you can add a bit more red by eating a nosebleed nougat, I'm sure I saw a few when I entered."

Both of you were laughing now, but a yell of shock from upstairs made both of you jolt.

"Oh no, no, no," Ron muttered, darting his eyes around as if trying to find a hiding spot, "Fred's upstairs, he knows what I was wearing, oh no, no-"

The door swung open. Fred was standing in the doorway looking highly amused.

"Ron, I thought you said you'd never wear those! Aunty Muriel will be pleased her present wasn't a waste of money!" Fred exclaimed, striding into the room and circling Ron, who was shaking fiercely. "They do compliment your hair, maybe I'll have to borrow the pair one day."

You choked back a laugh, bursting a vein for sure, when Fred rounded on you.

"I didn't know you two were already on this level of your relationship. Looks like Ron here neglected to tell me some bits!" Fred said cheerfully, waving his wand so that Ron looked perfectly normal again, except that his entire face was now the same color as the hearts on the boxers underneath the normality.

"Well I daresay you two have looked around, I was up there nearly 10 minutes," Fred continued, gesturing towards the door, "and Y/N, regrettably we have no products that erase recent memories-"

"Shut up," Ron muttered, walking towards the door.

"-but the idea is certainly a brilliant one and I'll be sure to start developing it." Fred gave a hearty wink as both Ron and you had exited the room, and closed the door.

You looked at Ron. He looked back.

"Well you know I never said I wanted to erase that memory. You did look quite marvelous."

Ron laughed, though his face still looked like he supported the UK Quidditch team.

"You should really take my suggestion of that green pair, and I wouldn't mind seeing how that looks either."

Both of you doubled over in laughter.

"And," you choked, "a pair of shoes to match wouldn't hurt either, though I daresay you'd rather go barefoot? Shoes shouldn't be worn to bed, after all."

There were definitely tears coming out your eyes now, and the two of you stumbled drunkily, still shaking with laughter, out the shop and down the ever so full streets of Diagon Alley.

[starcrossedyanderes]

Would Rygel take his darling stargazing?

Yesssss

I’m sorry I just love it when I get requests that fit my ‘aesthetic’. I decided to take my own twist on this request so it turned into this. Also with this picrew Rygel has much darker skin but this was the darkest skin tone in this picrew.

“We have an event tonight.”

You quirked an eyebrow at Rygel’s words.

“When did you do events?”

“I must admit I usually abhor going to such required events. But I believe we shall find this one to be quite enjoyable.”

A smile actually pulled at Rygel’s lips as he looked down at you from his 6’9” stature. You felt a phantom hand caress your cheek; no doubt from Rygel’s own psychic abilities.

“Besides I think now is an excellent time to go ‘public’, don’t you agree?”

The hold on your cheek tightened.

“I expect that it has been long enough for you to have come to terms with my.. actual identity. And with that the expectations and status of you being my moonlight. I trust that you shall live up to these expectations, yes?”

The way his mind and eyes drilled into yours had you give out a meek “yes.”.

Rygel’s aura immediately lightened up and the feeling on your cheek disappeared only to be replace by the feeling of your whole body being gently squeezed; Rygel’s form of an affectionate hug and sign of approval.

Rygel bended down to your height to place a chaste kiss on your lips as the feeling of other kisses being placed all over your face accompanied it. You even felt some of your hair be lifted up and twirled.

“I’ll have a car pick you up at 8:30 and I believe the money I have just provided you should suffice for preparing for a formal event. Oh, and do be sure to wear the circlet I gifted you earlier. It is only fitting with your status being announced and all.”

Rygel pulled away with his flowy purple hair slightly ticking you. He started to walk towards the exit before suddenly turning around to face you again.

“Oh and one more thing my moonlight. Try and make yourself look as good as you truly are. In other words, perfect.”

~|~

After hitting up the mall you finally stood in back home in front of your full length mirror striking poses. Like, dang, you look good. You don’t know if this is how good you truly are, but dang is this as close to perfect as it gets.

Except for a teeny-tiny issue. Your circlet. How does one even wear such a thing? You just couldn’t get it sit quite right, look quite right, or anything! You just don’t know how to circlet!

And of course it was at that time you heard the opening of a car door.

Crud.

You would have to fix it in the car as you only had time to grab your purse and book it down to the car before Rygel blows up the planet or something.

You didn’t even pay attention to the chauffeur who held open the door for me as you scrambled in.

Of course like the idiot you were this also meant you didn’t notice that Rygel was also in the car with you.

There his majesty sat, for the first time legitimately speechless. Even you could practically feel the change in the mind pheromones thing. There clad in his suit and own matching circlet the Emperor sat truly admiring all that is you. It was times like these he remembered why exactly you were his destined one.

His eyes even became hooded!

“Darling, you look positively ravishing. Yes, I do believe this is the definition of perfection itself.”

As you buckled yourself in your face blushed as you let out a meek “thank you.”. But in classic Rygel fashion his face returned to mostly normal as if he hadn’t just said such out-of-character things. 

It was with a slight chuckle at your positively adorable behavior that the car started up to wherever the heck you were headed.

As always the car ride with your ‘betrothed’ was almost completely silent since Rygel was never very talkative.

During this extended time you couldn’t help but to continuously fiddle with the garment on your head which just.. wouldn’t.. sit.. right! You had no idea how long you were trying to get it right before you were met with Rygel’s rich voice.

“Let me.”

You arms quickly fell down to your sides by both of your minds commands as Rygel lifted the circlet from your hair. You felt portions of your hair float into the sky as Rygel brushed your hair in certain directions before digging some pins out of his pocket. 

“I always find pins to work best at keeping these in place. I never really use them though but I try to keep them on me at all times just for cases like these.”

It is with a few flourishes of his hands that the circlet was perfectly placed in your hair.

“Rygel..I.. Thank you!”

A sudden pull was administered on your waist as you fell into his chest. A large inhale was heard as Rygel took in the smell of your hair. A smile tugged at his lips as he placed a kiss onto your lockes.

“It is no issue. I pride making myself and others look presentable. Besides, I’m sure you’ll become more comfortable with putting on a circlet later. I’ll send you some info about how it is typically worn.”

“I would appreciate that.”

You sat in a comfortable silence before you broke it.

“Hey, where exactly are we going?”

“We’re going to an observatory where some of my people are holding an event in honor of us soon leaving this accursed place.”

Rygel truly was a master at saying sentences with a lot to unpack.

You turned to face him.

“Hold up? Your people? Aren’t they all supposed to be in space or something?”

Rygel let out a hum as you felt your hair mindlessly float about you.

“Well of course most of them are indeed in space but a few like me have infiltrated Earth and have made lives for themselves. Such as my foster family.”

“Are you telling me there’s a bunch of aliens walking around us in plain sight without anyone knowing?”

Rygel shrugged as a playful smirk pulled at his lips.

“Perhaps. I mean, I did manage to fool everyone for what? 18 years?”

At his remark you let out a few mumbles which only earned you a smile and pat on the head.

“You truly think the most hilarious things, my dear.”

~|~

“Isn’t it a bit much to.. float?”

The two of you were currently going up the stairs to the observatory with your small hand being engulfed by his slender, graceful one.

“Absolutely not. It is a show of status and is simply much more enjoyable than walking. I will never understand you humans. Why walk when you can simply float everywhere?”

“Because we can’t float.”

Rygel frowned slightly at that. 

“Ah, yes. Pity. Really moonlight what ever would you do without me.”

“Walk.”

With a smirk you rose right up to him. His smirk seemed to widen even more once you clung to him to catch your balance.

“This.. is weird.”

“Just wait until you try dancing like this. Actually, stay like this on me for the rest of the night. I would hate for a small accident to occur.”

That was a lie and you knew it. He just liked you like this. But even so you couldn’t imagine how you would ever be able to dance on this invisible floor beneath you.

~|~

“Is that his imperial highness?”

“He’s so tall.”

“And so.. pretty...”

Rygel let out a quiet sigh only you seemed to hear.

“And all of the sudden I remember why I don’t enjoy such events.”

You had to agree with his sentiment once walking past an uncomfortable amount of gazes. How did they even know who you both were?

It’s probably because you’re the only two wearing circlets and floating that high off the ground. Curse that fancy headpiece!

The two of you began to walk deeper into the dome where the large telescope could be seen.

But you were quickly interrupted.

“Oh! Your imperial highness! How wonderful it is to see you!”

You could tell by the change of Rygel’s aura that his mood had quickly soured.

“Ah, Devah.”

Out of the corner of your eye you could both see Rygel’s strained smile and 2 glasses floating your way.

As the glass landed in your hands Rygel slightly turned to you.

“This is one of the main sponsors of the missions on Earth.”

Devah put on way too cheery of a smile as he hissed out a whisper; as if he was making sure you could not hear.

“And is it alright if I ask but what exactly is a human doing here?”

Rygel’s golden eyes flashed as his grip tightened on you and his mind readied for a strike.

“She is my mate. If you are not as dimwitted as I thought then you should know that things such as species has no effect on who a person’s mate is. Human or not, she is your empress and you shall treat her as such.”

As the aliens face paled it dawned on you that Rygel may be invisibly choking like in Star Wars.

“Y-yes, my apology your imperial highness.”

Rygel raised a purple eyebrow at this as the man jerked into a bow as yellow energy surrounded him.

“Highness?”

“Y-yes your imperial highnesses.”

Rygel actually let out a smile at this.

“Much better. But I think we’ll just leave you like this for the rest of the night. Perhaps it will help you remember your status. Come now, my darling.”

You were pulled away from the bowing alien by Rygel’s long strides towards the large telescope; the focal point of the room.

As Rygel peered in and gave some slight adjustments to the machinery you took a sip from the glass in front of you only to pull back in shock.

This was a new taste for sure. Despite scowering your mind’s attic of a memory you could not place such a taste anywhere. You were honestly kind of scared to ask what the drink was made because of the possible response being blood.

And you kinda needed to know if this was alcholic.

“Um.. Hey, Emperor?”

Rygel let out a mere hum as his only indication of hearing you as his psychic energy caressed you.

“What exactly is this drink? And is it alcholic?”

Rygel let out a light chuckle as his golden eyes continued to look through the lens.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t alcholic. I know you technically aren’t of age to drink here but you’re always more than welcome to. Beauty of world domination and all.”

You hated how he says such awful things so eloquently.

“What you are currently holding, my dear moonlight, is a drink that is drived from one my home planet’s natural fruits. I believe in your language it would be pronounced as the xoqub fruit. Care to look?”

Rygel pulled away from the telescope to give you your turn at the stars. As your eyes peered in you continue your questions.

“How did you even get that stuff here? That has to take forever to ship out.”

“It does take quite a bit to get here but it is admittedly faster than transporting life forms. We actually do a mix of getting some delivered, growing it ourselves here, and just using food replicators.”

“HOL UP YOU GUYS HAVE REPLI-”

“If you point it more this way you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Rygel prematurely interrupted you by moving the telescope slightly.

“This is the closest point this telescope can get to our planet. It can be seen far past this point.”

You were the one to actually shut yourself up as you stared deeply at that tiny little point.

“It’s really that far away?”

“Yes. It is at least a one month journey to reach there. We will also have a few days added on as we will be making a few stops along the way for various things and your own enjoyment.”

You looked up from the vast before you.

“My own enjoyment?”

“This will be your first time into space, yes? I figured you could at least see some of your new territories. I also have some things to take care of at these places anyway. We’re mainly stopping at the Europa colony and this area by the Kupier belt. After that it’s a non stop journey.”

You turned to look back at all the stars.

“It’s weird.. to think I’ll be riding through the stars and going to places humans have never gone before. But it’s all so.. pretty.”

Rygel hummed as he took a sip from his own glass. 

“And all that ‘pretty’ shall be ours, my moonlight.”

[harvestdew]

Yo sorry if this question takes a while to awnser, but if Cleo and Kiki were NPCs what do you think thief heart events will be like? If you don't want to awnser this that's fine, I'm just curious.

no problem! i actually need a break from my essay anyway i wrote 4 pages and it took me 5 hours/made me stressed, so this is a good way to decompress for me!

kiki’s 2 heart event - standard, boring 2 heart event... enter pelican town on a sunny day anywhere from 9am to 4pm. you see kiki on her way out of pierre’s and her grocery bag breaks. you have 4 options:

ask “are you okay?” and help her (+30 friendship). kiki is embarrassed someone saw her, but says “thank you so much for helping me! that was pretty funny, wasn’t it? i guess i bought too much”

“i didn’t see anything” (no effect on friendship). kiki just laughs it off

ignore her/do nothing (no effect on friendship). kiki goes “...” before telling herself she’s so clumsy and running off

“wow, that was dumb of you.” (-50 friendship) kiki, trying to remain deadpan, responds “yeah, you’re right”

kiki’s 4 heart event - (similar to leah’s 4 heart event) enter kiki’s house when she’s there. for some reason, she doesn’t notice you entered and you hear someone else talking unintelligibly on the landline, but she isn’t responding. after a while, she hangs up without saying anything, notices you, and jumps, asking “have you been here the whole time?” you have 3 options:

lie and say “i just got here” (no effect on friendship). kiki sighs and says “oh, okay. that’s good”

"who was that?” (no effect on friendship). kiki goes “...” and tells you it was just an annoying telemarketer. then she asks if she can help you with anything

"are you okay?” (+20 friendship). kiki tells you she just got an unwanted call from someone she doesn’t want to talk to but doesn’t elaborate. she mentions being worried someone’s going to come over, then realizes you’re still there and laughs it off as a joke, trying to cover it up with a random fact about tulips

kiki’s 6 heart event - (similar to haley’s 6 heart event) enter the cindersap forest from 5pm to 9pm while it’s raining. kiki spots you (“!”) and asks for help, explaining her cat (ghost) ran away because she didn’t properly lock her door and the storm blew it open (this literally happened to me and my cat didn’t come home for 3 days LOL). she explains how important her cat is to her. you have 2 options:

"i’ll help you find him!” (+30 friendship)

“just get another cat?” (-30 friendship)

either way, you can walk around the cindersap forest and click on a bunch of shrubs. the cat will come out of one of them and you bring it back to her. kiki hugs you and says she felt too guilty to ask anyone else for help. she also points out because it was raining you should go back inside before you get sick, so she offers to walk you home 

also: fun fact the farmer replaces sebastian in here because this was something i wrote for him, but it feels like a good 6 heart one imo

kiki’s 8 heart event - done here!

kiki’s 10 heart event - (similar to emily and maru’s) you get a letter in the mail from kiki that says something along the lines “come by the forest tonight!” if you enter the cindersap forest from anytime between 7pm to 11pm ONLY during the summer you’ll trigger the event. it turns out she wanted to look at constellations with you and borrowed maru’s telescope. kiki starts talking about how she was figuring out how to make up for you finding her cat but didn’t want to do anything boring. you only have 1 option:

"wait, is this a date?” (no effect on friendship)

kiki gets MEGA embarrassed, explaining she thought it was obvious but isn’t going to be mad if you don’t like her. you now have 3 options:

"wait, i do like you!” (no effect on friendship). kiki goes, “seriously? you mean it? i’m so happy!” and you resume the date. before the cutscene ends, she has you look at some stars and explains the story of altair & vega which originated in china (“have you heard about the story of altair and vega? it’s about a cowherd and a weaver girl who fell in love but were separated by a river which is supposed to be the milky way. it’s sad, but once a year a bunch of magpies form a bridge and they reunite. romantic, right?”)

“i’m sorry, i don’t like you” (no effect on friendship). kiki tells you she understands, explaining you’re just as good of a friend and will be fine

“ew” (-30 on friendship). kiki sighs and tells her she better return maru’s telescope

as for cleo i have no idea if cleo would be a marriageable npc... we’ll see. let’s get to her heart events though (excluding her 10 heart event)

cleo’s 2 heart event - enter cleo’s room whenever she’s in there. cleo asks why you didn’t knock out of annoyance, but gets over it to complain she smells like fish (because she’s a fisherwoman LOL). you have 2 options:

“if you hate the smell of fish so much, why are you a fisherman?” (no effect on friendship). cleo explains she picks up fishing because that’s the 1 condition kiki has if she wants to stay with her free of rent. she complains about her cousin for trying to teach her some work ethic, then goes on to say she can’t wait til she and whatever sam’s band is called gets famous and she can stop fishing

“not my problem” (-30 friendship). cleo gets irritated and tells you “look, i didn’t ask to be a fisherwoman, okay? i hate farming and mining doesn’t make that much money. why are you even in here?”

cleo’s 4 heart event - enter pelican town any time during the day when it’s sunny. you overhear haley berating cleo with a magazine (even though they’re friends), who asks why she never mentioned she modeled. cleo gets annoyed and tells haley to back off because she doesn’t want to talk about it. you have 2 options:

do absolutely nothing (-30 friendship). haley finally walks off; cleo looks at you and goes, “what are you looking at? don’t listen to stuff that isn’t any of your business”

tell haley to stop (+30 friendship). haley sighs and apologizes to cleo for being nosey and leaves. cleo awkwardly thanks you and says something offhand like “i guess you’re cool” before running off

make up an excuse to pull cleo aside like “cleo, i don’t get how to use my fishing rod, can you help?” (+50 friendship). cleo thanks you for not making a huge scene and sighs. she explains haley figured out how used to be a model and wouldn’t stop asking why she quit. she also mentions she knows you probably want to know and claims it’s just “stupid personal garbage” and “the modeling industry is shit”

cleo’s 6 heart event - enter cleo’s room whenever she’s in there again. you find her mumbling to herself out of annoyance before she notices you and greets you. then, she explains she just figured out that everyone in her old band seems to be doing really well and she’s worried they’re going to get a gig for the band SHE started. you have 2 options:

ask “what band?” (no effect on friendship). cleo explains her mom wouldn’t let her go to a gig for the band to punish her, leaving them without a bassist. she says when she snuck out to go, the lead guitarist had immediately replaced her and decided to kick her out of the band, which is why cleo ran away out of humiliation. plus, she thinks their new music sounds like shit 

“who cares? you don’t need them!” (+30 friendship). cleo goes silent before telling you you’re SO right and tells you that good-for-nothing guitarist that kicked her out wasn’t even that good of a guitarist!

“maybe you were a bad bassist” (-50 friendship). cleo gets defensive and tells she was a perfectly good bassist. then she sighs and says she wonders if she’s not as good as she thinks she is and should just stick to fishing, before telling you to get out

cleo’s 8 heart event - (similar to sam’s 8 heart event) cleo shows up to your door when you wake up and gives you a flyer for a battle of the bands in zuzu city. the next day, you go to the venue with cleo and she realizes she’s going up against her old band before freaking out. she tells you she doesn’t know what to do because she’s scared she’ll mess up and prove them right. you have 3 options:

"you can do this!” (+50 friendship). cleo tells you that’s cheesy but you’re right. she goes on to say “screw all of them! i don’t care!”

“who cares? show them what they’re missing!” (+50 friendship). cleo gets pumped and agrees with you before saying, “ugh, what was i thinking? i don’t care what any of them think”

"don’t be a baby” (no effect on friendship). cleo goes “ugh” before begrudgingly admitting you’re right

either way, you get to hear them play like in sam’s 8 heart event. it should correspond with whatever music genre you chose for him in his own events. sam’s band also wins and cleo makes fun of her old band. the lead guitarist gets annoyed and tries to fight with her over it. you have 2 options:

“get him cleo!” (no effect on friendship). cleo punches the lead guitarist off the screen the way pierre punches morris at the community center

“ignore him, he’s just a loser” (no effect on friendship). cleo says she guesses taking the higher road is better and doesn’t wanna mess up her hands

regardless of what option you pick, at the end of the cutscene, cleo thanks your farmer for encouraging her not to giving up and how she couldn't have done it w/o your help

okay that’s it! i’m sorry for taking so long to write this, but i hope it was interesting and i promise really appreciate the ask <3 it was fun to write

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch.4 )

First two chapters

Previous (Ch. 3)

Ch. 4: Stubborn

The evening was spent organizing Amy’s closets. She’d tasked Metal with handing her clothes hangers from across the room as she straightened up her wardrobe and later did the same for him as he stacked her tools back up on the high shelf of her storage space. At least his telescopic arm was coming in useful, even if he could do little more than stand still to avoid losing his balance. 

The dreary day gave way to a clear, chilly evening. Amy invited her house guest to sit on the porch with her for her nightly routine of sipping hot chocolate and stargazing. Glistening snow contradicted the beachy atmosphere, thick white blankets draping over palm trees and obscuring sandy ground. It was perfectly tranquil, silent but for the gentle mechanical whirring of Metal’s body.

Amy sat on a lawn chair wrapped tightly in a velvety blanket, knees to her chest. “If Tails isn’t available to fix you tomorrow, maybe we can at least try to repair your foot so you can stand upright.” 

Metal had planted himself on the seat next to hers. The contrast between his disturbing, sharp figure and her endearing and petite frame was as striking as the scenery. He crossed his busted leg over his good one, assessing the damage to his foot. He was not confident a self-repair would be successful, but it was always a possibility. He turned to her and nodded. Amy’s gentle eyes mirrored the starry sky. The calmness in Metal turned to a moderate excitement at the charming sight and it seemed almost to remind him of something.

“So, Metal, do you remember anything? Like, at all?”

He ripped himself out of his enchantment to process her question. Searching through his fragmented memory turned up thousands of inaccessible files. What little was left held mostly primary data with snippets of information. He found pictures and short bios of people he didn’t recognize and the name “EGGMAN” plastered across a repair protocol. Searching for that name just brought up several more corrupt files.

Metal reached for the tablet-sized whiteboard that was sitting on the garden table in front of them. He wrote down “VERY LITTLE” in his neat, mechanical handwriting and showed it to Amy.

She gazed directly into his eyes now, hoping to find some indication of whether Metal Sonic was being truthful in his unchanging eyes. “Do you remember me?”

Amy had asked him earlier if he recognized her and he denied it in his haste. But spending a few hours with the girl teased his memory like a word at the tip of one’s tongue; Metal was sure he knew her somehow. “FAMILIAR,” he wrote finally.

“Familiar, huh?” Amy finished her warm drink, setting the mug down in front of her. Not surprising, all things considered. But what does he really know? She noticed that Metal was quickly erasing his tablet and writing something new. Amy couldn’t keep herself from gasping when she caught sight of it again.

“WHO IS EGGMAN?”

She jerked the other way, hiding her shock. Does he remember that he works for Eggman? It must be part of his programming or something. I need to tell Tails. She decided to bluff. “Let’s, uh, see if we can find out. I think it’s time for bed.” She shot out of her cozy seat and back into the house before the cold could nip her.

Metal Sonic sat unmoving for a moment, perplexed at her sudden gesture. He propped himself up, tablet still in hand, as he drug his feet through the threshold of the backdoor and slid the door closed as gently as he could manage. He watched Amy toss her blanket over the back of the couch, then adjust and smooth it so it looked only partially like it was thrown there haphazardly. A strange maneuver.

“So, uh, you can go into sleep mode I guess?” She didn’t have the slightest idea what robots did at night or if he even needed to recharge. She was met once again with Metal’s unwavering stare; though it didn’t seem so spooky after the day they’d spent together. “Do you sleep?”

Metal simply nodded. He didn’t exactly sleep, but his instinct was to sit idle for a few hours to conserve energy. He was beginning to find that a close-enough answer would be satisfactory.

Amy was surprised but also relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about him all night. “Oh- Well, is the couch okay?”

He came over and lowered himself onto the sofa, sitting upright and nodding.

“Okay, well- goodni-” Before she could finish, Metal’s eyes had gone dark. I guess that solves that. There was nothing more to do but turn in for the night.

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

The following morning, Amy was startled out of her usual groggy walk into the kitchen when she noticed Metal Sonic’s sharp form sitting at the kitchen table, staring solidly out the back door.  She’d expected to have to wake him up or something but it looked like he had been there for some time. He turned to face her abruptly and her heart jumped once again. 

“Oh, you’re awake- good morning.” Amy chuckled awkwardly.  “Have you… been up long?”

Metal nodded. The morning sunrise activated his sensors. It was closer to 8 AM now and he’d been doing little more than sitting since dawn.

“Sorry, must have been boring.” Amy made her way past him and into the kitchen to make her quick breakfast of toast and coffee. Metal seemed to stare at her the entire time, which made her self-conscious. “I... don’t eat much in the morning,” she explained anxiously . Not sure why he’d care…

Metal Sonic had been analyzing Amy’s every move for the past several minutes. He spent his time awake pondering on the wistful feelings he’d experienced as they sat on the veranda late last night. The exploration of his memory was in vain and he instead tried to force himself to remember, but it was no use. Why was she so familiar? Perhaps observing her would jog his memory.

She took a seat across from him, eating uncomfortably as he looked through her. Amy tried her best to smile. “So, is there anything you’d like to do this morning?”

The robot finally broke his fierce concentration to respond by pointing at his left arm socket.

“Ah…” Amy answered hesitantly. “Tails hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

He pointed down toward his foot instead.

Amy inhaled deeply, nervous about the prospect of trying to make repairs herself. But she had said they could try, so she agreed dubiously. “Let’s give it a shot.”

Metal turned his attention from her to the glass door where some movement caught his eye. Amy followed his gaze, spotting a small bluebird landing on one of her lawn chairs.

“Wow, it’s rare to see them out in the cold. I guess spring is around the corner.” Amy smiled warmly at the sight. It had been an unusually long winter and the small snowstorm that passed the night before wasn’t exactly indicative of the cold subsiding. Yet the evening frost now began puddling over the otherwise tropical scenery. It was always the coldest just before seasons changed. She turned back to her guest enthusiastically. “Let’s fix that leg of yours!”

Optimism soon turned to frustration, however, as the tangle of wires and bent hinges that held the robot’s foot in place confounded her. The neat little workstation she’d set up on her kitchen table was now a messy array of tools and bolts. She’d managed to worsen the damage in the process, but any time Metal would make a sound or reach toward something Amy would huff and snatch tools out of his hand. Getting annoyed himself, Metal finally resolved to pull his entire leg away to keep her from making it any worse. Amy refused to let go of his foot, however, and the last of the wires that were holding the appendage in place finally snapped, severing his foot off his body completely. 

“Ugh- look what you made me do!”

Metal let out a series of high and low beeps that were meant to offend. She returned that with a sour look.

“I told you to sit still! Ugh!” Amy shoved the severed foot into his grasp and stomped into her bedroom. Metal could hear crashing as she grumbled and pushed things around her storage closet roughly. The girl stormed back into the room with an enormous roll of duct tape and knelt back beside Metal. “Give me your foot, I’m fixing this for good,” she demanded.

Metal emitted a low grumble. He held his foot above his head, out of her reach.

“You think I can’t reach up there?” Amy stared for a moment, challenging Metal. Then she suddenly shot back up and lunged for his hand. “Quit being stubborn and let me fix it!”

He was the stubborn one? Enraged, he extended his arm up towards the ceiling, playing keep away. She tugged fruitlessly on the telescopic cable. 

“You wanna lose another arm?!” 

Before he could make a response, Amy’s communicator rang from the other room. They both turned their attention in the direction of the jingle. Amy let out a frustrated sigh and tossed the roll of duct tape aside to answer the call as Metal watched her disappear wordlessly past the door. While she lingered there for a few minutes, he pulled his arm back and sat silently once more. He looked from his dismembered foot to the shiny duct tape and back again. He supposed it would be better than nothing.

Amy sauntered back into the living room area with her nose up. “That was Tails. Lucky for you, he’s an actual engineer and he can actually fix you.” She crossed her arms defensively.

Metal Sonic rolled his eyes but reluctantly offered his foot back to her.

“Did you just- You’ve been sitting here expressionless for a whole day and the first emotion you show is that?” She snatched his foot out of his grasp. “Unbelievable.” Amy continued muttering under her breath while she taped his leg and foot back together. “There! Not that it matters, Tails is about to fix it anyway,” she scoffed. “At least it won’t fall off on the way there…”

He looked down at his “repaired” foot. It did seem to at least be attached to him, which was marginal improvement. Metal stood up slowly, attempting to disperse his weight evenly. It was a bit shaky and he couldn’t exactly bend his ankle, but he managed to limp around rather than drag his foot behind him. 

“Well?” Amy looked at him inquisitively.

Metal reached for the little whiteboard that he’d left on the kitchen counter. He set it in front of him and scribbled something down quickly, holding it up for Amy to see. He turned away as he did, seemingly embarrassed. “THANK YOU” it read in slightly less neat handwriting than usual.

Amy’s cheeks puffed when she saw it. Her face flushed and she, too, avoided eye contact. “You’re welcome.” She pouted, her cheeks growing ever warmer as she realized what an outburst she’d had. “And, you know… sorry,” she finally added.

Stubborn, Metal Sonic added to his description of Amy Rose in his memory bank. Temperamental. He looked back down at his foot, noticing how neatly she had wrapped the tape around him- smooth, with no folds or creases. Well-meaning, he appended. The fix wasn’t perfect but it was certainly more comfortable than the alternative. Thoughtful.

Amy composed herself, releasing a deep sigh. “Grab your jacket and your arm. Let’s head to Tails’ place so he can get you fixed up for real,” she smirked. She knew her solution was janky, but genuinely hoped it would at least help keep him together. 

Metal Sonic complied with this. He found his arm strewn into the corner of the storeroom and gave Amy a bit of a side eye, knowing she’d knocked it there in her earlier rage. She pretended not to notice this. He was about to head out the front door when Amy stopped him. “You’re not going to wear your jacket? I know you don’t get cold, but…”

He looked to the coat rack where he’d placed it the evening before. It didn’t agree with his telescopic arm when it was extended so he opted to remove it before helping Amy clean up her closet. 

“I’ll help you get it on if you want.”

He nodded back, dropping his other arm momentarily as she slid it over him and zipped the front. Amy smiled at him then with unexpected warmth. 

She was musing silently about his change in character. Overnight, Metal went from a nightmarish enemy to a placid houseguest. Amy thought he could be reprogrammed into becoming her ally, but was now realizing that this robot with all his hinges and bolts was a bona fide person. She’d always thought he was angry by default, encountering him only in battle or other tense situations; but seeing how Metal could become elated and annoyed and show gratitude gave her hope that he wasn’t just an emotionless machine to be modified. Instead, he was a potential new friend.

[write-a-bad-romance]

Conversation Over (Isaac x Mozart Modern AU)

Characters: Isaac Newton and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart from Ikemen Vampire, some OCs

Pairings: Isaac x Mozart

Rating: T 

This is a companion piece to Stolen Batteries. Also available on Ao3.

Take out your heart and let it sit in the freezer.

Wolf lifted his head from the crook of his arm and stared into the darkness of his apartment.

Well, if it weren’t for the sunlight filtering in from the window. Reluctantly, the young composer rose from his chair to close the curtains.

Wolf hated the city lights. To him, they were nothing but noise when contrasted against the dark, unpolluted skies of the countryside.

“This is the best condition for stargazing.” The young man in front of him beamed as he set up the telescope.

That was another reason why Wolf kept the curtains shut throughout the entire night.

His surroundings were silent, save for the distant noise of traffic down below. Begrudgingly, Wolf admitted that his father had a point in pushing him this far. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have received enough commission to rent this high-rise apartment, with all its perks.

“Must be great having included housekeeping and laundry,” a voice called from the bathroom. “You can doss around on weekends and catch some sleep.”

Wolf returned to his desk and took a swig of cold, bitter coffee. Drowsily, he reached for his iPhone and unlocked it. It was 8 a.m. And there were three missed calls from Antonio.

That geezer. Immediately, Wolf pressed ‘call’ and barked to the other man. “What business do you have calling me this early?”

“Wolf! Good to know you’re already up and running!” Antonio greeted him cheerfully with his trademark raspy voice. “Get to the studio. There’s some trouble with the lyrics for the final track in the soundtrack.” 

“Lyrics? You think I’m a pop singer or something?”

“You- argh! We haven’t got time!” Antonio yelled. “Come on, Wolf. Help me out here!”

The white-haired youth sat down and stared at the hardwood floor in thought. He wasn’t in the mood to hear the old man rave, but taking a break from composing and seeing what his colleagues were up to seemed like a savory idea.

Better than wallowing alone in this empty apartment, at least.

“Alright. Give me an hour.” He sighed.

Wolf stared into blank space as Antonio and Cerise, the producer, went back-and-forth with the two girls over some lyrics sheet. Compared to Cerise’s composed tone, Antonio’s rankling voice was an irritant to his ears.

“Look, I understand you feel the need to do some experimentation with this piece,” the dark-skinned woman spoke coolly to the fuming man. “But you gotta at least listen to what the girls want. This is their song, after all.”

“You, you don’t get it!” Antonio yapped. “Don’t you want to produce something more than uninspired bops that the billboards churn every month or so?”

“If we’re talking about direction, then we need to go back to the lyrics and the impression you wanted to make,” Cerise turned to Bo-ram, one of the singers. “What did you have in mind while writing this?”

“Well,” Bo-ram shuffled through the notes and pointed at one of the papers. “It’s not made for any particular scene or anything. We just thought it’d fit these two characters…”

Wolf leaned back in his seat and gazed at the ceiling, propriety be damned. It wasn’t as if they acknowledged him or anything.

“You’re kinda quiet today, Wolf. Something the matter?” Cerise suddenly called to him with a hint of concern.

The young composer returned his attention to the bickering group, who were now gawking at him in silence.

“Eh, don’t mind him.” Antonio waved. “He’s gotten his panties in a twist since last week.”

You were the one who called me here, dummkopf. “Watch it.”

Although, had it really been only over a week?

Wolf dismissed the thought, “Let’s get to the recording booth, then. I want to hear what it sounds like." 

Wolf closed his eyes as he listened through the entire song.

While it wasn’t something that he’d composed (mainstream pop wasn’t exactly his cup of tea), but he had to admit that it was easy on the ears and that the vocals were indeed powerful. While he didn’t have much faith in the girls at first, they’d really outdone themselves this time.

"What’s the problem then?” He turned to Cerise and Antonio.

“The problem,” Cerise flashed a dry smirk. “Is that this guy here wants to add another rap on top of that existing rap.”

“You don’t understand!” The other man screeched. “I’m doing this for Bo-ram’s favor. I mean, the way she raps!”

You know jack about rap. Wolf wanted to say. Neither do I, to be honest.

While he did show some interest in rap once in a while, he never really took the plunge. Wherever his heart led, his brain would follow. There was simply not enough room for rap on top of his piling lists of concerns, both musical and not.

But Antonio was right. There was something in the way Bo-ram fired her words. He had to be sure.

“Let me hear that rap one more time,” Wolf instructed. “Without music.”

Bo-Ram did as she was told, under the strict man’s scrutinizing gaze. But even that wasn’t enough. “Again, with music.” He demanded.

Wolf listened intently to every word Bo-ram fired. It wasn’t just her (admittedly, brilliant) play of words and rhythm, but there was also her intensity with which she uttered her lines. He never once pictured anybody conveying such raw energy through meticulously crafted strings of words.

“What was the idea behind the song, again?” He asked Cerise pointedly.

“Oh, it’s about the game’s main character separating with his first girlfriend and some leftover  feelings.”

Leftover feelings.

Clearly, the rapper knew how to speak from the character’s point of view. She was his mouthpiece —or was that the other way around?

To him, she was rapping all her intent and emotion to a phantom —someone who wasn’t part of the audience. He supposed that he and the rapper had a lot in common. Even the most amateur of listeners could pick up all his emotions in every stroke, every note that flowed through his fingers. 

The audience was aware of his desires, but for whom?

They could build an image from bits of emotion they managed to gather, but never the entire portrait. The song is a fragment of stories, painting disjointed scenes of strife and peace without telling the tale in its entirety.

Wolf picked up his pen and set it on the paper. He rarely ever put his emotions into words, but for some reason, just this once, he wanted to try.

"Give me a second. I think I can come up with something.”

In the quiet of the next room over, Wolf stared at the blank sheet, his trembling hands capping and uncapping his pen.

Leftover feelings were not something he dealt with often since separations, throughout his history, were clean and impersonal, in his own words.

He had so far lived up to his reputation as an ice king, cold. So why? 

It never mattered to him who pulled the trigger and left the other to bleed. Wolf wasn’t always harsh. His upbringing compelled him to apologize when he needed to (with a straight face, of course), and leave. The sooner, the better.

He always made sure there were no pieces left to pick.

So why? He twirled the pen between his fingers. Why? Why? Why?

He loathed the feeling of waking up to an empty apartment. He wished for the physicist to step out of his door again, his hair all ruffled and eyes surrounded by dark circles after pulling another all-nighter. 

How ugly he looked as he sat on the table, scowling at his coffee mug and muttering about accidentally deleting parts of his thesis draft or complaining about his nagging supervisor.

In that window of time, when the other man let his guard down and showed his humanity was when Wolf felt most normal.  

It was painful seeing him stumble along imaginary walls that he erected himself. So much so that the rare (turned not-so-rare) moments when he coaxed his little hedgehog with soothing whispers was rewarding in its own.

Those eyes the color of cherry-blossom (not him, it was one of Napoleon’s girlfriends pointing it out) always looked like they were on the verge of tears. But they beamed even brighter than a supernova the moment he launched into one of his rants about the position of stars and the latest astronomical findings.

He once thought they looked like glass, but really they were a mirror. A mirror he painfully admitted wanted to see himself reflected on. Always.

He knew full well he didn’t deserve any of that.

Wolf was never new to spouting blunt nonsense— to harming people. It was a necessary evil for him to get by amid deadlines and obligations from his father in Vienna. It was his power and weakness. 

Whatever good he had with any of his previous partners, Wolf always knew there would be a point where they’d have to part. That was that. By the time he even uttered farewell, there were none of these leftover feelings that Cerise and Bo-ram talked about.

There was always a goodbye , and despite what people think of him, a sorry .  The latter was often devoid of weight, to be honest.

And yet the heaviest one was the one he couldn’t say out loud.

It’s never them, it’s me. Wolf scratched the pen over and over until it left behind a yarn of angry black lines. It’s not you, it’s me.

For the first time in his solitary excuse of a life, he felt pain over a wound he knew for sure he had inflicted on someone else. 

Sighing, he picked up the pen and began to scribble the lyrics— no, words he meant to say.

Isaac, I…

“I don’t think that part needed any rap. Keep it that way.”

“Eh, are you sure? The girls love it, Cerise loves it and so do I! What — ”

“I’m sure. The song is good enough as it is. Tell that to the girls.”

Some words are best kept to yourself.

[starrybouquet]

Stillness

For Ship Day 2020. Prompt: "It's you. It's always been you."

This prompt fit seamlessly into something I'd already half-written. It's hopelessly sappy. Enjoy. :)

Set in season 8.

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

He hears her car pull into the driveway, her headlights illuminating his house for a moment before they flash off. The moonlight glints off her blond hair as she moves toward his house. He listens to her footsteps, then hears her clamber up onto the roof.

"Carter." She's clad in sweatpants and a thick, cable-knit sweater, a shadow against the faint yellow glow of the streetlamps.

"Hi, sir."

"It's two in the morning, and you're on my roof in your pajamas. Drop the sir?"

"Okay, sir."

"Carter." The slightest bit of exasperation creeps into his voice.

She smiles a bit sheepishly, not her usual, but a slight, strained upturn of the corners of her mouth. "Sorry, habit."

"You should have called."

"I didn't want to wake you."

He hears what she doesn't say. They've always been good at having two conversations at once. I didn't want to bother you. I didn't feel like I should be calling you.

He sighs. Somehow, in the dark of the night, he doesn't feel like parsing through every sentence, every word, every gesture. He longs for the easiness, the comfort that seems to have abandoned them, sometimes. Oftentimes.

He thinks about telling her that. But what comes out of his mouth is, "Wanna take a look through the telescope?"

He's a hypocrite and an idiot. He might want honesty, but how can he expect or even ask it from her when he himself shies away from the mere thought?

She crosses quietly to the telescope, and he pulls back and allows her to look at it. His eyes alight on the weave of her blue sweater, the fibers glinting in the moonlight. He can see the shine of her hair, the curve of her neck as she peers into the telescope, and he wants to touch the softness of her sweater where it hugs her waist. He wants to press kisses to her shoulder, the curve of her neck. Lower. Slide his arms around her waist, pull her to him-

Abruptly, he pulls back the chair, moves to the railing, stands looking out into his backyard, the bushes and trees only shadows in the darkness.

She's not yours. She's never been yours. Untouchable, Lieutenant Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter. He could love her in the deep corners of his heart, protect her in the depths of a Goa'uld ship, comfort her when Death came a hairsbreadth too close, but he couldn't forget his place in her world. It went beyond just their ranks and command structure. If he didn't have a moratorium on cliches, he'd have compared her to a princess--the kickass kind--and himself to the lowly guard, the stable hand.

"It's beautiful." The words are clipped at the end, and he hears the "sir" that she's broken off.

When Sam turns and finds the General standing on the other side of his roof, she crosses over to him.

"Sir?"

Silence.

"Jack?" she asks tentatively, when he doesn't respond. The use of his name makes her uncomfortable. It somehow feels more intrusive than showing up at his house in the dead of night.

"Carter." His voice is strained, and most might mistake it for anger. But Sam recognizes the emotions swirling beneath that tone. Because for all his stupid bravado and witty comebacks, Jack O'Neill is a man who feels more deeply than anybody she's ever known. She knows this deep in her heart. It's one of the reasons she fell in love with him, one of the reasons it didn’t work out with Pete. He’s the only one that can ever fill that space in her heart, now.

"Jack," she says, stronger now. She reaches a hand to his shoulder, nudges him to face her.

Despite knowing the depth of his emotions, the pain in his eyes still cuts her like a knife. His eyes are dark with it, but she somehow knows he's putting all of his stubbornness, infamous across the galaxy, towards restraining it. Hiding it from her, so that she doesn't see it.

So that nobody sees it.

He somehow looks aged and impossibly young all at once. The pain etches the lines of his face, making him look older than his age, but the look in his eyes is that of a little boy--hurt, confused, stubborn. Lost.

"Oh, Jack," she whispers, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. When she reaches up to cup his cheek, he stiffens further, if possible, freezing into a statue of ice and pain held together only by his indomitable determination not to crack.

He's still stiff as she slides her arms around him, one across his back, one pulling his head to her shoulder. It's only when she murmurs, I'm not going anywhere into his ear that he begins to relax, inch by inch, into her embrace.

When it feels like most of the tension in his spine is gone, she pulls back, but only far enough to look into his face.

"Can we talk about this inside? I'm getting a little chilly--didn't bring a coat. "

He nods, still looking a little lost. Together, they cover up his telescope and climb down the ladder. She takes his hand, leads him into his house. The door is unlocked, as always.

Sam doesn't release his hand once they're inside. Instead, she tugs him toward the living room, sits down on the couch and pulls him with her. They're sitting close together, thighs touching, and she turns to look at him, blue eyes wide and serious.

“I broke it off with Pete a week ago,” she says, quietly. “I needed to tell you--I-I never meant to hurt you. The last thing in the galaxy I'd want to do is hurt you." Her gaze flees down to her lap.” Sam feels the guilt that pushed her to his house in the wee hours of the morning gnaw at her gut again, and she looks down at her lap. She’d ignored him, and she doesn’t know how she didn’t see it months ago.

Tentatively, Jack's arm comes to rest around her shoulders.

"It's not all your fault, Carter," he says resignedly. "I was too scared to talk to you. It was easier to let you think that I didn't care."

"Don't shut me out again," she pleads. "I know I haven't given you much reason to trust me, but-"

His arm slips away, and she tries not to miss the brief warmth around her shoulders.

"I trust you--all of SG-1, but especially you--more than I've ever trusted anyone in my life, Sam. That's what scares me. You can read me when no one else can, and there's no way you'll like the things you'll see. Nobody would--not with the life I've lived."

Sam looks up at him, locking her eyes with his. "Jack. I know you have scars, and I don't care. You're the best man I've ever met. You're caring, compassionate, brilliant-"

He starts to withdraw, shake his head, but she doesn't budge. "I know you try to hide it, but you are. The whole SGC adores you. And-"

Her vision starts to blur, and she blinks the tears away. "And I adore you, a-and you're my best friend, and I love you. I love you so much, Jack. It’s you. It’s always been you."

He's frozen for a second, and then he blinks, and she sees two tears roll down his cheek. "I love you too," he whispers hoarsely.

This time, he sweeps her into his arms and hugs her fiercely--not enough to hurt, but enough to leave her no doubt as to the strength of his love for her.

"I'm not going anywhere either, Sam," he whispers. "I swear to God, I'm a safe bet. We'll make this work."

She smiles up at him.

"Together?"

Jack just holds her tighter. "Always."

[peter-parcoeur]

“When you’re gone” - part 2

Summary + Chapter 1

Comment if you like it ♥

Chapter II

It had been two weeks now.

Two entire weeks of a world Tony Stark wasn’t part of anymore and still, Peter wasn’t ready to come out and face the emptiness he had left into his own life. It was just too brutal, too confusing, and too sad.

Ned had come to visit almost every day in hope that, at some point, Peter would consider leaving his bedroom and catch some fresh air. Every single attempt failed as he barely had the force to get out of his room to share a meal with his aunt. Sometimes he would simply watch his meal until it was completely cold. His entire world had collapsed and now it felt like he had no goal left. Even thinking about MJ didn’t bring him a single happy thought, he had simply lost interest in his ordinary life.

“School’s starting tomorrow” May stated as she grabbed a few dirty clothes from his bedroom floor “you should get your stuff ready for the big day!”

“You’re calling this a big day?

-          Last year of high school, this is HUGE.

-          Whatever, I’m not going anyway.”

Peter flinched at the sound of the laundry basket being dropped on the wooden floor. When he looked up, May looked furious.

“Okay that’s it, get up, now!

-          Wow, what’s up with you May?

-          I’ve been patient and I know you’re hurt honey but I won’t let you drop out of school and make stupid decisions like this! So you better get your ass out of this bed or I’ll drag you out of your bedroom so fast you won’t get to use your freaking magic spider sense!”

She was sat by his bed now, pulling at the cover so she could finally look into his eyes.

“What happened is truly awful and we’ll mourn Tony for as long as we get to live… But… Life needs to go on. You’re 17. Do you think he saved you so you could spend your days in bed playing Fall of Duty in your boxers?

-          That’s… Call of Duty actually

-          Whatever! This is a stupid game and you’re smarter than this, Peter.

-          I just don’t know how to do it…

-          One step at a time baby.”

With a tender hand resting on his cheek, she pecked his forehead.

“First step: take a shower, you smell like a rotted dead fish.” She winced, “Happy’s coming over for dinner, he’ll be happy to see you looking fresh.”

“Happy’s been coming a lot lately…

-          He’s been really supportive. Now out! Shower!” she snapped her fingers, grabbed her laundry basket and left the room so she wouldn’t have the conversation she was dreading.

There’s was something therapeutic about long, hot showers and though his heart was still heavier than ever, Peter couldn’t deny he was lucky to have May to kick his ass when he needed her to.

Walking back into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, Peter could smell his aunt famous’ meatloaf cooking from the kitchen. She was right, life would still go on even if it didn’t seem that appealing without his dear friend in it.

As he looked for a fresh pair of pants and some socks, his eyes were inevitably drawn to a few pictures he had pinned on his wall, right above his desk. Every person he’d ever loved was in there. His parents, his uncle Ben and May on their wedding day, Ned, MJ, Happy… And of course, Tony. His heart sunk into his chest as he grabbed a picture of himself holding a little girl wearing Iron Man’s helmet with her hands wrapped around his neck, recognizing Tony’s daughter, Y/N.

If only he had a chance, Peter would go back to this day just so he would get to hang out with Tony and his family again. To think he wouldn’t get to see his daughter grow into a woman (and probably terrorize any man willing to date her) was heartbreaking, especially when he thought of the way she looked at the funeral. She seemed both devastated and angry with no helmet for her to hide her feelings anymore.

He remembered every detail of the day he had met Y/N, 8 years ago.

 ***

 It was the first time Peter ever stepped into Tony Stark’s actual home. So far, they had met at Stark Industries or in random places all over the world but today, Tony had invited his young apprentice into the intimacy of his Home.

The weather was incredible that day, sunny and warm like a summer afternoon even though it was in the middle of March. Peter didn’t know why he’d been lucky enough to be invited here but he felt extremely thankful for it.

“Hi Peter, please come in” Pepper buzzed him in on the huge monitor in front of the main gate. Of course Tony Stark’s house was surrounded by a thousand of video cameras. After all, he was one of the most powerful man in New-York City, not to mention that he was, well, Iron Man.

Stepping into such a huge mansion wasn’t anodyne for Peter, a kid from Forest Hills. This looked nothing like anything he’d seen back in the Queens.

“He’s down in his workshop if you want to join!” Pepper smiled as she seemed busy with paperwork. She quickly led him towards the elevator, giving him the instructions to enter the basement like he was standing in the heart of the SHIELD’s offices. Everything seemed cool and impressive for an ordinary teenager.

Peter could hear AC/DC blasting from afar as he reached the basement. In front of the big steel doors he found a screen, just like Pepper had told him and as soon as he stood in front of it, a facial scan started.

“Welcome, Peter Parker” – with a click, the main doors opened for him.

“Hi kiddo!” Tony was working on a new armor that looked like a bigger, smarter version of his original Iron Man suit. Peter had always been impressed at how easy Tony made it look when it came to technology. As much of a geek he might be, Peter could never be on that level of perfection.

“New suit?

-          Yeah… Well, we’ll see where this goes, I’ve been thinking.”

Tony always seemed to say this. It’s like he never slept at night because somehow, that’s when his greatest ideas came alive. It was just crazy to think that a man could come up with incredible weapons and crazy armors just over a sleepless night. Would he be given the same amount of time, Peter wouldn’t even get through a school assignment.  

“Your house is incredible, thanks for the invite Mr Stark

-          It’s Tony

-          Alright, Tony.” Peter smiled, genuinely flattered Tony Stark himself would consider him close enough to name it anything but Mr Stark.

-          By the way, not that I wouldn’t have you there randomly but… Someone was dying to meet you and you know me, I aim to please.

-          Really, who!?”

Peter was secretly hoping it would be Nick Fury. He was just as scared as an admirer of the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He couldn’t wait for the day he would make him an Avenger. To this day, it remained his biggest dream.

“Come on out honey, don’t be shy…” Tony smiled in a way Peter had never seen before.

Clearly, he would never call Nick Fury “honey”, so that dream was off the table for today.

Then a little girl came out, fiddling with her hands and avoiding all eye contact.

“Hi?” Peter smiled at her shyness, “is that Y/N?”

“My one and only” Tony stated proudly.

Tony had told him about his daughter, Y/N and how she had changed his whole life. What didn’t matter before, like getting injured or stepping closer to an inevitable death, mattered now. Happy had even told Peter that becoming a father had made Tony more anxious, more stressed. It was a different dynamic now that he had something to lose. Of course there was Pepper too, but she was hot and smart, she’d find a new husband. Y/N would never find a new dad.

Getting down on one knee, Peter welcomed the little girl as warm as possible. She could sense she was a bit star struck for some reason, but he had always been amazing with kids. She wouldn’t be the exception.

“Hi, I’m Peter!” he beamed, reaching for her hand.

“Oh she knows!” Tony chuckled “she’s not usually that shy, she’s just… impressed.” Tony watched the expression on Peter’s face change immediately “Don’t get too cocky, she just likes you very veeeery much, right honey?”

The little girl nodded then went straight into Peter’s arms for a hug.

“Aw that’s cute!” Peter smiled, holding the little girl against him.

“Yeah well, be careful, her dad’s kind of a psycho!”

Looking closer, Peter could definitely tell she was a Stark. She had her father’s eyes and mischievous smile but sometimes she would give you one of Pepper’s famous cocky look. Everything about her screamed “I’m the result of two geniuses’ love” and he could tell she’d become a smart ass in the future. Secretly, he hoped he’d still be around to see that, only because it would mean Tony would still be his mentor.

           The rest of the day went blissfully. Peter learned more about Y/N and had the privilege to see her “astrology” themed bedroom with a ceiling covered with stars that would shine in the dark, her massive telescope her daddy had built for her 8th birthday and all twelve names of her favorite toys. Out of everything, the cutest thing was the spider-man figurine she kept on her bedside table. There was no denying he was for sure, her favorite super-hero.

When Peter left, Tony grabbed Y/N into his arms for her to wave goodbye to her new friend.

“Daddy? She asked after a while

-          Yes sweetheart?

-          When I grow up, I want to marry spider-man.”

Pepper couldn’t help but laugh at Tony’s face, a perfect mix between the astonishment and the one he’d given her when she had keyed his favorite car “just for fun”.

“That kid will have to kill me first” he joked, walking back into the house as he held the most precious gift life had given him.

Thinking about it, Peter probably wasn’t the worst choice she could make… when she’d turn 30.

***

“Peter???”

Peter realized he must have blacked out for a while when he caught a glimpse of his aunt May and Happy at his doorway. How long had he been dreaming?

“Oh errr, sorry, I was just… thinking… Good to see you Happy!

-          Hi kid, I’d give you a hug but you’re underage and shirtless, so that’s weird!” Happy joked, pointing at Peter’s naked chest.

-          Dinner’s ready, May added, whenever you feel like joining us?

-          I’ll be out in a minute.”

Peter sighed as he pinned the picture back on the wall, wondering if he’d ever get to speak to Y/N again.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Summer’s Child

Summer’s Child Chapter 5- Angel of The Morning

Hey doll’s, its been a little break from all the gorgeous content, and im withering on the vine! Where oh where is the music. (Just Kidding, Jeff, take your time Harry-not really, but ok....) Special thanks to @emulateharry, and my true loves- @dirtystyles and @bleedinglove4h

May 1969

He just wanted to wear his dad's good suit. That's all he wanted. It would have made this simpler and definitely lessen the humiliation he was feeling.

Harry was stood in the Sears suit department watching Jillian make ugly faces at all the drab suits.

"Not one of them can be a color?" She'd looked at Harry standing there holding several checked jackets and sighed.

"I'm really fine with grey or blue." He'd shrugged. Those were colors. And as for the plaid in his hand, his dad had several tweed coats he was  pretty sure he'd grown into. He was as tall as him now, maybe a hair taller. Or his hair ''twas taller. And a little broader. His posture was just band, mostly because  he wanted to fold in on himself like a dinner napkin a lot of the time. Like right now. Not only was he going to Prom as her and Will's third wheel. He was going to stand out like the star in a play if Jillian got her way about his attire. He was really more of a background character.

Harry was elated when Jillian just huffed and took all the jackets out of his hand and gave him the blue suit. He'd been eyeing it for a while now. It was not navy, decidedly, but it was blue. Blue was safe, but it had small details he liked, the lapels and the flares leg. It was, well, groovy would be Jillian's description, was.

"You sure your don't want to try on the green suit?" She picked up the mossy suit one more time.

Harry wasn't sure what the difference was between a blue suit and a green one, the green just seemed, loud. "I think it's a little much." He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the fabric.

"But it's corduroy." She smiled like that made the difference. It did, just not the way she thought it did.

"Maybe that's why I think it's a little much." He inclined his forehead at her.

"I think you play it too safe." She shrugged.

He very much did play it safe. Not just with clothes. But, "the pants of the blue one are belled." That seemed relevant and like she needed a reminder.

Jillian trilled her musical laugh. "Oh, alright, I dig it. We have reached your limit on cool. Go try it on." He walked into the dressing room and could hear her giggling outside.

"What are you plotting?" He nearly tripped over his own pants, thankfully since he couldn't afford a suit and extra pants, when the corduroy hit his head.

"I wanna see you in it. You're gonna look groovy. Your eyes will be green like jade man!" His heart soared. "Trina Lewis said she's just noticed how pretty the color was the other day, when you were cleaning your glasses." And it sunk.

"Who's Trini Lewis?"

"She's in English with us. And Trina, doof." She laughed. "She moved here last year. Kinda quiet really curly blonde hair, brown eyes."

"Where does she sit?" He didn't care, he was simply stalling.

"She sits one back and two over from me, so three from you." That's why he'd never noticed, he looked forward in class, certainly no further back than Jillian.

"Why are we talking about Trini—"

"Trina." She giggled.

"Trina, any how?" He stepped out in the blue suit expecting to continue sparring with her.

She was quiet. It was strange, so Harry only caught a glimpse of himself before he redirected his attention to her. Jillian's eyes always took up a bit more than their fair share of her face, or he focused on them most to avoid looking at her mouth.

Sitting on the round tufted avocado stool, they were shooter marble big. And her mouth was caught on whatever explanation she was gonna give about the blonde in their English class. Trini? It was hard to remember anyone else's name when she was looking up at him, especially like that.

Something broke when she blinked, the moment, his heart, it was hard to say. "What?" He finally asked to break the tension. The hairs on his arm were standing on end.

"Nothing," she swallowed loud. "where are your glasses?"

"Oh, I took them off to get my sweater over my head, forgot to pop them back on."

"Your hair looks different too. I um," She fidgeted with her hair, "I, um, didn't know it had gotten so long." It sounded like a compliment, though the words weren't complimentary exactly. He'd take it. He wasn't sure about the way she was gazing at him; it looked like she'd been staring at the sun, like when you see black spots because you stared too directly.

Seemed fair, he often felt like he watched her like the moon through a telescope trying to map her geography.

His hair was longer than normal. It seemed fashionable, though he still did it in his usual fashion, so no one had noticed, he just pushed it back after showers. He wasn't sure it was worth it, the growth. Plus, his hair was getting hard to pomade so he was just about ready to cut it.

Harry was pretty sure he'd let it go until it touched his shoulders now.

Jillian loved long hair, he knew it. It was a very uncommon sight still in their small town. It might have been his unnamed motivation.

"Yeah, I thought I'd try it." For California. But he still hadn't had time to share with her. They hung out, not as much as they used to, and her mom was having a long stitch of singleness, so Jillian slept at home. He hoped to tell her. He'd hoped to continue planning together. He wondered if he hadn't been able to get it out because he was afraid she'd changed her mind. Time had passed, and well, Will. Will was still around, but Harry still hoped for forever. And that meant California, just the two Of them. Her eyes said maybe

He had a little hope, maybe they could find some sweet romance after all.

"It looks really nice." Jillian finally said. Her voice a little higher than normal. There was a pause. "You know, I thought you'd grown out of your curls." She gestured to the mirror and rushed through the next question. "Do you like the blue?"

Harry realized the mirror was still there and looked at himself. He looked really tall in these bell bottoms. He supposed he was kind of taller than most of the boys at school. He'd need a boot, maybe with a bit of a heel, he may have a loafer that would work. The shirt was a bit ruffly. "I like the blue, maybe not the shirt. The pants are groovy." He put his leg up to let the flare open. "Do people grow out of their curls?" He ran his hand through his hair, ruffled it up. He could feel her eyes and it was such a nice boomerang of his feelings and attention on her; he preened a little.

"Should I try the green?" He walked a few steps closer to peer at his eyes. He never really thought about their color, he supposed they were really green. He was partial to blue, blue eyes and the blue sight. He hunkered down next to her, sitting on his heels, and bumped her shoulder. "Or have we found the one? Though I'd prefer a different shirt."

She kept her head forward and he was slightly miffed she didn't slide her forehead over his. He thought about breathing her condensed breath on his bench seat in January a lot. That was a sense memory, it smarted that it was coupled with silently committing to friendship for life. If she would just turn to him now, maybe....

"I think the shirt makes it, but the flares are far out  enough for me.  You should try the green, at least see how it looks." He rolled his head to the light and stood up. She wasn't gonna breathe on him, despite their earlier moment.

He sighed. "Ok." Once he got in the room he looked at his choices. He was already exhausted, and this was his first suit. "How many dresses did you have to try on?"

"Oh, I'm gonna wear the dress you bought me. The pink one?" She sounded nonchalant on purpose, it didn't quite work.

"Are you supposed to do that? Rewear dresses to big events?" He had money from his dad for the suit. Started checking price tags. The blue was more than the brown. But the green was most expensive.

"I just really like the dress."

He barely had the shirt on when he stepped out. And Jillian swallowed once her gaze reached his face while he was buttoning up. It had started at his navel where his fingers had fumbled. He needed to see her face. He felt like there were things she wasn't saying. He knew there were, but if she bit her lip or cut her eyes away quick, he'd know she was lying.

She did the second when he got the jacket on. "Listen, go get some dresses. Look at the sale racks, or we can try Mel's again."

"The pink was a treasure find, Harry."

"There's gotta be a better thrift shop here in Syracuse. We could try another one. I'll get the blue instead of the green, then I can use the difference in cash to pick it up for you?" He just felt like she needed a new dress.

"I don't care if people notice Harry." Did he? Maybe. He already heard troubling things about her. The high school rumor mill was very busy trying to figure out what Will was doing with Jillian 8 months on. They figured he hadn't gotten what he was after. What Jillian was trying to get outta Will was less discussed. Everyone assumed his family's money and social status, but Harry confused them further.

Jillian still rode to school with Harry often, or had since they'd made up, and she occasionally ate with him in the library. The supposed triangle made people feel sorry, for him.

He'd heard back up boyfriend a time or two again. It always felt like a slap. May always feel that way.

But that wasn't Jillian, that was just high school dicks.

"Don't you wanna look? It  couldn't hurt."

"I'll look, if you wear the ruffled shirt." She turned her face sideways, her cheekbones shone fetchingly, even in the harsh department store lighting.

"You drive a hard bargain. But I'll do it." He wanted to reverse their positions of the last hour. It seemed like she saw him anew today. He looked at her new with each day. In pretty dresses couldn't hurt, they were memories he could hoard up like treasure. Her in her prom dress, his date or not, smiling at him and pleased with herself.

"That's not the whole bargain. I also want you to ask Trina to the dance."

"The dance is in a week!" He squawked and was getting back into his own clothes. He forewent the sweater vest. He was hot from all the changing so much his hair was definitely curling up from the damp, so he just pushed it back and over. "Won't that offend her?"

He had no excuses for why he left the glasses off. He'd never even realized how green his eyes were, either.

"Nah, she's not got a date, it'll give her a reason to buy a dress. She wants to go. She wants to go with you." They were walking out by now. The line had been minimal and they'd only done quick pleasantries while they were embroiled in their current debate.

He opened her car door. And she slid in and reached over to unlock his. Harry thought about it as he walked around. He was sure Trini was nice, Trina, and it would save him from an awkward dynamic. When they were all around each other, Will mostly ignored him, but Prom was long compared to moments at Dairy Barn or in the halls. That may be nice.

The problem was, he wanted to go with Jillian. Even as the strange tripod that she, he and Will had developed. She was changing their dynamic. It was disappointing, but he was sure she envisioned some double date scenario. A partner of his own may distract him from her and Will kissing. Or whatever. He could see the merits of the idea more and more. Harry was ready to agree, but needed to confirm the terms.

"So," he looked at her across the bench seat. He felt taller when she looked him in the eye today. He was gonna have to put the glasses on to drive, but he was gonna wait until the engine purred to life. "If I ask Trina to the dance and wear that ever so slightly cheaper suit with the ruffled blouse."

"It's not a blouse." She insisted.

"It's a blouse." He kept talking, over her interruption and through his grinning teeth. "Then we can search some thrift shops and find you a dress? A new one?"

She chewed her lip. Jillian wanted to say no, but she also wanted him to go with Trina, or she really liked the blouse. He wasn't sure which. "Yes." She said and screwed up her mouth like she'd eaten a load of salt and vinegar chips, which he loved and she tolerated. She'd liked the Worcester chips his dad got when he went to New York and found a specialty shop much better. They could get them next month before or after The Beach Boys show.

He'd also heard there was gonna be a big music show nearby this summer. Maybe they could go? He'd ask her after he got her in a dress. Though questions usually preceded gowns.

"I would shake your hand, but I'm driving." He looked at her grinning. "Can you be trusted?"

She just stared at him and he was confused by her mood.

"Can we listen to the radio?" She leaned forward without him saying yes. That was the obvious answer. They sang together, always. He headed to the area around the university. He remembered there being a charity shop there with good stuff.

She was singing softly to "The Zombies." He got caught up in the moment of it, and his voice dropped off the chorus. She could carry it. The lyrics carried his away. This was a season; winter was ending and they were headed for years long spring. He was just about to tell her. All his plans. He wasn't sure why he hadn't yet. Every time he went to share, he found himself saying something else. Like he was sure that forever didn't extend past August and she was really just shining him on until she could leave. That she was gonna marry Will in a year and have a baby, like so many girls they knew, or the worst. That she wanted California on her own, and only faux planned with him to placate him. He hated being placated.

He really hated thinking these thoughts.

Maybe that's why he said, "what color dress you gonna get?" Instead of anything important, everything important.

She looked at him then, in that way she had. Like he was made of glass, but she'd only reply to the reflection, blurry on top. Not what she saw deeper. He appreciated that she didn't force candor, it seemed she always knew without him saying.

"When you thrift shop, you can't be as picky. It'll do if we find something that fits and is somewhat appropriate."

"Appropriate?" He laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "For a dance."

"I feel like it's the only time they let you guys dress in anything remotely inappropriate." He glanced quick to catch her expression. He had the mirror, but in motion was better. "Remember last year when they got you for that mini skirt?"

"Ugh, it was not that short."

He bit his laugh off. It was pretty short. He zigged to a new subject. "How's this place look?" He gestured at the store he had in mind. The front window was full of shawls and bell bottoms, a tie dye tapestry peaking out behind.

"Far Out, Hardy!"

"You haven't called me that in forever." He jumped down and lit up further when she slipped her arm through his. She was touchy like when they were younger today. After her dad left, well, it was nice for it to be back.

"You haven't earned it! When was the last time you found me pretty Beetles?"

"I find you Beatles albums."

"Not as good," She shook her head and bowed  like the Hare Krishnas in Central Park when he opened the door for her.

"That's not what you said when I found Sgt.Pepper early for you."

"Well, maybe that one should have gotten a Hardy."

"Your giddy scream was enough." They'd made it to the dress section while they were bantering.

It looked like a pastel bomb went off. There were a lot of flounces. Jillian stayed away from the most complicated pieces and chose darker colors. It surprised him.

The black dress was drab and everything was so low cut, she'd claimed even on prom night they'd kick her out.

She might have even been right, he was almost hyperventilating and shifting his erection to his waistband after that dark blue one shift dress. He didn't know people who weren't Cher wore necklines like that. Jillian was not shaped like Cher. Harry had wandered to distract himself from seeing her in anything else that would make him feel like he ran the hurdles in gym. It was in a random spot he found her dress. It was white, with ruffled cap sleeves and little hippie flowers. The front wouldn't get her kicked out, but it would set his heart to racing.

Will's too.

But it was too beautiful to not bring it to her.

Jillian's eyes widened, it was his favorite face, when he surprised her with something she loved. She was the great gift giver and he tried to get on her level every birthday and Christmas. He'd succeeded a few times, The Beach Boys tickets, the headband that looked just like the one the girl on the cover of Life had worn when they put out the issue on hippies. Her bike when he'd fixed it after she thought it was broken for good at 11.

This was better. Because she slipped the dress from his fingers like it was worth rubies, not $4 as the tag said. She held it lightly, but immediately walked into the dressing room. His eyes widened in a mirror image of her in Sears when she walked out of the dressing room.

"Wow." Was all he could muster. "You look....."

"Yeah?" It's groovy?" She looked like she believed it, and just needed him to back her, like he always did.

"It's far out, Jill." He called her that when he was overcome. Or she was crying. She looked a little misty. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "You can wear some flowers in your hair too. You'll look so pretty. I'll go look for some."

He found some fake potted plant for .25 and took off buds. He wasn't sure how she'd do it. But he could see the halo of white flowers around her face. It was a window to his future. This dress, flowers in her hair, the alameda county court house.

"How's this?" He held out the handful of flowers and she looked up. He wanted to receive that benediction again and again. Harry didn't know she liked getting flowers, he'd never given her a living thing as a gift. He would now. He'd bring her real flowers home when they had a place. He liked learning new things about her.

"Perfect, they're perfect." She took the buds and pulled her hair up messily, the silky tresses falling through her fingers and the band she had. The hard green parts of the fake petals stuck in between and stayed for put for enough seconds to get an idea of what she'd look like Saturday. Harry stood behind her and gazed in the glass with her.

His heart pounded, and if she was facing him, he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep from kissing her.

"Do you think Will will like it?"

The bubble filling where his heart should be burst. He rubbed over his chest to warm the ice that comment induced, and did what best friends do, "How could he not? You look like an angel."

"An angel of the morning?" She grinned. He wanted to return it. They'd sung it en route. Before the suits. It was hard to smile back though. She always looked like an angel in the morning, especially in the morning. But, was she asking because of Will? Because he might see her just after dawn?

"An angel at anytime." He assured her. Will was staying in New York. And they were going to California. He was gonna give her the dream, he reminded himself. God he loved her and was so scared she was gonna spend the night with Will. Like really spend the night, not just share a bed, no matter how small.

It was prom. There was a strange expectation. Lots of the boys had been talking about the hotel rooms they'd gotten. The dance was all the way in Syracuse, at the college. A couple groups were staying in the dorms or frats with older siblings. He hadn't heard Will talking about hotel rooms, but Steve was, and his plans for it. Though to hear him tell it, he'd had his girlfriend in his truck many a time.

It always made Harry grit his teeth.

Especially when Steve talked about Jillian's tits and Will smiled and laughed. He'd seen Will give an approximation with the cupped palms of his hands and say, "She goes crazy," and lick his lips that time.

Harry couldn't tell that to Jillian, about Will talking about her like that, not without ulterior motives. It was her decision anyhow. And he couldn't bring himself to ask about it. They didn't talk about her and Will, not really, just surface stuff. Though he spent plenty of time worrying about it, and loathing himself for it. Fear and loathing in New York.

"Um, I think this is the one. I'll go pay." He reached to the top of her back and took the tag off.  His finger tips coasted over her skin for just a pleasant second. He ignored the chill bumps that rose. He must have startled her. "You look beautiful." He said as he left.

He was blinded by her smile and nearly crushed the little handwritten tag on his way to pay for that dress for her to go to a dance with someone else.

But he dreamed of her wearing it with real flowers in her hair and saying loving words and long term vows to him as sunlight broke through fog.

The week was a bit of a blur. Trini, no Trina, said yes, she squealed and hugged him. There were tests and end of year activities, and it felt like the ending of a movie you knew had a sequel. He was really excited for the next chapter.

He felt like a new man. Looked it, too. He was only wearing his glasses in class and had let his growing hair loose. His physics teacher didn't recognize him on Wednesday. Which made him both really confused and a little smug.

His da had stopped him on Saturday. "You lost your glasses then?"

Harry'd quirked his head to the side and pulled them from his jean's pocket and slipped them up his nose.

"No?"

"Good. You wear them to drive?"

Harry had nodded.

"Good. It's nice to see your mother's eyes." And he'd taken his mug of tea and hid out from all the emotion in his study.

That was when he was leaving to get Jillian from the early shift at work. They were getting ready at his house, he'd drop her at Will's and then find Trina's house on the way. Shouldn't be too hard, their town only had one stop light.

He gave her the bathroom. The spicy smells coming from under the bathroom door where new and altogether pleasant. He knocked. "New perfume?"

"Um, yeah. Will bought it for me. Its Opium."

"It's nice." He complimented and leaned his forehead as softly as possible against the wood grain.

"It's alright. I miss my Love's." He'd bought that one birthday, liked the powdery scent . It just seemed like Jillian to him. He missed it too.

She'd been in the bathroom, long after he was in his suit. The new look was easier, he didn't have to pomade his hair and try to subdue it. He just let it curl around his ears and neck and forehead. He needed to get in to splash on some after shave, for scent, he'd never really needed to shave. Harry didn't want to rush her, but..... He listened to small movement and soft sighs. He was just about to say something, then.

For a second, he thought he heard a sob. "You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah." Her voice was thick. "I keep having to redo my eyeliner. I wanted to try that Sharon Tate thing. It's hard. I'm frustrated."

Over explaining, not a good sign. "Can I come in."

"Um no, I'm in my underwear."

Harry groaned, but bit off the sound. "Did something happen?"

"My um, my mom, she didn't come home last night. I guess I'm a little worried." Her voice sounded close.  Like they were both speaking through the hinges.

"Do you want to go by and check on her? Or.." he squared his shoulders. "Or we can drive by the bar?"

"That's, that would be really good, Harry." She opened the door and he almost fell in. Jillian peeked at him, and their faces were so close. "Thanks." She kissed his cheek and her breath smelled sweet. Even over the strong perfume that didn't fit her.

"We need to hurry then. I don't want to be late to Trina, seems rude." His voice was sheer, thin as the overlay of her dress.

"K, I'll hurry."

"Leave the eyes alone." They were misty, it would run. "You look perfect."

She nodded and smiled. Then closed the door softly. He could feel the grain of the wood on the heel of his hand when he placed it there.

She came out 10 minutes later. He wee'd and splashed on his scent. Well, His dad's.

He was trying to push down the ruffles when he came out.

"Stop that!" Her laugh tickled his ears like questing fingers under blankets. She re ruffled him.

They needed to get out of here, all her casual affection was affecting him. He couldn't take it.

It was worse when his dad insisted on pictures, like they were going together, like she was his date. Like it was his dream.Standing behind her, with his arms around her waist, her unfamiliar smell going to his head and her bum resting too close for comfort on his pelvis, he focused on his anguish, and the periodic table, so he wouldn't embarrass himself.

"You guys look lovely. That will be a framer." He swore his dad was crying, in a very British way. He was fussing about behind him with the camera at his desk.

"We're going da." He tried to get his attention. Get him to turn around. So he could check his hunch.

"Oh, quite right. Wouldn't want you to be late. Have a good time. Don't worry about curfew." Harry's mouth dropped open. "Enjoy yourselves."

He was keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Though he could feel Jillian's on him. His dad looked, funny. He had never seen him so emotional. He let his mind run on that while the seat he'd for her parent. Jillian got uncomfortable and quiet when her mom let her down. He let her feel it. He'd snap her out of it after they figured out what exactly was going in. He kinda knew where she was.

Jillian's mom wasn't at their house.

But her beat up pick up was outside the VFW she sometimes called work.

"Look, she's just down the pub. It's ok. Do you want to go in so she can see you?" She really should. If only to shame the devil for probably not even knowing it was prom.

Jillian scanned parking lot. Her gaze stuttered over a black camaro at the end. It looked very familiar, but Harry couldn't place it.

He went to switch off the engine. Jillian grabbed Harry's wrist to stop his motion. Another casual touch that felt committed, and said, "no, I don't want to be late for Will."

"You don't think your mom would want to see you?" She didn't deserve it, but it would be merciful.

"If it was important to her, she would have helped me get ready, instead of not even coming home." Her face had the blank look it got when she shut down. Jillian wasn't always merciful.

He knew better but, "But."

"No, Harry. Let's go." He eased his foot off the break and obeyed.

She didn't touch him again, just kept her hands folded on her lap. There was a corsage on the seat. It wasn't for her.

He watched her walk into Will's, but didn't see the corsage, a pink set of carnations, until he and Trina arrived at the dance.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised, but Jillian and Will sat at another table altogether than him and Trina. At first, embarrassingly, he felt close to tears over it. Suddenly, his dad's reaction made sense. He wished he had a desk and camera to fuss with. He consoles himself with reason.

It made sense, both Will and Jillian on court, it was closer to the stage, he reminded himself. He told himself this while he put a smile on like a kid pastes cut outs on a test page.

They didn't win, and he didn't like who he was that he felt a swelling in his chest at it. Despite Jillian's crestfallen face. It was one of the few moments he was surprised about one of her reactions. A few months ago he would have been surprised she cared to win at all.

It was the second to last dance when he saw Jillian coming towards him. He had to admit, he had had a lovely time with Trina. They could be good friends, even if he hadn't been in love with someone else, he believed he would have felt the same.

He hoped.

"Trina, do you mind if I cut in." She'd tapped his date's shoulder. He'd kept turning his date from 'take time to know her' to 'angel of the morning.'

Both described Jillian to him. But he was glad she got to dance with him to the latter.

He spared a second's thought for Trina, but he was pretty sure she felt the same, about them being better suited as friends. She was chatting with Simon, from history, he thought. Then dancing.

He had tunnel vision he guessed. For lessons at school. For Jillian now. For California in three months. "You having fun?" He opened with, as formal as his ruffled shirt.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm a little sad we lost." She screwed up her face in a way that told him she was as surprised as him.

"I saw that!" He made a face at her.

"I know. I'm surprised too. I didn't even know I wanted to win."

"Well, I've won. Since I get to dance with the prettiest girl here. Real prom queen."

She blushed. She rarely did that near him. It somehow changed the color of the lights above and her dress below. Everything glowing a soft pink.

"What's going on after this?" Harry wasn't really sure of after dance procedures. This was only his second. The last one she'd left separately, and this time they hadn't attended together.

"Oh, some party upstairs." Jillian explained.

"Here? At the hotel?" Wow, some people lived completely different lives.

"Yeah, I'll bet you can come. I'll ask Will." She offered.

He wanted to go, just to extend this night, with her and that dress and the rose glow. Even if it was with two other people between them.

"Yeah, ok."

Which was how he found himself watching Steven Adler get increasingly drunk and obnoxious.

"Hey, what's your name?" He'd asked about an hour into hotel time.

"Harry, Harry Styles."

"Who invited you?" He said like the words meant nothing to him. Although he'd suggested at one point they, meaning the football team, tape Harry's butt cheeks together, to see if he lived up to his name. Apparently it would hurt a lot more if he was hairy Harry.

They'd surrounded him in the shower. He hadn't been Hairy enough to bother, and the dick jokes had run to awe. He didn't have a comparison.

Steven has known his name two weeks ago.

After that, Harry kept himself to himself. He hadn't seen much of Jillian. But Trina seemed happy, hanging on the couch with a beer in her hands and chuckles in her mouth.

An hour later, Trina was ready to go. And truly, Harry was too. But, he needed to see Jillian first. To make sure she wanted to stay, here, at the hotel, with Will. Where everybody had an agenda for after the dance.

He was going from room to room in the hallway the athletes had seemed to have planned to take up. All the doors were opened and people spilled out. None of them Jillian.

It took him 20 minutes of panic to find her. She was coming out of the last room. Her cheeks were tear stained, and her eyes were bloodshot. Grass maybe was his first thought. He knew she'd been experimenting, that they had talked about.

"Harry!" Her voice broke with relief and over a sob like wave.

"Jillian!bWhat's wrong?"

She just shook her head. There were too many people around.

"Where's Will?"

Her chin lifted then. "In his room, alone." The last word was so final he just paused, and moved into a new paragraph.

"Let's find Trina. So we can get out of here?"

Jillian bit her nails near the elevator bank, looking toward the end of the hallway and back to the room across from it where Harry had left Trina. He could feel her eyes on him as he searched.

Luckily, his date was where he had left her. Talking to classmates and smiling drunkenly.

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab my purse. Everything cool, man?"

"Yeah, fine. Just late." He demurred.

The ride home nobody spoke. Too tired or caught up in their emotions. It was half an hour and the girls were drooping on each other's shoulders when he reached Trina's.

She was past the turn off for Jillian's, and he hoped nobody noticed. He tried not to think much about it. But, he wanted to ask his best girl where she wanted to go. And he wanted to know why she'd not been in the party rooms, why she left Will, and most importantly why she'd been crying?

He hugged Trina at the door, and they decided to go bowling together the week after. "You should ask Jillian." Trina had said as he headed down the walk.

"Yeah, if she's off, and not with Will." He'd shrugged as he turned back with his hands in his pockets.

"No, Harry." She leveled sober eyes on him. "You should ask Jillian, whatever it is you need to ask her. Forget Will." She suggested and grinned drunkenly before swaying through her door and closing it too loud for 2 am.

Ask Jillian. Forget Will.

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 12)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 

Part 9 

Part 10 

Part 11

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Our First (Almost) Kiss | Our First Kiss

The Polaroids | The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor 

Words: 1053

The hottest day of the summer, at least until then, was drawing to a close and a sleepy silence weighed on the large square houses of the village. A couple of cars were parked, covered with a thin layer of dust,  in the driveway of the few Muggles who lived in the area and the meadows all around it, once emerald green, had taken on a yellowish color. Obviously Hermione didn't care: Viktor had spent a month showing her all the wonders of Bulgaria that had come to his mind and now they just wanted to enjoy the well-deserved rest before Hermione returned home, half hidden by a flowerbed to prevent one of the elderly neighbors from inviting them for tea again, despite the torrid heat. Although Ron’s grim news, whom she was sure hadn’t shared with Harry, Hermione had tried to raise her friend’s morale, who had been forced to stay at Privet Drive with his uncles, with photos and stories of everything she had discovered, but never asking him to join them, although Viktor would’ve no problem if he wanted to, if only for a couple of days. Dumbledore’s orders, and although she didn’t understand them and couldn’t tell Harry, she wanted to respect the headmaster’s will, even if every time he replied it was painful to know she can make his days better and wasn’t going to. It was late at night, well past dinner time, when another letter from her friend arrived. He said he was attacked by dementors and that he could’ve been expelled from Hogwarts, as well as demanding news of what was going on and when he could leave the house.

"You should tell him," said Viktor, who had taken more than she to read the letter obviously written in haste. “I don’t think someone can stand it any longer, not even him.”

 When Harry recognized him, he gave him a big, bewildered smile. Through Hermione's letters they had indirectly kept in touch and after the last one, and the consequent discovery of the plan that the members of the Order had devised to extract him from the house and take him to Grimmauld Place, where Hermione insisted on going as soon as the next news had arrived, Viktor had decided to actively participate, convinced that seeing an additional friendly face, as Hermione had explained to him that the rather young but tired and sickly looking man he had known a couple of days before was Remus Lupin, their third year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and friend of Harry’s godfather and deceased parents, could only help.

"Are you sure it's him, Lupin?" muttered Moody. "It would be a great deal if we took away a Death Eater with his appearance. We should ask him something that only the real Potter can know. Unless someone has some Veritaserum..."

"What did I ask you the night I was attacked near the Forbidden Forest?" Viktor inquired, amazing everyone. He hadn't said a word since he volunteered.

"If there was anything between me and Hermione." Harry replied, and no one seemed particularly impressed because, who knew him, must have asked himself the same question but everyone had seen that it was Viktor who had brought Hermione to Grimmauld Place.

"It's him," confirmed Viktor, before approaching Harry to make sure he was really well and that his uncles had done him no harm that he hadn't had the courage to write in his letters to Hermione.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to say anything so far but we’re your escort and we’re just waiting for the signal that will tell us that we can leave safely. We’ll fly, me and Mr. Lupin thought that since you’re good with your broom…” Viktor began, but Lupin interrupted him by asking him for the umpteenth time to call him only Remus as he claimed it made him feel old and that, after all, they were all equal there.

"Have you already packed your bags?" asked Tonks, a pale-hearted witch with shimmering dark eyes and short bristly hair of a particularly intense shade of purple. She was the youngest, after him. Viktor proposed to go to help him and followed him into the entrance and up the stairs, looking around with great curiosity and interest. It was a bizarre place, a little too clean, almost unnaturally, as if no one lived there and that was just a facade. In any other context he would’ve found it at least suspicious and Moody would’ve probably did a number in terror of finding something under the perfect appearance, but he knew from Harry’s letters and Hermione’s stories that here it was normal, therefore he didn’t ask questions that could embarrass Harry further, also because his room was decidedly much more chaotic, very similar to his home.

"I'm glad you and Hermione had a great time this summer," said Harry, who was quickly throwing books into his trunk, perhaps to break the silence. Viktor didn’t know what to answer, after all they weren't really friends, so he limited himself to helping him with a spell that caused books, clothes and telescope to be lifted mid-air and then fly where they needed to be, something his mother had taught him and had saved him a lot of time since he learned to juggle it. When they returned to the kitchen they found Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore studying the microwave, Hestia Jones laughing at a potato peeler she had found rummaging in the drawers and Remus sealing a letter, that he explained was addressed to Harry's uncles to warn them not to worry, that Harry was fine and they would see him again the following summer, with extreme displeasure of the person concerned. Then Moody casted a spell on Harry which turned him into a human chameleon, a far more complex thing than he and Hermione had used the previous year to go see the dragons, and explained to Harry how the journey would take place, continuing to remark that there was the possibility of dying on the way to Grimmauld Place. Viktor didn't want to die, but foolishly, he thought that if he had to, at least he wanted to have time to give Hermione the Christmas present he had taken her for the Yule Ball.

[svtskneecaps]

Walls Could Talk Part 12 ~ something i need to tell you

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

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warnings: descriptions of anxiety attacks. skip from the marker (2) to the end (you’re not missing much crucial information but i can and will summarize if you're concerned)

feel free to tell me if i need to extend the section, i thought i got the worst of it but as someone with mild issues i have no real experience and want it to be as safe as possible for people; and tell me if i need to add another section (i’ll be out of state when this goes up so i might not be able to get to it right away..... i’m sorry)

“Is there anywhere private we can talk here?”

What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

Faced with Jun’s earnest and almost concerned expression, you stammer out something about outside during lunch. He gives the window an appraising glance. It’s been cooling down quickly, hovering in the low forties most days. He must've seen something he liked, because he turned back to you and said, “Lunch then?”

No really, what the hell are you supposed to say to that?

You drop into your seat as the bell rings, breathless and terrified, your stomach churning like a hurricane as you whip out the math homework due a week ago, the numbers doing little to settle your nerves. That could mean any number of things. Did he notice your none-too-subtle crush? Was he doing this to kindly turn you down? Did he share the sentiment? Or did he--you buried your face behind a tangle of hands and hair, trying to hide the trembling wracking your shoulders--did he find the article from all those years ago and want to confront you about it, forgetting that it was public, that it was immortalized in the online archives? You were joking when you texted 8; no matter how approachable Jun was you had never, never considered telling him. You’d thought it was buried so deep they could never find it.

But it would never really be buried far enough. And, as you dragged yourself out of your protective cocoon for a cursory google of your name, there it was. The first result, since you had long pulled accounts with your name on them off the search results after constant reminders. The unpleasant feeling leaked out of your stomach, lead infecting your veins.

“Last Friday, a local teen was hospitalized after--”

You slammed the computer shut on instinct as it began to read the article aloud to you, like a setting you couldn't shut off. A flush spread across your cheeks as everyone looked back at you. Their gazes lasted only a second, but they tore worse than claws. This whole damn thing was bringing up more memories than you cared to admit, you should've shut down the train before it left the station, should've shut up and sat down and stifled it. He was probably just going to turn your crush down (and in light of the alternatives, it was almost a relief to think that).

You shoved the computer in your backpack as it continued reading, words for your ears alone, muffled and distorted but you’d stared at that damn article for hours after that first day back enough that every word was ingrained in your memory and every rumor rattled in your brain and whispered in your ears when it was quiet, overpowering the comforting chatter of all the objects around you. You put your headphones in and played music as loud as you dared. “Ten minutes,” the clock helpfully reminded you. Ten minutes to the reckoning, for everything to come collapsing down on you. You made a mental note to ask Miss Mendes if you could go to the nurse after lunch; you didn't dare come back here.

Two minutes to Armageddon. You’d asked Miss Mendes. You must've looked sicker than you thought because she didn't hesitate to agree. You'd long finished your math homework, even though you kept breaking your pencil lead and ripping holes in the paper. You fiddled with your pencil, staring at the clock with no small amount of apprehension, trying not to think.

You could hear the class in the background working on a worksheet together, Seokmin’s excited voice rising to the top and making you drowsy, against all logic (not that you particularly minded). Time blurred as your head slumped onto your arms.

The bell broke through your dazed stupor, sending everything crashing back. Your hands started to shake again as you fumbled with your ID, keys jingling against it as you stood. Jun was waiting by the door already, and you lead the way through the halls.

Out by the mascot statue on the side lawn, you’d heard, was the best place to talk privately. From there you could see all angles, and between the mascot’s feet was a small space where one could conceal oneself from all angles. Nobody tended to use it for talking, exactly, but you were banking on Jun not knowing the usual implications of the spot.

“So,” you said, crammed into a spot behind the mascot’s knee, back pressed against the cold statue, speaking in a vain attempt to cover your mounting terror, “what’s up?”

“I--” he started. And then stopped. And then hesitated. And oh no.

Your nerves jangled like your keys, and you had to tear your eyes away, forcing yourself to trace over the graffiti keyed into the statue before you spilled some beans that shouldn't go in the soup. If he didn't know about the article, or your crush, or your-- other thing, then you didn't want to tip him off.

“You-- speak Korean, don't you?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything, that? “That's what we had to talk about?”

“Well, no,” he said (and boy if that didn't send you spiraling back). “I just-- I don't trust my English. And this is important.”

Do you admit it? The secret you’ve held this whole semester? Lay your cards before you? It wasn't really even a question. “Well, my speaking isn't-- I’m not comfortable speaking it,” you said, starting over before you diss yourself because by god you're trying not to. “But if you speak slowly I should understand most things.”

He nodded, and then stared out across the lawn. You went back to tracing the graffiti, hearts with initials from the eighties and the sixties and the twenty tens scratched on the mascot’s heels. An anarchy symbol between the toes. A--

“I’mamindreader,” Jun exploded.

Your head shoots up. “Slower?”

“I--” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can't think of a delicate way of putting this. I’m a mind reader.”

Oh.

(2)

Should you have guessed? Maybe you should have guessed. But- no, what kind of crazy assumption would that have been?? Yes, you talked to objects that didn't have voices on a daily basis but that didn't mean you were just up and guessing what strange power your friends would have, especially after- no he might be listening don't you dare but your heart jumped into your throat unbidden. He was saying something but you felt miles away, watching his mouth move through a telescope because how much did he know?? With the guilt on his face you were sure it was everything and it was like everything you feared most had collided, the car crash morphing into a t-bone between a gas tanker and a train because he knew about your crush knew about the Bad Place knew about Derek knew knew knew he’d violated the one space you’d thought was sacred you wanted to throw up.

“I need space,” you choked out, hands reaching clumsily to pull yourself out of the alcove, and it wasn't the graceful exit you wanted and you felt like every emotion was plastered on your face and you didn't even hear his response as you all but sprinted across the lawn, running for your car as fast as humanly possible.

You collapsed into the driver’s seat and hid your head behind the steering wheel and your hair and your hands, desperately trying not to cry. You already regretted your harsh exit (he’d bared his soul to you and this was how you repaid it? god, you were just vying for the worst, weren’t you, you ranked up there with Derek) but if you'd stayed longer--

You couldn't. You’d done enough harm just by admitting it in the first place. He was your friend, he’d brought you into the fold, and you were terrified of an aspect of himself he couldn't change? And with your reaction, he probably thought you hated him, would never speak to him again. How was he to know you’d panicked on the spot? (unless he was in your mind again but you didn't want to think about it because that was much much worse than him just seeing hatred; he didn't deserve to be dragged into a panic attack no one did it was the most selfish thing you’d ever done).

You sent Miss Mendes a shakily typed email, wishing you’d thought to grab your stuff before leaving. You just thought you'd feel well enough to grab your stuff, no matter which bomb he dropped on you. She shot back a response immediately, concerned but not prying. She promised to leave your stuff by the door, and honestly the twelve thank yous you typed in your response didn't even cover it (what had a person like you done to deserve an understanding angel of a teacher like her?).

Your car threatened to run them over a couple times before realizing it wasn't helping and subsided. There wasn’t much she could offer, right then. You didn't want to talk (you’d explode if you even dared open your mouth).

The walk back up to the building was excruciating. Every step was a chore. Against all logic you felt eyes on you the whole time, judging, whispering, pitying, The hallways were empty, and the feeling just persisted. Each step echoed off the walls, impossibly loud.

True to her word, Miss Mendes had left your things just inside the door. You avoided eye contact, hiding your face with the door and only opening it wide enough to grab your things (you knew what you’d find if you looked up, hatred and betrayal and just the thought made you nauseous).

You spent the remainder of the day in the counseling center. (they let you alphabetize the files in the back room, with the lights off, once you said you couldn't talk about it and just needed a place to hide calm down)

[mamahanu]

All 10 questions for whichever Spidey fics you wish to talk about :)

LOL!

I am so down for this. :-)

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite, and why?

So @spideynamu already asked the first one, and my answer was annoyingly lengthy lol. I’m terrible, and am going to give a short version here, and recommend you scroll down for more deets. ;-)

I have two fics that I like the best. The first is called Chase Them Away from the Harry Potter Fandom (and I need to go and edit that one... oof). It’s from Lily Luna’s POV seeing her dad with PTSD. I like it because it was the first time I wrote from a child’s POV, and because it was a reflection of my own childhood, watching my father deal with PTSD (he is a Vietnam Veteran). 

The second is called Omertà. I like this one because it’s just so fun. I get to pull in a whole bunch of Marvel characters, and write manipulative people, and it was a type of story I really wanted to read, but couldn’t find. Seriously, I found tons of mob Tony Stark stories. Why isn’t there one with Peter working for the actual mob boss in Marvel? I love canon-divergence, so it’s been really fun to write. 

2. Which scene was your favorite to write in Omertà?

There are two. One is yet to come, so I won’t tell you. It’s close to the end and is already written. Can you believe that? I take almost two months off of this fic, and I’ve got two scenes from near the ending done. Shame on me. ;-) My favorite that’s already written is the beat-down from Fisk then the Wesley conversation afterwards. That was the first scene that I visualized for this fic, from Peter getting into the car all the way to the thing with the phone. I was MOST excited to post that chapter, because of that sequence. 

3. Which part of Bear the Burden of Responsibility was hardest to write?

I have a whole chapter from Doctor Strange’s perspective. I thought going into it that it would be fine. I know Stephen. I’ve seen the movie. I’ve seen some cartoons from Marvel. I’ve read him in some comics. Easy-peasy, right? WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONG! He is a very difficult character to nail down. He’s snarky, but not too snarky. He’s mystical, but also realistic. He’s sneaky and mysterious AF. And his background and powers and all of that is pretty fantastical. I’m still not sure I got him right, to be honest. 

4. If you could change anything in Sunday Dinner, what would it be?

I make Tony really harsh, I think. I like flawed Tony. I really, really like flawed Tony. I feel there isn’t enough of him out there. But I painted him really negatively, and upon re-reading it, I think I would want him a little softer. 

5. Did you make an outline for Fake News? Did you stick to it?

Nope. I had a conversation with my husband about how they were going to cover it up, and then I immediately wrote until it was done. :-)

6. Which scenes did you cut, and which were added in (Not Just) Father’s Day?

I cut some gifts, actually. Or rather, I edited some gifts. For the fishing scene, Peter had given Ben a tool set, but that didn’t fit with the rest of the gifts which were all handmade. Then, it was a tool box, but I thought that was too easy, because he’s so super smart. Thus, the homemade telescope was born. I added the scene with Tony. The story wasn’t a 5+1, it was just a 5, because I love Ben, and I didn’t want anything to overshadow him. Later, I decided to add the +1 with Tony, because really, his relationship with Peter is pretty important in MCU, and I hadn’t found many fics about Tony’s transition to Iron-Dad, you know? He’s still figuring everything out, and I wanted to capture that. 

7. Who was your favorite character to write in Omertà?

Fisk or Wesley, hands down. I love Netflix Daredevil. The way those two are portrayed is magical. It’s so noir and gangster and the way they both manipulate all the puzzle pieces? The way they manipulate each other? I just love the way they speak and act, and I had a really good time writing these absolutely horrible people. 

8. Which came first, the title or the fic?

The fic always comes first. The title is my last priority. Which is probably why my titles are terrible. 

9. Which idea came to you first in Fake News?

The interview with Sam and Bucky. I wanted to get to that end so badly. I almost didn’t write the beginning. I just wanted to write Peter watching those two pick on him. The whole time in my head I’m picturing Tom Holland telling Anthony Mackie he won’t do a chat show with Mackie because of the shit Mackie gives him. 

10. What are some facts readers may not know about (Not Just) Father’s Day?

I am a pretty firm believer in write what you know. Every one of those scenes was something that happened for me in some capacity in real life. The hand print and picture frame were two gifts my child gave to my husband on Father’s day, and my hubby was touched. I gave my dad a coffee mug and made him coffee when I was small. I watched my Grandpa make Rouladen. I went fishing with my Dad at a god-awful time in the morning. We freaked out together over my college acceptance letters. Even the scene in the graveyard is a reflection of when my dad and I talk about my mom and some of the happy memories we have of her. That can be said for a lot of my fics. There is some nugget of real life and truth from my own experiences nestled in there.

That was SO FUN! Thank you for the amazing ask!!!

For those of you not following @silentsaebyeok, go read her stuff. Oh my gosh, she’s amazing. If you like Spidey, and Iron-Dad, just... just do it. 

Thanks again!

[imagining-sio]

Escapism I

Chapter one: Wlecome to Mount Eaton

I’ve always loved a biker!bucky Au so viola...

Bucky Barnes x reader

——————————————————————————

It was the perfect place to vanish. The whole town was nestled between the mountains at one end, and the lakeside off to the other. The only border was thick dense woodland. One where people who search for Bigfoot would only dream of going.

The town itself was a small four stoplight kind of place. It was the “They kept the old buildings in their original paint because it held charm” kind of place. A far reach from the hustle and bustle of where I once called home. I gripped the steering wheel as I drove down the mountainside. The olive green ford bronco held all the contents I wanted to take with me. All that I couldn’t find myself living without. It was a depressingly small amount. However over the course of my trip across states I had accumulated quite a bit.

I knew what was waiting for me in this sleepy town, as I drive through it I could see a few heads turned, given they had never seen my vehicle before. I could only give a tight lipped smile as I kept driving toward the outskirts of town, near the lakeside.

I pulled up onto the inclined street of my new residence, and was surprised to find a gathering of motorcycles on one side. There was a house on either side. The house accompanied by at least 8 motorcycles was bustling with life. The garage was blaring old classic rock music, it was his kind of music. I felt a chill run up my spine at the thought.

I turned my attention to the small house across the street. I recognized the small sedan from the realtor three weeks ago; back when I was motel hopping. The middle aged woman was busy on her phone glaring in sustain at the neighbors across the street.

I placed my vehicle in park in the driveway, taking a deep inhale before hopping out of my beloved Oliver.

“Miss Y/L/N; so good to see you again! I just came by to drop off your keys to your home.” The woman sauntered up to me as she finished her text.

“Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry we couldn’t do this earlier. I just want to thank you for letting the movers in when I wasn’t here.” I smiled gratefully, letting my fingers drift over the keys. This was my house. This was to be my home. My new start.

“Oh it’s no trouble dear! You didn’t need to pay me extra for that. I know it’s hard getting your things across state lines at the same time.” She dismissed me with a small chuckle. She clearly liked the extra pay, as in she had only told me now about how it was extra.

“Well thank you again.”

“Just one last thing before you go sweetie. Be careful with your new neighbor. They are not particularly liked round town.”

My brows furrowed, and I peered across her shoulder toward the crowded garage. The music somehow got louder, and was project across the street. Truthfully, any noise complaint could be solved by telling them to turn it down.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Honey, they are a biker gang.” She handed me a card; “This is my husband’s company card, I’ll put in a good word for you to get a security system.”

With that she went back to her luxury sedan and drive off. She didn’t mention that on the house tour, then again they weren’t there. Also that would explain why the house itself was dirt cheap, Apart from lack of curb appeal.

‘Just as long as they don’t come bothering me there won’t be a problem,’ I told myself. I walked up to the porch and unlocked the front door. Apparently my realtor also took up interior decorating. The place was arranged in all the wrong ways, there was barely any life in it. Once I got my stuff settled I would be sure to move it.

I couldn’t beat the backyard view, though. I had a lovely fire pit to stargaze with my telescope. The house was surround by the tall tall trees, and the music from across the street was muffled by the sound of the lake and the trees. A small dock led out far enough to dive right into the waters. Though I doubt, with how frigid the weather is right now, I would do that.

Still; it felt like I belonged here. That was a good omen at least.

I walked back and forth between the trunk of Oliver and my new home, every now and then glancing at my neighbors; intently watching for any movement toward my side of the street. As I went to grab the last box of my belongings, I noticed the garage was dispersing toward the curb.

It was quite the eclectic bunch, they were mostly broad shouldered, well built people all around. They certainly differed in height, ranging from my height, which was about five foot five inches; to the two tallest being about six foot seven. The eight of them planting themselves onto their respective bikes. They all however were giving me a kind smile, and a small wave before they rode off. At first I don’t know how to respond, but I simply just gave a small waving acknowledgment gesture akin to theirs and went on with my business. By this time it was just about sunset.

When I came back out to close Oliver up and place him in the old garage I found a lone figure, most likely my new neighbor; from his detached garage toward his matte black mailbox. He had on a leather jacket, black in color, under it a grey shirt. His pants were fraying at the knee, most likely from overuse.

He had this air about him, a cockiness. Whether it was from the cigarette that dangled between his lips; or the way he dismissively glitter through his mail. Something about him was both intriguing and at the same time, not.

I shut the trunk with a heavy sigh, purging my thoughts, not even sparing a second glance as I went to shut my front door.

—————————-——————————————

It had been two whole months since I moved here. By that time I had grown accustomed to the town, and them to me. The local florist began to supply succulents after I expressed my interest; thus the reason for my increased cactus collection. It also brought him more business with the children round town, or at least those with internet access.

The general store was the hub for everything groceries and town social meetings. The suburbanites would occasionally paruse into town, but only for school functions. Everyone and their mother was so intrigued to find out just why I, a young single woman with no children, had decided to move here. They were also interested about why I moved across the street from the local gang of bikers. They were more adamant about the latter.

Truthfully, I hadn’t had any trouble from my neighbor, or his budding social life. I wasn’t the only other young single woman in town, his nightly company was a clear indication of that fact. A new woman almost every other night. I never told anyone else that, mainly because I expected they already knew.

My job at the bookstore was perfect; everyone in town loved it because it doubled as a coffee shop. When you bought a coffee, you could also take a book off the shelves to read, as long as you left it at the table when you were finished, wed put it back. If you wanted to buy it, you could do that too.

I was probably the youngest employee these people ever had; by the looks of the town, not many young people were looking for a job here. However, the owners, an elderly married couple, happily accepted me. They were like the great aunt and uncle I never had. It was a refreshing spin from my old job, and I could still pursue my hobbies in the lulls between the breakfast and lunch rush.

“Y/N dear, would you mind closing up tonight?” Edna, the owner and coworker piped up from the back.

“Not at all,” I wrote down the order of the tall blonde in front of me, asking myself why someone should name their child Thor. His accent was Norwegian, so I couldn’t really fault them there. Then again, I’m not about to pick a fight with the leather clad lumberjack.

“What book would you like, sir?” I asked, as was routine.

“The Silmarinion if you have it.” He smiled warmly. Couldn’t fault him for having great literary taste either.

“Edna! One coffee with milk; Two lattes, one iced tea, a hot chocolate, and one black coffee to go if you’d please!” I called.

“Oh! Thor’s back?” I’ve never seen a 72 year old move so fast. I chuckled as I went to find the book he requested. I searched through the aisles, with no such luck. I remembered that someone else had asked for the book and they had already left. Perhaps it was on one of the tables outside, it was a bright day and the weather just right. I walked outside and checked the outdoor tables, finding the book instantly.

As I went to reach for the book, the roar of an engine made me jump. I couldn’t understand how a bookstore coffee shop was so close to an auto part store garage that loud, and still have such healthy business. I glared at the storefront, it’s open garage adjacent to our windowed storefront. ‘Barnes & Rogers’ had to be some sort of trademark infringement. The amount of motorcycles outnumbered the automobiles. The music radiators from the shop with a heavy rock and roll base you could feel from across the street.

I could only glare as I went back on with my day. I handed the book in question to the large burly man.

“Here we are.” I said with a smile. He gave a wide smile and a thank you before taking a seat. I went back behind the counter to help place the coffees into the to go bags.

“Y/N would you be a darling and help Thor deliver the drinks to his coworkers.” Edna wrote the respective orders onto the cups before placing them in their carriers; “My husband usually does it but he���s out sick today.”

“Sure, lemme just take the apron off.” I undid the bow around my waist and hung the emerald apron upon a hook.

“Thor honey; Thomas is out today, so Y/N volunteered to help you today.” She hand him one of the carriers. He traded her with the book, giving a grateful and gruff thank you.

“This way, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. It was like he was a big teddy bear disguised as a lumberjack god. He held the door open for me as we walked down the street. It was nice, until I figured out where we were headed.

“So I hear you are the new girl? Yes?” He tried to make polite small talk.

“Yes I am? But you don’t sound like your from around here either?” I shot back playfully. He laughed.

“Indeed I am not, but I like it here. It reminds me of home.” He smiled fondly.

“That’s good.”

“How do you like your new home?”

“I couldn’t ask for better. The house is just the right amount of space for me.”

“And Bucky?”

“Who the hell is bucky?” I asked.

“You haven’t met your neighbor yet?” He quirked a brow. So that was his name. What is it with this town and their oddly named people?

“It appears I have not.” I said dryly, still somewhat grateful I hadn’t.

“Well we’ll soon fix that.” He opened the door for me as we walked into the shop. He ushered me through another door and we were both smack dab in the center of the auto shop.

There was a loft which led to what looked to be the office of the place. Cars were either on jacks high enough for the men to work below them, or being torn apart. Sometimes it was both. A few of the motorcycles were being worked on. And other people were fabricating iron. The sparks flew on the other end of the large shop. I watched as the masked figure welded metal together. The yellow glow making a heavily aura.

“Barnes!” His voice boomed like thunder; “coffee is here!”

“About damn time!” Voices chimed together. I watched as the welder looked up before setting the equipment aside. He removed his gloves and torn off his mask, revealing the head of brunette locks.

Of course my neighbor was the one I was ogling; How else could god make it more awkward for me?

“Who’s the girl?” The first man to approach said slyly. His smile was warm and kind. His hair was clipped close to his head, and a healthy stubble grown along his goatee.

“This is Y/N,” Thor explained, whilst handing the man his drink.

“As in the Shithead’s new cute neighbor he’s too afraid to talk to?” He raised a brow, as well as a smirk.

“Indeed;” Thor nodded with the same expression.

“I’m gonna get some mileage outta this.” He sipped his coffee before turning his attention toward me.

“Hi, I’m Sam Wilson. You can refer to me as the handsome one.” He joked. I chuckled, shaking his hand with a smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

“He isn’t be too bothersome is he?” Another tall blonde walked up, his hair a lot shorter than Thor’s. His white shirt was stained with grease and oil. He had a towel thrown over his shoulder, what he probably used to wipe his hands with. He himself looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place where.

“Not at all.”

“Here I’ll take that.” He gestured to the coffee carrier. I gratefully handed it to him.

“How you liking the house?” He asked, handing out the beverages to their respective owners. My eyes widened at the question, before quickly going into fight or flight mode.

“Excuse me?” I began to pale.

“Oh, sorry! That sounded really weird!” He quickly apologized.

“Well done Rogers.” Sam sipped his coffee to hide his smile.

“Can it Wilson.” He elbowed the man.

“I meant was we were there when you finished moving in. I mean, we’re always at Bucky’s house anyway, so we’re bound to see you on occasion.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Rogers. As in the name of the shop. And whom is a frequent to my mysterious neighbor. The one who is a leader of a biker gang. Who co owns the shop with Rogers. Which I am standing in and handing out coffee to.

Fucking hell. Don’t die just talking to them. Play it off somehow dammit.

“Oh! Right! Yeah, that doesn’t sound so weird after explaining it.” I said with nervous chuckle; “I do love the house, I can’t complain.”

I most definitely could complain, but not in front of them.

“Hey Barnes, come get your shit coffee!” Sam hollered toward my neighbor.

“I’m coming!” He yelled back dismissively ruffling his hair out of his low bun. His long sleeved black shirt stuck to him like a second skin, in which I felt bad for the seams.

“Come meet your neighbor while your at it. How come you never told us she was so cute!” Sam said condescendingly, only adding to the mans annoyance.

“What the hell are you talking about you fu-“ his cut short mid syllable as soon as he locked eyes with me. Me, in my striped three quarter shirt and jeans looking like a French tourist. The only pop of color was a pair of red sneakers due to my job description.

Him, in his taught black shit and dark washed jeans that looked like they were too tight around his thighs. His hair the perfect length to still be short and place in a bun without looking too creepy. The blue eyes that contained more depth than the ocean itself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” I outstretched my hand.

“Bucky,” he ignored me and walked toward Rogers for his coffee.

“Bucky, manners,” Rogers held his beverage out of reach.

“Screw you Steve; give me my coffee.” He clearly was irritated.

“Manners; then coffee.” The blonde said sternly, holding the cup close to his mouth. The brunette growled, sending goosebumps up my arms.

“Stop acting like you drink coffee Steve, we all know you won’t do it.” The brunette smirked. I guess I know who ordered the hot chocolate.

“My point still stands.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he glared at Steve, who had maneuvered behind me, as he shook my hand.

“It’s nice to be met; I can’t say the same for you at the moment,” I couldn’t stop the sarcasm from spewing out my mouth. A silence fell over the room. The brunette in front of me gave a surprised look, our hands still clasped together. The tension made me start to sweat.

And then the room was filled with laughter once again. It flooded the entire plain.

“I like her,” Sam patted his hand upon my back. Steve at last handed James his coffee, and the man sulked back angrily over to his corner where he resumed welding.

“I think that was the first time I’ve seen Barnes speechless,” Steve spoke with a fond smile.

“Thor! Bring her around more often!,” another man, shorter with spiky hair shouted as he walked away; “wen need someone to keep Barnes’ ego in check!”

“I heard that!”

“Are you always like this?” I asked Steve. He shrugged.

“Pretty much, Besides me or Sam; Buck is in charger of the shop.”

“What he means to say; is that we’re pretty much one big happy family.” Sam three his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m not happy,” The spiky blonde spoke up again.

“Oh my god Clint! We know! You’re never happy until you see your wife and kids every night! Jesus you are whipped, man” Sam and the man Clint walked off, laughing as they did.

I could only glance at the man in the corner I had just met. He barely spoke a word to me, and yet I somehow found out more about him in the time he hadn’t spoke.

I could only watch as he finished the piece he was welding together, sliding his goggles up further upon his forehead. He stared at the piece with great scrutiny, making sure what he had was perfect. The intestity of those blue eyes. It had an effect upon me.

The same way a lamb had when facing a wolf, especially when those big blue eyes were on you.

[amadgirltm]

UPDATED: Verse 08: Corona

Verse 08A; Corona

Alice is considered Nobility, and once lived in Old Corona, until a certain alchemist happened to start causing chaos, and her home just happened to be caught in the crossfire.  Since then, her family’s moved to the inner city, but that doesn’t stop her from visiting the older city often.

Alice has taken a strong liking to astrology, and astronomy, and has begun to chart out the stars that she sees with her naked eye. Her goal in life is to eventually be able to afford a real actual working telescope, and to have her own space to work on her own star charts. As long as nothing goes wrong in the kingdom that is...

This Verse is Anything prior to the episode Queen for a Day

Tag: V.8A ( collecting stars and dreams );

Verse 08B: Stardrop

The Link to the Full Bio is HERE

But quick Synopsis: Alice has powers similar to that of the moon and sun drop, however, her’s are much more uncontrollable and are tied directly to her emotions. She must find a way to bring balance between the moon and sun drop in order to control her powers.

Tag:  V.8B ( shine brighter than the sun );

Verse 08C: Grown

Anything that happens when Alice is an Adult, she’s still living with her family, and is being sought after by a young guard named Daniel. She despises him, but her mother wants her to marry him. She’s searching for any way out.

Tag: V.8C ( woke up into a nightmare );

Verse 08D: Saporia AU

                    Everything happens the same until Queen for a Day: Varian ends up trying to get Rapunzel’s help with the Amber, however, She doesn’t help him (Just as in canon). He goes back & Ends up trying to free his dad himself but instead gets himself trapped in the Amber. Cue Alice finding him, and trying to get Rapunzel to help, again She doesn’t. She has to put the whole of the kingdom first. Alice does not fight Rapunzel, instead, she starts planning things, and then Rapunzel leaves on her journey to find her Destiny. Alice spends this time working, and studying up on Alchemy, and trying to figure out what exactly Varian used. 

                    Alice ends up in jail a few months later due to stealing stuff from the castle, more specifically she finds her way in and steals the flower. She ends up in the same cell as Andrew. She’s already figuring out how to escape, but they end up talking. He offers his assistance in freeing Varian and Quirin since none of her attempts have worked, He also promises a chance to get back at Rapunzel & co. Alice accepts, saying that she’s in charge though. And Proves her point by using her vorpal blade to get them out of their prison cell. (It’s magical, of course she still has it). 

                  They end up taking over the kingdom, Alice leading and planning things out the whole time. Unlike Varian, Alice actually is in charge due to her sword, her skills, and her lack of obvious remorse over hurting people.

>Verse will change depending on if Rapunzel returns, and if Rapunzel is willing to help Alice >Possible variant of verse: Rapunzel frees Varian and his father before stopping the Saporians, meaning that Alice is still in charge of the kingdom >Can take place during any point within this timeline

tag:  V.8D ( they’ll pay if it happens again );

Verse 08E:  Post Season Three

       Anything that happens after the first episode of Season Three/After Queen for a Day.

         Alice had been turned away from the guards every time she attempted to see Varian, leaving her feeling lost and a bit hurt. However, she didn’t give up on him. Not until he was suddenly taking over the kingdom, and working with the Saporians. Alice attempted to talk to him, only to be taken away by a few saporians (ordered by Andrew) to the mines, where she was forced to work for three days without breaks or food. (Varian did not know about this). 

         After the first episode of season three, Alice no longer trusts Varian, and believes it was him who forced her out of his life, and believes that he betrayed HER trust. She is very upset, and is not willing to talk things out, she’s angry, and depressed and feels alone. She’s not willing to trust ANYONE again (besides Feldspar). However, she still believes there’s good in him, and wishes she could trust him again. It will not take much to befriend her again, but a sincere apology and perhaps a bit of bribery by sweet treats may sway her back to his side. (How can she ever deny being such a sweet boy’s friend?)

Tag:   V.8E ( pull your knife out of my back );

Verse 08F: Adopted Sisters

      Rumors circulated Old Corona, that Helen Kingsleigh was hurting her daughter. Quirin, being in charge, ended up looking into the manner, and found the rumors to be true, although he couldn’t prove it. The daughter was easily given up, with Helen claiming she couldn’t take care of all three children. Taking the young girl home, he found himself unsure what to do. He already a three year old son, and had recently lost his wife- he couldn’t take care of another child. He called upon the Captain of the Guard, who came and met the four year old Alice, deciding to take her in himself. 

       Alice grew up alongside Cassandra ( @moonstonetm !), whom she looked up and admired greatly. However, Alice also finds herself constantly comparing herself to her sister, and finds herself increasingly jealous of Cass. Her love for her sister is never a question, but she tends to act out in order to try and get attention in any way she can from her sister (typically at Cass’ expense). 

        In this AU, Alice is being trained to be a guard as well, and while she is excellent, and even exceeding, at swordsmanship, she does not have the temperament or attention span to be a guard. However, Alice is still often assigned duties and jobs just as Cassandra is. She is never given an official position, instead she often sneaks out of the castle grounds and into the town, and even to Old Corona sometimes (often getting both her and Cassandra in trouble).

Tag:  V.8F ( i will guard you with my life );

Verse 08G: Warmonger Alchemist

Alice is a brilliant young inventor and alchemist, living with her father (a retired pirate) in Old Corona. She’s not the only one either! Nearby, lives the genius Varian, whom she often shares ideas and supplies with. Together, they’ve earned quite the reputation, labeled as a wizard and witch, who deal with dangerous and rare magic. However, they often work at Alice’s house more than his, due to her father being much more accepting of their unique hobby. While Varian often overlooks things, Alice tends to be much more particular in what they do, and will often stop Varian before his projects get out of hand. Together, they’re a real force to be reckoned with.

Then, Rapunzel showed up on their doorstep, asking for answers for her hair. Unlike in the series, it wasn’t one of Varian’s projects that caused them to receive no answers: no, it was a miscalculation that ended up labeling her hair as a rock instead. Varian also has no need during the expo to look for a partner, as he already as has Alice willing to work with him.

However, the events of Queen for a Day play out VERY Differently, as Varian and Alice are both working diligently on trying to fix the rock issue. and Alice’s father comes to check on them, letting them explain what they were doing, before testing a new serum. As far as they know, it doesn’t do anything, and Alice’s father sends Varian home, also Sending Alice upstairs to eat something. This is when the Amber encased him.

Alice proceeds down Varian’s route within the show, slowly descending into her own madness and using manipulation, alchemy, Dinah, and her inventions to fight and try to find a way to free her father. Unlike Varian, Alice also uses these skills in both alchemy and wonderlandian magic to run away at the end, and get away from the Corona guard before she can be arrested.

Whether or not Varian helps her, decides to leave her, or fight against her is up to who ever interacts with this verse

tag:  V.8G ( there’s hell to pay );

Verse 08H: Replacement Rapunzel

          Helen never wanted the blonde girl, and it didn’t take much to convince the local ‘mayor’ of sorts to take her. After all, a baby is so much work, and what use for it does she have? 

           That’s how Quirin ended up swaddling the baby, only a few days old, in the Throne room of the Corona Castle. Unsure what to do with the child, given that he had his own to take care of.  The King and Queen took one look at the child, and felt their hearts stop. She looked so similar to the lost princess, until she opened her eyes, and bright blue stared at them instead of green. Sure, she was a few years too young, but she was still, practically perfect. Like a gift sent to them from the heavens.

                     The kingdom was growing worse every day, yes they prospered, but without the princess, and without security of knowing what would happen if something happened to the king and queen? Well, things were tense to say the least. 

                            So, they decided to take the young blonde, Alice, they were told her name was. But that would be the most well kept secret King Fredrick had. After all, the next day, it was announced that the Lost Princess had been found, by Quirin, along with the witch who had stolen her, and had kept her young. They displayed the long blonde locks, and the small baby that looked just like she had when she had been stolen. The Kingdom rejoiced.  Finally, Rapunzel was home.

            Growing up in the castle, trained in protocol, and royal duties, Rapunzel was practically a perfect princess. The only thing was that she always kept her eyes down, and out of sight at all times.

             Imagine EVERYONE’S surprise when Flynn Rider shows up with a woman named Rapunzel, with short brown hair and green eyes, whom he claims is the real princess. And the younger, fake Princess Rapunzel’s whole world is twisted, and suddenly she’s now the lost princess, just metaphorically. 

tag:  V.8H ( practically perfectly replaceable );

Verse 8, Version I: Moon Warrior

        Quick Synopsis: 

Alice is the newest addition to the brotherhood, however, her mission is not only to protect the moonstone, but to locate those left from the kingdom.

          Bio:

Alice was born, and instantly forgotten. She was found as a child by Hector. She was trained by him to be a warrior, a fighter, a killer. At age ten she was sworn into the brotherhood, pledging herself and her life to the moonstone, and to the dark kingdom. 

Hector, having to stay to protect the Great tree, has given Alice the task of locating any other members of the dark kingdom. Not to make them return, but to be sure that they’re alive. 

        Note: 

Alice has no knowledge of Corona, nor the people within it. She has no prior emotions for anyone. And is likely to treat others with hostility, and violence, have a lack of manners, as well as speak in a bit of strange ways. She also has a pet Bearcat, whom she rides, and who she calls “Teddy.”

Tag: V.8I ( Swear to the Moon );

 Verse 8, Version J: Trapped Within

    Alice wakes up being told that it is her Wedding day. When she looks in the mirror, it not her sixteen year old face that looks back at her, instead it’s some woman. One that she wouldn’t recognize without that typical blue ribbon in her hair.

     No one in Corona sees anything wrong with this, In fact, everyone is acting as if the missing four years had happened. Apparently, somewhere down the line Rapunzel and Cassandra had made up? Alice had gotten engaged? Eugene was prince now? Alice didn’t live with her mother.

            Honestly, it didn’t sound TOO bad. Actually, it was a dream come true. Which was Alice’s issue with everything. No one just FORGETS four years of their life, and when Alice shows up on time somewhere?

                 Well, she realizes, it’s time to wake up. And to figure out who-or WHAT- is trying to keep her here.

Who ever wants to interact with this verse can either:

                     A.) also be 'awake' and be aware that something is wrong

or

                      B.) try to convince alice that everything is fine and okay.

Tag: V.8J ( WAKE UP ALICE );

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 106

Episode: Futari wa Precure Splash Star 08 - “I Love You! Minori and her Two Big Sisters” Date watched: 2 March 2019 Original air date: 26 March 2006 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/nYsrXmP Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

and I am the best character in this show (except Kintolesky)

Remember episode 8 of Futari wa when Nagisa and Honoka had a big fight and couldn’t look each other in the eyes, only transformed reluctantly, and fight-talked things out while facing a bad guy? Remember episode 5 of Splash Star when Kenta spilled tea on the book Saki was borrowing and she got really mad at him? Put them together and you have this episode:

Over breakfast, Minori accidentally knocks a cup of milk onto Saki’s skirt, and Saki angrily tells her to be more careful. That evening, Mai is visiting and showing off a really good drawing of a dog that she made. Minori starts goofing around and accidentally knocks a glass of juice onto the picture. Saki immediately snaps and starts yelling at her, because that drawing was one-of-a-kind after all and she’s already been warned to be more careful. (To be entirely fair to Saki, Minori was simulating an entire softball game in the room, which is kind of a terrible idea, but kids are not known to be the most rational thinkers.) Mai tries to tell Saki that it’s okay, and not to be so hard on Minori, but Saki insists that Mai wouldn’t understand.

same energy

Mai decides to leave for the day and Saki kind of sits there in shock. That night both of them sit in regret, wondering if they could have handled things better. Choppi advises Mai that she understands better how Minori felt because she is also a younger sister. Both girls decide to patch things up at school the next day but can’t manage to talk to each other. After school, Minori decides to return Mai’s journal to her, as she left it behind the previous night in her rush. Mai takes the chance to sit down and talk to Minori and console her in a park, admitting that because she’s also a little sister she understands what Minori is feeling. Mai relates a story from her youth when she broke her brother’s telescope, and she was afraid he would hate her forever. He was mad at her of course, but they did make up, and so can Saki and Minori. Meanwhile, the Hyugas are worried because none of them knows where Minori is, so Saki goes looking for her. She finds her sister and Mai in the park, under attack from a new general of Dark Fall.... Moerumba, whose two main weapons are fire and gratuitous Spanish.

Moerumba recognizes that Saki and Mai are Precure and he turns a spring animal into an Uzainaa to jump on them, but narrowly avoids getting squashed himself. Minori gets knocked unconscious, the heroines transform, but due to their disharmony they can’t use the power of the spirits. It’s similar to the setup of Max Heart movie 2, but like in FW08 they talk their feelings through while trying to beat up the monster. When Egret explains where she was coming from, and reminds Bloom that Minori really loves her, they begin to turn around. The monster launches a fireball in the general direction of Minori, and Bloom rushes over to block the attack. She begs Egret for help protecting her sister, and Egret agrees that this is how a big sister should act. Moerumba combines with the Uzainaa to become a huge fireball and dives at the girls. It looks like they’ve been wiped out but they actually are more powerful than ever, the energy of the spirits is flowing out of them.

With the tide of battle turned, Bloom and Egret perform Twin Stream Splash and the Uzainaa dissolves into a bunch of fire spirits. Moerumba looks down from the sky and remarks that they may be tougher than he expected.

When Minori wakes up the girls awkwardly pretend they didn’t see any monster (look at these faces)

Saki apologizes to both her sister and Mai for overreacting and promises to remain friends with both of them. Mai tells them there is one thing they can do to make it all up to her....

That’s right, she gets them to pose for a drawing. It actually turns out very well, and they all love it. The image gets colored in as the episode fades to the credits, you can check that version out in the gallery.

What can I say about this episode.... it’s the break up episode. It’s got aspects of similar episodes, but it manages to slice out its own take very nicely. And honestly, it is good to show kids that sometimes disagreements happen, sometimes you say the wrong thing or overreact, and it’s important to make up and talk out your feelings. Mai sympathized with Minori so heavily because she’s been in the same position, but she also understood Saki’s frustration and she tried to appeal to her sensibilities a little, because yeah, Saki did fly off the handle a bit, ranting at Minori and saying she would never play with her ever again. I mean come on, she’s like 6

well I’ve been wrong before

Anyway, at the end when Mai and Saki have reached an understanding she says she’ll keep playing with her and that’s nice. I didn’t get the impression that Minori really felt the full weight of her actions that led to the accident, and I wish they had used that as a learning point about appropriate times and places to play, but this episode was more about Saki anyway so I’ll let it go.

Who wants to talk cinematography? There’s some good use of lighting in this episode. Saki and Minori are cast in shadow a lot while talking to or about Mai, a visual representation of their guilt. Also, the bulk of the episode takes place at sunset and a lot of shots are colored with a gorgeous orange glow, or a more menacing purple for the fight scenes.

Now I didn’t get to say a lot about Moerumba in the summary, so let’s talk about him now. Moerumba is gloriously flamboyant. He wears a red bodysuit with pink gloves and boots, yellow flame accents, and green highlighting on his chest. He has fluffy, fiery hair that would make an 80s band jealous. He wears lipstick and earrings and eyeshadow. He’s playful and high spirited, he likes to do little dances, and he spices up his vocabulary with gratuitous Spanish. He refers to the girls as “Señoritas” and once as “Señoritacos” and he is just all around fun to watch. He’s the polar opposite of Karehaan and he’s the spice this show needed.

I’m about out of things to say about this episode, but as you can see I enjoyed it. I’ll be back soon with some puppets! Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 Zekkouchou Nari! (well there was one but Minori said it, not Saki)

Miracle Drop Count: 1

[poppibranchlover]

The Queen and the Butterfly II: The Witch’s Curse - Part 9

This story is a sequel to “The Queen and the Butterfly”.

The story: Poppy offers Branch some cupcakes with butterflies in it which turns out to be mysterious. When the two Trolls eat them, they got transformed into butterflies themselves and realize that the cupcakes were actually cursed by an evil witch! Now they must try to find the witch who made those cupcakes and get a cure to get themselves back to normal, while encountering obstacles in the process along the way.

You already seen what had happened in Part 8. Now get ready for Part 9!:

That night, Poppy and Branch grew tired and decide to rest for the night again. They found a giant white flower to settle in and they sat there, watching the moon and the stars twinkling through the night sky. It was a peaceful yet beautiful.

“Branch, this feels so beautiful and peaceful!” Poppy said, awestruck by the pretty scenery around them.

Branch sighed as he snuggled himself next to Poppy’s wings and told her “Yeah, it is. Just look at that view! If only we can see it when we’re bigger.”

Deep down, he knows that as a butterfly, it can be a little hard to see the twinkling stars, and as a Troll, some can use telescopes, binoculars or those with good eyesight to gaze upon them. But yet, he didn’t mind because he can see the stars more clearly. Poppy and Branch sighed happily as they took a rest on their flower. “Ahhhhh!!”

After a while, everything felt silent at first. But then, Poppy asked Branch “So you like being a butterfly? It’s amazing to be one!”

Branch turned to her and made a face. “What? Not really,” he replied. “I just always think those wings behind me look annoying to me. And they don’t suit a man like me.”

Poppy grinned at him and told him “Butterflies’ big wings are very important for those creatures! Our wings are just very beautiful when we flap them! Isn’t it great?”

“No, it’s not!” Branch protested. “Why are you saying that?”

“You know, it’s because we are cute little butterflies now!” she said. “And I think we can stay like this forever!”

Branch stood up and bounced to her like a tiny jumping bean. “Poppy, please stop telling me we will live like this forever!” he said. “Being a butterfly makes me uncomfortable and I really hate being one! I don’t look adorable with this!” He said the last words when he stared at his wings.

“Oh, but butterflies are always cute, just like us!” said Poppy. “To be honest, I like being one whenever I fly around!”

She giggled but Branch hopped closer to her and protested “That’s quite adorable! But I keep losing sight of you whenever I try to fly after you. I think it feels dangerous for most butterflies.”

Poppy wasn’t going to give up finishing her conversation with Branch when she begin explaining how butterflies behave like, such as fluttering to flowers and smelling their pollen, camouflaging around the atmosphere and mating with other butterflies so they can gain caterpillars by laying their eggs...

However, Branch is disgusted when she explained the part where butterflies lay eggs and he shook his head, saying “Poppy, we’re not supposed to lay eggs and have caterpillars! It’s more like Cooper pooping cupcakes out of his butt! Ugh!” 

“So what?” Poppy asked harshly, her eyes narrowing at Branch. “You want to be a Troll again when we manage to find a way to turn us back, right?”

“Yeah!” Branch said, his voice even more harsh than Poppy’s. “Right after we ate those cupcakes you bought from that hermit and they turn us into tiny butterflies and we came all the way here lost in the woods because of you!”

These words hit Poppy hard like a rock. She sat down and, with tears in her eyes, she stared at him and asked “You mean...you’re blaming me because of all this?”

Branch immediately shook his head, regretting what he had said. “No no, it’s okay! I just get harsh sometimes whenever I get mad. At least you did feel that...”

“Why? After all this time, you don’t get what life feels like?” said Poppy.

“No!” Branch told her. “It’s not that. My life was all cupcakes and rainbows back when we rescued our friends from the Bergens.”

“And you let out your feelings along the way.”

“Yeah, true thing to say. But I’m feeling like nobody would think about how harsh I am if I keep yelling like this.”

“Branch, you wouldn’t yell at anytroll,” Poppy said. Then she hopped to his side and put a wing to his shoulder. “I’m sorry you felt so cautious. I think maybe we need to change back right now, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Branch murmured sadly. “I think I feel what you’re saying. It’s okay to be so caught up with my protests. Sometimes as a safety nerd, I’d rather spend my days alone in my bunker and just play video games and harvesting food and supplies...”

Unable to utter another word, Branch wistfully stared at the ground with defeat, sighing. He felt that he had really made Poppy disappointed because of what he was saying. But she smiled at him, hoping this is the time to cheer her boyfriend up with something. Then without warning, she leaned in and gave him a hug. A big butterfly hug. She wrapped her big wings around Branch.

“Whoa, whoa,” he said. “What are you doing?! It’s not Hug Time! Butterflies don’t even wear Hug Time watches!”

“No, it’s okay,” Poppy told him. “Even if I’m a butterfly, I just though you could use one.”

Branch looked at her, touched. Poppy hugged him even warmer and cuddlier and he felt her wings touching his little body. He sighed again.

At least he can also make her happy too. Not even if he did that one bit or sooner. So he turned to her and puts his lips closer to her face, as if he was going to kiss her.

But as his lips are getting closer to Poppy’s...

SPLASH!!!

A big burst of raindrop came down on the flower, taking Poppy and Branch down with it! They screamed as they plunged into a stream of rushing water below!

SPLASH!!! SPLASH!!!

Poppy and Branch landed into the water with a splash! As soon as there are signs of life after a few moments, Branch bobbed his head to the surface, gasping for air and coughing some water out of his mouth. He struggled to pull himself up to the surface but the current of the rushing rainwater is too strong! He looked up at the sky and saw that it was already raining heavily!

Which means...Poppy and Branch must get out of here or else...they’ll die here!!

Branch managed to stay afloat in the current, then he looked around the rushing waves he was being pulled in by. He began to call out “Poppy?! Poppy, where are you?! Poppy?! POPPY?!”

Then a wave engulfed him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his body. Branch panicked and moved his wings around, reaching for anything to grab on to, but all he felt was the sensation of being submerged in deep rainwater.

He was still holding his breath and desperately needed air. Branch wanted to attempt using his hair to get himself out, but his hair is so wet he couldn’t do it! He couldn’t even remember how to do it until...

He saw something pink in the distance! Poppy.

“Mmmm!” Branch mumbled through the water. Then he managed to swim to the pink little dot before him. Within moments, he bobbed his head out of the water and saw Poppy holding on to the rock, nearly half-conscious. She is groaning out “Branch.....Branch....?”

“Poppy! Hang on!” Branch yelled, swimming up to her. “I’ll save you!”

He swam up to Poppy, putting his teeth closer to her as if to grab her in his mouth. But the current was pulling Branch backwards so this is making it harder for him to rescue Poppy.

“No no no! Come on!” he muttered while gasping for air and choking some of the water. “Come on! I can’t fly! Must....rescue.....my...girlfriend!!!”

Taking a deep breath, Branch pulled himself harder to fight away the strong current of the water stream. Poppy was almost closing her eyes. But soon, after a minute, Branch had his mouth clenched on one of her wings!

He struggled to pull Poppy out the rock as hard as he can. The raindrops splashed on the water and almost pulled Branch backwards and made him lose his grip on her. But he managed to hold her tightly in his mouth.

Then the current became even more stronger than before, pulling Branch and Poppy underwater!

They just floated in there as the water picked them up and twisted them around and around. They were struggling for air.

They were going to drown like butterflies.

They were going to drown in the dark.

There was water everywhere. Tumbling them over and over, hurling their bodies against the sides of the dirt, until their lungs are about to burst.

Branch swam to Poppy and tried to pull her upwards to the surface. Soon they were hurtled out of the stream and were dived heads first into a larger stream of water.

Only this time Poppy and Branch couldn’t swim. They were too exhausted. They felt themselves sinking into the surging, sludgy water, deeper and deeper, swept along in the tide. They managed to hung onto each other’s antennae so they won’t get separated.

Branch and Poppy found themselves floating towards a rectangular drain hole! They continued gasping for air just as they tried to fight the current and get away from the hole. 

But the current was too strong they couldn’t fight against it. They just kept choking and spluttering, as the roaring water carried them to the hole, sending them to plummet down to deep darkness.

Poppy and Branch screamed as they plummet to their certain doom.

                                                  To Be Continued...

                                              Stay tuned for Part 10!

Note: This is the most dramatic cliffhanger ever. Guys, it’s definitely a cliffhanger. Don’t worry, Poppy and Branch are going to be okay as soon as I make the next part in the future.