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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

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E2: The One in New York City//F.W.

Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. Begins around the end of FRIENDS season 4 with The Wedding and semi follows plots in season 5.

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Romione, Ron x Lavender, Hinny, Georgelina

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, planned pregnancy

Summary: Years after Hermione came back into their lives, the gang finds themselves traveling to New York City for the wedding of the one and only Ronald Weasley. As tensions rise and feelings are revealed, the group has to take on New York and hope for the best.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: A little taste of the story: “I’d pee on you any day of the week.” “What the hell did I just walk into?” Message me to join the series or general taglist!

May 2004

“Guys, hurry up! The flight leaves in four hours! It could take time to get a taxi, there could be traffic, the plane could leave early! When you get to New York there could be a line at customs, come on!” Hermoine Granger was racing through the flat of Fred and George Weasley, the one above their infamous joke shop, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. She grabbed clothing from their drawers and tossed it haphazardly into suitcases, while the twins in question were lounged out on their sofa observing the scene.

You sat wedged between the two boys, leaning your head against Fred’s shoulder with your legs draped across George’s lap. You laughed as Hermione was practically hysterical about getting everything ready, even though she wouldn’t even be going to America.

“Good thing she’s not gonna be on the flight,” Fred whispered into your ear. “A six hour trip to New York? That’s a lot of Hermione.”

Smiling you turned to look at Fred who was holding something in his hand. “What’ve you got there?”

He grinned cheekily and gave you a better look. “Condoms, Y/N! You never know what American hotties I might meet overseas.”

Rolling your eyes you turned to George, who was giving you the same grin. “And I suppose you’re just as prepared as your brother?”

“Of course! Y’know, I feel bad for poor Ronniekins, getting himself all tied down to one woman. Me and Fred, we know how to live, isn’t that right mate?”

“You said it.” You sighed and settled into Fred even more, relaxing for a few minutes before Hermione would drag you all to the airport and you and Harry would be stuck trying to teach the Weasleys how Muggle planes worked.

There was an audible pop as Ron apparated into the room, standing off by the kitchen.

“Hey!” he greeted, causing you to sit up from your comfortable position wrapped in Fred’s arm and go meet your friend with a hug.

“Hey.” You squeezed him tight, noticing how his nerves had overtaken him.

“Are you ready yet?” he asked, fidgeting with his wand.

Before you could respond Hermione came barging out of George’s bedroom and threw two suitcases onto the twins’ laps with what could only be described as superhuman strength. “She’s ready. You have the tickets?”

“Harry and Gin do, they’ll be here any second.” The only current couple of the group, and an engaged one at that, suddenly arrived with another loud pop, startling Fred who had begun to count his condoms to make sure he had enough.

“Hey big brother!” Ginny hugged Ron with enthusiasm, but not as much as Harry showed as he threw himself onto his best friend.

“You’re getting married Ron!”

“I know!”

They stayed wrapped in their hug as they jumped around and around, George clapping along and laughing at the duo.

“Don’t know why Lavender would want to marry a specky git like you,” said the younger twin, “but at least we get to travel to the states for it.”

“And have wedding food,” said Fred.

“Oh and you can’t forget the hot bridesmaids, right boys?” you questioned jokingly.

They shared a mischievous look. “Never.”

A loud bell sounded through the loft, signaling that someone had come in.

“That must be Luna!” Ginny exclaimed. She sprinted down the stairs and wrapped the blonde girl in a hug, being gentle as to not crush her or her pregnant belly.

“Hello Ginny, how are you?”

“Never better! Thanks again for offering to help Hermione watch the apartments and oversee the shop and employees. Ron really wishes you could make it to the wedding, but seeing as you’re about to burst--”

Luna interrupted her old friend with a soft laugh. She was 8 months pregnant with twin boys, and was left home alone for a few weeks while her husband dealt with a work issue in Eastern Asia. Which meant she had plenty of free time to make sure things were running smoothly in London while her friends were overseas.

The two girls were joined by the rest of the gang who had been pushed down the stairs by a frantic Hermione. “Get going, all of you! You’re going to miss your flight.”

“New York baby!” The twins had jumped down from one of the landings, somehow managing not to injure themselves. Although they were now 26 they were never without their childlike energy.

“I’m walking here!” cried Fred in a horrid New York accent.

“Yee haw, cowboy!” said George, doing a little cowboy dance.

You sighed and slapped your head with your hand. “Okay, cause that’s not gonna get annoying.”

They ignored you and continued with their yelling and dancing, dragging as much luggage as they could out the front door of the shop.

“Well,” said Ron, “we’re all here and ready. I guess we should get going!” Harry and Ginny gave Luna one last goodbye as they followed you out to the alley, leaving only Ron, Hermione, and Luna left in the shop.

“So, we’re off,” said Ron, a little awkwardly. He and Hermione had a bit of a rough past, having dated on and off for the past few years. But that was all behind them now, and she was happy that he had reconnected with their friend Lavender from Hogwarts and had fallen in love.

“Have fun, Ron,” replied the bushy-haired girl.

“Thanks,” he said, giving his friend a tight hug. “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re not gonna be there!”

Hermione sighed and pulled back. “Oh I know, I’m sorry.”

“So-so come! Why don’t you come?”

“What?”

“To New York!” Ron was holding Hermione’s hands and jumping up and down. “Come to New York, please? It’ll mean so much to me.”

Hermione hesitated for a moment. She wanted to go, to have a great trip with her friends and visit the historical places she’d read so much about. But she didn’t have it in her to watch her ex-boyfriend get married to someone else.

“Yeah, well, I gotta work, I’m sorry. The Ministry is really up my arse these days, pardon my language.”

“Mione, this is my wedding,” he said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes.

You stuck your head back through the door and called out to them. “Alright, y’know what? Now we really are late, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Ron sighed and let go of his friend, grabbing his suitcase before heading out the door. “I’ll see you when I get back, Mione. Bye Luna!”

Luna and Hermione both gave small waves as Ron pulled the door shut. A resounding “New York, baby” could be heard even from deep inside the shop, and Hermione giggled as her friends made their way to the London airport.

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

“Alright,” said Ginny as you all stepped out into the streets of New York City. “Harry and I will help the groom and bride-to-be get everything set up for their big day. Which means you, Y/N, get the honor of babysitting my older brothers.”

“Ginny I can’t handle them all by myself! We’ve been here for less than 5 minutes and look at what they’re doing already.” You all turned to look at the ginger twins, who were standing on top of a map of the city and staring down at it.

“What is going on with you two?” you asked, but you were quickly silenced as Fred placed his finger on your lips.

“We’re concentrating. We went in the map so we can figure out where we are.” He kept his finger there until you finally removed it and looked at the map they had made, complete with little pop ups of all the important places they wanted to see.

“If you see a little version of me in there, kill it.” Harry laughed at your quip and grabbed Ginny’s hand, waving goodbye as the couple and Ron made their way to meet Lavender and her family.

“We got it!” screamed the twins. They stepped out of the map and started walking right, on to their first tourist destination. “Here we go.”

“Okay, listen,” you said catching up to them, “we’re not gonna have to walk this way the entire time are we?”

Fred shushed you and George groaned. “Y/N, you made me lose it!”

George put the map down and stood back on it. “A lot harder when the map doesn’t change specifically for you and show you exactly where you are, huh?” you asked, referencing the parchment the twins used for years back in Hogwarts.

They ignored you and took off down the street again, their long legs moving so fast you had to almost sprint in order to keep up the pace. This was going to be a long day.

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

Meanwhile Harry, Ron, and Ginny had made it to the Brown’s apartment in New York. Although Lavender was raised in England and attended Hogwarts, her extended family lived in the States and her parents moved there after she graduated. The apartment was rather large, but that was no surprise as the Browns were a wealthy family.

“Oh Won Won!” Ron was greeted at the door with a vibrant Lavender throwing herself into his arms. Ron laughed and spun her around, giving her a quick kiss before finally setting her down.

“Hey Lavender, I missed you.” He smiled warmly at his fiancee, soon to be his wife. After Padma left him right before he was going to propose years ago, Ron decided not to waste any time in popping the question once he and Lavender started dating. They’d only been going out for a few months before he asked, but despite the worried opinions of their friends they were convinced that this was the right thing to do.

Lavender pulled Ron down for another kiss, this one much more passionate than the last. “I missed you too.”

They were pulled apart by an awkward cough from Harry, an arm around Ginny who was covering her eyes to avoid watching her brother make out with someone in front of her.

“Sorry Harry, Ginny,” said Lavender. “It’s great to see you both. Come on in, will you, we have a few last minute preparations to attend to.”

They followed the brunette into her family’s apartment, which was decked out in reception decorations that still needed to be set up. “Where’s the rest of your group? They are coming, aren’t they?”

“Y/N and the twins are out exploring the city,” said Ginny. “I figured you probably didn’t want Fred and George to be around anything important, especially with their history of pyrotechnics. And I don’t trust them alone in the city, so Y/N’s making sure they don’t burn down half of New York.”

Lavender laughed and poured some tea for her friends. “And what about Hermione, is she at the hotel?”

The room suddenly got very tense and Harry quietly sipped his tea, trying to disappear from the awkward scene.

“Umm,” Ron began, “Hermione’s not coming. She can’t get time off at the Ministry and she’s helping watch over our apartments and take care of Luna.”

Lavender nodded sadly, sighing deeply at the news. “I guess it’s all for the best then. She never did like me, did she?”

“No, that’s not true at all,” Ron argued, taking his fiancee's hands. “She’s just...she takes a while to warm up to people. She really wishes she could be here, but you know how work is.”

The girl smiled slightly at Ron’s comforting words. “Yeah, thanks Won Won.”

He squeezed her hands gently.

“Alright then,” said Ginny, “what needs to be done? Even though Parvati is your maid of honor and I swear I’m not upset about it--” Harry elbowed Ginny hard, “--I’m still one of your bridesmaids, and I want my big brother’s wedding to be as amazing as possible. So, what should we do?”

“Well,” Lavender said, clapping her hands, “I need a new venue. The one I had was going to be absolutely gorgeous, but they tore it down early, which means we need a new spot.”

Although Lavender said these words calmly, it was obvious that she was on the verge of tears and the stress was getting to her.

“Got it,” said Ginny. “Let’s go check out the old venue and see if there’s anything we can do. I promise you Lav, this day is going to be amazing, for everyone.”

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

“This is going to be horrible!”

Hermione was pacing around her apartment, the one she shared with you and Ginny. She was packing up Ginny’s belongings for when everyone returned from the wedding. Once Ron moved out of his and Harry’s shared apartment across the hall, Ginny would move in with her fiance, leaving only you and Hermione to share the space. Hermione decided that packing for Ginny would help take her mind off of the wedding, but unfortunately her assumptions were incorrect.

“What’s the matter?” Luna asked from the sofa, leaning comfortably against a pillow with the Quibbler in her hands.

Hermione sighed as she continued to pack. “I’m just bummed about the way I left things with Ron. I shouldn’t have lied to him about having to go to work. He seemed so mad at me.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” the blonde said, not looking up from her reading. “If someone I was still in love with was getting married…”

Luna jumped as a vase hit the floor and shattered. She looked up to see a wide-eyed Hermione staring at her. “Still in love with?!”

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not in love with Ron!” Hermione screamed.

Realization flooded Luna’s face. “Oh, no, good! Yeah, me neither.”

Hermione sat down across from her friend, ripping the Quibbler from her hands and attention.

“Luna,” she said, “I’m not going to Ron’s wedding because he is my ex-boyfriend and that would be really uncomfortable. Not because I’m still in love with him! I mean, I like Ron as much as the next girl. Clearly I still have feelings for him, but feelings don’t mean love! I mean, I still have loving feelings for Ron. But, but that doesn’t mean that-that I’m still in love with him! I-I have sexual feelings for him, but I do love him--oh!” she gasped at her own words. “Luna why didn’t you tell me?”

“We thought you knew!” she said, surprised that Hermione was for once in her life so oblivious. “We talk about it all the time!”

“You all know?” Hermione asked. “Does, does Ron know?”

“Oh no,” Luna answered calmly. “Ron doesn’t know anything.”

Hermione started pacing once again, this time much more frantically. “Oh, I can not believe you didn’t tell me!”

“We thought you knew!” Luna replied. “It’s so obvious. That would be like telling Ginny ‘hey, you like to play Quidditch,’ or you know, ‘George, you’re gay.’”

The pacing girl stopped dead in her tracks. “What?”

“Oh please,” replied the younger blonde, “she’s always got a broom in her hand!”

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

“Alright! The Empire State Building. Hands down, best State building I’ve ever seen.” George pulled out his Muggle camera, still trying to figure out which buttons did what. They were a lot smaller than the one Colin Creevey used to carry around at Hogwarts and George still hadn’t gotten the hang of using Muggle items.

“What do you think of the Empire, Y/N?” Fred turned his head to you as he asked his question. Your legs had gotten tired from jogging to keep up with the ginormous twins so Fred had offered to let you ride on his back the rest of the way, an offer you couldn’t refuse.

You hopped down and quickly covered your eyes to hide from the bright flash of George’s camera. “I don’t know, I can’t see it with that thing blinding me, George.”

He quickly apologized, but not before snapping a picture of Fred wrapping his arms around you and smiling while you glared at the camera.

“Someone’s grouchy today,” Fred said, swaying you back and forth a few times before releasing his grip.

“I’m just tired, jet lag y’know?” He nodded and pointed to his back, letting you know it was alright to get back on. You didn’t hesitate to jump onto the redhead as he followed his brother into the massive building in front of you.

After waiting in line for what seemed like hours you finally made it onto the elevator to take you to the top of the building. George continued to take pictures of anything and everything, including you flipping him off from on Fred’s back. As the doors opened and you stepped out onto the observation deck, you were amazed by the incredible view before you.

Thousands of tiny buildings filled with thousands of tiny people stood before you, or rather below you. It was like you were on your broom and flying high in the sky, except this time time you didn’t have to focus on keeping your broom in check. You could just stand and stare.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Fred came up next to you, leaning on a railing in front of him. He hunched down enough that his face was right next to yours as the two of you stared at The Big Apple.

“It really is.” You looked around for George, but he was off pestering other tourists to take pictures of him and the city behind him. “Remember when we were playing Quidditch at the burrow, and I flew up this high and stayed there for hours?”

“How could I forget,” Fred laughed. “We had to send search parties for you, thought you had been snatched up by dementors or something.”

“Nope, just got a little distracted by the view.” You continued to watch the amazing landscape and incredible sky, not missing the looks Fred was giving you. “What’re you looking at, Weasley? Don’t tell me that I’m more enchanting than the city. I mean, we all know it’s true but try not to make it so obvious.”

You pinched his cheek and he swatted your hand away playfully. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “I was just remembering the time I peed on you to combat the jellyfish sting.”

“Fred!” you whisper yelled, laughing as he put his hands up. “We said we would never talk about that again. I don’t need that reminder!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just too good of a story! Really shows the strength of our friendship.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. Technically you would’ve considered Ron to be your best friend, as you’d known him the longest and had been the closest with him for so many years. But the past few years, living close to Fred and hanging out with him almost every day, he had become the most important person in your life. He was always there to make you smile or laugh when you had a rough day, or wrap you up in a blanket and watch a movie after a horrid date with some arsehole. He was one of a kind, and you were so glad he was in your life.

“Y’know what Fred?” you asked, scooting closer to him. “If you ever got stung by a jellyfish, I’d pee on you too.”

Fred wiped away fake tears from his eyes. “I’d pee on you any day of the week, Y/N,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

“What the hell did I just walk into?” George was standing behind you and Fred, having only heard Fred’s last sentence. The two of you cackled with laughter, bringing George into the hug with you and just enjoying the moment.

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

“Hey Luna?” Hermione called from her bedroom. She and her friend had spent the day discussing her feelings for Ron and trying their best to help her get over him. Apparently recounting the horrors of their relationship was not helping in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Luna called back from the kitchen.

“Do you remember where the pygmy puff food is?” Her muffled voice sounded rushed and anxious, even more so than Hermione usually was.

“Yeah, it’s under the front counter of Fred and George’s shop. Why?”

Luna turned her head to see Hermione come flying into the room dragging a packed suitcase behind her. “Because I’m going to New York.”

The pregnant girl nearly had a heart attack at Hermione’s declaration. “What? What do you mean you’re going to New York?”

Hermione grabbed a few more essentials from around the apartment, rushing in order to catch the next flight. “Yeah, I have to tell Ronald that I love him. Now Luna, you take care, you don’t have those babies until I get back.”

“I--but what about all of the finding his flaws and burning his picture rituals we’ve been doing?” Luna asked, straining to stand up and chase after her friend.

Hermione easily moved past the slow-moving girl, zipping up her bag and heading to the door. “Yeah, that didn’t work. I know he loves Lavender but I have to tell him how I feel! He deserves to have all of the information and then he can make an informed decision.”

Phoebe shook her head and continued to hobble around the room. “No, Hermione, it’s too late, you missed your chance! I’m sorry, I know this must be really hard, it’s over.”

The other girl paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Y’know what? No. It’s not over until someone says ‘I do.’” And with that she took off out of the apartment and to the streets of Diagon Alley, on her way to another country to declare her love for Ron Weasley.

#fredweasley #fredweasleyxreader #fredweasleyimagine #georgeweasley #hermionegranger #harrypotter #friends #ginnyweasley #lunalovegood #ronweasley #fred #fredweasleyfluff #fredweasleyseries

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thenightgazer · 3 years

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Spark of Stardust

Chapter 2 : Under The Fair Moonlight After months of friendship, tonight is the first time for Vergil to visit Lyra's house for a tea... and some unexpected confessions.

Warning : parental abuse, drug abuse, PTSD, psychological/emotional abuse, munchausen syndrome by proxy

Part 6 of Tales of Apotelesma

You can also read this fic on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~

He doesn’t remember how he ended up lying on the ground.

He stares at the sky, only to find the full moon staring back at him.

Where am I?

What am I doing here?

An agonizing wail distracts him from his own thoughts. If only he could move his body, it would be easier to find out what’s going on here. He starts to lose his sight as he feels something come out from his head, dripping to his ear, then to his back. He tries to glance at his surroundings in vain and realizes that his eyes are going to betray him again.

Then he feels it— pain.

A tremendous pain all over his body.

The woman is screaming again. This time it is louder and sounds a lot more terrifying.

As he struggles to move his body, with desperation creeping in his spine, he finally sees a glimpse of the woman’s figure. Standing on the rooftop of the house, she is trembling and sobbing. He can’t hear what she’s murmuring, yet something forces him to keep his eyes on her. It’s against his will, and he can’t do anything against it.

To be fair, everything doesn’t make any sense to him since the beginning. He just wants to end this absurd dream.

But now he’s sure of something; that he recognizes her face. He can see it clearly now. It all makes sense why she looks familiar since the first time he had this dream. The same cold, void eyes...

… that belong to the late Asteria Crescent.

---

The first thing that Vergil feels before he opens his eyes is someone else’s hand over his face. He stares blankly at the dark, which he soon recognizes as Dante’s hand blurring his vision.

He pushes Dante’s hand slowly without waking him up, recalling the memory before the twins ended up passed out on the Devil May Cry entrance floor.

The party went smoothly. Kyrie loved the music box that Vergil gave her and wore the bracelet after he told her its function. The meal was delicious. The kids were well-behaved—more than usual—they even went to bed early with Kyrie. After that, they played poker and Dante suggested having a drinking game. Vergil was never a heavy drinker, but of course he was forced to join the game. In the end, they drank too much and could barely remember who won the gamble.

Vergil doesn’t remember the details, but the last thing he knew was that the cards and the smell of alcohol were all over the place. The entire crew passed out. Succumbing to alcohol and an over-flowing fatherly instinct, Vergil moved Nero to the couch and put a pillow under the young devil hunter’s head. He said goodbye to Trish, who was half-asleep on the dining table. Then he dragged Dante with him, made a sloppy movement to create a portal to Devil May Cry before he eventually collapsed.

I shouldn’t have drunk that forsaken whiskey, Vergil curses himself.

The blue hybrid stretches his body and tries to get up feebly, kicking Dante’s waist. “Wake up, Dante. Don’t sleep on the floor.”

The younger twin replies with a soft snore.

Realizing that it’s going to be futile to wake Dante up, Vergil walks to the kitchen and grabs cold water from the refrigerator. His throat is dry and sore after swallowing too much whiskey. He empties half of the bottle while thinking about his weird dream again.

“... Huston...” Dante murmurs in his sleep.

Vergil furrows his brow. “Who?”

“Play me... Elena Huston...”

Vergil puts the bottle on the table and back to Dante, grabbing his little brother’s ankle and drags him to Dante’s room clumsily. The alcohol still exists in his blood, making him slightly difficult to coordinate his movement. After struggling a little while to put the red devil on the bed and taking off his shoes, Vergil covers Dante’s body with a blanket. Foolish, meddlesome, slovenly little brother, Vergil grumbles, unaware of his opposite brotherly act of love he has done to Dante.

“Hey Verge...” Dante mumbles.

“What?”

“Thanks... you ... sleep... too...”

“Shut up, Dante. Just sleep.”

Vergil chuckles silently after watching Dante go back to unconsciousness. He laments the time gap between them. He didn’t have a chance to grow up together with his brother, but although he was indifferent to humanity, he secretly hoped that Dante was safe, wherever his brother would be. Even when he had defeated Dante for numerous times, he had never meant to kill him even for once.

Vergil cares for his brother more than he would ever admit.

He heads out from the room and takes a seat on the couch. When he’s about to take off his coat, he feels his phone is vibrating. He takes the phone to decline the call and shut the phone down, but Lyra’s name pops on the screen.

Coincidence?

He picks the call.

“Vergil?”

“...”

“Vergil? Are you there?”

“I’m fine,” he replies, almost like a whisper. “Just a little... tipsy.”

Vergil hears her snorting. “I thought you hated alcohol? You said it makes you lose your control or whatsoever.”

“Let’s just say the crews made me do it.”

“Even Vergil Sparda couldn’t escape peer pressure, aye?”

A subtle smile appears on Vergil’s mouth. “This is midnight, Stardust. You should’ve slept.”

“I did. Then I woke up and couldn't sleep again. I remember you said cambions don’t need to sleep, so I reckon you are still awake. How was the party?”

“What can I say?” Vergil massages his brow, relieving the pain on it. “Kyrie loved my present. Nero was more talkative to me than usual. Dante was less annoying. For the first time since I came back from Underworld, Mary didn’t glare at me like she wanted to kill me. Trish was civil. Nicoletta still wants to touch Yamato. Morrison still insists to give me his cigarette. The three little rascals asked me to read them Animal Farm and they left early for bed.”

A mocking snort comes out from the librarian. “Normally you would say ‘ It’s fine’ or something like that, but now you bother to describe the entire events to me—not that I complained though—it just convinces me that Vergil Sparda is sloshed for real.”

“... I’m just... happy, I guess. That everything went well.”

“Glad to know it,” there’s a short pause before she continues to speak. “Hey... do you know that there's this flower called butterfly pea?”

“Consider this is the first time I heard that.”

“It’s originally from southeast Asia. It has a pretty blue colour and if we brew it, we can have a blue tea. Bought a jar of it from Chinatown. In fact, I’m thinking of brewing it now, and... I think it would be great if I drink it with a friend,” Lyra chuckles nervously. “Would you mind coming for a cuppa? I know it’s midnight and you’re inebriated right now but—”

“I accept the invitation.”

There’s a gasp. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I thought you would decline it, but never mind! See you very soon!”

Vergil looks at the phone screen blankly after Lyra hangs up the call. Sounds odd. This is the first time she invites me to her house. What if this invitation has something to do with my dream?

He remembers Lyra’s statement that she doesn’t believe in coincidence. It’s all but synchronicity, she had said.

Coincidence or not, he decides to leave anyway.

---

Lyra’s neighborhood is always quiet. Surrounded by meadows and woods, her house is secluded and quite far from the central city. No one would have thought that there’s a small cottage here and someone lives there. Lyra had said to him once that she wants to live in solitude and avoid having some neighbors, or else she would go crazy by neighbors’ endless thoughts.

The door opens immediately after Vergil knocks. Lyra’s tender face shows up, smiling at his presence. She wears an oversized blue sweater and long pajama pants. But that’s not his main concern at the moment—it’s her stature. The moonlight helps Vergil to look at her scrupulously and realizes that he has never noticed how pale Lyra’s fair skin is, like she hasn’t seen the sun for a long time. Along with her dark eyes and shady smile, anyone could mistake her as a vampire.

“Welcome to my small and humble cottage,” the librarian chuckles after examining the devil hunter in front of her. “You look fine for a drunken man.”

Vergil shrugs. “Cut it out, will you?”

“Just messing with you. Climb aboard.”

As he follows behind her to enter the house, Vergil’s cautious eyes wander off to the house’ interior. The house is small with a cozy living room attached to the kitchen. The two doors beside the living room are assumed by Vergil to be a bedroom and a bathroom. He walks to the windows framed with burgundy drapes; the lace inner curtains remain drawn, allowing moonlight to enter the house. There he can see Lyra’s small garden, blooming delicately under the night sky.

“I always fancy stargazer lilies and munstead wood rose.” Lyra says from the kitchen.

“They look exquisite,” Vergil murmurs. “I can smell the fragrance even from here.”

Vergil still stands in his place, watching the midnight breeze swing the flowers. Some of its petals have fallen to the ground. The next thing he sees is the butterflies flying around munstead wood roses. It’s rare to find butterflies in this metropolis. Knowing that there’s still beauty worth living, Vergil is grateful that he isn’t dead yet. He spent most of his lifetime isolating himself from the world, loathing the beauty inside it because he thought it was worthless.

He glances to the kitchen where Lyra puts the kettle on the stove and takes a jar— he presumes that it’s dried butterfly pea— but seems like she’s having a tough time opening it. Trying his best to keep his dignity by not mocking her adorable struggle, he approaches her and takes the jar.

“The strange and powerful human being with the ability to move every object only with her mind, couldn’t even open a goddamn jar.” Vergil remarks in sardonic tone. “Is this what you call friendship? Acting as your jar opener and transportation device?”

Lyra taps her chin. “Tut-tut, Vergil Sparda. You forgot ‘personal bodyguard’ and ‘heat provider’.”

“I’ve never thought that you’re such an opportunistic capitalist who used your friend for your convenience.”

“Says a megalomaniac who raised a demon tree to fight his brother only to be kicked in the arse by his son.”

“... that's... it won’t happen again,” Vergil looks away as he gives her the jar. “Nero hasn’t succeeded in defeating me since I came back from the Underworld."

“Sure~ I believe you.” The teasing tone in Lyra’s word says otherwise, much to Vergil’s dismay. He decides to help her prepare the cups rather than to continue their banter as she puts the dried butterfly pea flower into the teapot. Lyra had told him to let her do all the work, but she finally gives up after Vergil glares at her while cleaning the cups with a napkin.

“You finally made your dream come true.” Vergil says, putting cups on the saucers.

“What dream?”

Vergil points at a 36-strings lever harp beside the table in front of the sofa.

“Oh!” Lyra exclaims, turning the stove off and brings the kettle on the countertop. “Couldn’t afford to buy pedal harp, so I’m quite satisfied to have this one. Sugar or lemon? Plain blue tea tastes super earthy, only if that’s your preference.”

“Just lemon. Thank you.”

“Okay. Have a seat on the sofa. I’ll bring the tea right there,” she says.

Vergil takes his time to observe the living room, which he finds odd since he entered this house. This house is too... plain. Except for the harp, a chess board, some Rubik cubes on the table and an old radio on the kitchen counter, there’s almost no personal touch in this house. No family pictures, trophies, or even a bookshelf.

Considering she’s a bookworm, that’s terribly odd. But as she said, this cottage is small. He tries to ignore his hunch and turns his focus to admire the lever harp, plucking the strings cautiously and listening to its mesmerizing sound.

“You like it?” Lyra asks while putting the tray on the table and pouring the tea to their cups.

“It's magnificent,” Vergil takes his seat. “Let’s see if you’re capable of playing this astonishing instrument.”

“Challenge accepted!” the librarian drags the harp to her side. “Happy or sad?”

The blue devil stays silent for a while, staring at the cold fireplace before he glances at the window, remembering the moment when Lyra greeted him under the fair moonlight, causing his old soul to demand something soothing and nostalgic. “Play me Clair de Lune.”

Lyra nods cheerfully. “Easy peasy.”

It’s such a picturesque scenery, to witness Lyra hold the harp like she was born to play it. It’s the same bewitching phenomenon as their little adventure a few days ago when they stargazed together to see the Lyrids. He’s bemused once he hears the strings from the lever harp plucked and formed a beautiful composition. The brighter and folksy sound from lever harp is different from the classic pedal harp, yet it doesn’t change the beauty and romantic tone from the song.

Vergil finds himself frozen under the spell— it’s not just the song, he muses. It’s her.

Your soul is a chosen landscape

Where charming masquerades and dancers are promenading

Playing the lute and dancing, and almost

Sad beneath their fantastic disguise s

While singing in a minor key

Of victorious love, and the pleasant life

They seem not to believe in their own happiness

And their song blends with the moonlight

With the sad and beautiful moonlight

Which sets the birds in the trees dreaming?

And makes the fountains sob with ecstasy

The slender water streams among the marble statues.

By the time when Lyra finally reaches the song’s outro, Vergil senses his body is less tense and his head gets back its clarity after succumbing to alcohol for hours. Her fingers are getting slower as she plucks the pin and a string for the last time, a satisfied smile appears on her face, “I like this song.”

“So do I.” Vergil agrees.

She giggles. “Next time, it’s your turn to play me a song. Dante told me that you’re a gifted violinist. He sent me a video of you playing Caprice 24 yesterday.”

Vergil covers his face with his palm. “Kindly remind me to kill him soon.”

“You play eloquently. You should be proud!” Lyra giggles and pours honey inside her cup.

“Silence,” Vergil put a slice of lemon on his tea, the tail of his eyes spy on Lyra. “Instead of flattering me, why don't we just straight to the business?”

“Sorry?”

“It’s obvious that you didn’t invite me just for a cup of tea and impromptu recital.”

The puzzled expression on Lyra’s face answers it all. She doesn’t say anything for a quiet long time, still stirring her tea as if she’s still preparing what to say to him. Vergil suspects she would avoid his question, but she just sighs and finally sips her own tea, “You’re right. But first, drink your tea.”

Her eyes fixate on his, as if she commands him to mimic her gesture. He has no choice but to obey, lifting his cup to his mouth and carefully taste the blue tea. He enjoys the mixture between the natural flavor from the tea and the acid from the lemon, slurping more of them to please his throat. He would enjoy the tea more if Lyra didn’t give him that hollow gaze, causing him to wonder if she put poison inside the tea and wait for him to collapse, but if there’s any poison inside the tea, he would find it out even before he drinks it.

“What do you think?” She blows the steam from the tea.

“It’s good. Not too bitter, nor too bland.”

“Drink a little more, then.”

Again, Vergil obeys her.

Lyra puts her cup on the table. “It’s easy, doesn’t it?”

“What is it?”

“When I told you to drink, it was easier for you to drink it.”

“I don’t see why it should be difficult to drink it. It tastes good and it’s an act of courtesy.”

“An act of courtesy,” she smiles bitterly. “Oh yeah, it was easier for me too.”

Vergil puts his cup on the table with the intention to end Lyra’s vague trickery. The words he says next are full of certainty. “You had a dream of me.”

Her eyes are widened, but she already expects him to spill the question. She nods, her fingers trail on a Rubik's cube. “Twice. Weird, huh?”

“What did you dream about?”

“Last night? I was you, grieven by the death of your father. You wandered to your mother’s room and cried together inside a drawer with Dante. An hour ago, I was you again, chained up and this titanic, god-like demon tortured you and called you ‘disgraceful offspring of the traitor Sparda’. I think it was Mundus.”

“That’s bizarre. I believe I haven’t told you about Dante and I inside the drawer. And that was what Mundus exactly told me when he tortured me in the Underworld.”

“What about you? Did you dream of me?”

“I did,” he admits. “I’m afraid I failed to understand the context, since you haven’t told me any single things about you.”

“Fair enough. In that case...” she holds her breath while solving the cube. “What did you see?”

“I believe I was on your point of view when the dream occurred. You were gravely ill and your mother tended you. I still can recall how bad your headache was from that dream. Then Asteria— your mother— read you The Hobbit . In that dream, I didn’t know who she was, until you mentioned her name this afternoon. I decided to not bring it up to you until I found out why I dream about something I’ve never experienced and why it was about you.”

“The dream, then,” she continues. “Have you seen another one after that?”

He shakes his head. “None whatsoever.”

“Really?”

Sorry, Lyra. “Yes. Why?”

“... nothing. A lot of weird things have happened since our accidental mind link. The dreams must be our memories. Let's say the dream was our brain projection of what we’ve told each other about our past, then how could we feel the pain we’ve never experienced before? How could I know the face of the demon I’ve never met before? I got a hypothesis that whenever I dream of you, you must’ve dreamt about me. But this time you didn’t dream of me while I dreamt of you. Seems like it doesn’t work like that...”

The sound of clicking cube stops at once, making Vergil wonder whether she stopped the cube because of his answer or she has solved the cube since all the layers are already in the right places.

“I was sickly back then. Could barely leave my bed,” Lyra says, showing him the cube. “And this was the only thing I could do, aside from reading.”

Vergil receives the cube. “I saw plenty of this thing in my dream.”

She rests her back on the head of the couch. “What do you think of my mother?”

“She seems caring and nurturing.”

“Do you love your mother?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course.”

“I’m glad that you do.”

“You don’t love your mother?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, her eyes are dreary. She lifts her feet on the couch and moves her body to face the devil. “I don’t want to lie to you, Vergil.”

“Then don’t. We promised to not lie to each other.”

She chuckles coldly. “Where should I begin... oh right, I told you I was sickly. Mum said I got this rare genetic disorder called severe combined immunodeficiency. SCID made me extremely vulnerable of diseases. Therefore, I should live in a sterile and isolated environment. I could barely leave my own house, couldn’t even open the window just to smell my garden. Didn’t get a chance to meet new people other than my mother, my nurse— I forgot her name, I never liked her anyway— and my governess, Norma.”

Lyra closes her eyes for a while before she continues. “She was a great scientist. She was the smartest person I’ve ever known. She was the one who made me in love with astronomy. I could only see her infamous work on telly and newspapers. Some days, there were people who came to visit us and talked to mum. They were forbidden to meet me because of my condition. Some of them left me notes and little presents, wishing me good health. They told my mum to have faith and carry on. And whenever my mum had to attend international conferences, she cried so much a day before her flight because she had to leave me, even though Norma was there with me.”

“What about your father?”

“Never knew him. Mum was never married. She always looked blue whenever I asked her about my father, so I stopped asking.”

Lyra clenches her hand before taking the Rubik cube from Vergil’s hand and begins to play it again. “We only had each other, that means we need to protect each other. I never questioned anything because she took care of me and devoted on me. If it wasn’t my mother, who else wanted to take care of me? I liked Norma, but she was paid for nursing me. She could leave anytime soon, but not my mum. She was the only family I had, and I loved her.”

Lyra gazes at Vergil, whose face is straight still without any meaningful reactions. “I ate and slept as ordered. Took my medicines. Never once went outside the house. I did exactly what my mum instructed. But one day I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt dizzy almost every day. I threw up a lot. Sometimes I couldn’t even move my own body. I didn’t feel any better, just getting worse day by day. I felt like I could die any time.”

She shuffles the cube again after solving it. “One day, I stopped taking all of it.”

“The medicines.” Vergil emphasizes, remembering the nasty smell of medicine in his dream.

Lyra nods. “No matter how persistent Mum’s and the nurse' persuasion, I didn’t take it. I just wanted it to be over. Then something unexpected happened,” she lets out a small grin. “I was getting better. Much better. I could walk without taking a deep breath anymore. I went to the garden without having a nosebleed. I didn’t throw up. My headache was gone. I felt like I was... reborn.”

Lyra takes another deep breath; her hands stop shuffling the cube. “I never said it out loud, but Mum was sick. Very sick,” she taps her head with her index finger. “Mentally.”

Vergil tilts his head. That’s unexpected. “What makes you think so?”

The librarian puts the cube on the table, leaving it unsolved. “Any time I refused to take medicine or disobeyed her, she distanced herself from me. She didn’t reciprocate everything I did. She was just going straight inside her room and locked the door. It was almost like she resented me— no, punishing me for disobeying her. She loved playing this guilt-trip game so much. It seems like she liked it whenever she succeeded to make me think that I was a worthless daughter.”

“I know there are parents who treat their children poorly and abusively,” Vergil contemplates. “But I’m afraid I still couldn’t comprehend why your mother did that to you. You were only a child. A terribly ill child. She should’ve been happy instead of punishing you for your better condition. I understand that we could never judge a book by its cover, but… in my dream, she seemed like... she loved you wholeheartedly. Why would she want to hurt her own daughter?"

Lyra hugs her knees. “When someone keeps putting a person in ugly circumstances, I can only think that it’s either out of hatred or love.”

“Why would you put the person you love in such circumstances?”

“Love can be... poisonous,” Lyra stares blankly at the ceiling. “It’s always easier to hurt someone you hate. It makes more sense. But if you love someone, you’d do anything for them, even if it’s beyond logic, consciously or not. You’d call it kindness and love, but it’s actually poison. You hurt your beloved ones and say that you do that because you love them. You keep them close to you, shower them your love until they’re blind by your love and never find the help they really need...”

Noticing her body begins to shiver, Vergil takes off his coat and wraps it around Lyra’s body to keep her comfortable. He couldn’t help but empathized with her. She’s as confused as he is about human emotions, which is surprising. She always looks so confident, like there’s no obstacle that could damage her. But now while she slowly reveals her past, she looks extremely vulnerable. It makes Vergil want to help her somehow, even just to calm her down.

“Here,” Vergil says, hesitantly offers his hand. “Just until you feel better.”

Lyra’s anxiety gradually calms down as their hands are attached. Vergil’s gloved palm is hard as steel—one squeeze can crush her bone, yet she can only feel the warmth between their entangled hands.

She lets out a sad smile. How long has it been since the last time someone holds my hand?

“Do you feel better now?” Vergil finally breaks the ice.

“A little,” Lyra agrees. “Although I must admit, this is awkward.”

Vergil closes his eyes and chuckles as he rests his body on the head of the sofa. “I don’t know what madness leads me to do this. Perhaps it’s because of you. You are a terrible influence for me.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your best friend!”

“How unfortunate.”

With their hands still attached, Lyra lowers the coat from her head, revealing threads of her golden brunette hair, shifting her body to lean on the sofa. “Have you ever heard about Munchausen syndrome?”

“A mental disorder in which a person deliberately malingering?”

“Yup. And there is another one called Munchausen by proxy. Means the caregiver is the one who fakes the illness in a person under their care.”

“You mean...”

Lyra scoffs bitterly. “I know one should not self-diagnose without proper professional assessment. Mum was never clinically diagnosed, nor that people noticed her traits. They only knew her as a devoted mother and a great scientist. But I’m the one who lived under the same roof with her and I knew her better than anyone else. I could give you examples of how much my mother loved me”

“There was one time after my refusal to take my medicines, she humiliated me in front of her colleagues,” she continues with a calmer voice. “I was helping her to arrange a bouquet of roses to be placed at the living room. It was unusual that she allowed me to do the ‘hard work’. I did what she asked. I wanted to please her, just to see her smile again. I wanted her to look at me as her daughter, not a failure. I cut the roses diligently, and my fingers were bleeding because I was careless. I didn’t know that Mum brought her colleagues home, and they saw my bleeding fingers. She went nuts when she saw my fingers, scolded me for touching the roses. She said rubbish like, ‘I told you to not touch them!’ ‘Why are you so careless?’ ‘Oh, my poor, darling baby’ while her colleagues gave us the pity look as Mum brought me to my chamber, tended my wounds exaggeratedly, telling me that the pain will be gone soon and the wounds won’t leave any scratches. I was going to ask her why she lied to her colleagues but she kept shushing me like I’m a bloody idiot. I was confused, like, what did I do wrong?”

Lyra glances at Vergil, whose eyes are fixated to the fireplace in a silent rage. “You might’ve thought I was too naïve to indulge her unhealthy behaviour.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were too weak and innocent to defend yourself,” the door to Vergil’s memory palace where his darkest memories are stored is widely opened. “It sounds like self-justification, but we were just children. We couldn’t have known the cause of what was happening back then. You didn’t deserve everything your mother did to you.”

The contemplative words from Vergil slightly lightens the weight on Lyra’s shoulders. Her solemn smile emphasizes her hidden sadness and weariness. “At those days, I thought she was just knackered, or in a bad mood. Maybe she really worried about me. Maybe I was too stubborn and that made her gutted, so I endured. I took those bloody medicines because it was easier for me. She was so happy and for a moment, I thought I was happy too. Took it longer for me to realize that I was frightened, but I had no options but obeyed her.”

Vergil remains silent whilst feeling Lyra’s thumb tapping on the back of his hand. He waits patiently for her to gather herself before she mumbles quietly. “I’ve been wondering too... why would anyone want to go back to the person who hurt them?”

“Violence often acts in a cycle,” Vergil squeezes her hand lightly as a reassurance. “Once the perpetrator realized their mistake, they would beg for forgiveness. Some people mean it, some people don’t,” he sighs deeply, carefully putting his words together. “You thought by forgiving your mother, she could change for the better. That forgiveness would improve your relationship with her. You came back to her, sacrificing your safety and well-being to seek her love and comfort. She planted the fear inside you. It was a wheel you couldn’t escape. But you were never a fool for coming back to her. You loved her and you were a child who had no one to have your back but your mother. Even when your expectation failed you, you could only rely on her. ”

“I tried to break the wheel,” Lyra pulls away their hands and cups her face, sliding it to her head like she had a headache. “There were countless times when I thought about running away. But it never happened. I couldn’t even survive five minutes outside. If I told anyone about my suspicion of Mum’s actions on me, they would never believe me and call me a spoiled child instead. Norma was the only person who believed me. She was trying to help me, like quietly flushing the medicines whenever I couldn’t take it anymore. Then she was fired shortly after she spoke to Mum about her nonsensical punishment to me.”

Lyra bites her lips. “It seemed like Mum tried to cut every string with Norma. I never heard about her anymore. Never found her phone number or address. There was a time when I missed her but I couldn’t contact her. She was the only person who believed me and my mother took her away from me because Norma defended me from Mum’s fucked up behaviour.”

A sting of familiar dread creeps inside Vergil’s bone, despite his awareness that it wasn’t his own fear but residues from his first dream about Lyra. He remembers his futile effort to move the body and the way Asteria’s calm yet terrifying gaze at him when she feeds him. The unpleasant sound from the friction between the spoon and the bowl... Asteria’s shady voice as she told him her worries...

“I told you I never knew exactly when I acquired my power, right? Because as long as I remember, I always had this power from the very beginning. I knew what pawn Norma would pick whenever we played chess. I knew the next word my mother was going to say. There were times I accidentally moved things even without touching them. I thought I was just imagining things,” Lyra fixes Vergil’s coat. “Therefore, when Mum scolded me again, I felt my wrath burning and something inside me burst out. I was shocked because suddenly almost anything inside my bedroom was dropped—the books, the toys, the lamps. Mum was pale and silent like a ghost while staring at the mess, until the nurse came. She glared at me like I was a freak and the last thing I remember was I woke up and was unable to move my body. I suspected Mum had me drugged again to prevent me causing havoc. She still had the audacity to act normal, even read me The Hobbit like yesterday was nothing.”

Vergil’s icy eyes get wider slightly. “The event in my dream...”

“Now you know,” Lyra giggles but her face stays impassive. “Then a month later, there came the moment when we both fell.”

Vergil straightens up his body. The picture of his second dream of her comes up in his mind. The same soulless eyes that he saw back then when there was a murder in the library a few months ago appear once more on Lyra. Somehow, Vergil knows where this conversation is heading and he knows he won’t like it. “What do you mean by 'we’ ?”

The pure honesty in Lyra’s eyes makes Vergil’s blood curdle. “I told you, didn’t I? I don’t want to lie to you.”

---

It was the end of the fall season when six-years old Lyra woke up from her slumber. She glanced at the clock on the wall, grinning unconsciously. They say 3 o’clock in the morning is devil’s hour. Unable to go back to sleep, she grabbed her mauve cardigan and decided to take a little detour to the balcony. I could find some autumn constellation, she thought with excitement. She remembered her mother hadn’t packed the cool and sophisticated telescope she had always admired since the very first time Asteria brought it home, and she left it on the balcony this afternoon.

Little Lyra succeeded sneaking out from her bedroom. The mouthful and annoying nurse was nowhere to be seen. She was sure that Asteria is already sleeping. Lately, Asteria didn’t show her ‘lunatic’ nature to Lyra, which Lyra was grateful for. So when she found Asteria on the balcony, Lyra’s excitement instantly turned into fear. Her mother stood with her hands on the balustrade. The telescope was still there, but it seems like Asteria hadn’t used it again since the afternoon. Thinking that her mother wouldn’t notice her presence, Lyra tip-toed to going back to her chamber, but Asteria saw her and startled. It was almost like Asteria scared of being caught on the balcony.

“Solstice?” Asteria gasped. “Why do you— oh, never mind. You must be here to stargaze, aren’t you? Come here, sweets.” A warm smile appeared on her face as she sat on the chair and fixed the telescope.

Lyra’s fight or flight instinct soared up. It was already horrible to think her mother would scold her for sneaking from her bed, but the sullen face of Asteria was unsettling. It looked like she was able to burst any time soon.

“Come on,” Asteria insisted. “Look, there is Andromeda!”

Without making any sound, Lyra climbed on her mother’s lap timidly. Asteria told her to peek into the eyepiece, which Lyra reluctantly did.

“What do you think?” asked Asteria.

“Beautiful,” Lyra said. “But I don’t understand.”

“About what?”

“The pattern. Andromeda doesn’t look like she was chained. More like she fell from the sky and died on the ground.”

Asteria chuckled. “As per usual, sweets. You have a vivid imagination.”

“I just don’t like that story. It was Andromeda’s parents’ fault, but she was the one who got sacrificed.”

“The gods punished her parents too.”

“Yet the gods placed them among the stars. It’s not fair.” Lyra murmured.

“Well, it’s mythology,” Asteria caressed Lyra’s hair. “On the other side, I think Cassiopeia loved her daughter. Too much that she got the audacity to boast about Andromeda’s beauty. If she were really that self-centred, she’d boasted her own beauty instead.”

Lyra’s small hands adjusted the focusing knob slowly. “If she really loved her, she would think for her daughter’s safety.”

It took Asteria a quite long time to respond. She hugged her little daughter from behind, resting her head on Lyra's crown and massaging Lyra’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? It’s cold here.”

Mummy sounds tired, Lyra noticed. Yet asking questions right now wouldn’t be the best choice. Asteria gave her a good night kiss lightly before letting Lyra off from her lap.

“You’re right. Cassiopeia’s pride put her daughter in danger,” Asteria said, cuddling her daughter tightly. “I love you, Solstice. I’m sorry for everything.”

What was that? Lyra felt an itchy ache somewhere in her heart by just listening to her apology, but Asteria just smiled as if she had never said anything. She waved at her, telling her wish for Lyra to have a sweet dream.

Lyra walked away from her mother with heavy steps, despite her wish to stay a little bit longer. Asteria seemed to be in a good mood this time, and that tender side of her melted Lyra’s heart. She’s her mother, after all. She couldn’t help but love her unconditionally. I hope I don’t agitate her, she hoped as she turned her direction to enter the balcony again, planning to beg to stay for a while.

But when she turned around, the horror already waited for her there.

Lyra was screaming like a wild animal as she ran and ran...

“MUMMY!!!!!”

… towards Asteria, who jumped from the balustrade.

Don’t leave me here! Lyra’s body felt like it was burning in blaze. She could feel an overwhelming power within her burst out. Please God, let me use that power again!

Her breath got heavier as she jumped from the guardrail and reached her hand to her mother with a hope to save her. It felt like eternity when she realized that her mother was floating on the air instead of falling. With an eerie face, Asteria screamed her daughter’s name while she was brought by an invisible force to the rooftop again.

I did it! Lyra thought cheerfully, but not for long because she quickly realized her mysterious power didn’t bring her to the balcony too. She tried to focus on herself, doing whatever she can to release her power again. She knew her power was still raw and immature. She had planned to practice secretly tomorrow, but she had no idea that things would go south like this. The first was always luck or coincidence, Norma had said to Lyra when she found out Lyra’s little secret. But there will be no more luck for the second time. There is no such thing as coincidence, but synchronicity...

While Lyra was still thinking about why her power didn’t work, her body crushed on the ground violently.

She was sure she heard the sound of her fractured bones.

She had never experienced that kind of pain before. All those side effects from her medicines was nothing compared to this one. The pain gradually ended as the numbness consumed her body. She looked at the sky, thinking how poetic her fall was under the fair moonlight with her motionless body. She was sure she saw Asteria on the balcony, shrieking and saying something she could not comprehend. Why did she jump? Was that because of me? Maybe because I made Mummy angry again... maybe afterlife seems better than living with me...

Lyra was willing to go. Afterall, she was sick of being isolated. Death seems promising. At least she would be free from medicine and endless hope for getting a healthy body. I look like Andromeda , she thought as she felt her eyes getting heavier. Like someone lying dead on the ground.

She knew it’s time to go when her eyelids could barely manage to stay open. She hoped Asteria would live a better world without her. If only she could laugh right now, she would do it for the last time, so she wouldn’t feel too bitter about death.

Mum—

Unfortunately, she never got a chance to think further. The only thing she saw before she lost her consciousness was her mother climbing up the balustrade again, this time to follow her daughter to death.

---

“Stardust?”

The gentle voice of Vergil startles Lyra back to reality. She doesn’t know how long the time has passed since she told him how her mother died. The long, buried weariness and sadness inside her consumes her like she has just released a huge burden from her body at once.

“Sorry, I was preoccupied with my own head.” Lyra scratches her right ankle, a habit she couldn’t let go since that tragic day. “You alright?”

“I was supposed to be the one who asked,” the blue devil says. “Are you sure you’re going to continue? We could discuss this later.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Just adjusting myself because I’ve never opened up to anyone else before,” Lyra continues, ignoring Vergil’s pity look. “Anyway, after that, I woke up in the local hospital. They said my nurse heard my mother’s scream and went to check. That was how she found us and called the ambulance. When we reached the hospital, they said they couldn’t save us. They went insane because suddenly my heart started beating again in an hour. They put me under intensive care for three months. I got severely broken bones and head trauma—I needed to do a couple more surgeries and physiotherapy. They said it was a miracle for me to survive and recover rapidly.”

“That must have something to do with your power.” Vergil adds.

“That’s very likely. I woke up hearing voices and seeing things I wasn’t supposed to be. I thought I was just dreaming, but day by day I spent my time hospitalized, I knew it was real. Those voices and images were people’s thoughts,” Lyra chuckles with irony on her lips. “It was already too much for me to read minds at once, and then I found out that my mother died. I saved her life just for giving her a chance to jump again.”

She sounds ireful rather than sad, Vergil suspects. He can’t deny his instinct to not let his attention to Lyra’s right ankle, which he stores his suspicion for a long time.

“One day, Mum’s lawyer came to visit me at the hospital. She said since I’m an orphan and have no relatives, she will act as my guardian and I’ll receive inheritance whenever I reach legal age. The whole ‘guardian’ part was just formality because she’ll send me to an orphanage once I get discharged from hospital. Even I knew what she had stored in mind before she started to speak. But that didn’t really concern me,” Lyra takes a deep breath and exhales. Her expression is slightly twisted as she telekinetically raises a Rubik's cube and tears every cube apart before she smashes them into flakes.

What in the seven hells— “Lyra?” Vergil calls her, but the word seems unreachable to her.

“I was going to forgive my mother because I wanted her to rest in peace, yet again she proved it to me that she was a fucking devil.”

Another cube is crushed, followed by a loud cracking sound from the teacup.

“The lawyer couldn’t bear to tell me this, but she found fake prescriptions of my daily medicines and a drawer full of placebo pills in my mother’s room. The doctors told her that they found traces of placebo pills and a very tiny dose of rat poison inside me. A. Fucking. Rat. Poison—”

The radio on the kitchen counter starts playing by itself, followed by a loud bang from Lyra’s front door.

“It was all placebo. There was never a fucking SCID nor fucking illness. I was perfectly fine from the start! The only reason why I always felt sick was because of that rat poison and abominable suggestions from that fucking b—”

Vergil grips her shoulder. “Lyra, you will destroy the entire house. Please stay calm.”

The view of her floating table pulls Lyra back to the earth. She startles at first, but it doesn’t last as she finally gathers herself and puts the table back to the ground. The bleak on her face remains while she tightens up Vergil’s coat. “Sorry.”

“I told you to stop earlier.”

“I can never be ready to tell you the truth unless I do it right now.”

“Fine, but if I notice even a small sign of you going berserk again, we have to stop this conversation.”

“Deal.”

“Good. Then, did the nurse have any knowledge about the poisoning?”

Lyra shakes her head in disappointment. “She claimed that Mum just gave her my medical certificate and records, which the lawyer found to be fake. Mum made up those records as if they were authorized by a credible health facility. She made up things and fucked up my life for Hell knows what she was up to. Then she just fucking died and leaving me alone without any explanation on everything.”

Vergil wipes his face in frustration, This is more messed up than I thought it would be.

Lyra lets out a rugged laugh. “You know what happened next. The media never told people how my mother died.”

“That’s what I always thought to be very suspicious. They can’t just spread false rumour. There’s evidence, witnesses and statements from the police and hospital.”

“All I could think was that Asteria Crescent was an infamous astrobiologist with great reputation. Imagine if the world knew this brilliant person was a mad woman who poisoned her own daughter. That would destroy the reputation of academical world. Her good legacy must be remembered.”

“... Was that really easy for humans to alter the truth?”

The librarian laughs bitterly. “They do it all the time, Vergil. It’s easier than you think it is. Money talks louder than words. They must’ve silenced Mum’s lawyer too since she said nothing about the truth to me. I tried to tell them that my mother was insane and that wasn’t how she died, but they thought I was the one who lost my mind. PTSD, head trauma, reconstructed memory, call it what you want. I don’t know who started it, why and how, but they closed the case.”

“But who were these people? Why did such a grandiose plan just to cover up a scientist’s death?”

“Who knows. There’s always someone behind the stage.”

“And they really sent you to an orphanage?”

“Yes, maybe to shut my mouth. Mum’s lawyer managed my financial support, but she never showed up at the orphanage.”

Lyra bites her lips, like she doesn’t know how to continue and stumbles over her own words. She scratches her right ankle again. “Kids in the orphanage used to tease me for limping whenever I walked. It’s odd for me, even until now. The doctor said I had fully recovered, just needed to adjust myself to the outside world since I stayed indoors for too long. But the sore thing in my ankle here never really disappears. I never found out why. All doctors I’ve consulted with said despite the fading scar on the skin, my ankle is perfectly fine and should’ve been functional. People couldn’t even see me limping, at least until a certain sulky devil spotted it.”

“I’m not sulky.”

“The more you deny it, the more it’s true.”

“Your logical fallacy amuses me.”

A relieved laugh comes out from Lyra. “You got me there.”

With the smile on her face blooming again, Vergil feels a towering wave of unpleasant ache filling his whole heart. Right now, he can grasp the reason why Lyra acts too secretive. He knows that burden very well; to be unable to trust anyone but themselves. Lyra has never received the real love from her mother, which was different from Vergil. Her childhood and self-esteem were stolen from her own kin. That is also the reason why Lyra can easily understand him, despite his despicable sins. Lyra has already had the power and was able to save her mother, yet in the end Asteria chose to kill herself. Contrary to Vergil, who even had demon power since birth, but he couldn’t save his mother from her doom. His love for his family was Vergil’s motivation to gain more power, which is a total opposite from Lyra who hates her mother and resents her power. They are two sides of the same coin.

“Terra to Vergil?” Lyra snaps her fingers in front of Vergil’s face.

“Pardon me,” Vergil says. “I was just contemplating.”

“About what?”

“About how humans can be so much worse than demons. No offense.”

“None had taken.”

The blue devil hesitates before he asks. “How... How did you cope from that?”

“Hmmm...” Lyra mumbles and sighs heavily. “It’s not easy. It still affects me in a way. I grew up thinking that people can’t be trusted. Telepathy made it worse. I hesitate to live, but I don’t want to die either. It’s difficult to form any connection, no matter how much effort I took to fit in. I’m not even sure myself whether this is the real me or I’m just a skilled imitator who fits people’s expectations.”

She smiles, this time the gloom on her lips is fading. “I met people who were sincerely decent and empathetic. But somehow, I just couldn’t bring myself to open up and let them enter my circle. I used to blame my mum for this trust issue, but lately I suspect it was on me.”

“You’re not the one to blame, Lyra.”

Lyra shakes her head. “I choose to leave them before they get too close to me.”

“Because you don’t want people to see your scar?”

“I thought the reason I’m pulling myself from society was because I’m afraid that I’d get hurt. Took me a long time to realize that I’m worried that I’d hurt people. That’s what you got when you have a telepath as your friend. You’d get caught in endless insecurity of having your minds in constant danger, while I really don’t want to read one. If only Sparda’s magic didn’t protect you and Dante, you’d leave me since day one.”

“I won’t.”

“Mundus screwed up your brain, Vergil. You have a thousand reasons for hating telepaths.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I saw your dreams. I know how much you want to kill those who fucks with you.”

“And I saw yours too, Lyra. I know how much you hate your mother, but deep down you still love her. Even since you saw her falling from the balcony.”

The realization hits her hard. “Wait— you knew this all along?!”

“Forgive me, but you won’t tell me the truth unless I told you a white lie. Your hypothesis is true; that our dreams occurred simultaneously.”

“You—” Lyra glares at Vergil like he has done treacherous betrayal, but she gathers herself up since she knows she was the one who lied to him first. She can’t deny that everything he said was true. It has been said that the dead won’t stay only if the living sets them free. For Lyra, it jabs her heart whenever she tries to brush that fact away. She knows that her hatred would rot her soul, yet it’s difficult to forgive her mother, who had tried to end her life multiple times.

“I envy you, Vergil,” Lyra confesses. “You were an arsehole evil lord back then, but you had a reasonable motive for fighting. You have a family. I got none. I don’t see the point of keep going on. Everyone wants me dead.”

“People are afraid of what they don’t understand,” Vergil states without any doubts in his voice. “It’s understandable since you’re undeniably enigmatic and can be threatening. But my fool brother of mine was right; strength is a choice. You choose to be strong to prevent more loss. You have every right to live, for death is the end. Make a full life while it lasts.”

“I wonder if I had such a reason to stay.”

Vergil straightens up his seat with a wary and cautious expression. “Sometimes… It doesn’t have to be something big. “

“Such as?”

“I don’t know…” he chuckles half-heartedly. “Don’t you have something to cherish for? Something that makes you willing to trade your life with?”

“Hmmm…. I love my job. I love books and the stars. But I don’t think I’d give up my life for that...” Lyra hums indifferently. “I think not. Nothing very important in particular.”

“There are things that could be important, but not everything important is worth cherishing.”

“What makes it different?”

“As time goes on, important things could become less important. The urgency wears off,” Vergil says quietly as he curves a faint smile, reminiscing his bonding time with Nero. “But something precious, something you hold dear most... you will suffer when they are taken from you.”

“Something precious, huh...?” Lyra’s eyes wander off, her voice is softer than a whisper. “Like... you...?”

Vergil almost gets choked by his own breath. “Beg your pardon?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing!”

“I’m certain that you said something.”

“If you’re so certain about that, why can’t you listen and repeat back what I said?”

“Because I couldn’t hear that properly!”

“Your loss.”

“You meddlesome creature.”

“You angry kitten.” Lyra holds her mouth to prevent her laughter from going too loud.

Vergil glares at her. “What did you just call me?!”

“Nothing~ I’m sleepy~” Lyra stretches her arms, the corner of her eyes flashes a mischief as she glances to the oblivious Vergil. “Those self-help books were right. It’s relieving to have the right person to share the burden with—”

“Don’t you dare try to change the topic. If you ever call me an angry kitten again—”

“We’re still talking about that? Bloody hell, Vergil, I’m just kidding!” Lyra holds his palms and takes off his gloves. “Come on, we need to rest. You might be sober now but even the strongest demon needs to sleep.”

A light crumple curves on Vergil’s forehead. “Why do you take my gloves off?”

“Do you have a habit to keep your gloves on while sleeping?”

“Hold on,” Vergil hesitates as he pulls his hand. “You want me to sleep here? In your house?”

“Yup.”

“You know that it’s not… very decent for an unmarried woman and a man to stay under the same roof.”

“Since when do you care about custom?”

“I’m not necessarily care about customs,” Vergil grunts. “It’s your convenience that I’m concerned about.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Lyra cleans up the table and waves her hand to send the tray to the dishwasher before making her way to the bedroom. “But my sofa is too small for you, and considering I have a quite spacious bed that fits two people, I don’t see any reasons why I would let my friend freeze on the sofa.”

Lyra opens the door, glancing at Vergil and tilts her head as a sign for him to follow her into the bedroom.

~~~

A/N : the poem mentioned in this chapter is “Clair de Lune” by Paul Verlaine, which is the inspiration for Claude Debussy’s Clair de Lune

Tagging : @drusoona @harlot-of-oblivion @shiranyaaww @queenmuzz @rubixa-seraph @andieperrie18

If you love my works and want to support me, kindly donate me on my Ko-Fi! :3

Masterlist | AO3

#devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil x oc #vergil #vergil x lyra #spark of stardust #tales of apotelesma #original character #oc #lyra #night writes

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aislinswalsh · 3 years

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AHHHH IS THIS REAL LIFE? I’M SO EXCITED TO BE HERE WOW ! hello friends ! i’m so pumped to get to know all of your children, and i hope you like my painfully irish angel bby aislin. her app did get a bit long so i tried to type up a tldr version, but shutting me up is practically impossible so forgive me if that’s long too. i do have a few wanted connections listed below as well, but if nothing tickles your fancy i’m super open to seeing where the cat drags us or plotting out something else entirely ! @opalsmedia

bio that’s just my app . pinterest . playlist .

[ HALEY LU RICHARDSON, CISWOMAN, SHE/HER ] shh ! AISLIN WALSH, the TWENTY-ONE year old SECOND year FILM & PHILOSOPHY major from WATERFORD IRELAND, is known as a SAPPHIRE around here. SHE was invited to join because OF HER AWARD WINNING SHORT FILMS, and now, they’re here to stay. SHE reminds me of PICKING FLOWERS ON HER WAY TO CLASS, WRITING LOVE LETTERS IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, THE ART OF SETTING YOURSELF ON FIRE TO KEEP OTHERS WARM.

A Very Brief History:

Aislin grew up a very wild child, which her parents did not like at all. They chose to pay more attention to her brother who muted himself for their approval, and followed them blindly. She took solace in books, and making her own little movies or music videos with her friends. Think of those cringey MVs made by seventh graders. Very imaginative as a child as she spent a lot of time alone. She learned how to entertain herself no matter the occasion, and played a lot with the nannies, maids, gardeners, and cooks on their estate.

She comes from old money, as the Walsh’s own a long line of car manufacturers throughout the Republic of Ireland and the United Kingdom. Her family praises her older brother for being responsible for getting a deal to import their cars to the US and asia. He was also a member of the society, and her parents never expected Aislin to be invited to join. Especially her mother who doesn’t believe her interest in Film and Philosophy isn’t attractive for a “young elite”

“Talk less, smile more.” ( shoutout to hamilton ) a phrase she commonly heard as she always has a million thoughts running through her mind. Each one she deemed important. There was so much to the world she didn’t understand, and had yet to see. It’s what made her so passionate about exploring it through film. To insert her own philosophy and start discussions around whatever thought was plaguing her the most. But her mother wished she would just shut up and let important people feel important.

The lack of attention from her parents made her a strong people pleaser. Searching for the approval she didn’t get from home no matter how hard she tried. She’s always there to lend a helping hand no matter how late, will be the ear someone needs and offer her best advice. Believes that her loyalty and devotion will earn her the love she so often felt she didn’t receive from her parents. Aislin knows what it’s like to feel neglected and like she’s not being paid attention to and she never wants people to feel that way so she showers everyone in the love she wishes her parents will show to her.

Aislin has a mind for wonder, and an imagination that knows no bounds because she can’t do the things she watches the protagonists she writes do. It’s her only form of escape from her life and she wishes she could live freely as her protagonists do but watching them in films would have to be enough. A passion that shows through as she as three award winning short films she’s known around the film community for. Those films being: “For the Love of a Daughter”, “The Problem with a Promise”, and “The Ways in Which Footprints Lie”.

Personality:

She puts others before herself always no matter the situation. She isn’t a prideful person, so she’s typically the first to apologize whenever any sign of conflict arises even if she wasn’t the reason the conflict started.

It’s really hard for her to stand up for herself, and will usually just allow people to take advantage of her or walk all over her. She’s scared of disappointing people so she does her best to keep the peace at all times.

Aislin wishes to be selfish, and put herself first but can’t bring herself to do it. So she takes out her wishes through her works. Her protagonists are always free spirited, strong willed, and openly opinionated because she feels like she can’t be.

She romanticizes every aspect of her life, and tries to find joy in the little things. She’s quick on her feet, and performs well under pressure. Also tries her best to give everyone she meets the benefit of the doubt even if they come with their fair share of bad interactions. Even if they treat her poorly she tries to find the good in them.

Wanted Connections:

her muse. this person is someone she longs to be like. they inspire her most ambitious of characters because of how selfishly and carefree they’re able to live. she notices how they put their wants first without showing shame, and aislin tries to mimic their speech, and the way they interact with others but she always folds. she wants to be close to this person in hopes their habits will rub off on her. she’s afraid to ask how they got so assertive because she doesn’t want them to pity her or be annoyed but they’re remain a dream to her all the same.

the one that got away. it’s aislin’s fault these two didn’t work out. she couldn’t get out of her own head. they weren’t ever a couple but this muse was very sweet on her, and aislin wasn’t use to that. she was constantly thinking it was only a matter time before she disappointed them. she was hot then cold, clingy then distant and it made her feels seem like mixed signals. this muse could only take so much and eventually stopped pursuing her all together. something aislin knew was coming yet couldn’t bring herself to stop.

her comfort crowd. this could definitely be a few muses ! these people would be her group of don’t ask don’t tell. they’d have their own code, and hold each other secrets to their heart and take them to the grave. they all have access to each other’s places, know their favorite foods, and spend all night sharing secrets, reciting dreams, and being their most authentic selves. in the days that follow their stress relief they don’t speak of that night, pretending like it didn’t happen until they need another night like it again.

her midas touch. this person manages to always get her out of her comfort zone, and do things she normally wouldn’t for herself. they can see the way she struggles with doing for others and doing for herself and want them to choose herself. they sometimes get into arguments over it because no matter how many steps she takes forward she always ends right back treating others in the way she should treat herself.

her skeptic. this person thinks her treat people with kindness attitude is nothing but an act. they believe she’s working some kind of angle, whether it be within the society, her department, her inner circle, etc. they just don’t trust the way she acts. fully believing there’s more to her sweet persona than meets the eye.

#opalsintro #I tried my best to condense her bio so pls if you have any questions dont be afraid to ask !!#im once again SO EXCITED TO BE HERE

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julemmaes · 4 years

Note

your favourite prompt for Fairondale please?

“If you want to leave, we can leave.” / “I don’t want to ruin your party.” / “You could never ruin anything.”

Matthew Fairchild and Lucie Herondale modern au

I’m sorry this took so long but I had other things to do and it’s kinda short, but nice, I guess. I really hope you enjoy it.

Word count: 1,728

Lucie couldn't bear it anymore.

She took another sip from the red plastic cup she was holding in her hand, faking a grimace so that if her friends were watching her, they would think she was drinking alcohol and not what was actually sparkling water. She wasn't in the right mood to drink and she certainly didn't want to have overprotective guys asking her why she had that long face.

That's why she had been pretending to be having fun for the last two hours at a party organized by Matthew in honor of the reunion of the group.

By the time everyone had gone off to college it had become difficult for them to get together every weekend as they were used to in high school and, although both James and Matthew were still around, most of the time they had too much to do or were busy with work, so she often found herself alone with Cordelia. Not that she minded spending time with her best friend, but she missed the close-knit group they used to have.

Christopher had moved to the other side of the world with Grace right after graduation and they rarely saw him around five times a year during major holidays like Christmas and various birthdays, which is why neither of them was there that night. Thomas had returned to Spain right after high school for a while and had came back when the distance was starting to create big problems in his relationship with Alastair, who had stayed in London with his siblings. The two of them had stayed in England for a year before moving permanently to Paris with Kia.

Anna and Ariadne, on the other hand, were travelling the world. They had visited almost all of South America and Lucie knew that they would soon begin to travel in Asia, starting in India. They sent her a postcard from each city they visited, with a detailed description of the people there, so that she could introduce characters from different countries in each of her books.

James and Cordelia, fortunately for her, had never left London, but had moved out of the city in search of a quieter, more isolated place, and Matthew, who had just come out of a long period of rehabilitation, had decided to follow them. It was not difficult to visit them, but the trip from the city to the countryside was long and Lucie could not afford to do so every weekend.

She heard her brother and her best friend in the next room while they were playing beer pong with Thomas and someone she couldn't recognize. Cordelia had just made the winning shot and James was lifting her up in the air holding her by her hips, while Thomas and his partner dropped the last remaining glass of beer with an amused grimace on their lips.

From the way he was swinging and from the grip on the other's shoulder, Lucie realized that he was completely wasted. She smiled sincerely when she caught Thomas' eyes and he sent a little grin her way. With all he had done in the last few years, a little fun was what he deserved.

Alastair was talking to other people a few feet away from the ping pong table and occasionally glanced in the direction of his boyfriend.

Lucie sighed. She wondered who he had left Kia with that night. Probably her Aunt Sophie. She loved the boy as if he had been Thomas' son, which, in a way, was true. Both James and Thomas had helped the Carstairs so much after Sona's death and had all actively participated in raising the child, but after they had moved to France, Kia had begun to see Thomas as a full-time parent and very often poeple had mistaken the child for the adopted son of the two boys.

Taking one last look at her friends, Lucie sighed again and moved to another room, quieter and with fewer people. She looked around, watching the couples who preferred to talk rather than dance and get shit-faced.

She headed for the stairs, knowing exactly where to go. She would lock herself in Matthew's room for a moment and just sleep for a few minutes. She didn't want to ask Thomas and Alastair, with whom she'd come to the party, to go back home so soon.

She went up the last step and closed her eyes and stood still at the top of the stairs, thinking how tiring the day after would be. She had to finish reviewing the book and send it to her publisher. She had managed to make it to the deadline without losing all her hair and without biting her nails to the bone and this she considered a great achievement.

She leaned against the wall yawning and dragged herself to the last door on the left down the hall. She entered without knocking and breathed a sigh of relief when she found it empty and dark, except for the light coming from under the door of the adjacent bathroom. She could hear the water from the sink running, but there was no sound or noise to suggest that there was more than one person behind the door.

She sat on the edge of the bed and dropped back onto the mattress at the same time as the bathroom door opened. Lucie turned her head to the person in question and smiled tiredly when she met Matthew's surprised look.

The boy turned off the bathroom light, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. He raised an eyebrow, confused as he found her on his bed. "Lu, are you drunk?"

He broke away from the door, taking a few steps to reach her and sat down next to her, placing his hand on her knee. The contact made Lucie shudder. Although she was wearing heavy black jeans, she still felt the warmth of his skin.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head and waving the glass, "Nope." She answered popping the P, "This is just water. I'm not in the mood to celebrate tonight."

Matthew looked at her with a hint of worry in his eyes. Normally she would be with the others playing silly games that included all kinds of alcohol, and when he hadn't seen her with Cordelia before, he didn't worry much, thinking she was with someone else.

"When did you come in?" he asked, lying next to her.

Lucie yawned again, "Like less than a minute ago."

Matthew turned his head to her and in a hesitant tone asked, "What's wrong?"

She remained silent so long that Matthew doubted that she was still awake, but then a lonely tear fell on her temple and his heart tightened in his chest. "Lucie..."

"It's all right, Math. It's just stress." she answered immediately as she passed the back of her hand over her eyes. She pulled herself up, finishing up the water in the glass.

Matthew followed her and sat down and put his hand on the small of her back, "You wanna talk about it?"

Lucie shook her head, her eyes still shiny, but more alert than before.

"If you want to leave, we can leave." he whispered to her, massaging her back with his thumb.

She took a deep breath, passing her hand over her face. "I don't want to ruin your party."

Matthew chuckled, "You could never ruin anything."

The look she gave him made him choke on his laugh. His eyes darted to her lips for a second, and if Lucie had noticed, she didn't show it. They had been in this situation for years. Years spent wondering if every partner the other had was just a distraction or if it was because they were trying to move on.

"All right, take me for a ride," she said, standing up and cleaning her jeans from something that wasn't there. "But please don't put tsum tsum music because I might get sick and throw up in your precious car."

Matthew put his hand on his heart, "I solemnly swear that I will not put anything on the radio that is not to your liking in this special adventure we are about to embark on."

Lucie laughed and felt better already. It was easy to laugh with him, to feel lighter and freer and not crushed by all the deadlines and orders of her bosses.

Matthew looked at her with a dazzling smile and offered his hand, pulling her towards his bedroom window. She frowned, "What are you doing?"

"I'm not going to hear your brother insulting us in every language in the world because we're running away on the one night we're all together." he smiled over his shoulder.

Lucie, having understood what he was going to do, shook her head, "Uh uh, I'm not going to get down the gutter." She took her hand out of his grasp and squeezed her fist, hoping not to let that feeling go away. Matthew's eyes found Lucie's lips again and her mouth dried up. She swallowed and and the movement did not go unnoticed to the boy.

His eyes immediately found hers, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then you'll come down this stupid gutter."

Lucie snorted, "All right, but you go first."

Matthew started to climb out of the window and as she kept her gaze fixed on him, she grinned, backing away. "Where are you going?" the blond asked, falsely alarmed.

Lucie did not answer, leaving the room, and walked quietly down the stairs to the front door. She opened it wide with nonchalace, and came out into the stinging air of the English countryside, finding a sullen Matthew in front of her. She reached out to him, disheveled him and then tied their arms together.

Matthew leaned over her, kissing her cheek. Lucie blushed, clutching herself in her sweater, and then turned to him.

Matthew's green eyes glowed with the emotion of what was waiting for them that night and Lucie felt something pull her towards the boy, a tug inside of her chest.

They looked at each other and burst out laughing, heading towards his car.

Whatever would happen in the next few hours, when they returned home the next morning, it would not be the same Lucie and Matthew as before.

tsc tag list

@queenofthemoon22 @tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @can-god-strike-me-down @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes @thomascarstairsx @alastaircarstairsx @fair-y-child @matthew-herondale @thomaslightwoodx @abigneignenn @imherongraystairstrash @rednailpolishqueen @herondamnn @parababitch-herondale @silent-nerd

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fakeboitherottengirl · 4 years

Text

my 100 ideas

Most of these totally suck but i wrote 100 of them so let me know if any of them sound like something you would read or have any ideas for how to spice them up with blood and gore and how to get the most shock possible out of the idea.

-Two girls become drifter killers to fund the abortion of father-daughter incest

- Zombies like EDM and converge on a rave, replacing the drugged up crowd with nobody noticing

-human farming and a cannibal restaurant

-girls discover fairies and torture them

-two pageant stars become pro-ana superstars

-people earn points in an online game called “Calligula” by committing crimes and filming them

-A boy befriends a vampire trucker and reminds him of his last mortal love

-mall goths murder a “poser” in the woods

- De sade as a transcript of a hurtcore chatroom

-neighborhood kids who congregate at “dirt Hill” bully a child to death who comes back and haunts them in their teens

-A suicide club starts at a highschool

-Oliver twist remake where they are prostitutes instead of thieves

-A glitch in time leaves a rapist turned into a child and lands him at the mercy of his victim

-killer caterpillars

-Aliens that can only get you if you think of them

-A bulimic girl vomits up a baby

-Monsters live in the sand of a beach

-Experiments done on kids to turn them into weapons

-A pedophile on the run with his victim writes a fake memoir supposedly penned by the victim about murdering his family to escape

-Women storm the white house to torture/kill a rapist president

-An exchange studentl living in germany is called upon by the ghosts of a murdered jewish family to kill the family next door who are descendants of the nazis that killed them

-addicts at the end of the world trying to stay high

-anti-aging cream is made of dead 3rd world babies

-Bigfoot, our protagonist, tries to befriend a group of campers but accidentally kills them all off

-Prtending to be underaged, a girl traps a sadist pedophile in his own BDSM dungeon

-An american pedophile in asia becomes possessed by the ghost of a little girl killed in a brothyl

-a girl mutilates herself in her room in an attempt to look “beautiful” by cutting off all the features she finds ugly

-Satanists overtake a christian summer camp for SRA rituals

-A girl who is being molested’s dolls com to life in order to kill her stepfather, told from the POV of her favorite teddy bear

- A girl falls in love with a ghost who she can only see when she asphyxiates so she becomes hooked on duster

-A mute autistic girl befriends a demon who gets vengeance on her bullies

-Two DID alters fall in love and write love letters to each other in a diary even though they can never exist at the same time, plan revenge on church gardner who abused the host and caused the split in an attempt to be whole

-A child who killed another child is released from prison upon turning 18. When another child goes missing he must solve the mystery to clear his name with the help of his murder victim’s sister (who turns out to be the real killer)

-An adopted girl, upon turning 18, searches for her birth family only to discover a human puppy mill

-Two little boys abduct and murder another at a carnival and watch the panic unravel as the adults search for him

-A cult leader drives his followers to mass suicide

-A mother and daughter break a murderer out of jail and fight for his affections

-a school adopts lobotomies for problem students

-A human trafficker crosses paths with a telekinetic child

-An adopted girl finds out she is the blood heir to an enormous hurtcore ring

-A woman becomes aware that she is a character in a story and begins fighting the writer, who plans to write her into a tragedy

-a rich girl who has spent her life in a self sufficient high rise accidentally hits a lower-floor elevator button to discover that the zombie apocalypse has been happening for over a decade

-The son of a truck stop stripper living motel to motel comes across a magic pack of cigarettes that each grant a wish when smoked. In the end he gives his last one to his mom and she wishes he was never born and he disappears.

-An abusive troubled teen camp in the wilderness combats a masked slasher

-Activists free elephants at a circus but are captured by sadistic clowns

-Patient zero of a zombie virus goes around infecting hundreds of people through her work in a fast food chain because she cant take paid time off

-A vigilante caring for her murdered best friend’s infant has to take out a chain of criminals while still keeping up with the overwhelming task of motherhood

-A new club drug goes around the rave scene, highly addictive, eventually turns you into a zombie but so addictive people cant stop using it

-A girl wakes up and lives the same day out 100 times, with each day becoming more gruesome and out of control as she tries to stop the death of her best friend from happening

-A woman with no memories is arrested for involvement in a hurtcore ring

-Teens in a mental hospital after a rash of suicide attempts begin to die in strange accidents around the hospital

-A girl singer rising to fame realizes shes being prepared to be sacrificed by a death cult

-A boy who accidentally murdered his sister as a child becomes obsessed with a local girl who looks like she would have grown up to and stalks her, killing everybody close to her to “get his sister back” for his dying mother

-after trying acid for the first time a college girl is dragged back in time and witnesses the slaughter of the natives by settlers and is taken in by a native family fighting back

-A conscious zombie takes out a white supremecist stronghold

-Teens at a christian youth retreat battle a tentacle monster that feeds on virginity

-A haunted house bonds with the family that it is killing after falling in love with the lonely teenage daughter

-After abuse in the industry, a porn star seeks revenge against the producer who abused her, rendering her infertile

-A little girl who lives in a funeral home forms a bond with a senile old man who believes her to be his dead wife reincarnated

-A cursed school play production where the creepy theater teacher has a deal with the devil to sacrifice the lead girl, who grows a thirst for blood

-Upon puberty a girl starts to gruesomely turn into a mermaid despite her family’s assurances that these changes are beautiful and special

-a homeless prostitute forces her son to be her daughter in order to scam and kill pedophile men

-somebody nearby dies whenever a child sucks her thumb and she tries to break the habit

-after discovering her beloved guide dog is a demonic hell hound who needs human flesh to survive, a blind girl goes about finding deserving victims for him to eat

-A band of punk rockers find themselves set upon by nazis after one is killed at their show, the nazis have super-meth

-Everyday life in a small town is disrupted when the residents awake to find themselves living with grotesque cartoon physics

-A date-rapist catches an STD that turns his penis sentient and against him

-A boy who has never seen the sunlight is identified as a kidnapped infant and returned to his family, who have no idea how to handle his PTSD

-A tween popstar’s lyrics contain satanic messages that make his fans killers they kill their families and go on robbing sprees to afford his concerts

-A prim and proper young woman crosses a zombie-infested city to reunite with her (female) childhood best friend who she is in love with

-A chubby loner girl suddenly becomes an asset to her girl scout camp when it is set upon by monsters that only she knows how to fight from reading about them in horror books

-A kidnapped boy realizes he is outgrowing his captor’s attraction and sets out to eliminate the competition of new boys brought into the house

-A redneck boy and his incestuously abusive brother are the lone survivors of a monster attack on their family farm and the boy has to decide if he wants to help his abuser survive or take his chances on his own

-A school for poor children where children are farmed for their organs for the rich

-a young junkie discovers one day that he has the power to regenerate lost body parts

-An interracial group of rich friends finds themselves lost in a bad neighborhood overnightdurring a full moon where the occupants of the neighborhood come alive as werewolves

-A small Amish-type religious community is completely cut off from the world during a monster attack and carry on business with no idea that the outside world has collapsed other than that they’ve stopped receiving letters and newspapers. A team is sent out to scout the damage

-A girl who has her driver's license for the first weekend is held hostage as a getaway driver for two sadistic maniacs on their crime spree

-At a sleepover, two elementary school girls decide to kill another

-An ex-amish girl assimilates herself into society right when a monster attack begins to crumble it and must get back to her family to warn them that the world is ending

-Desade’s 120 days rewritten in the modern day hamptons

-a new diet pill causes moths to take up residence in somebody’s digestive system

-a group of white people go to film the “horrors” of a supposedly cannibal tribe, but when their racist notions are false, they force the people to conform to what they expected to find so they have something for their film

-a “murder circus” where participants pay to torture victims runs into a clash with protestors

-fights to the death like dogfighting but with human children

-a young man gives himself up to a sadist to pay off his sister’s drug debt

-A young woman working in the crime scene clean up business tries to shelter her own daughter from the horrors of the world by locking her in their apartment and becoming more and mor agoraphobic

-A home invasion turns the tables when the serial would-be-rapists/robbers break into the home of female vampires

-In the aftermath of the end of the world, a small tribe of hardened cannibalistic survivors now have to face forced assimilation back into society

-Trapped in a building with an active shooter, a group of elementary school kids fight back with school supplies

-An international tour group of study abroad students become stranded in the alps with a snow monster

-a team of serial killers/lovers is put to the test when one of them gets a woman pregnant and decides he wants to quit killing and become a normal person

-A teenage punk with a specialty for giving piercings turns into a back-ally abortionist in a wealthy suburb

-Twins who share a body and each have a head get into a feud over a lover and attempt to separate

-A group of racists find themselves cursed by a flesh-eating virus that starts with a change in skin pigment

-Racists hunting illegal immigrants come up on the wrong side of a desert spirit after destroying water left out by humanitarian groups

-A police force in a poor city is hit with a curse that transform them into flesh hungry pig-monsters and the local youth must take them out to protect their neighborhood

-A massive flood turns into a struggle for survival for a dorm building full of art students

-A woman is convinced that her son, conceived through a rape, is a demon

-A mental hospital during a zombie outbreak

#writeblr

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missmarrypotter · 4 years

Text

Please .. move that out of my sight 🍺

Don't ask me how i got that idea i don't even know ..sorry if i disturb some of you 😅

This takes places before Hannah, Jess and Alex came to the school.

Warning: Bryce and Monty are mentioned, cursing, peein?

Field Trips. Fun time.The whole Class together. In this case Liberty high’s students. More specific, the students who failed to play sick. Getting to know each other. Bounding. Discovering the team spirit while learning existential life lessons by spending time at a greek museum. That's what it is. Or at least that's what teachers wish it would be. Actually it's more Like some sweaty Old Lady explaining history to bored, tired and grumpy Teenagers. Not the Best Day to be a teacher.

Especially with a train breakdown on the way back Home. On a Bridge. Right above some wild river. In a rather antique train. What a lucky Day. Sounds Like a Bad movie huh?!

A whole Day full of cursing, screaming, disrespectful teens and now this. Poor Mrs. Carter. She was New at Liberty. And actually she looked Like a Student herself.

Coach Rick sure knew why he got the flu today. Smart guy.

At this point everyone seemed to be relatively relaxed. Some were talking, others played or watched stuff on their phones. Praise modern technology.

Penelopee and Monty shared a seat next to a sweet Old Lady. She smelled Like some weird Baby cream but she was really nice.

“Are You two a couple?! “ The baby cream Lady asked After they showed her some pictures of their Trip to asia. She told them she’ve never been out of the USA so both of Them decided to Show her some nice places in Thailand,Vietnam and Hawaii.

“Uhm no Miss, we are just friends. More Like brother and sister actually”, Montgomery cleared the Situation, scratching the back of his head.

Phee nodded.

“We are very close” she added, showing the woman a picture of her, Jeff and Monty.”We three are Best friends since a long time”, she smiled. “Our other Friend - Jeff managed to stay at Home today. Lucky Bast… Bear.”

“Oh what a lovely Group”, she giggled. “You are such lovely young people. It's nice to meet that well behaved Teenagers These days. That's really rare.” she admitted.

“Aw, that's really friendly M’am, Thank You” Phee chuckled, squeezing Monty's Hand. Somehow people always assumed Jeff or Monty were her boyfriends. One time a girl thought Monty and Jeff were a couple. They played along the whole night. Funny night out for everyone.

Ok yeah sometimes it really looked that way. The Hand Holding. The cuddling. The hugs. Forehead Kisses. Cheek Kisses. Sleepovers. All those sweet little affections seemed Strange or even misplaced for some people. But that's just how friendship worked in their Group. Not just those three, also Zach and the rest of her friends. Even the boys held hands and kissed each others cheeks sometimes. They loved each other. As friends. Not more. For none of Them. Besides Justin and Penelopee hooking up sometimes but that's another Story.

“Yo, guys join us!” Justin screamed from across the train. Somehow he and Zach found an empty seat for four because the people who sat there before went to get food in another Part of the train.

“Well Miss, it was really nice to meet You, i Hope You get Home Safe”, Monty said, smiling at her. Phee stood up from Monty’s lap and waved at the elderly Lady. “Bye M’am. It was a pleasure”

The Lady wished them luck and waved as well. What a cutie.

As they joined their friends a woman's voice came out of the speakers.

“Dear passengers. Unfortunately our journey will take another 45 minutes to continue since we are waiting for the engineer to fix our technical Problem. We are very sorry for your trouble. “

Everyone sighed. What a drag.

The train hasn’t moved since 25 minutes by now. And it was really hot in this train. Sweating people everywhere.

“Honestly. I think i'm sweating all the way through my pants. The seat sure is soaked by now” Bryce whined from the neighbors seat.

“Thank You, no one wanted to hear that”, Mrs. Carter mumbled, rolling her eyes slightly. She was right that nobody needed this Informationen but everybody could actually relate with him at this point. The young teacher looked really stressed. She was so done with her students by now. Every third one had asked her questions about what happened and how long it would take them to get Home. How would she know?! She obviously was no sidekick otherwise she probably would have gotten the flu as well.

Everyone was fed up really bad.

“This can't get any worse guys..” Justin sighed, using some piece of paper as Fan.

“Oh it actually can... “ Penelopee interrupted him.

Sheri and her just came back from the Toilet. Both looked Kind of tensed, clenching their jaws.

“It's broken” Sheri explained.

“Are You shitting me!?”

“No Justin. Why would we joke about anything Like this!?” Phee asked with a Look that could have easily killed him.

She squeezed her tights together.

“Fucks sake, i shouldn't have drank your Coke ” she mumbled, taking back her seat next to Monty.

“That’s it guys. We are cursed” Zach said.

“Don’t say that..” Sheri begged while squeezing in between justin and Zach. She believed in things Like that.

When they were in 5th grade Sheri, Jeff, Bryce and Phee played with a ouija board once. Sheri saw spookie things that night. Probably just the neighbors cat, 20 years Old and already looking dead. But since that night she had been a little superstitious. This had happened exactly 6 years ago. What a coincident.

Justin patted her shoulder, Holding back his laughter.

“Dear passengers. Please know that we are very sorry but the technical Problem can't be repaired right now. We need to wait for another train to drag us Home. Please take into consideration that the doors to other train compartments are out of Order as well and please stay away from the Windows, Thank You”.

“See!?” Sheri growled.

“Fuck ..” Mrs. Carter sighed.

“Did she just …say the F word!?” Zach asked in disbelief.

“Guess she's one of us now” Bryce laughed.

Sheri and Phee would normally have laughed about something like this but their bladders threatening to explode kept them from moving any muscle.

“ Did you check the other Toilettes!?” Justin suggested.

“ Oh no we did not. How could we forget the obvious solution, idiot .. of course we did!! ” Phee scoffed sarcastically and slightly annoyed.

"Sorry .."

"Yeah so am .. because i'm going to pee all over that fucking seat any minute " she whined trying to squeeze her tights even more together. Which was almost Impossible. And this heat. Nerve wracking.

Sheri bounced her feed nervously. She looked almost as if she would cry.

Sheri and Penelopee by now sat next to each other. Not saying a word. Both just staring out of the window, holding hands as tight as they could.

Out of the sudden the train jerked forward without any warning. Half of the passengers that were standing in the halls fell over. The wagon was full of cursing, angry people. Yay.

"Dear Passengers. We are glad to inform you that our rescue train arrived and that we are now able to continue our journey." You don't say.

".. i don't know if i just pissed myself or if my panties are just soaked with sweat .." Phee noted a little annoyed. She stood up to check her seat. Just sweat. The poor seat was clean. At least as clean as those train seats are.

"No one would have noticed anyway, look at all that sweat stains everywhere and that smell .. smells like Bryce's feet after training .." mumbled a now shirtless Zach.

"Talking about him.. where did he go?" asked Sheri.

"Huh, good question .. BRYCE?!" Justin shouted through the whole train , earning a seriously fed up look from Mrs. Carter.

"I'm here don't panic man" Bryce laughed. He looked strangely satisfied. He placed a bottle with some yellowish liquit in front of the girls.

"Little early for a beer, isn't it?" Phee asked him in disbelief.

He laughed. He almost cried from laughing.

"Alcoholism is not that funny, honey.."

"Uhm yes, no it's not but actually .. i peed in it. The toilets still don't flush and are quite flooded so .. yeah, here you go" he explained.

The guys were rather impressed, debating why they had not thought of it. Sheri and Phee on the other hand just stared at him with. Kind of confused, kind of disgusted.

"Uhm … no!" They both said slowly.

"Please .. move that out of my sight" Phee added.

Bryce just pulled up his shoulders as he put his Bottle of Joy away. Meanwhile the other boys all fetched themselves some bottles and rushed to the toilets.

"God i'm so glad the train is moving by now .. i'm not doing that" Sheri sighed.

The train jerked again, but not forward. The train was standing still again.

"Oh no, no no no … i told you, we are cursed" Sheri panicked. Damn Ouija board. That thing is going to burn tonight.

"Dear Passengers, we are really sorry to inform you that the train tracks ahead of us are blocked. Please stay seated until the tracks are cleaned, thank you"

"Uhrg i wish we could just climb though thode windows, there are some bushes we could use as toilets.." sheri cried out.

They looked at each other, then they looked at Mrs. Carter.

"I'm not telling if you girls don't" she said. She was so done.

The girls did not wait another second, they both squeezed themselves out of that window in the speed of light, running behind some bushes.

God that had to be the best feeling ever.

As their bladders were empty they went back to the train.

"Huh .. how are we going to get back in now?!" Sheri asked the question of all questions.

The boys looked around.

"Well the doors still don't work.." Zach informed.

"Wait, i'm coming out there to lift you guys up .." Justin said, making his way on the outside. Good that he was there. The other boys wouldn't have fit through that very small window.

Unfortunately things went not as planned. He did not completely fit, so the boys shoved him through. He ended up falling right on the girls who thought pulling his arms was a good idea. Turned out not.

As they managed to get off the floor they heard a sharp squeaking. The trains breaks. It was moving forward.

The boys inside looked rather helpless. They couldn't do anything.

"Don't worry, we will figure something out .." Justin Yelled as loud as he could.

Shit.

"Ok, we are going to call Jeff to pick us up and then we are going to burn this fucking witchy piece of wood" Phee said as calm as she could, watching the train vanishing behind a Mountain. Sheri seemed pleased by that.

"Sure .. but where are we ..? " Justin pointed out a not completely irrelevant matter of fact.

"Uhg .. there are some Houses let's go ask .." Sheri suggested. Such a smart girl.

Turned out they were just half an hour away from Home. Good news. Who would have thought.

As Jeff was done laughing after the Situation was explained to him, he made his way to pick his friends up. Good thing it was Friday.

Back home they had a "Ouija Board Bonfire party". Monty even handcrafted a banner. Going to school next week almost seemed relaxing after a day like that. Maybe that's what field trips are for. Making school seem like the smaller evil. Yeah, that must be it.

I don't know if trains in America are the same as in Germany, but here you can actually climb through the windows 😂😂

#13rw #13rw imagine #13rw oc #montgomery de la cruz #zach dempsey #sheri holland #justin foley #bryce walker

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entamewitchlulu · 4 years

Photo

so i did a reading challenge this year and i wanna talk about what i read

transcription under the cut

i did Popsugar 2019 and wanna talk about what i read: Book Reccs and Anti-Reccs

1.) Becoming a Movie in 2019: Umbrella Academy (vol 1) by Gerard Way and Gabriel Ba

4/5. A fascinating take on superpowers, dysfunctional families, and the apocalypse. Can get pretty gory, confusing here and there and you have to pay close attention to panels for lore, but overall an entertaining romp.

2.) Makes you Feel Nostalgic: Circles in the Stream by Rachel Roberts

4/5. Middle grade novel about the magic of music, belief, and of course, friendship. Definitely written for kids, and has some unfortunately clumsy Native rep, but overall an absolute joy to dive into once again.

3.) Written by a Musician: Umbrella Academy (vol 2) by Gerard Way and Gabriel Ba

4/5. Ramps up the confusion to ridiculous degrees with some absolutely bonkers, unexplained arcs, but still fun to watch this dysfunctional family do its dysfunctional thing.

4.) You Think Should be Turned into a movie: All That Glitters by Rachel Roberts

4/5. Continuation of Circles in the Stream, but with more unicorns, more rainbows, and more fae, which makes it automatically even better than the first.

5.) With At Least 1 Mil. Ratings on Goodreads: 1984 by George Orwell

1/5. I understand why it's important and all but wasn't prepared for some of the more graphic scenes and the overall hopelessness of the message. Would not recommend or read again.

6.) W/ a Plant in the title or cover: The secret of Dreadwillow carse by Brian farrey

5/5. A fantasy world where everyone is always happy, save for one girl and the princess, who set out to solve the mystery of their kingdom. Poignant and great for kids and adults.

7.) Reread of a favorite: Cry of the Wolf by Rachel Roberts

4/5. Yet another installment in the Avalon: Web of Magic series, which clearly I am obsessed with. Please just read them.

8.) About a Hobby: Welcome to the Writer's Life by Paulette Perhach

5/5. A welcome kick in the pants, chock full of great advice told without condescension, and full of hope and inspiration for writers both new and old.

9.) Meant to read in 2018: The Poet x by Elizabeth Acevedo

4/5. Absolutely beautiful coming of age novel told in verse. Do yourself a favor and listen to the audiobook version.

10.) w/ "pop," "sugar," or "challenge" in the title: Black Sugar by Miguel Bonnefoy

2/5. I think maybe I just don't understand this genre. Or maybe the translation was weird. I was confused.

11.) w/ An Item of Clothing or Accessory on the cover: Our dreams at Dusk by Yuhki Kamatani

4/5. It had a lot more slurs/homophobia than I was prepared for, but otherwise is a very touching, relatable collection of queer characters living in a heteronormative world.

12.) Inspired by Mythology or Folklore: Ravenous by MarcyKate Connolly

3/5. A girl goes on an impossible quest to save her brother from a child-eating witch. Really wanted to like it more because I loved the first one, Monstrous, but it dragged a little.

13.) Published Posthumously: The Islands of Chaldea by Diana Wynne Jones

3/5. I adore Diana Wynne Jones, but this one was missing some of the magic of her other books. Not sure if it was because it had to be finished by someone else, or if I just grew out of her stories.

14.) Set in Space: Binti by Nnedi Okorafor

4/5. Powerfully written story of a girl straddling tradition and innovation, who wields power through mathematical magic, surviving on a spaceship alone with a dangerous alien occupation after everyone else has been killed.

15.) By 2 Female Authors: Burn for Burn by Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian

2/5. Ostensibly a story about a revenge pact in a small island town, but leaves far too many dangling threads to attempt alluring you to the sequel.

16.) W/ A Title containing "salty," "bitter," "Sweet," or "Spicy": The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith

3/5. It's okay but I literally just never know what anyone means at any time. Are they being reticent on purpose or do i just not understand communication

17.) Set in scandinavia: Vinland Saga by Makoto Yukimura

2/5. Technically and historically accurate and well made, but the story itself is not my cup of tea. Very gory.

18.) Takes Place in a Single Day: Long WAy Down by Jason Reynolds

4/5. A boy goes to avenge his murdered brother, but ghostly passengers join him on the elevator ride down. Stunning and powerful character-driven analysis.

19.) Debut Novel: Nimona by Noelle Stevenson

4/5. Charming and then surprisingly heart-breaking comic about Nimona, a shapeshifter who wants to become a villain's minion. Really love the villain/hero dynamic going on in the background, along with the dysfunctional found family.

20.) Published in 2019: The Book of Pride by Mason Funk

4/5. A collection of interviews with the movers, shakers, and pioneers of the queer and LGBTQ+ community. An absolutely essential work for community members and allies alike.

21.) Featuring an extinct/imaginary creature: Phoebe and her Unicorn by Dana Simpson

4/5. Incredibly charming, Calvin and Hobbes-esque collection of comics featuring the adventures of Phoebe and her unicorn best friend.

22.) Recced by a celebrity you admire: The Emerald Circus by Jane Yolen

2/5. Recced by my fave author Brandon Sanderson. An unfortunately disappointing anthology proving that any story can be made uninteresting by telling the wrong section of it.

23.) With "Love" in the Title: Book Love by Debbie Tung

4/5. One of those relatable webcomics, only this one I felt super hard almost the entire time. Books are awesome and libraries rule.

24.) Featuring an amateur detective: Nancy Drew: Palace of Wisdom by Kelly Thompson

4/5. REALLY love this modern take on Nancy Drew, coming back home to her roots to solve a brand new mystery. Diverse cast and lovely artwork, though definitely more adult.

25.) About a family: Amulet by Kabu Kibuishi

4/5. Excellent, top tier graphic novel about a sister and brother who have to go rescue their mother with a mysterious magic stone. LOVE that the mom gets to be involved in the adventure for once.

26.) by an author from asia, Africa, or s. America: Girls' Last tour by Tsukumizu

4/5. Somehow both light-hearted and melancholy. Two girls travel about an empty, post-apocalyptic world, and muse about life and their next meal.

27.) w/ a Zodiac or astrology term in title: Drawing down the moon by margot adler

3/5. A good starting place for anyone interested in the Neo Pagan movement, but didn't really give me what I was personally looking for.

28.) you see someone reading in a tv show or movie: The Promised NEverland by Kaiu Shirai

4/5. I don't watch TV or movies where people read books so i think reading an adaptation of a TV series after watching the series counts. Anyway it was good but beware racist caricatures

29.) A retelling of a classic: Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy by Rey Terciero

5/5. We can stop the Little Women reboots and retellings now, this is the only one we need. In fact, we can toss out the original too, this is the only one necessary.

30.) w/ a question in the title: So I'm a spider, so what? by Asahiro Kakashi

4/5. Cute art despite the subject matter, and a surprisingly enthralling take on the isekai genre. Love the doubling down on the video game skills.

31.) Set in a college or university campus: Moonstruck (vol 2) by Grace Ellis

2/5. An incredibly cute, beautiful, and fascinating world of modern magic and creatures, but unfortunately falls apart at the plot and pacing.

32.) About someone with a superpower: Moonstruck (vol 1) by Grace Ellis

4/5. Though nearly as messy plot-wise as its sequel, the first volume is overwhelmingly charming in a way that overpowers the more confusing plot elements.

33.) told from multiple povs: The Long way to a Small, Angry Planet by becky Chambers

4/5. Told almost in a serial format, like watching a miniseries, a group of found-family spaceship crew members make the long journey to their biggest job ever.

34.) Includes a wedding: We Set the dark on fire by Tehlor kay mejia

4/5. Timely and poignant, a girl tumbles into both love and resistance after becoming one of two wives to one of the most powerful men in the country.

35.) by an author w/ alliterative name: The only harmless great Thing by brooke bolander

3/5. Much deeper than I can currently comprehend. Beautifully written, but difficult to parse.

36.) A ghost story: Her body and other parties by Carmen Maria Machado

4/5. It counts because one of the stories in it has ghosts. A sometimes difficult collection of surrealist, feminist, queer short stories.

37.) W/ a 2 word title: Good omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

4/5. Charming, touching, and comical, probably the best take on the apocalypse to date. Also excellent ruminations on religion and purpose.

38.) based on a true story: The faithful Spy by John Hendrix

4/5. Brilliantly crafted graphic biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and his assistance in fighting back against Nazi Germany.

39.) Revolving around a puzzle or game: the Crossover by Kwame alexander

4/5. The verse didn't always hit right with me, but the story is a sweet, melancholy one about family, loss, and moving on.

40.) previous popsugar prompt (animal in title): The last unicorn by peter s. Beagle

5/5. Absolutely one of my all-time favorite books, it manages to perfectly combine anachronism and comedy with lyricism, melancholy, and ethereal beauty.

41.) Cli-fi: Tokyo Mew Mew by Mia ikumi and Reiko Yoshida

4/5. Shut up it counts

42.) Choose-your-own-adventure: My Lady's choosing by Kitty curran

3/5. Cute in concept, a bit underwhelming in execution. Honestly, just play an otome.

43.) "Own Voices": Home by Nnedi Okorafor

3/5. The storytelling style was definitely not my style; while the first book was slow, too, it felt more purposeful. I found my attention wandering during this installment.

44.) During the season it's set in: Pumpkinheads by rainbow rowell

3/5. Cute art, but precious little substance. The concept simply wasn't for me in the first place.

45.) LITRPG: My next life as a villainess: All routes lead to doom! by Hidaka nami

5/5. An absolute insta-fave! Charming art, endearing characters, an incredible premise, and so much sweet wholesome fluff it'll give you cavities.

46.) No chapters: The field guide to dumb birds of north america by matt kracht

3/5. It started out super strong, but the joke started to wear thin at a little past the halfway point.

47.) 2 books with the same title: Unfollow by Megan Phelps-Roger

4/5. A brave and enduring personal story of growing up in and eventually leaving the Westboro Baptist Church. Really called to me to act with grace and kindness even more in the future.

48.) 2 books with the same title: unfollow by rob williams and michael dowling

1/5. How many times do you think we can make Battle Royale again before someone notices

49.) That has inspired a common phrase or idiom: THe Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

4/5. Definitely good and deserves it's praise as something that pretty much revolutionized and created an entire demographic of literature.

50.) Set in an abbey, cloister, Monastery, convent, or vicarage: Murder at the vicarage by agatha christie

3/5. I just cannot. physically keep up with all of these characters or find the energy to read between the lines.

ok that's all i got, what did y'all read and like this year? (oh god it’s gonna be 2020)

#book reccs #lulu booktalks

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

Text

Jimmy & Janis

Jimmy: [a picture of the lil card thingy on the bulletin board or wherever] Jimmy: Oi Jimmy: you still doing that? Janis: Yeah Janis: 10 euro Mon-Fri for a 20 min walk Jimmy: You do longer or what? Janis: Yeah, that's on lunch break but after School hours I can put it on an hour group walk Janis: between 4-10, pick any hour you want Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: depends what shift I'm on Jimmy: don't have to sign in blood or owt, do I? Janis: won't give you a discount if you do Jimmy: gutted Janis: 'course Janis: if you need weekends and all, I can give you a tenner off but that's it Jimmy: might do Jimmy: sounds like you're cheaper than my sister Janis: weird flex Janis: you know dogs like routine, yeah? Jimmy: 🐕 'll be 💔 on your time Janis: when do you want me to start? Jimmy: tomorrow do you? Janis: Fine by me Janis: get me a key cut, [park name] work for you? Jimmy: 👍 Janis: oh, is there anything I need to know about it Janis: actual like it can't be let off the lead, or bullshit like all the 'allergies' it has Jimmy: up to you that, she won't come back if you do Janis: if you're planning on no-showing Janis: or you ain't got a dog Janis: 1. you won't be the first Janis: 2. i will smack the shit out of you Jimmy: 1. love a park, me Jimmy: 2. [a picture of Twix] Janis: 1. i'm not walking you, btw Janis: 2. put a paper with today's date in it so i know it's real Jimmy: 1. 💔 Jimmy: 2. [does and has doodled on the paper like a nerd] Janis: 1. and I don't babysit humans so leave your sister at home as well Janis: 2. 👍 Janis: give a fuck if you've nicked it, long as you've cut the microchip out Jimmy: 1. only 'cause she'd smack the shit outta you, mate, there's another weird flex for you Jimmy: 2. wouldn't nick nowt that looked like that, tah Janis: 1. not my business that you wanna fuck your sister Janis: 2. and i don't nick nothing so you can trust me with your house key 👌 Jimmy: 1. it ain't that grim up north, but alright Jimmy: 2. crack on, nowt worth having any road Janis: anyone with shit to take has cameras all over the gaff, you're alright Jimmy: only got the one in the 🧸's 👀 Jimmy: stay out my little brother's room and you're alright an' all Janis: not the nonce, new boy Jimmy: 💔 for you Janis: euro, not sympathy Janis: take pound, if that's all you got but no credit either Jimmy: lived here long enough to do the change over Jimmy: nowt but the accent sticks Janis: either way, not gonna be on the BBC any time soon with the latest headlines Janis: 💔 Jimmy: hang on, I'll get my 🎻out Jimmy: earn the 💰 while I'm there Janis: give a fuck how you get it, long as you can afford me Jimmy: you ain't that expensive, girl Jimmy: we've done that bit Janis: competitively priced Jimmy: 🏆👏 Janis: definitely not getting paid in applause Janis: we're done here, yeah? Jimmy: What if I'm REALLY good at it? Janis: HIGHLY doubt it Jimmy: whatever you've heard is bollocks Jimmy: can go and on when I get going 👏 Janis: no need to tell me Janis: this is really dragging Jimmy: dry your eyes, mate Janis: what's it called? Jimmy: Twix Janis: 😏 Janis: How sweet Jimmy: funny Janis: not the crappest name I've heard Jimmy: rather it were Jimmy: 🥇 is better than nowt Janis: I fake that I like theirs to their faces Janis: no reason I can't fake the opposite to yours Janis: all part of the service Jimmy: 👍 Janis: you can pay each day or weekly Jimmy: how does every other dickhead do it? Janis: depends on the dickhead Janis: the ones that never wanna see the help just drop bank in my account monthly Janis: most people do weekly though, then you only have to 👀 me once every Janis: unless you're a lonely 👵 or letchy 👴 then get the pleasure of seeing you every single day for a chat, obvs Jimmy: there you go then Jimmy: busted 👴 Janis: Hooray Janis: be easy, give it me at school, right? Jimmy: Long as Mr Lucas ain't about Jimmy: don't need no ideas, him Janis: ugh 🙄 he's one computer sweep away from mysteriously fucking off one day and none of the others having anything to say about it Jimmy: makes nonce look well fit though Jimmy: better hit him up for tips before he goes Janis: you had Janis: busy boy Jimmy: in a bit then Janis: Later Jimmy: [later] Jimmy: if I ain't got a 🔑 for you, that the whole thing off? Janis: just saves time, which is typically why people hire me Janis: but if you're in or can drop the dog to me, don't matter, I guess Jimmy: alright Janis: not have time or not trust us? Jimmy: take your pick Jimmy: well generous like that, me Janis: long as you're paying, give a fuck Janis: you've still got that, yeah? Jimmy: I heard, don't 👏 throw 💰 Janis: that's where the parallels between this and the club end Jimmy: earning it for you now, my dear Jimmy: keep calm and crack on Janis: 💘 Janis: try keep your burns 2nd degree n below Jimmy: spoilsport Janis: fine Janis: just aim the steam thing away from your face Janis: if you get sacked, so do I now Jimmy: disability'll pay Jimmy: be alright Janis: go for your life then, new boy Jimmy: tah Janis: anytime Jimmy: 4-10 Janis: oddly people don't want me taking their dogs in the middle of the night Janis: who'd've thought it Jimmy: bit rude that Jimmy: no trust nowadays 👴 Janis: they just wanna be the ones to murder me Janis: 🙄 Jimmy: whatever floats your ⛵ lads Janis: oh, cheers Jimmy: can't be the only 🐕🗨 about, you Janis: only one you could afford Janis: reason you found the ad Jimmy: I might be a secret millionaire Jimmy: wouldn't be the most bollocks rumour going about Janis: give me more money and I'll spread that one instead Jimmy: piss off Janis: worth a shot Jimmy: miss all them you don't take, girl Janis: they got that on a poster near the maths block, don't they Jimmy: probably Jimmy: got shot right into the bin though, didn't it? Janis: 🗑 Janis: only I'm that good a shot, 2nd attempt, I'll believe Jimmy: still 🎯 Janis: you like 👏 or what Jimmy: don't have to like something to be good at it Jimmy: told you I were Janis: that's about the ☕ init? Jimmy: told you to take your pick an' all so Jimmy: whatever floats your ⛵ lass Janis: not info we need to share for this to still be on Jimmy: be a bit weird if it were Janis: fake 👴 Jimmy: in my day if the 🗨 weren't over a fence it didn't count for nowt Janis: get some 🌳 to lurk in Jimmy: have a row about cutting 'em an' all Jimmy: win win Janis: hot Jimmy: I know Jimmy: 💔 the 🐕 ain't gonna get stuck up a tree but a 😭 story for another day, that Jimmy: I'll save it til you're on the clock Janis: ❌ animal abuse, even casual, cost way more than you got Jimmy: well sure of the contents of my pockets, you Jimmy: can have a full wallet AND be pleased to see you Janis: God Janis: maybe you are 👴 alright, don't need to go that hard to prove it Jimmy: but you're just THAT 🥇 Jimmy: 💕 Janis: yeah yeah Janis: you're on the clock, I get it Janis: ain't a customer though Jimmy: 💔🎻💔 for you Janis: if that's how your chat goes, I'm alright for it Janis: and the shit coffee Jimmy: nowt an overpriced latte can't cure Jimmy: my chat included Janis: wrong twin Jimmy: nah Jimmy: she don't need the hard sell Jimmy: nowt I can do to be rid of her Janis: don't claim her Janis: or her slag behaviour Jimmy: me either Janis: pleased for you, honestly Jimmy: no need to 👏 Jimmy: leave it to the pros Janis: not 👏 for either of you Janis: have to pay you damages if you was part of her body count Janis: cba Jimmy: your apathy is 🤤🤤🤤 Janis: clearly Jimmy: warn us next time Jimmy: trying to keep this professional here Janis: you're doing SO good Janis: 🤤🤤🤤 Jimmy: leave that for the 🐕 Janis: SO weird, new kid Jimmy: been said Janis: bears repeating Jimmy: all 👂 Janis: not now Jimmy: part-timer Janis: I wish Jimmy: you're alright, got Asia in my DMs, bound to be what she's saying Janis: save me the summary Janis: I've heard all 2 thoughts she has already Jimmy: me an' all Jimmy: soz if you reckoned you were special Janis: 💔💔💔 Jimmy: #relatable Janis: she must be telling you why she ain't in today Janis: hair or nails, that's the question Jimmy: hang on Jimmy: 💅 DUH Janis: how else do you show off how little you do with your hands Janis: silly me Jimmy: have a word with yourself, honestly Janis: I would Janis: but you're so chatty, can't get a word in Jimmy: 🤐 Jimmy: there you go Janis: so generous, I heard Jimmy: 👍 Janis: what time you coming today Janis: you not said Jimmy: [a time] Janis: alright Jimmy: can do a bit later if you need Jimmy: but no earlier Janis: can make that time Janis: loads of my usuals are either off to walk their dogs or their kids are so Jimmy: unlucky Janis: yeah Janis: least it's not the only way of making money I got Jimmy: the club, I heard Jimmy: and the theft Jimmy: bet you get written into loads of 👴 wills an' all Janis: those the rumours? Jimmy: just what you said Janis: no bother, if I needed shit spreading, I'd go to your punters well before you Jimmy: would be a good shout Janis: not stupid Jimmy: nor northern 💔🎻😭 Jimmy: can't win 'em all, Judith Janis: says you Jimmy: it were me who typed that yeah Janis: soz, so many 🐶🗨 Jimmy: loads of bitches here an' all Jimmy: funny that Janis: not special, I remember Jimmy: none of us are, mate Janis: deep, barista boy Jimmy: be about right Janis: print that one on the cups or is that an original thought? Jimmy: SUCH a deep cut Janis: nah Janis: we ain't having that much fun Jimmy: no need to tell me, had my 😭 about it Janis: Poor baby Jimmy: loads of them here an' all if you want one Janis: 👶? Jimmy: I get it, you're thinking what'll I do Jimmy: don't worry I'll live, keep a few spare out the back Janis: yes, I'm well concerned about you Jimmy: you heard, no need Janis: can't help being nice, boy Jimmy: it's your blessing and/or curse, Jasmine Jimmy: nowt to do with me Janis: who brings a baby to a coffee shop Jimmy: what kind of question is that? Janis: serious one Janis: what kind of selfish dickhead Jimmy: the kind who'd call themselves a yummy mummy or whatever bollocks else Jimmy: massive group of 'em are having a sesh Janis: ew Janis: least there'll be less in the park Jimmy: tah @ the CG Jimmy: job done Janis: if only you could lock 'em in and turn the gas on Janis: 😍 Jimmy: could Janis: don't be a tease Jimmy: or what? Janis: Something bad must happen Janis: or they wouldn't say it Jimmy: ask Mr Lucas Jimmy: he knows Janis: what doesn't he Janis: galaxy brain to teach R.E. Jimmy: 😍😍😍 Janis: when you go postal, make sure my sister is in there and I'll make it worth your while anyway Jimmy: hot Janis: 'course Jimmy: ain't the rumour Janis: ? Jimmy: 🥶🧊👑 Janis: 🙄 Jimmy: weren't a denial Janis: What's to deny? Janis: the lads that spread that look like 🐁 Janis: not claiming them in a hurry tah Jimmy: you can just say every lad about, it's alright Jimmy: won't dob you in to your paddy ancestors or owt Janis: you said it, not me Jimmy: I did do Janis: you think you're well 😍 then, yeah? Jimmy: don't think about bollocks like that, too #deep Janis: 🤓 Janis: got it Jimmy: leave that one out of the rumour pile Jimmy: just ain't believable Jimmy: *😎 Janis: answered my question there Janis: smug Jimmy: 💔 Janis: 😘 Jimmy: 🥶🧊👑 Janis: 🐁 Jimmy: bollocks Janis: and? Janis: so's that for all you know Jimmy: never said it weren't Janis: you've said it twice, don't need to Jimmy: I've took the piss twice Jimmy: not taken it as gospel Janis: whatever Jimmy: 🙄 Janis: don't need the truth on 😎 or 🥵🔥👑 for this either Janis: just bring the 🐶 when you're done Jimmy: weren't offering it but alright Janis: then I can save you as 🐁🤓 and move on with my day Jimmy: don't need to save me as nowt, my dear Janis: easier than talking to a load of numbers Jimmy: what do we need to talk about? Janis: the 🐶 and the 💰 Jimmy: you'll get both Jimmy: 🗨 done Janis: you're the one who's shifts change, apparently Janis: so you'll need to tell me when Janis: it's no deeper than that Jimmy: @ my manager then, dickhead Janis: I'm being practical Janis: not a mindreader as well as a dogwalker, so you don't need to get aggro, dickhead Jimmy: you're being a dickhead 'cause I said you were 🥶🧊👑 Janis: No need is there Janis: just drop it Jimmy: 👏 Jimmy: peacemaker and 🐕🗨 Janis: Go be a twat somewhere else Jimmy: you wanna get 💰 or what? Jimmy: no tips if you've got a mard on Janis: don't see 🙂 anywhere in my job description Janis: work with animals not basic bitches Jimmy: ain't a massive difference Janis: less 🔊 Jimmy: depends on the 🐕 Jimmy: mine never shuts up Janis: I can wear 🎧 'cos don't need to hear their order Janis: un🍀 Jimmy: I can lip read Jimmy: and our menu ain't that grand Janis: obvs coming back for all your talents Jimmy: it were you who called the coffee shit Jimmy: what else could it be? Janis: dunno Janis: not as if I've ever had any Janis: hoping they were at least partially in it for their caffeine addiction Jimmy: for the #aesthetic Janis: 🙄 Janis: 'course Jimmy: if you need a selfie for your ad the lighting is 🔥🔥🔥 Janis: if ever I wanna put 'em in a phonebox Jimmy: kill off a couple of the 👴💕 Janis: only once I'm in the will, obvs Janis: counterintuitive otherwise Jimmy: duh babes Janis: can you not Jimmy: obvs Janis: then don't Jimmy: 👍 Janis: 🖕 Jimmy: 👌 Janis: 👋 Jimmy: 😘

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talesofafangirlwithadvr · 5 years

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September Picks

I know; it’s October 12th and I am only getting to my September picks now. But better late than never and I wanted to share some of my favorites from last month. (Because there were so many great ones to choose from.)

DOWNTON ABBEY THE MOVIE

It FINALLY happened and you better believe I was there opening weekend in a packed theater of other Downton Abbey fans. (I shouldn’t have been shocked it would have been so hard to get tickets, but maybe I should have planned a head a little better.) Stepping into the theater it felt like it was just yesterday that I saw my “friends” on screen. Sure, there were things I forgot about and should have watched a previously on before going, but as soon as the AMAZING opening/title sequence began, everything came flooding back. AND can we talk about the music. Hearing the Downton Abbey theme in surround sound and a darkened theater was just PERFECT. When I had seen the trailer for the first time I was blown away by hearing the music and it just became even more powerful watching the movie. There was a lot of hype going into this film and I was a little worried how it would go. But it was the perfect ending to the series (although now I’m hearing of a possible sequel??). I loved how they left the characters. They each had a satisfying ending that was just what their characters needed. I would see it again in a heartbeat and you know I am debating about watching the series all over again.

ALADDIN

Currently Disney is in the midst of making Live Action adaptations of their original classics. From The Jungle Book to Beauty and the Beast, I have been a fan of these new takes on my favorite childhood stories. I like the way they create new story-lines and bring something new (and even more contemporary) to these stories. Once Aladdin came out to DVD we instantly bought it thanks to my sister’s rave review. Then it was put to the test and (of course) compared to the original. I have to say I was very impressed and since watching it the first time, I have watched it/parts of it at times, again since. There was a lot of pressure on Will Smith’s Genie, but I have to say that I really like the Genie he created. It honored Robin Williams but was also him. The music was great and Jasmine’s “Speechless” has instantly become one of my favorites. I really loved her added plot-line of wanting to be Sultan herself and not having to choose a husband. I thought this was fantastic because why wouldn’t she question that. The costumes were cool and the sets really brought you to Agrabah. The humor was great. All round, I would highly suggest watching this film if you’re a fan of the original and haven’t gotten a chance to yet.

THE OUTPOST

The CW’s Summer Fantasy Show finished its second season this month and I gotta say I definitely liked the first season more, but this season did end on a high note and I hope they get renewed for a third. The cliffhanger we ended on will be really interesting to explore in a third season. If it got renewed for a second then there’s hope for a third, right? (I know that’s not necessarily true, but I am going to give it hope.) This season the beginning dragged a bit for me (which I know I talked about in earlier posts), but when Garrett was welcomed back into the story-line I feel like more began to happen in all other plot-lines. Then in the middle we entered a few eh episodes, but by the end as Gwynn’s brother returned, Tobin and Gwynn grew closer and Garrett traveled to the capitol with Talon, I felt sucked back in. If only more of the episodes were as good as these. Either way I looked forward to watching it over the summer when a lot of stuff goes into repeats.

PANDORA

Okay, so I have definitely talked about this show a lot this summer, but that’s because I can’t believe how much I enjoyed it. When it started out, I thought I’d give it a go because it seemed right up my ally. While there were times where I felt like I missed an episode (because time passed very fast episode to episode and characters got closer and knew things we didn’t), as the season went on I felt myself longing for the new episode the next week. I haven’t watched too much Sci-Fi and now I feel like I want to. I liked how much we explored this season and all the different adventures the characters went on. The season felt like the start of something bigger because there were standalone events and then as the season progressed a bigger threat came about. There’s a lot of mystery, particularly revolving around Jax, and I like how most of the answers were provided at the end of the season. And then those last few minutes! That reveal! I really want a season 2! Please give it to us CW. We deserve a show like this. There isn’t much like it out there.

BINGE-ING

THE FLASH

That’s right! Finally caught up on last season! And just in time for the current season to start with past Tuesday. (But you guessed it! Haven’t started it yet, but it’s taped so that’s a good sign.) While Nora wasn’t my favorite character, I do love what she brought to this past season. I thought it was really exciting to have Barry and Iris’ daughter come back from the future and see what’s in store for their future. It was a different kind of season, which was refreshing because often it feels like the same kind of events occur (across all CW superhero shows) It might not help because 22 episodes is a lot. I really loved this year’s incarnation of Wells with Sherloque and how he was constantly correcting people on the correct way of saying it. I liked Caitlin/Killer Frost’s story this season. I just thought it was random when they brought her dad in the second time. Felt like filler. Super upset with Cisco. HOW CAN HE JUST GIVE UP HIS POWERS?? THEY ARE THE BEST AND WE NEED THEM! It will be very interesting to see what happens with this in the current season. Loved Baby Giraffe. Great seeing Iris FINALLY reporting again! Seeing both her and Barry in the field doing their day jobs was great. It felt like old times. I hope they keep that up this season. Overall, season 5 is one of my favorites (especially compared to the last 2 seasons).

THE WALKING DEAD

My journey with Rick Grimes continued from season 5 to 6 and now 7. It’s hard thinking back where I started this month because so much has happened and I breezed through a lot of these seasons. They are so addicting and before you know it you have watched 6 episodes. Currently Alexandria is teaming up with Hill-top and possibly the Kingdom in their plans to take down the Saviors and Neegan. A lot of loss has happened and I’m starting to know less spoilers because I am getting closer to the current episodes. Can’t wait to continue on!

GOOD LUCK CHARLIE

At the start of another school semester I always love re-watching a sitcom. I can’t really explain why. Maybe it’s the short episodes, needing a laugh, or just watching something familiar. This fall I was drawn back to Good Luck Charlie. Arguably one of the best Disney Channel Shows of all time. (That’s right I said it.) I was very excited to see the complete series on demand and am worried I won’t get past the first season before 10/30 when it says will be its last day up. Watching these old episodes are bringing up some great memories. The episodes still hold up really well and makes me wish I knew the Duncan’s personally. Wish me luck that I get to watch my favorites before the end of October!

RE-WATCH STEPHANIE’S FAVORITES

THAT THING YOU DO!

I’m ending with a segment I’m calling Stephanie’s All-time favorites. (Debating about making this a post all in itself). In the middle of September my sisters and I watched one of my all time favorite movies, That Thing You Do! (1996). This film directed and written by Tom Hanks follows The Wonders, a one-hit wonder band (get the title) as they make it in show business. We all know the story and have seen it before, but there’s something about Hanks’ movie that makes it stand out and one of my favorites. Great cast of characters, amazing music (I can seriously never get sick of the signature song based on the movie title) and so much humor and heart. I can quote A LOT of phrases from this movie. After watching it this time I found a special feature about how the cast went to Asia and performed as the Wonders. They truly were like a rock band. It was so cool to watch. If you have heard of That Thing You Do! and have never seen it now is the time. If you have and haven’t watched it in a while, then watch it! For anyone who has never heard of it I would STRONGLY suggest you check it out. You won’t be sorry.

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Chronicles of the Impossible; or, five small realisations - Part 2, Brooke (Crooke) - fandomfeministe

A/N: Thanks again to Saiph for being such a good second pair of eyes, and helping me figure out what would make sense to go where. I have ideas for a couple more chapters but I am completely open to any prompts or suggestions for what people might like to see in future :)

Chronicles of the Impossible; or, five small realisations (Part 2 - Brooke)

Realisation the first - Cracker, Henry and Apollo

The afternoon after that early morning phone call between Brooke and his mom was the first time Cracker had the opportunity to hang out with the beings he considered his children - his cats. Brooke himself had gone for a shower, and his lover had taken the time to unpack; given that he was going to spend a few days here, and he was particular about his stuff, Cracker was keen to make sure he didn’t make more work for himself on getting back to New York by letting everything get trashed.

His problem, however, was that his lover’s babies had had other ideas. He’d laid out his clothes, ready to refold and place them back into the drawers Brooke had arranged for him, and had decided to go grab a drink. Not more than thirty seconds had he been out of the room, grabbing a soda, when he returned to find that his favourite black turtleneck had won itself a pair of new fans - Henry and Apollo, curled up on its soft surface. “I can’t believe you walked right past everything else to make yourselves comfortable on that!” he gasped, wondering how on earth he was going to negotiate getting his turtleneck back in a reasonable state without truly pissing off the human who loved these adorable, thieving little assholes.

When Brooke returned from the shower, it was his turn to watch his lover from the doorway into the living room. With a towel wrapped around his waist and a fond smile on his face, his gaze was fixed towards the smaller man on the couch. There was no denying it… Cracker spoke to the cats like they were tiny, furry, incredibly exasperating humans.

“Look, you guys, I know this sweater is comfortable. I like it too, that’s why I bought it,” he was saying, directly addressing the cats. Apollo was stretched out on the couch beside him, nonplussed and with his tail gently swishing, and Henry sat on the floor directly in front of him, sitting up straight with his head tilted, wondering why on earth the new human seemed to be waving around the new comfy thing he and his brother had discovered. It was an air of polite indifference, if such an expression could be read on a cat (and Brooke did).

“But really, I don’t live with cats, so I’m not used to getting hair off my clothes. I hope we can get along, here, because your human happens to be someone whose good side I want to stay on. Understood?” In response, he got a look of apathy from Apollo and an almost pitying mew from Henry, who approached the older man’s feet and stretched up his paws, standing on his hind legs, seeking pets. Cracker sighed and gave them to him, scritching the more outgoing feline behind the ears. “You three are going to be the end of me, you know that?” he lamented, almost jumping as he heard Brooke’s heavier steps pad over the wooden flooring towards them. “The fuck, Brooke? How did you sneak up on me?”

“Couldn’t help it. You scolding my cats over a turtleneck was just too cute,” he bantered back, kneeling down to kiss the New York queen. While Cracker almost blushed into the kiss, Brooke couldn’t help but feel his heart melt.

Realisation the second - Cracker’s quick wit (on stage)

While her gigs in New York had the celebratory tone of being on home turf, with the regular crowd at her usual bars and clubs just excited to see her, Cracker had mentioned to Brooke that making appearances elsewhere in the country was always slightly more intimidating. Fun, yes, but give the wrong sort of performance on the wrong sort of night, and your reputation in the region could certainly take a hit.

There were places where being known as a New York queen could be especially difficult no matter what sort of performer you were. Since Season 6, every single season of Drag Race had had a New York girl in the final, and the city’s queens had even taken three in a row - her own drag mother being one of those. There were plenty of queens - and even fans - who would be quite happy to see the NYC girls taken down a peg or two.

So it was that Cracker was on stage, midway through her set, and Brooke was completely impressed with how his lover was working the crowd. Every so often she’d take a little walk along the stage, directing a different part of her story to a different group of people, giving them that little moment of closeness with the queen they’d been excited to see. It was beautifully done, really, Brooke thought. It gave different parts of the audience their moment of feeling like they had her attention, and at the same time, made her look like she was at home here as she was back in NYC, commanding the stage like she owned it. It reminded her of Cracker in London, actually, around the time they first became… well, whatever they’d become.

Brooke was laughing, almost uncontrollably so, at the story she was telling about the time “her friend” was driving away from an ex’s house with a bag full of sex toys. He’d heard it before, at least three times, and knew the punchline off by heart. There was something about the way Cracker told it though - tweaking it slightly for each audience she told it to - that made sure it was still hilarious every time. And the way she stood there, in the bright turquoise leotard, big Barbie hair and her hand on her hip like she was totally done with everything? He found it hysterical.

Only now, he could see from the slight change in her facial expression that she actually WAS done with everything, and his eyes followed her gaze out into the crowd. Some guy, sitting there with an incredibly embarrassed looking girlfriend, had wobbled to his feet, cupped his hand around his mouth and was attempting to yell, interrupting Cracker’s set. Cracker, Brooke and the girlfriend were not the only people who were starting to get pissed off, but the performer in Brooke noticed Cracker’s response - a steady set to the hips, holding firm, and a smooth tone to her voice that was as cold as steel.

��Sorry, dude, I don’t understand a word you’re saying. I don’t have a filter for drunk idiots.”

The audience tittered, one or two clapping in support.

Brooke didn’t quite hear the next thing the guy yelled, but knew it must have been a low blow about appearance when Cracker quirked her brow and raised her hand higher on her hip, pushing them back and tits out as she spoke to the rest of the audience - who, it could be noticed, was a good three fifths female and female presenting. “And yet,” Cracker began, “even your own damn girlfriend is looking at me more than you right now. And the lesbians would definitely rather have me than a guy who looks like he usually spends a weekend crying over his shitty fantasy football picks, letting Cheeto crumbs fall into his pants.” The heckler visibly shrank back, almost purple in embarrassment as the people around him literally pointed and laughed, some even pulling out their phones to record the interaction. The whole thing would probably be on YouTube before the morning. “That’s right, dude. Go sit in the corner and finish evolving.” A huge roar went up from the crowd, and Cracker took a step or two back before continuing her set, allowing herself a moment to soak up the acclaim.

Brooke almost shook his head in admiration, a smile spreading across his face. Somehow, this quick-thinking, pocket-sized powerhouse was interested in him?

He would definitely have to show his appreciation later.

Realisation the third - Cracker’s quick wit (off-stage)

It was May, quite late on, and the four of them were gathered for brunch in LA right before the insanity of the Drag Race end-season began. Brooke was a strange mix of tense and relaxed, knowing just how much was coming and the potential fall-out of both. There was the soon-to-air reunion, of course, and mere days ago they’d filmed the episode in which the fans would finally find out about just how over the whole Branjie thing was. It was certainly not something he was looking forward to, more for the resurrection of their own hurt and pain over the whole relationship than for a real fear about what people might say. He was cold, the Ice Queen… he could handle that. Right?

The one thing - or person, he should say - who was giving him doubts about his ability to breeze through this was sitting opposite him at the table, sharing raucous laughter with Monet about something his sister had said. Nina, ever the mom friend, had turned to look at him, bringing Brooke back into the conversation with a little wave to catch his attention. He was soon brought out of his thoughts, and his focus was brought back to a shorter, dark-haired man who managed to command the group’s attention despite being easily the most delicate and diminutive looking queen there. The Canadian was starting to feel things for him that he hadn’t felt since he’d broken up with Vanjie months ago - and what scared him was how much this didn’t scare him. Not this time. But the thought of what the next few weeks would stir up, and how he would have to keep his feelings squashed again… it hurt. It made him feel like he wanted to lash out and tell the world anyway, public perception be damned.

Now that, that was new.

Nina had asked Cracker and Monet a question about how things had been the year before, when the girls had been thrown straight into their own tour after the drama that had been stirred up at their own reunion. When the Aquaria vs Cracker storyline hadn’t produced quite what the show wanted, the reunion episode had had quite a bitter moment when Asia’s words in the Evil Twin challenge were brought up, causing the girls to relive some memories they’d already worked past or, in some cases, buried. It gave Brooke some hope, seeing the friends here now, that whatever trouble would be stirred for the Season 11 queens, they too would be able to work it out.

It had worked out so well, in fact, that Cracker was now recounting a story about how she, Monet, Asia, Kameron, Dusty, Blair, Vixen and Yuhua had been in bunks on the same bus, and the small space the eight of them were crammed into had resulted in Asia being fed up at the thought of climbing up and down every time. So fed up, in fact, that she’d ended up gathering a bunch of stuff at the end of the bunk, “like something out of Hoarders, bitch!” and accidentally outed some of her personal preferences in a very late night phone call home to her man.

The imitations that followed, somehow spot-on and satirical at the same damn time, had Brooke in stitches to the point of almost hurting himself. There was something about Cracker’s quick wit - its hyper intelligence, pin-point accuracy and ability to jab whoever was necessary (including himself) that Brooke really admired in his lover. There was enough to draw him there, holding him to the older queen like a pair of magnets, even without all of this. But the laughter and sheer glee of the late morning in the LA sunshine, shared platters slowly being demolished as the levels in the wine bottles got lower and lower, that held an allure all of its own. His eyes were fixed in one direction in particular, and he didn’t feel like hiding it anymore.

Realisation the fourth - activism and dedication

A month later, and around three after the two queens had first become a thing, Brooke and Cracker were in another small café, this time in NYC, spending the day together before the rest of Pride month meant that things became more busy for the pair of them. Brooke, as runner up in the most recent season of Drag Race, was a man in high demand. Cracker, though the news wasn’t public yet, was about to head off to film All Stars 5. The fact that a busy, working queen was going to be MIA during the busiest month of the year would not go unnoticed, and would essentially confirm many fans’ predictions.

Their lives, in short, were about to go crazy. Crazier than things usually were once you became a Ru Girl, at any rate.

It also meant, of course, that they were going to see nothing of each other for weeks, hence this lunch date.

Cracker, however, had spent a whole quarter hour of their meeting on the phone, apologising profusely for the apparent need to accept the call. As soon as he’d answered, he began almost immediately talking in another language, one that Brooke didn’t recognise. He knew it wasn’t French, obviously, and recognised enough of the odd Hebrew word he’d heard in his lover’s company that it wasn’t that, either. He must have looked confused, though, because when the person on the other end of the call put him on hold - seemingly as they looked for information - Cracker met his eyes. “Wolof,” he said succinctly. “I’m talking to people I used to work with in Senegal.”

Of course, Brooke thought, his own eyes closing as Cracker began speaking again. Now things started to fall into place. He knew that, like his mom, Cracker had grown into an adult working in an artistic field. One of his last jobs before going into drag full time had been working in various New York galleries, specialising in dealings of West African pieces, which had meant he needed to travel a lot. Of course, being openly gay in many parts of the continent was still a huge risk, and ever since, Cracker had links with groups in various places campaigning for human rights victories. Now, as it was Pride in the US, it made sense for him to be in touch.

It was something oddly beautiful to witness, too. Brooke didn’t have to speak a word of Wolof to know that the subject of the conversation was something of great excitement to Cracker and his friend, the American waving his free hand wildly in the air as his eyes had an undeniable sparkle to them. Brooke couldn’t bear to interrupt, or even signal his interest to him lest he be a distraction, and so he decided to watch him instead. His own smile became just visible over the top of his coffee cup.

Along with so many things he’d reflected on of late, this was one more thing that Brooke was growing to love - no, not that word, he told himself, not allowing even the tiniest bit of the thought to sneak through - about the New Yorker sitting in front of him. He was someone so spirited, so passionate, so dedicated to the causes he believed in, that it was impossible for Brooke to believe he didn’t mean every single word and action of his activism.

It made his own heart swell just thinking about it.

When his lover had hung up on the call, Brooke reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently and with admiration written all over his face. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, quickly leaning over the table to give the smaller man a kiss.

The time it took for them to leave cash on the table and head back to Cracker’s place took longer than the phone call, but as they later lay curled up in each other’s arms, both men considered it worth it.

Realisation the fifth - three little words

It had been weeks, but felt more like months, since Brooke and Cracker had had their lunch date in NYC. A few days later, Brooke’s lover had flown to LA to film All Stars 5, and the cycle of their being caught in the maelstrom of Drag Race began again. It was different being the one on the outside, knowing that your loved one was going through the intense competition process and you had no way of reaching them. On more than one lonely night, Brooke found himself going through old texts, pictures and videos they’d taken together in the last few months - sometimes using them to help reach his own pleasure, other times scrolling through the sweeter ones and sleeping curled up in a ball, his phone still in hand.

What he hadn’t yet been willing to acknowledge to himself was just how much the other man meant to him, but that denial couldn’t last forever. It all came to a head when, on a night out with Nina, he turned down the advances of no fewer than three separate guys who’d sidled up to him at the bar, batting their eyes and slinking away disappointed within minutes. There was a different vibe to Brooke now, and it wasn’t hard to see it. When a fourth approached, and Brooke simply got up and walked away, Nina had to say something - linking an arm through his, and walking him swiftly to one of the booths, his eyes flicking left and right before speaking.

“Something’s different. Spill.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nina.”

“Bullshit!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly as some nearby clubgoers turned their heads in surprise. Sheepishly, Nina lowered his head to continue. “You’ve had men crawling all over you, all night. You haven’t even looked at any of them, let alone taken your pick of the hottest and had someone to kick out of bed in the morning. Like I said, something’s different.”

Brooke winced. Nina’s assessment of his love life, although brutal, was painfully accurate. His best friend of nearly a decade, there wasn’t much he could hide from him, and he looked up resignedly with the intent of telling him everything. This, to Nina’s surprise, he did. He started with stories, the little moments he’d had with his American lover - the time they’d spent together on tour, the times they’d had surprising each other at gigs, even the way Cracker’s face looked while he was telling jokes. There was a way his nose wrinkled upwards and his mouth hung open, almost barking with laughter, and it was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen.

In turn, Nina listened, and smiled. It wasn’t Brooke being happy again that made him react this way, but the fact he was opening up. He’d always been so closed off, emotionally speaking - arguably one of the main reasons he’d never had a successful relationship before - and now here he was. Thirty-three years old, and finally being able to admit to his best friend, without shame or hesitation, the feelings that someone new was causing him to feel. It was revelatory, really. When Brooke finally admitted why he hadn’t taken anyone home that night - because none of them were a certain dainty, dark-haired and eyed Jewish-American queen that he was slowly becoming hooked on - Nina held Brooke’s gaze and grinned, maintaining the connection as he spoke.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“…yes,” Brooke admitted, though not yet willing to say the words.

“You love him.”

It was factual, credible, and totally without judgement.

Brooke nodded.

#rpdr fanfiction #miz cracker #brooke lynn hytes #brooke x cracker #fluff #chronicles of the impossible #fandomfeministe #submission

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thewriterxo · 5 years

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Prologue to one of my stories “Keep Dreamin’”

The day started like any other. I was rushing around my kitchen with my homework dangling from my teeth and my pants falling off my hips due to the fact I hadn’t found my belt yet. The toast popped up from the toaster which startled me enough to spill the coffee in my hand all over my shirt. I complained about how hot the substance was against my skin and bounced around the room like an ape on crack. When my little sister Bella found me I had caught my balance and ripped the top from my body, throwing it towards the basement door where my mom would know it was dirty. Bella was shaking her head with a smirk, happily pouring herself a cup of coffee and not even flinching to help me.

“Great, all my shirts are dirty,” I complained and gripped the counter, hoping I could break it.

“Just take one of mine,” Bella told me. “You need to dress more girly anyways. Band shirts and oversized hoodies is tomboy attire.”

“Shut up,” I groaned and pushed her shoulder playfully while I ran for her bedroom.

Digging through the messy pile of clothes on her closet floor, I finally found a black shirt hiding in the many colorful ones. It was cropped and cut to a V at the top, and it was probably her only black shirt. I slipped into it and finally met her back in the kitchen where I was able to butter my toast and get a new cup of coffee.

“We’re going to be late again,” Bella rolled her eyes from where she stood by the front door.

“I’m coming!” I groaned and shoved both pieces of toast into my mouth so I could grab my coffee and backpack. We both fell into my moms old beat up Honda she had passed down to me.

Our mother worked as an assistant for a very successful business man and she made pretty decent pay as he was very old and she worked for him for ten years. She worked long hours and was usually gone on business trips with her boss as she needed to be with him most of the time. She made a home in a suburban neighborhood where she raised Bella and I mostly alone. My father passed away five years after my baby sister was born.

The memories I had with my father were always nice to look back on. He was my absolute best friend. I had a special bond with my father, one much different than I had with my mother. Him and I did so much together. He would always take me fishing or camping which made my love for the outdoors grow. He was always there for me at such a young age and I could never picture my life without my father. By the time I was seven he was ripped from my arms all together and I was heartbroken. Doctors had to put me on antidepressants at the age of eight because I became mute. I wouldn’t talk to anyone, not even my mother. But once I was a teen and attended junior high, I found a group of friends to break me out of my shell and show me how to have more fun. The first time I had ever been to a party was with them, and it showed me there was still things to enjoy in life.

When we had been invited to a high school party we were beyond ecstatic. Sapphire, Paige, Asia and I had planned our outfits days in advance, and made sure we looked our best for that party. I could remember walking into the crowded house, lights dim, music blasting, and smoke everywhere. The smell of alcohol would burn my nostrils and as my friends raced for the kitchen to get drinks, I wandered towards the smell of marijuana. It was so intoxicating to me that my nose dragged me into the living room where a couple of boys wearing beanies and hoodies sat dozing away on the couch. They passed around the blunt as I watched, intrigued as they inhaled and exhaled the smoke.

“You want a hit?” one boy with bloodshot eyes had asked me and I couldn’t deny his offer.

The first time I smoked weed was one of the best days that I never wanted to forget. For years I was miserable and completely unhappy what with my father gone and my mother rarely home. All I had was my sister but she couldn’t understand my pain for our father. She didn’t have the same relationship I shared with him.

After smoking that plant though I finally felt like I could smile. The feeling of my body going numb had me relaxing, all the tense muscles easing up. I danced with my friends all night and enjoyed myself. For once, I was completely in a trance of happiness and I loved it so much that everyday since that night, I’ve smoked. I wasn’t going to say I was ashamed of myself for being a pot head. Almost everyone in my school was smoking weed. Some more than others…but as long as I could be off the damn antidepressant pills then I was fine.

Arriving at school was where Bella and I parted ways. She would wander off with her friends while I’d head to the back of the school where I’d meet up with Paige and Asia.

The three of us have stayed close throughout high school, but Sapphire grew distant our freshmen year. She started to become friends with the more popular group of girls. Heather ran the group. Being the daughter of the mayor made her the most popular girl in school. If evil took a human form, it’d be those girls, much different than Sapphire, but as long as they didn’t bother me then what do I care. They’re your typical high school bullies.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Paige smiled, already stoned.

I took a seat with them on top of the rocks hidden behind trees and got passed the thing I craved the most. When I took in my first drag, I couldn’t help but feel much more relaxed.

“Look at you in a crop top,” Asia beamed with her pearly white teeth. “Borrowed your sisters clothing?”

I rolled my eyes and took another hit. The girls were like my sister, always harping on me because I rarely dressed like a girl. It didn’t matter to me what I wore. Who was I trying to impress? I wasn’t going to wake up earlier just to look cute.

Asia and Paige were the opposite. They made sure their hair looked nice, always applied makeup, and dressed cute.

“I spilled coffee on myself again,” I laughed. “All my clothes were dirty.”

I passed to Asia and rummaged through my backpack to make sure I had my homework. I then pulled out my usual dark green oversized jacket and flung it around myself. Paige shook her head and laughed.

“This history test has me stressed,” Paige groaned and indulged herself with a conversation about school work. Asia focused in on her ramble while I leaned back and enjoyed the numbness my body consumed.

Every time I got high I would think of my mother for a split second. She knew what I was doing and she didn’t like it. It took me forever to convince her this was better for me than popping pills to make myself happy. I’ve gotten so used to the antidepressants that they weren’t even working anymore. Weed was different, it would always work.

By the time I was in third period I was already falling asleep. I wasn’t able to smoke last night considering I ran out of my supply, so I got a shitty night of sleep. I tapped my pen frantically on top of my books as I watched my classmates pile in, trying desperately to keep my eyes open. I watched Sapphire walk in with her long blonde hair burned straight and her plaid mini skirt nearly riding up. She didn’t even pass me a glance and sat all the way across the room where she normally sat. It appalled me how a person could let so many years of friendship fall apart just to be popular. I knew Sapphire the longest out of my friends. In kindergarten she was the new girl and no one really wanted to be friends with the new kid. I was the only one who sat with her, who’d play with her, and who’d be her friend. Now look at us. She walks past as if she had no idea who I was. I guess that’s what happens when you let your ego get the better of you.

When school was finally finished I dropped Bella off at a friends house and headed downtown where my dealer lived. The apartment building was plain and blended in with the rest. Worn down and ready to collapse. I was always worried walking up the long flight of stairs as they squeaked and shook every time I walked on them.

James pulled open his door when I knocked and I stepped inside, making myself comfortable on his shitty couch. Prescription bottles covered his crusty coffee table as usual and there was a line of white dust already set up. After James snorted the line he sat next to me and cleared his scratchy throat.

“I ran out of weed,” I told the boy and he nodded.

“I know. Why else would you be here?”

James was dangerous. Tattoos covered nearly his entire body and his muscles told anyone that he was the wrong one to mess with. But I knew he had a soft spot for me. I was the only client he’d even allow in his home. His brother and him sold more than just weed, and considering they were the only dealers in town they made bank.

“The thing is, I don’t have the cash right now,” I told him and bit my bottom lip.

James looked my way and sighed heavily. “Kelsey,” he began. “You already owe me three-hundred-“

“I know, I know,” I stopped him. “I told you I’m going to get it to you. I just got to ask my mom for some cash. I haven’t seen her.”

“You’re telling me that you haven’t seen your mom in two months?”

I bit my lip even harder and moved awkwardly where I sat. The truth was it was always hard getting money from my mom. She knew what it was for and she’d always tell me to find my own way to get the cash.

“James please. You know I need it.”

James took the blunt he had from his ear and began to smoke it, not answering me and instead staring off into space. He would eventually cave and give me what I wanted, and I would tell him I’ll pay him back and be on my way. So I just sat there and waited.

“I’m giving you half than what you normally take,” he finally told me and I smiled, reaching over to kiss his cheek.

James passed me the blunt and I couldn’t deny it. I stared down at the prescription bottles filled with pills and wondered what the big deal was. If weed made me feel this good, then how good could those make me feel? I’ve never tried it and never really thought of it. But gazing at the pills now had my brain souring with questions.

“Think you could sell me something stronger?” I asked him, motioning towards the table.

“No way. I’m not going to let you get hooked on that shit. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh c’mon,” I scoffed. “Just to try?”

“You don’t just ‘try’ hard drugs. You get hooked. And considering the shit that goes on in your head, I already see you becoming a feen.”

“You’re no fun,” I groaned and leaned back comfortably.

When I became determined to do something, I’d find a way to do it. And I began to grow even more curious as to how these pills could make me feel.

#writer #story #author #drug #teen #fiction

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wroteasongabouther · 6 years

Text

For The Kids - A Harry Styles Imagine

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N

RATING: PG

WORD COUNT: 6k

A/N: first off i did write this in a bit of a different format so sorry if things seem weird or a little off, idk if i will always wirte ‘one shots’ like this but yeah... this was requested by an anon and i got this little idea :) hope you like it!

“I would’ve had I know where the father of my fucking kids was!”

“I was on a fucking plane here!” Harry yells back at her.

That’s when the cries of little Brinley echo throughout the house. She snap back into reality, stepping away from how close she had gotten to Harry and blink back the few tears that were threatening to spill over. Harry meets her gaze and scowls.

“I’ll get her,” he says but she’s quick to put her arm out and stop him.

“No, I will,” she mutters, “you haven’t been around the past while. You don’t know what she needs to calm down these days,”

The one when a divorce can’t get in the way of a Happy Christmas for the kids.

⏤

“Look guys, look how pretty it is here,” Y/N says, pulling up the car to the large cabin that Harry had rented for the family this Christmas.

When he mentioned Aspen here in America, she was a little surprised he didn’t want to drag the kids on a long flight to spend the holidays with his family after she was done with her own family on the East Coast. After the divorce last Summer, she was completely ready to split up the time with their kids for things like birthdays and Christmas - in this case the youngest baby’s birthday was on Christmas. But Harry had a different idea, and she wasn’t opposed to it, she could suck it all up and act like a family for the kids.

Being the worried parent she always was, she had called ahead about an hour or two ago to let the company know she and the kids were close to arriving. Harry had said he’d be there at the same time. But as she pulls up, she only notice a company car in the driveway. After putting the car in park and cutting the engine, she get out of the car at the same time her wild 6-year-old son pushes open his own door - hitting you while doing so.

“Sorry mommy,” he says while stepping out of the car. She reachs out for his arm while he nearly takes a slip on the wet snow.

“Just, be careful please, Jamie,” she says to her little boy, he nods and his mess of brown curls wiggle as he does so. The sight of his hair makes her smile a little, suppose he rubbed his head around in his car seat during his nap on the way here. “I’m going to grab your sister from the other door, hold my hand and please don’t run around,” she tells him, earning a short nod back.

Her first born, little James Robin Styles, was growing into his own these days. No longer was he holding onto his mommy’s leg while going to the store, now he was proudly getting his own ‘shopper in training’ cart and running away from her whenever he could. The amount of time-outs and yelling she’s had to do these past five months since the divorce makes her heart hurt a little. He’s acting out, knowing that his daddy isn’t around now because that’s his choice not because of another tour or promo for a movie. She shakes her head at the thoughts, sadness falling over her, and reach into the car to unbuckle her sweet baby daughter.

Well, Brinley Anne Styles, was turning one this Christmas but she would always be her baby. Brin’s face scrunches up as Y/N gently scoop her up from her carseat. She makes a whimpering protest as the cold hits her face, causing Y/N to grab her blanket and wrap her up in your arms. Then she shuts the car door and hope the front door is open before Y/N’s babies freeze out here. They’re both just so used to Sunny California.

“Welcome, Mrs Styles!” the head of the luxury cabin rental company grins ear to ear as Y/N walk through the large front door. She decides to not correct him, it was something she’s been dealing with for months now and was tired of it truthfully.

“Hello,” she smiles at the man. “Oof,” she mutters as Jamie pulls at her arm while talking a million miles an hour about all the cool stuff around the house.

“Pretty exciting, hey kiddo?” The man smiles, watching Jamie jump around onto the leather couch - which causes Y/N to want to shout at him but she refrains while in front of the owner. “Mr Styles is arriving later?” he asks, looking back at Y/N now.

“Uh, yeah, he is,” she replies, although she’s completely unaware of his whereabouts. It’s been that way for eight months now.

The owner goes on about the few things she needed to know about the place. Showing her how to work the crazy build-in touch screen system that worked the lights, speakers, and heating for the whole house. Brinley starts to fuss in her arms while he’s going through it all, so she puts her down and watch as Brin struggles but walks slowly to where her brother is playing with the TV remotes. Which causes Y/N to walk away from the owner and take the remotes away quickly.

“Sorry,” she says.

“No, it’s fine, I should go now anyways. You guys enjoy your stay and I’m always just a phone call away if you have any questions,” he says before letting himself out of the house.

There’s no time to take in the place before the kids are both whining about being hungry. Brinley starts to cry, Jamie yelling about his stomach hurting as the drama queen he’s always been. And all Y/N can do is step up and be the mother she’s grown into being. If someone was to tell her 8 years ago that she’d have two beautiful kids and be practically raising them on her own now, she’d never believe them. Y/N never saw herself as a mother, she thought maybe one day in her thirties maybe have one kid and struggle at being a mom - but then she met Harry and all of that changed.

Jamie was an accident, two years into a relationship and Y/N had a small bump growing fast. She worried so much but Harry was always there to tell her how amazing she was going to be and how he couldn’t wait to have a family with her. Fast forward 6 years and it all fell apart. All good things coming to an end and all that crap, right?

“Jamie, please, sweetie just one picture for mommy,” she says to him as he starts to run away from where his sister sat outside on the bench in the backyard. After eating a brunch, Y/N changed them both into some warmer clothes, snow pants and jackets that were purchased by their dad only months ago when the trip was planned, and now you were all outside.

“I want to go,” Jamie whines while pulling away from your hold.

“Fine,” she sighs and lets him go. He starts screeching while running through the snow filled backyard. Watching him go, she smiles at how happy be seems. Suppose an action shot of her little boy would have to do.

After some fun outside, Y/N’s little ones are tired right out. Jamie passes out on the couch, hand still in a bowl of cereal she had given him, while Brinley was a little more fussy to fall asleep. So she sets up a bed of pillows and fluffy blankets on the floor by the fireplace and her little green eyes fluttered close soon enough. Y/N stands in the middle of the open concept ‘living room/dining room/kitchen/foyer’ and look around for the first time. The place really is incredible. She just hoped her ex husband decided to show up soon to enjoy the holidays with his kids.

With the kids asleep Y/N utilizes the time to make up some dinner. Deciding some steamed veggies, rice and chicken were quick and easy enough for the first night on vacation. Just as she’s plating it up, Jamie wakes and of course he manages to step on his sister - which turns everything into an all out crying and yelling fit.

It’s not till after forcing the two to eat and getting them ready for bed, tucked all in and having night lights all around for Brinley that Y/N finally get to relax a little. What a long, tiring day, she thinks while walking over to the wine cellar and grabbing the first bottle of red you see. After pouring herself a glass, she pulls out her phone and tries calling Harry again - it goes straight to voicemail, so she dials her sister instead.

“Hey! How’s Aspen?” She asks.

“Not so great, but there is a wine cellar thank god,” she grunts while bringing the glass to her lips.

“What’s wrong? Jamie still acting up?”

“Yeah,” she sighs and shut her eyes, leaning back into the couch. “He’s just been all over the place, and I get he’s excited, but then he stepped on Brin and then neither of them wanted to eat dinner and then they were both scared to sleep somewhere new but over an hour later and I’m finally sitting in silence,”

“Wait, where’s Harry?”

“Beats me,” she mumbles, having another sip of wine.

“Aw, Y/N,”

“He said he’d be here this morning, I don’t know, maybe he got his flights mixed up,”

“Yeah, he’ll come eventually,” her sister says, trying to make Y/N feel better. It’s what she’s best at. Even though she was Y/N’s younger sister, she always had her back through these past 6 years. From babysitting Jamie in his younger days so Y/N and Harry could go on dates, to being in the delivery room for Brin’s birth when Harry couldn’t make it. And through the divorce too, she was just the best through it all.

“He hasn’t answered his phone all day,” Y/N mentions in a low voice, eyes zoned out on her glass of wine.

“Well, last I heard he was in Asia for some movie thing,” her sister says, “he’s probably just on a flight,”

“He could’ve called or texted or something,” she state bitterly.

“Yeah, you’re right he should have,” she sighs on the other end. “Well, tell me about the gifts you got the kids again,” she urges Y/N, changing the subject to something she knew her older sister was excited about. It would be Brin’s first real Christmas and her first birthday so this year was very special. Suppose that’s another reason Harry wanted this family vacation instead of splitting up time - knowing very well Y/N would get her exact birthday and he’d deal with whatever day he got. Custody in favour of a young mom, who earned less money and had a less busy work schedule, was exactly how the situation worked out.

The call with Y/N’s sister comes to an end and she finishes half a bottle of wine while watching whatever crap TV was on. She didn’t have the energy to look through the channels or to even get onto Netflix to continue whatever she was currently binge watching. She just sat there, overthinking too much and drinking wine while doing so.

Suddenly the front door opens, sounds of a large suitcase rolling in follows too. Y/N don’t care to look his way, instead she sits there and finish her glass of wine. Harry’s boots hit the wooden flooring as he making his way into the house.

“Oh, hey,” Harry’s voice carries through the room as he notices his ex wife.

“Hi,” she says back, her voice monotone now.

“The kids asleep?” he asks, leaving his suitcase to walk towards her.

“Well it is like eleven at night, so I sure hope they’re asleep,”

“Right,” Harry nods. “They like the place?” Harry asks, Y/N notices in the corner of her eye she can see him go a full spin to take in the house you’re staying at.

“Sure did,” she answers. “Where have you been?” She asks, looking to where he stands just a few feet away now. He looks good, as if she expects anything else. His hair’s short again, having to be cut for his movie role she assumes, while he has puffy bags under his lovely green eyes. He’s wearing a Gucci sweater, space themed - an older one Y/N once stole on several occasions when they were still together - and some black joggers too. She hasn’t seen him is nearly a month now, he’s been busy with work, suppose she missed him a little bit.

“My flight got delayed,” he answers.

“And you couldn’t answer a call because?”

“Why are you being so bitchy to me? I just got here, Y/N, can’t you hold back for a few more minutes, let me settle in maybe?” He huffs while throwing back his Gucci duffle bag on the couch. She rolls her eyes at him.

“Oh excuse me for being a little upset with you, Harry,” she says, voice slightly raised now.

“And here I thought this holiday could be civil between us,” he scoffs, his own eyes rolling too.

“And here I thought I could trust you again, and you go on to prove yet again that I freaking can’t,” she counters back. Wine makes Y/N loosen up a little bit, making her a bit more brave and letting that mouth of hers run sometimes too. Harry knew it as well, so when his eyes find the bottle and empty glass on the coffee table he just snorts.

“How much of that wine have you had? Cause you’re not making any bloody sense right now,” he says.

“Oh now you’re going to go on to call me a fucking drunk, that’s sweet coming from you,” she fumes back at him.

Y/N is being a proper bitch, she knows she is. But it’s times like this when she can’t help but fight back. Hers and Harrys divorce didn’t just happen for no good reason. There were issues, ones Y/N’s tipsy brain didn’t care while bringing them back up again. Trust, liquor, running away with answering his phone - those were just a few things that brought her to get ahold of her lawyer (who’s also Y/N’s father) and serve Harry with divorce papers while he was away on tour. A tour he barely invited her and the kids on, a tour that consisted on him drinking whisky on stage and blaming his piss poor behaviour on the fact his fans have grown up with his as well. Everything had changed, so she left him.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, go to fucking bed,” Harry says.

“I would’ve had I know where the father of my fucking kids was!”

“I was on a fucking plane here!” Harry yells back at her.

That’s when the cries of little Brinley echo throughout the house. She snaps back into reality, stepping away from how close she had gotten to Harry and blink back the few tears that were threatening to spill over. Harry meets her gaze and scowls.

“I’ll get her,” he says but she’s quick to put out her arm and stop him.

“No, I will,” she mutters, “you haven’t been around the past while. You don’t know what she needs to calm down these days,”

Brinley was tucked away in the same queen bed Y/N would be cuddled in with her. She still slept with her mom every night, despite her grandparents buying her a big girl bed just last month. As she walk into the bedroom, she flips on the lamp beside the bed and sees her little girl sitting up on her knees with wet red cheeks and hands grabbing out for her mommy.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, mommy’s got you,” she coos to Brinley while grabbing ahold of her little body, cradling her close to her chest while finding her blanket that had been tucked under the pillow. She grips onto the soft material and cried into Y/N’s chest. While rocking her little body, she paces the room slowly, trying to get her back to sleep. Next step was to hum once of her favourite songs.

“Sweet creature, sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home,” Y/N sings his lyrics softly, looking down at Brin’s fluttering eyes before continuing.

Brinley falls asleep in her arms only moments later, but she keeps holding her, staring down at her soft perfect skin and dark long lashes. She’s beautiful, a future heartbreaker that’s for sure. Just like her daddy. Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead before bending down to set her on the bed, bringing a blanket over her little body.

“Still falls asleep to my songs, huh?” Harry’s voice startles Y/N, causing her head to snap to where he stands by the door.

“Yeah, she does,” she whispers.

Harry steps forward to the bed, taking in his little baby girl. He hasn’t been around as much as he was for the first year of Jamie’s life. Harry’s been working, Y/N understood that, but with Jamie he took nearly two years off before getting back to his fast paced life. This year with the divorce and his tour ending and his new movie, he’s only seen the kids about once a month. So Y/N lets him reach down and kiss Brin before turning away to pull open a drawer and find her sleeping attire.

“M’sorry for not getting here this morning,” Harry says softly as he stands straight up again.

“It’s fine,” she mutters back, putting down her clothes on the bed.

“It’s not, this is suppose to be for the kids and I messed it up already,” he says. She meets his gaze and leans into the bed while thinking of how to respond. Because he was entirely right. This wasn’t time for you two to fight, it was supposed to be happy for Christmas for the kids.

She feels her head spin from the wine she drank. Which causes her to take a seat on the bed, carefully to not wake Brinley. Harry watches her intently, making sure she doesn’t fall over. Y/N gets this weird flashback, back in thier early years of being together when she’d have a bit too much to drink and he’d take care of her - cuddling her till she fell asleep.

“Speaking of,” Harry begins, chuckling a little, “Jamie needs a bit of a haircut, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, chuckling as well. “He just doesn’t, um, listening very much so I kinda feared bringing him in and him moving around while someone tries to cut off his beautiful curls,”

“His dad doesn’t like his hair cut either,” Harry mentions.

“But you got it cut again,” she states, “for a movie?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. She yawns then, moving a hand back to envelope Brin’s as she fights back sleep to keep talking to Harry. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” Harry yawns suddenly too, “suppose my jet lag is going to catch up sooner than later,”

“Asia? That’ll be hard,” she exclaims.

“I’ll get through it, always have,” he shrugs. Then he lets his hand fall down to brush her arm before he gives her a small smile, “sleep well, love,”

She don’t respond, just sitting there staring down at her hand in Brin’s and thinking of the days she’d be sharing a bed with Harry and not staying across the hallway. Y/N sighs and stands up to get changed before flipping off the lamp and getting into bed. Hopefully tomorrow was better than today.

⏤

Y/N woke up in a panic the next morning.

Waking to the sound of something banging. She doesn’t recall the last morning she hadn’t been woken up by Brin’s grabbing hands or Jamie shouting and crying. But she had a bloody heart attack when neither of those things happened. All of a sudden she hears Brinley screeching of excitement and Jamie laughing, the sounds bring a smile to her lips. Rolling over in bed once more, stretching out her limbs, Y/N takes another few moments to herself before getting ready to join them downstairs.

Harry hadn’t been able to sleep from the jet lag and time changes so he woke up earlier than anyone else. Jamie was up only moments after him, hearing his feet padding across the floor into the bathroom, Harry looks out his door to see his son reach up on his tippy toes and turn on the bathroom light before closing the door. That’s when Harry decides to wake up Brinley now too, walking across the hallway to open Y/N’s door as quietly as he can. Only with his movements, his daughter sits up in bed and rubs her eyes tiredly before seeing her daddy standing there.

As carefully as he can, not trying to wake his ex wife at all, he walks around the bed and lifts Brin into his arms. Kissing her a many times as he possibly can while whispering to her, “daddy missed you so much, you’re so big now huh Brinny Bunny?”

Once they get downstairs, Harry messes with the touch screen and manages to turn on the lights and open the curtains of the floor to ceiling windows that rounded the back of the house, looking out to a beautiful view of the mountains. He then finds a way to the music system, of course, asking Jamie what he wanted to listen to as he jumps on the couch - already a ball of energy since he first saw his dad upon getting out of the bathroom.

Harry’s got eggs in one pan and bacon in another, potato hash in the oven on low since he finished it first. Jamie decided he wants to help with toast, while Brinley started to cry anytime Harry tried to put her down. That’s till she sees her mommy walking down the large staircase. Y/N’s wearing a lavender cable knit sweater that’s rolled up a few times at her wrists with a pair of black skin tight leggings, wool socks upon her feet too while her hair’s wavy while let down. As he watches her walk towards him, arms out for Brin, he realizes the sweater was once his - way back years and years ago.

“Whatcha making?” she asks, then she turns to little Brin and tickles her before speaking in a baby voice, “huh? What are you and daddy making for breakfast?”

“M’making toast!” Jamie cheers from behind her, causing Y/N to turn around and give him a smile as he tries to butter a piece of toast - not entirely too well of course.

“Way to go, buddy,” she smiles and walk over to give him a high five.

Y/N tries her best to help out Harry with breakfast before all four of them take a seat at the dinner table and enjoy the lovely meal. Jamie ate up everything and even suggested himself to go get changed for the day before either Y/N or Harry could tell him to. The day would be full of family activities, starting with some things up on the mountain. Harry helped Jamie every step of the way, and Jamie stayed glued to his dad’s hip the whole time too. While Y/N would happily stay back and hold Brinley while Harry explained to Jamie how to hold onto the tubes properly.

After time at the mountain, Harry buys everyone a hot chocolate and then it’s time to head back to the cabin. Here Y/N is thinking that the day’s going to go by completely fine, greta even, but she’s sadly mistaken. She’s helping Brinley put one last candy on her gingerbread house when Jamie turns to Harry with his hand in a fist.

“Knuckles,” Jamie grins, holding his fist out for Harry to pound his into.

Harry furrows his brows but does it, “when did this become a thing?” he asks.

“Mommy’s new friend showed me, he says it’s cooler than a high five,” Jamie explains innocently, but little does the little boy know that he just started another fight between his parents.

Harry turns to Y/N with his brows wound tight, eyes narrowed at the thought of her seeing someone new. And not only that, but bringing whatever asshat around his kids too. He doesn’t smile for the photo Y/N wants of him and the kids with their gingerbread houses, and he doesn’t say a word to her while they put the kids to bed. It’s not till they have wrapping paper and the large amount of presents around the living room that Harry decides to start the fight.

“Who’s the new guy then?” Harry asks.

Y/N sighs, ripping off a piece of tape and securing it to the wrapping paper on the new Baby Alive you had bought for Brin. “He’s just a friend,” she mumbles while picking up the pen and turning the over the Christmas themed tag to write ‘To Brinley From Santa’.

“What’s the guys name?” he questions, not willing to give up easily of course.

“Harry, it’s not like that,” she says, already growing tired of this conversation.

“I just want to know what kind of guy you’re bringing around my damn kids, Y/N,” Harry says, his voice turned sharp with each word. Y/N tosses the pen to the ground and stand to bring the present over to the tree.

“His name is Brandon, he’s been working with my dad at the firm for almost 10 years, started out an intern or whatever. You might have even met him before, at one of my dad’s work things,” she explains, “if you even fucking went to any, can’t remember if you did now,” she adds with a bitter voice.

“Oh great, make me the fucking bad guy again, huh?”

“Would you fucking relax!” She shouts at him.

“No, cause you’re seeing some bloody bloke and bringing him around my fucking kids without my permission!” Harry matches her tone, anger boiling through his veins now.

“I don’t need your permission anymore!”

“They’re still my kids!”

“Then act like it!”

Harry doesn’t have a comeback. She had silenced him, lips formed a tight line and eyes narrowed while she lets out a deep breath and continues to wrap her babies gifts. Fighting with Harry wasn’t what this trip was about, even if it just kept happening, Christmas morning was mere hours away and these presents needed to be wrapped. Y/N knew how hard this was going to be when she agreed to this. But she just wanted the kids to have fun and feel loved, even though they came from broken home where their mom struggled daily and their dad was never really around.

Y/N picks up another doll set, laying it out on the wrapping paper before cutting it to the right size and tapping it up. Harry just sat there, lip between his fingers as he watches her. He knew he wasn’t around much this year. But this year has been the worst year of his life. His wife left him, got custody of the kids, and his drinking problem only got worse. He wanted this trip to make things even a little bit better. He missed this, minus the fighting, he just missed his family.

Then to hear that only five months later and Y/N was moving along fine without him. Finding some law firm fool to fill whatever void she had made when she left Harry, it hurts a lot more than he expected it would. He still loved her, so bloody much, and he always would. He got jealous, started a fight yet again, and now watched as tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Harry mutters, bringing both hands to his face.

“Neither do I, H,” she says, putting down the things in her hands and watching her ex husband who’s sitting on the couch. “But I’m trying,” she adds.

“I don’t even know how to do that, Y/N,” he says softly into his hands.

Y/N’s chest aches at the sight of Harry so upset. Through these months apart, she hasn’t really been able to sit and talk with Harry. He’s always been gone, doing something else for his career while she stayed in LA and raised the kids. Without really thinking of what she was doing, she crawls over and places herself between his legs, one arm on his knee while she tilts her head to try and meet his gaze. When he lifts his hands and looks down at her, she sees the glassy look of his green eyes.

“All you have to do was ask, Harry,” she says softly, “if you want to come and spend a weekend with them, just ask, if you have free time during a day and want to come have tea with Brin then do that. Don’t go hiding away, don’t ignore them, please,” she has silent tears falling down her face now. He looks down at her red eyes, wanting to brush away the tears that fall for him. But he can’t, she left him.

“I miss you,” Harry says.

Her bottom lip quivers while chills run through her body. Suddenly being so close to Harry doesn’t seem like a good idea. Y/N lets her head drop, breaking the heart aching gaze, and letting her hair fall into her face. She should move, stand up and get back to the presents, but then his hand brushes away her hair and cups her cheek, lifting her face up to meet his eyes once more.

“I miss you, Y/N,” Harry repeats himself, eyes still glassy with tears that threaten to fall as he stares into her eyes.

“I miss you too,” she says, voice cracking.

Those four words is all it takes for Harry’s heart to hammer in his chest while he effortlessly lifts her up onto the couch with him. Both of her hands find his face instantly while flashbacks flood her mind. So young and so deeply in love with each other. Before everything went the wrong way. She let’s out a shaky breath while Harry’s hands are slowly massaging her hips and lower back. Her eyes shut closed, head leaning closer inch by inch till she can feel his hot breath on her skin. She licks her lips, tasting her strawberry chapstick, before she lets out one last deep breath and touches her lips to his.

It’s like she’s lost hearing, her ears ringing as his lips move against hers for the first time in over five months. She can hear her pulse though, beating so fast while Harry’s is doing the exact same thing. He can’t believe this is happening. And he isn’t going to waste a moment of it, he thinks while dragging his hands up and down her body feeling every curve again. He kisses her with as much passion and love as he can.��

After a few moments, Y/N feels herself breaking in his touch. She lets out a deep breath through her nose before pulling away from his lips, touching her forehead to his. Lips forming a pout as she shuts her eyes tight, tears falling fast down her cheeks.

“Please, love, please,” Harry whispers, breath still hot against her skin. “Please don’t do this,” he continues.

Y/N remembers hearing these same words through a phone, a voicemail to be exact, five months ago. But then she was so angry, so upset that he had gotten that way. But now he’s here, sitting under her with his hands stroking her arms gently. Y/N’s hands are firm on his chest, feeling how it rises and falls like hers is.

“I did it though, H,” she breathes out.

Harry’s chest shakes then, while his arms pull her body firmly against his. His forehead slipping away to rest upon her shoulder, quiet sobs shaking through his body and breaking her heart each time. A overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret wash over Y/N. But she knows she has to think right in this moment. As much as she wants to kiss away his pain and spend the night wrapped up in him between the sheets. She slowly gets up from the couch, cupping his cheek in her hand as he slouches into her touch.

“H,” she says softly, causing his red eyes to meet hers. “We can’t just do this, there’s so many things that need to be fixed, so many problems that had to be solved,”

“Just give me another chance, please, I can fix this- I can fix us,” Harry says, lips quivering as he stares into her eyes.

“Lets- lets just talk about this after tomorrow,” she says, “tomorrow is about Jamie and Brin, not about us,”

Harry takes a moment, sniffling a few times as she rubs the pad of her thumb across the hint of stubble thats along his jaw. Y/N is thinking so much her head hurts. She means it, she wants to talk about them again but not on Christmas. If there was even a sliver of hope that Harry’s changed, she was willing to cling onto it in this moment and try to feel that same overwhelming love she once knew from him.

“You get some sleep, I can finish up the wrapping,” Harry says, his voice even again now.

She nods her head and decides to take up his offer, knowing very well this extra hour of sleep would really just mean an extra hour of thinking while staring up at the ceiling - and she’s completely right. She doesn’t fall asleep till about twenty minutes after she hears Harry get to his room. And then she isn’t surprised to wake up to Jamie and Brinley both jumping on her shouting about the presents Santa had left for them. Y/N has a grin on her face as she holds Jamie’s hand and holds Brin on her hip as they walk down the staircase, an aroma of coffee filling her nose as she sees Harry pouring two mugs for them both.

When his eyes reach hers, his lips curl up into a grin of his own. Thoughts of what had happened between them two last night still playing over and over in his brain - hers too. But right now, Christmas morning, was all for the kids. Jamie runs off towards the pile of presents, Brin kicking to be let go and follow after him. Y/N keeps up with them, knowing that Jamie will open every present under that tree regardless of the name on the tag.

“One at a time, baby,” she says as Jamie tries to grab two big boxes with his name on it.

“Mommy this one has your name,” Jamie says after opening a few more of his own, on the hunt to find more but instead he lifts up a small wrapped up box that he can hold in one hand. She gives him a smile, thanking him, before looking down at the tag to see Harry’s handwriting - ‘To Y/N love Harry’, she looks over to where he sits beside her on the couch.

He gives her a smile and nods to the box in her hands. Y/N feels her heart beat pick up pace as she slips a finger under the paper and rips it open. In her hands are a familiar navy blue velvet box, one that once hid in Harry’s sock drawer for weeks. Her eyes flicker over to Harry’s again, eyebrows pulled together as he just smiles. Finally she opens the box to reveal a silver ring with one simple diamond at the centre - her first promise ring.

“H,” she breathes out while taking it from the box.

“I made you a promise almost 7 years ago now, and somewhere along the way I messed it up. And you don’t have to give me another chance, but I’d be a bloody fool to not ask for it,” Harry says, eyes glued to hers. Y/N breaks the gaze to look back down at the ring, she hasn’t seen it since it was replaced with an engagement ring all those years ago. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she lifts it from the box and slips it onto her ring finger - on her right hand this time.

Harry doesn’t have time to say anything else as Brinley runs into his lap with her new Baby Alive in her hands, in her own jumble of words, Harry realizes that his little daughter wants her baby out of the box. Harry chuckles and tells her he’ll be right back with scissors to get out her new toy.

“Mommy can we have Brinley’s cake for breakfast?” Jamie asks, both his hands full of his many different toys.

Y/N chuckles at his suggestion and shakes her head, “sorry buddy, not going to happen,” she says.

“But it’s Brinley’s birthday!” Jamie protests.

“Hey, don’t start,” Harry’s voice echoes through the room as he approaches Jamie, his facial expression stern as he looks at his pouting little boy. “Mom said no, so no means no, right?”

“Right,” Jamie mutters, frowning as he walks over and continues to play with his toys.

Harry walks back into the kitchen to return the scissors, while Y/N smiles as Brinley brings her Baby Alive to her lap and yaps on about it. Y/N goes along, saying how pretty her baby is before Jamie starts playing with Brinley and her toys too. It’s such a heart warming sight before her, here on Christmas with her kids so happy. Her heart warms even more as she feels Harry thread his fingers though her hair, resting his hand on his right shoulder gently. Y/N smile grows while she reaching up and grabs his hand with hers.

Looking down, Harry sees the ring upon her right hand and his lips tug up into a soft smile. Although today was going to be amazing, celebrating his baby Brinny’s first birthday, he couldn’t wait to figure things out tomorrow with Y/N. He’s come to the realization over these past few months that he’d do anything to get her back.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #i wrote this in like a day and idk it just came to me lol #hope u guys liked it!m

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weregonnaneedmorewhiskey · 5 years

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Social Media:Guilty in the court of public opinion. The problem with cancel culture and its toxic nature and why I have a major problem with it

DISCLAIMER: If you read parts of this and not the whole thing and type a “rebuttal”. Just save your time and don’t do it because you don’t the smoke

Ok before I start, I would like to say this. 1. If you are an ignorant person who cannot accept the opinions and thought of others then don’t read this. 2. If you don’t take the time to look at facts, then don’t read this. I don't have time for you and 3. If you are to crucify people then you can just go. I just gave you some warnings already so why is your ass still here?! Ok I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I think social media can be great in terms of communicating with others and making friends online and of course sharing memes and funny videos because those are fantastic. Social media can be great for displaying people’s interests and talents. I myself have a photography blog alongside this one and some people have made a career from social media. However like all good things, it has its ugly side. In the last year or so, a trend has appeared on social media and that's cancel culture. I myself have never taken part in cancel culture myself as I thought it was toxic, immature and petty in most circumstances. I'm definite that cancel culture will come to an end (hopefully this year) but for now, we have to deal with it on our timelines. Anything that is either taken out of context, blow out of proportion or is a simple mistake will face the court of public opinion. The social justice warriors of the internet, the holier than thou folks will decide your fate.

First and for most, we all need to remember that we are all human. We make mistakes and we learn from it. I am not better than the next person as I have made my fuck ups at the end of the day but we all grow and evolve. I have several problems with cancel culture. If a person makes a mistake or has made a mistake in the past, that does not give you the right to ruin them. By doing so you are no better than the person who’s made a mistake and you are ruining a person’s life. Prime example, Kevin Hart and the Oscars. Kevin Hart was forced to step down as the host for this year's Oscars ceremony due to some homophobic tweets from 2009. Whilst I believe that homophobia is wrong, Kevin has moved on from a tweet that he made almost a decade ago in which that comments probably wouldn’t have taken as seriously. Kevin has grown and evolved but the court of public opinion has forced him to step down from the role due to the mass controversy. If you are searching through old tweets from 2009, you clearly have an agenda to ruin a person’s life because you are blinded by your hatred and do not want to see someone have success. This role was an amazing opportunity for Kevin but because of this toxic era of being overly PC, it was taken away because people wanted to hold his past against him and not acknowledge his evolution.

Now let’s get to how cancel culture is effecting the legal system. We’ve all heard the term “innocent until proven guilty”. In terms of the legal system, this is still true but for social media, this isn't the cause. Cancel culture has pronounced people to be guilty into proven innocent. People are no longer reading the facts, they are immediate to jump to conclusion, therefor inspiring this title “guilty in the court of public opinion” This is extremely dangerous. Social media should have no influence in the judicial system WHATSOEVER unless the person has committed the crime on Instagram Live (a man who raped someone on Instagram Live was recently found not guilty, just letting you know. What a fucked up world we’re living in huh?). When it comes to a case, people need to look at the evidence that has been presented and not from outside influences especially if it turns out shock horror that the person is actually innocent and then they’ve been sentenced to 25 to life.

This leads perfectly leads into my next point. So if you've been on Twitter in the last 24 hours then you would have seen that Chris Brown was detained in Paris for several hours on a rape complaint. Now before I go into this and break this down, if you are expecting me to drag Chris and call him a piece of shit and xyz, you can stop reading this now because I’m happy to let you know that I am a fan of Chris and have been since his debut. Now when this report broke out, I immediately went and read the whole report because we look at facts in this household. As soon as I saw that the “accuser” had done an interview with Closer Magazine France and went to The Shade Room, I immediately raised an eyebrow because why would you go to a tabloid before going to the police? This rang some serious bells and red flags and reminded of another incident involving Chris.

Back in 2016, a woman went to TMZ to say that Chris had held her at gunpoint. Again if you were held at gunpoint, then why are you going to a tabloid? Eventually LAPD found out that this was a false allegation and Chris was released from jail and the charges were dropped. Another thought that popped across my mind is that “I don’t think Chris is that stupid to do something like with the amount of negative press he's had in career over the last decade and I can’t see him doing something like especially since he has a daughter who is his life and who has helped him grow up significantly” . Bear in mind Chris has not made a public appearance since October when he attended Diddy’s Halloween party and his public appearance are few and far between now within the last few years with Royalty in his life. He mainly stay at home or is on the road. Paris fashion week is the first public appearance from him in months.

The accuser then went on to Instagram to say that she was not raped by Chris and he was not even present at the club that it was claimed that they met. Several eyewitnesses also went to social media to confirm that the allegations were false and that Chris never had an encounter with this woman and that he has never been alone at one point during this Paris trip. (PSA can we you know go to the fucking police to give statements to prove someone is innocent or guilty instead of going to social media because you are screwing with someone’s livelihood here!). Of course the court of public opinion came and gave their two cents on the situation and they pretty much proclaimed that Chris was guilty without looking at the facts.

Now if you are about to say “well look at 2009?” Yes Chris made a mistake which I don't agree with but we also need to remind/enlighten ourselves that the Rihanna incident was A FIGHT and both parties were wrong. She should have not hit him and he shouldn’t have retaliated. (side note: can we hold women accountable of when they are abusive towards men because there is a serious gender bias when it comes to abuse in relationships and we need to remind ourselves both genders can be abusive). He has also evolved from that and showed genuine remorse for the situation. The majority of social media were on Chris’ side in regards to this situation and he was eventually released from police custody when the French police found out the accusations was false and issued an apology to Chris and told him that he was free to leave the country. Chris’ lawyer has said that he intends to sue for defamation of character rightly so and Chris has also gone to social media to deny the allegation. Chris’ situation sparks several different issues. The first being in regards to social media. It is extremely dangerous and toxic to contribute to a false narrative without looking at the fact especially with a charge as serious as rape and even more the silence upon it being revealed that accusations were false just shows how DISGUSTING people can be since many people wanted this accusations to be true.

This shows the type of world we live in that people WANT a woman to be raped all the expense of not liking someone. I cannot associate myself with people who think like this when they are actual rapists such as R Kelly who is yet to be charged for his NUMEROUS crimes against underage black girls despite concrete evidence and a tape but yet we can arrest Chris on a false accusation and several eyewitness and hotel footage to show that he didn't commit this crime? Kevin Spacey and Matt Lauer are also rapists who careers have ended but have yet to be charged for the crime despite once again having concrete evidence and eyewitnesses. The president of the United States is also guilty of sexual assault and is on a recording bragging about his crimes like its a badge of honour. Brett Kavanaugh is walking a free man despite also having concrete evidence and eyewitness confirming his crime. Asia Argento, a victim of Harvey Weinstein was discovered to be guilty of sexual abuse after a young man came forward about how he was abused by Asia as a teenager. Harvey Weinstein is awaiting trial for his numerous crimes. Why can't the court of public opinion keep the same energy they had for a man who was innocent for those who are guilty. Secondly in light of the Me too movement, to accuse someone of a crime as serious as rape is extremely dangerous to their career and their character, a person’s life can be destroy at the expense of an opportunist. Additionally to lie about rape is DISGUSTING! This is what stops ACTUAL rape victims from coming forward because we have people who lie about it and the true victims aren't taken as seriously as a result. I would also think in light of the Me Too movement and Surviving R Kelly, people would pay more attention to the facts now before we “cancel” people. Personally I think that if you lie about a offence as serious as rape, you should go to jail and get sued because you are evil and karma will come to you. What if this your brother or your son or uncle or dad etc who was being accused of this crime? How would you feel if everyone thought they were guilty because of a mistake they made a teenager that has nothing to do with what they were currently accused of? Just think about that for a moment.

To end this I think Chris deserves an apology, one of them being from Eve after her comments on The Talk and that he should not only sue the women who lied but should sue media outlets such as TMZ and The Shade Room for defamation of character and let's remember this: innocent until proven guilty and look at the facts (in this day and age we really need to do this)

Update: Malibu Dollface made a video pretty much explaining everything I feel about cancel culture. Please watch and support him because he’s amazing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ah4ZfxTqT5s

#cancel culture #me too #chris brown #social media #blogger #blogpost

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myownsuperintendent · 6 years

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Fic: “The First Few Friends I Had”

Diana arrives in New York, ready to lead a new life. Part V in my 1960s AU, all installments of which can be found here on Ao3. Rated T for sexual references and drug use.

In the Oxford World Classics editions of Anthony Trollope's Palliser novels, there's an appendix dealing with the fact that Trollope didn't originally plan to write a series, so the timeline doesn't entirely make sense--it advises working on two simultaneous timelines. I have a similar problem to Trollope with this AU, in that I didn't originally plan it as a series and the Diana storyline is compressed into a shorter time than really makes sense. My apologies.

That said, this fic precedes the others in this series (with the exception of the beginning of "While She Was Somewhere Being Free," which runs on a parallel timeline). I would recommend reading at least "How to Expand Your Mind" and "I Can't Go Back There Anymore" first.

The title comes from "Bob Dylan's Dream" by Bob Dylan.

Tagging the usual suspects for reading this AU: @how-i-met-your-mulder and @emilysim :-D Also tagging @today-in-fic.

.....

Goodbye, Diana thought, when the bus finally started to move, heading out of Boston. Not that she had anyone to actually say goodbye to, in the here and now: her parents hadn’t come to see her off, and she wouldn’t have expected them to. It was more of a metaphorical thing. Goodbye, she thought, to her father and her mother, to the house in the Back Bay. Goodbye to decorous parties, to legs crossed in stockings. Goodbye to good taste, to avoiding vulgarity. Goodbye to the idea that it’s very noble, very worthwhile, to live your life as a subtle influence behind the scenes. Goodbye to meeting nice boys. Goodbye to meeting any males who are still referred to as boys.

She felt it, the repeated rhythm, goodbye goodbye goodbye, pulsing in her blood, as sure and steady as “Dancing in the Street” on the bus’s radio. It kept up until they got to New York, until they pulled in there, and then it changed subtly. Hello, it said. Hello hello hello.

.....

She stayed in a hotel for the first few nights, until she found the right ad in the Village Voice, two women looking for a third roommate, right near Washington Square Park. Must not be a square, the ad said, and Diana marked it carefully, wanting to be anything but a square. She was wearing jeans and a purple peasant blouse when she went to answer it. She could wear them every day now, if she wanted to.

The woman who answered the door at the apartment was a little younger than her, Diana thought; she had long blonde hair, tied back with a scarf. “Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” Diana said. “I came about your ad.”

“Oh, right,” the woman said. “Well, someone else already came, and she said she liked the room, but I didn’t really like her, so I said I’d let her see. If we like you better you can have it. Come on in.” She turned to let Diana in. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Diana,” she said. She didn’t give her last name. She was used to it holding too much meaning, affecting how she was treated; she didn’t always mind, but that was behind her now. She didn’t know if it would hold meaning for this woman, but you could never tell.

“I’m Starchild,” the other woman said.

“That’s cool,” Diana said. She’d grown up with plenty of girls with nicknames, but never a Starchild.

“Thanks, I picked it myself,” Starchild said, as if there were some question about that. “Because I’m a child of the stars.” She headed further into the apartment, through a living room with an old couch. “Here, I’ll show you the room.”

The room was small, wedged into a corner of the apartment, but it looked all right: not too dirty. “It’s nice,” Diana said.

“I’m in the one next to the kitchen,” Starchild said, jerking her head in what Diana presumed was that direction. “And Judith’s in the middle room. She’s kind of a pain sometimes.” Diana was beginning to wonder who Starchild did like. “But she’s all right, really,” she concluded. “Here, I can show you the kitchen too. Do you cook?”

“Not really,” Diana said. That was an understatement. There had never been a reason for her to cook, at home. She could make toast. Sandwiches.

“We take turns cooking a lot,” Starchild said. “But maybe you could do something else. More cleaning or something.”

“Maybe I could learn,” Diana said. Maybe she could learn here, in this kitchen Starchild was showing her, with peeling yellow paint and mismatched mugs.

“Yeah, it’s not that hard,” Starchild said. “I’m pretty good at cooking. I used to have to make dinner all the time, when my parents were at work. And I make great brownies. I wouldn’t make those for my parents, though.” She snorted, suddenly. “Although maybe it would do them some good. They could let loose for once.” She turned to Diana. “What about your parents? Are they the type to get stoned?”

“Um…no,” Diana said. “No, not in the slightest.” She tried to picture it; it was a funny image. Her mother scarfing down canapés. Her father trading his clipped speech, all facts and figures, for something slow and dreamy.

“Yeah, they never are,” Starchild said with a sigh. “That’s the whole problem with that generation. How about you? Are you the type? You saw where I put no squares, right? That’s because Judith tells me I smoke too much. Some people can’t live and let live.”

“I’m not opposed to it,” Diana said. She’d smoked her share of joints, holed up in dorm rooms, giggling with the other girls, trying to mask the scent. She’d sacrificed more than one bottle of perfume to the cause.

“Good,” Starchild said. “We could smoke now, if you want? I mean, that’s pretty much the whole apartment. I can show you the bathroom first.”

Diana looked at her. “Is this how you decide if you want to be roommates with people?”

Starchild shrugged. “Seems as good a way as any,” she said. “Then I can see what you’re really like. So far, I think you’re okay. Maybe a little prissy. But I could get a better idea, if we smoked. If you want to.”

Diana had breezed over a lot of the speech, her mind fixed on one sentence. “I’m not prissy,” she said.

“I only said a little,” Starchild said. “Anyway, if you’re not prissy, come look at the bathroom and then we can smoke.”

So Diana looked at the bathroom: blue fixtures and a door that didn’t quite latch (“We all know,” Starchild said, “so it doesn’t matter, if you respect it”). And then she settled onto the living room couch, next to Starchild, who was rolling a joint briskly, talking all the while. “So where are you from, anyway, Diana?” she asked.

“Boston,” Diana said.

“You go to college?” She finished rolling, lit the joint, took the first puff.

“Yeah,” Diana said. “I finished last year.”

“As in graduated?” Starchild asked. “Or dropped out?”

“Graduated,” Diana said. Maybe that was what made her prissy. Well, if it was, she didn’t care. She thought it was idiotic, not to finish what you’d started.

“I was at Oberlin,” Starchild said, passing Diana the joint, “but I dropped out. And now I’m here. And my family’s all the way in Cleveland, thank fuck.”

“You guys aren’t close?” Diana asked. She took a drag, blew out the smoke. “This is good stuff. Thanks.”

“What’s mine is yours,” said Starchild. “I’m all about sharing. And yeah, you could say we’re not close.” She laughed. “No, they’re not so bad, for who they are. But if you look in the dictionary under squares? You will see a picture of my parents. My dad’s a fucking accountant.” Diana made a sympathetic noise, which seemed to be called for. My dad’s a fucking shipping magnate, she thought about saying. But she didn’t, not then. That wasn’t the woman she wanted to be now.

She did say it later, though, when some time had gone by (she’d lost track of how much) and they were stretched out next to the couch, both of them buzzed. It seemed selfish, then, to hoard her life story, when Starchild had told her all about growing up in Cleveland, her father the accountant and her mother his secretary, her little brother who she had to watch, her thoughts about free love (she was in favor) and what the government was doing in South Asia (she was against), and even her real name, Susanne, which she confided in a loud whisper with a face like she was sucking a lemon. So Diana told her about growing up in Boston, about her own parents, about rounds of introductions to boys from Ivy League schools. “I’m sorry I called you prissy, Dee,” Starchild said; she was leaning against her by then, and calling her Dee, and it all seemed natural, nice. “Now I get why you’re like this. That must be hell on earth.”

It wasn’t, always. “Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

“But you’re here now,” said Starchild. “It’s so much better, when you’re by yourself. You’ll see.” And she would, she knew.

They lay there, on the floor, talking idly, until a tall girl came into the apartment. Judith, Diana presumed. She stared down at them with a peeved expression. “Honestly,” she said, at last, walking into her bedroom and slamming the door, and Starchild started to laugh and Diana did too, hard and long.

“The room’s yours if you want it, Dee,” Starchild finally said, wiping her eyes.

“Thanks,” Diana said. “I do.”

She moved her stuff in the next day. She stowed her matching suitcases in the closet, way at the back, where she couldn’t see them anymore.

.....

The protest wasn’t going according to plan. It had started out well; Diana and Starchild had come together, with signs they’d made. They did that together a lot, now. Girls say yes to men who say no, they’d written. And there had been a lot of people there, at least at first. But then it had started to rain, and there had been cops trying to get people to move along, and a minor scuffle had broken out—Diana was too far back to see exactly what was going on—and then it had started to really rain, and between the rain and the fighting, people were starting to disperse pretty quickly. People were pushing past, and before she knew what was happening she couldn’t see Starchild anymore.

She wasn’t really worried about her, but she decided she should go. There wasn’t any point in getting caught up in the chaos, or in getting drenched. She lifted her sign over her head, hoping to get at least a little protection from the rain, and shoved her way through the crowd. She wasn’t getting anywhere, even when she used her elbows.

“Hey, let her through, let her through,” she heard someone say. She turned to look for the source of the voice. A guy, smiling at her. Significantly taller than her. She liked guys who were significantly taller than her, and not just because it made a difference when trying to get through this kind of crowd. She shoved past a few more people—they seemed to part more easily, now that this guy was next to her—and made her way to the corner, where it was less crazy, where she could at least stand under the overhang of a building for a minute or two.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling back at the guy; he was still there, hovering between talking to her and turning back to the protest. “It’s hard to get out of these things.”

He nodded. “The weather doesn’t help,” he said. “Here, you want my sign too? I don’t really care if it gets wet. It’s not very artistic.” He held the cardboard, already slightly damp, out to her. Stop the war, feed the poor, it said, in plain back letters.

She laughed. “Mine’s not that artistic either,” she said, holding it out. “But thanks.”

“No, yours is good,” he said. There wasn’t anything suggestive about the way he said it. Unusual. Surprising.

“Are you going back?” she asked, nodding towards what was left of the protest.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, looking too. Most of the people were streaming towards them by now, away from the scene. “Or I don’t know. Looks like it’s over. I always seem to miss the real action.” Said without bitterness, with something more like wistfulness. He smiled at her again.

There was a coffeeshop halfway down the block. “Do you want to get out of the rain?” she asked him. “We could go in there.” She wanted him to say yes. Wanted him to keep smiling at her.

He did say yes.

They huddled into a booth, trying to shake off the rain, and traded names. His was Fox Mulder. They ordered coffees while they looked at the menu. “Coffee’s my vice,” she told him. “Well, one of several.” She watched him to see how he’d take that.

“We’ve all got to have at least one, right?” he said. A good answer.

“Where are you from?” she asked him.

“An island off Massachusetts,” he said. “Martha’s Vineyard. Do you know it?”

“I do,” Diana said. “I’m from Boston, actually.”

“Not so far apart, then,” he said. “What brought you here?”

She had her story crafted by now—who she was, who she was going to be—with minor adjustments depending on the person. He could get the straightforward version, she decided. “Well, not to speak ill of Boston,” she said, “but there’s more action here. I wanted to get away from the life I was living before and be somewhere I could actually make a difference. I think that’s everyone’s job, nowadays.” She took a sip of her coffee.

He nodded. “That’s a good way of thinking,” he said. “You shouldn’t…I mean, I don’t think anyone can be justified in just thinking about themselves. Especially not now.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And I wanted to meet other people who thought that way. It’s not like that at home, let me tell you. Not in my family.” She hadn’t been planning on saying that. But there was something about him that made her want to tell him.

“Mine either,” he said. “It’s all about making the most money, whatever you have to do to get there. They’re not very happy with me, to put it mildly.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “My mother keeps telling me I’m vulgar.”

“Mine says I’m uncouth.”

“She doesn’t even think I should have a job. I should be finding a nice man to take care of me.”

“Now, I, on the other hand, should have a job. And odd jobs don’t count.” He smiled at her again; she smiled back, getting into the rhythm of their verbal game.

“I didn’t even bring pearls with me. Or gloves. The horror!”

“With me, it’s the haircut that’s the problem.” His hair hung just past his shoulders. Some guys looked silly that way, she thought. He didn’t.

“I cooked with my roommates last night,” she said, although that wasn’t strictly true, since Starchild had said she was more of a hindrance than a help and put her on dishwashing duty. “I wouldn’t want to tell my mother that. I shouldn’t even be in the kitchen. That’s why we have the help, darling,” she added. She could sound a lot like her mother if she wanted to, although she usually didn’t. Then she wondered if she’d gone too far. Most of the people she met were running from their families. But she knew that it was different, when the family was like hers.

But he was going on, smoothly; she wondered if he’d fully taken in what she’d said. “They keep saying I’m acting like a lowlife. Like I don’t remember the sort of family I come from.”

She laughed; she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t the only one, then. “You too, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and he laughed too, openly, joyfully. “Me too.”

They compared notes further over their sandwiches. He offered to pay for hers; she said he didn’t have to. But before they left she took a pen and carefully wrote her name and phone number on his sign, on a corner that hadn’t gotten wet.

.....

“Hey,” Fox asked her one afternoon, “do you want to come to a party tomorrow night?”

“A party?” Diana asked. She was lying, the sheet half over her, on his mattress. He didn’t have a real bed, which was something she tried to tell herself was charmingly novel and secretly thought was irritating. But she didn’t mind, not really, because of the way he looked at her when they were lying there, the way he said her name, the way he touched her slowly and attentively. The way he actually paid attention to what it was doing for her. He was different, that was what it was. “What kind of party?”

“Some of my friends are having people over,” he said. “These three guys I’m close with. I’d…well, I thought it would be cool, if you could all meet each other.” He held her gaze. This meant something, he was telling her, if not in so many words, and she’d be lying if she pretended it didn’t send a flutter through her.

She’d also be lying if she pretended she wanted to spend an evening talking to three guys, when she could be spending it with just him. But if he was going, she wanted to go too. What she needed was a buffer. “That sounds good,” she said, reaching out to touch him. “What kind of guys are they? Would any of them be good for Starchild? My roommate,” she added.

He looked thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he said. “They’re all great guys, don’t get me wrong. But they’re kind of freaks.”

“Starchild’s kind of a freak,” Diana said. “Maybe I’ll bring her too. Then we can all meet each other.”

“That would be good,” he said, and he kissed her long and slow.

Starchild wasn’t so sure about the whole endeavor. “So you’ve never met these guys yourself?” she asked Diana as they set out the next evening.

“That’s what I said.”

“And you don’t know anything about them?”

“I know some things,” Diana said. “There are three of them. And they’re good friends of Fox’s. And they’re kind of freaks, apparently.”

Starchild looked thoughtful. “Freaks in what way?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not very helpful, Dee,” Starchild told her. “But freaks could be good, I guess. I’ll keep an open mind.”

“That’s big of you,” Diana said. Starchild just laughed at that, and they kept walking.

The apartment, when they reached it, was small, smoky, crowded, and messy. A lot of objects were strewn around the living room, seemingly in no particular pattern. Books. Old newspapers and magazines. Battered posters. Loose rolls of film. An old fish tank full of candy. Diana looked around for Fox, but she didn’t see him; maybe he wasn’t here yet. Deciding to sit down while she waited, she started to move some issues of Newsweek off a chair. “Hey,” said a voice behind her. “Don’t do that. You’ll mess the place up.”

She turned around to face the speaker, a blond guy with glasses. “Excuse me?”

“Those are where they’re supposed to be,” he said. “If you put them somewhere else we won’t be able to find them.”

“Well, where am I supposed to sit, then?” she asked.

He shrugged. “There’s space on the couch, I think,” he said. “Anyway, I don’t even know you.” She was about to respond to that when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, there you are,” said Fox. He looked happy to see her, at least; he was smiling as he leaned in to kiss her. “Sorry I missed you at first. Let me introduce the two of you. Diana, this is my friend Langly. He lives here. Langly, this is Diana.” He didn’t put a name to what she was. They hadn’t discussed it yet. But his arm was around her waist, and she knew that tonight meant something new.

Langly regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and mild hostility. “Hey,” he said. “Good to meet you. Don’t move that stuff off the chair.”

“I won’t,” she said. “Good to meet you too.”

“I want you to meet the other guys too,” Mulder said. “Langly, where are Byers and Frohike?”

“They’re around,” Langly said. “Hey, Frohike!” This last was addressed to a short guy who was passing by. “Mulder wants you to meet this chick.”

“Okay,” the guy said. “Hi there.” The look he gave her was slightly lascivious. Maybe more than slightly. Fox noticed it too, she thought; he tightened his arm around her.

“Frohike, this is Diana,” he said. “Diana, this is Frohike. He also lives here.”

“Yes, I do,” said Frohike. “And you’re very welcome. Make yourself at home.”

“That’s nice of you,” she said. “Langly was just telling me not to move stuff off the chairs.”

“Oh, yeah, well, you shouldn’t do that,” Frohike said. “We’re keeping it there. But otherwise, make yourself at home. Have you guys had anything to drink yet?”

“In a minute,” Fox said quickly. “I want Diana to meet Byers. Where is he?”

“No idea,” said Frohike. “He was around earlier. Let’s go look for him.”

They set off through the apartment. “Did your roommate come?” Fox asked her, as they pushed past a crowd of people who were earnestly discussing Bob Dylan.

“Yeah, she did,” Diana said, looking around. “I don’t know where she went, though.”

“He’s probably in his room,” Frohike said, stopping at a closed door. “Let’s look.” He pushed the door open without preamble.

Starchild was lying back on the bed, her limbs entangled with those of a brown-haired guy in a suit. “Yeah, I picked it myself,” she was saying, “because I’m a child of the stars. Oh, hey, Dee!” She sat up. “This is Byers.”

“I figured,” Dee said.

“This is my roommate, Dee,” Starchild told the guy. “She came here to meet you and your friends.”

“All right,” Byers said. “Hi, Dee. It’s nice to meet you.” Neither of the two made any move to get off the bed or to disentangle themselves, and Diana knew a hint when she saw one.

“Hey,” she said to Fox, looping her fingers through his. “Let’s get that drink.”

Starchild was disinclined to come home with Diana at the end of the night (when Diana tapped on the bedroom door again, cautiously, she appeared in a bathrobe that didn’t really fit her and wasn’t belted anyway and told Diana to go away). It was fine, though. Fox said he’d walk her home. It was a cool night, and they held hands again as they walked. “Did you have a good time?” he asked her.

“I did,” she said. “It was fun. I think I ticked off Langly, though.” She smiled, to show him she was teasing. “By moving that stuff.”

“Ah, to hell with Langly,” he said, smiling back.

“I thought you wanted us all to be friends, though,” she said. “It looks like Starchild did a better job of that than I did.”

He pulled her closer as they walked; his voice was low. “I wouldn’t want you to be that kind of friends with them,” he said. “Or with any other guy.”

“Yeah?” she asked him. They were almost at her place now. She slowed her steps, deliberately.

“Yeah,” he said. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you, Diana?”

She turned to look at him. “I wouldn’t mind you telling me.”

That seemed to make him nervous, but she waited; she didn’t want to play games, now. “Well, you know why I wanted you all to meet tonight,” he said. “Because you’re important to me. You’re…you mean a lot to me, Diana. You’re smart and you’re damn sexy and you’re not afraid to say what you think. And I really like you.” He paused, seemingly at loss for words.

She didn’t want him to have to struggle. She stretched up and kissed him. “I really like you too,” she said. “And I don’t want there to be anyone else. Either.”

“Good,” he said, and he kissed her back. They walked again, the last few blocks to her place, and she asked him to come upstairs and stay. He did.

.....

In December, Judith moved out. “By the way, the two of you really smoke too much,” she told Diana and Starchild upon her departure.

“Yeah, no shit,” Diana said, and Starchild laughed.

Diana had raised the topic of putting out an ad for another roommate, but Starchild told her not to bother. “I’ve been talking to my friend Melissa,” she said. “She’s at Barnard now, but she doesn’t want to go back next semester. She said she’d be interested in the room. If that’s good with you.”

“Sure,” Diana said. “Anyone’s better than Judith, anyway.”

“You got that right,” Starchild said.

She didn’t think that much about it, until one day she came home and saw the door to the middle bedroom open. A girl was standing by the closet, stretching up to try to reach the shelf. She turned around when Diana walked by. “Hi!” she said. “You must be Dee. I’m Melissa.”

“Oh, hi,” Diana said. “Yeah, that’s me. Do you want help getting your stuff up there?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Melissa said. She smiled at Diana. “I just wanted to put this suitcase up. And these hats.” She stepped aside as Diana lifted the items onto the shelf. “But I’m too short.”

“The shelves are really high here,” Diana said. “It’s a building for giants, I guess.”

“You’re lucky you can reach,” Melissa said. “Do you want to sit down? I’m just unpacking.” She gestured towards her as yet unmade bed.

“Sure,” Diana said. She took a seat.

“Starchild’s told me about you,” Melissa continued. “She says you’re really cool.”

“Yeah? That’s flattering,” Diana said. “She’s told me about you too. You were going to Barnard?”

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “But I’m just sick of it there. I want to be out in the world, you know? But my parents are freaking out.” She shook her head. “If we get any calls from an irate naval captain, I’d advise you to hang up right away.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Diana said. “I think it’s always like that at first, though. They might cool down after a while.” Her own parents had stopped with their frosty letters. They said they’d talk to her when she came to her senses. Which she imagined would be never, in their conception of things.

“I doubt it,” Melissa said cheerfully. “But I don’t care. I’m just so happy to be here!” She flung herself back on the bed dramatically, flopping down next to Diana and grinning at her. “No curfews. No cleaning up after other people. No keeping my mouth shut about the war.”

“Yeah, we don’t do much of that here,” Diana said. She couldn’t help grinning back; Melissa’s smile was infectious. “I know how you feel. It’s a real trip, being on your own for the first time.”

“Well, I’m not really on my own,” Melissa said. “I have people, right? Starchild…and I hope we can be friends too. You and I.”

“Yeah,” Diana said. “Me too.” It felt right to say it.

“That’s what I’m most excited about, I think,” Melissa said. “Being with people who think the same way I do. Not being in a place where everyone wants me to pretend.” She smiled again. Her face was open, and she made Diana want to be that open too. Like it was that easy. “What about you?” she asked. “How long have you been here?”

“A year and a half, now,” Diana said.

“Neat,” Melissa said. “How does that feel?”

She took a moment to think about it. “Sometimes I feel like it’s all still new,” Diana said. “And sometimes…I feel like I’ve never been anywhere else.”

Melissa nodded soberly. “I get that,” she said. “Well, I hope I’ll feel like that too. After a while.” She got off the bed, after a moment, and went back to her unpacking. “Should I keep this?” she asked. She was holding up a dress, light blue with a pleated skirt. “I thought I’d pack everything, you know. Easier to just get it all out of the room in one go. But I’ve always hated this dress.”

“Then don’t keep it,” Diana said.

Melissa was still studying it. “My mom made it,” she explained. “My sister has almost the same one. Hers is green. And I know she meant well, but…you know, we’re not kids anymore. It’s always things like that.” She looked at the dress for a moment more and then tossed it down abruptly. “I’m getting rid of it.”

“You’re getting rid of what?” Starchild had appeared in the doorway of the room.

“This dress,” Melissa explained, nudging it with her foot. “I hate it.”

Starchild picked it up and looked at it critically. “It’s square as hell,” she said. “But don’t get rid of it. Maybe we could make something out of it. If we cut off the sleeves and…” She squinted, her head tilted to the side. “Yeah, I’m seeing it,” she said. “Don’t get rid of it. We’ll mess with it tonight.” Satisfied, she put the dress down again and hugged Melissa. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Melissa said, hugging her back. “I think I’m going to love it. Dee and I have just been talking.”

“Groovy,” Starchild said. “Well, let’s have dinner. And then I’ll make brownies and we can have those and work on the dress.”

“You can sew stoned?” Dee asked.

“I can sew better stoned,” Starchild said.

They sat around the living room that night, nibbling on Starchild’s brownies while she took apart Melissa’s dress and reinvented it as a sort of tunic. Melissa curled up in the corner of the couch, talking about her family and the way she felt she didn’t fit, not anymore. Diana stretched out, her legs extended across the floor, her back against the couch, and sympathized; she told Melissa about her own family, the story she gave to only a few. Starchild frowned, ripped the belt off the dress, and said that families were a hell of a trip, whichever way you looked at it.

“I mean, they’re these people,” she said. “Who you just happen to have in your life. You don’t even get to pick them!” She fell into a reverie, then, and Diana nudged her with her foot to wake her up. “And then they’re always around,” she continued. “They get handed to you. On the very first day. When you can’t even talk yet, so you can’t even say anything about it. And then you just have to have them around forever!” She shook her head. “That’s why I don’t think we should add any more of that to our lives,” she said. “Relationships like that, I mean. Where you have to have people around forever and you don’t get to choose.”

“Is that why you broke up with Byers?” Diana asked.

“Yes!” Starchild said, pointing at Diana with her sewing needle; she dodged to avoid getting poked in the face. “He does not understand any of this. He thinks that just because I slept with him a bunch of times, I should only sleep with him. Forever and ever. Why would you want to do that to yourself?” She shook her head again and went back to the dress.

“Do you know about this?” Diana asked Melissa. “The Byers thing?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it,” Melissa said, grinning. “I haven’t met him, though. How about you, Dee? Are you with anyone?”

“Yeah,” Diana said. “His name’s Fox.” But she didn’t say anything more. It didn’t seem right, for this place and time. “You said you have a sister?” she asked instead. “That must be nice.”

“It is,” Melissa said. “We’re really different, most of the time. But I do love her.” She talked on, her voice slow and dreamy as it came into Diana’s ears, until Starchild held up the dress and pronounced it done.

Melissa tried it on, turning around for their inspection. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said. Her face was flushed—it was always warm in the apartment—and her hair was loose, and she smiled as she spun, around and around.

.....

It was Starchild’s idea to have people over. “We could invite the guys,” she said—she was back together with Byers, allegedly having explained her free love views to him. “Fox, if you want, Dee.” And Diana said sure, and Melissa liked the idea too, and they added more friends to their list. And now they were ready, waiting for people to show up. Starchild had made most of the food, but Melissa had helped. Diana had cleaned up the living room.

Byers, Langly, and Frohike showed up first, and within minutes Starchild and Byers had disappeared. “Great,” Diana said to Melissa, next to her on the couch. “She’ll be dead to us for the rest of the evening.” Melissa laughed, throwing her head back, and they went on talking with the guys. Fox showed up soon too, and Diana made room for him on the couch, on the other side of her, close. She leaned against him as they talked. She’d never had something this easy.

And it was easy, the rest of the night, the apartment a haze of smoke, a buzz of talk and music. Diana looked around at them all, as they argued and debated and declaimed. Starchild and Byers, who’d eventually emerged again, sitting together on the floor, arms entwined. Langly and Frohike, eating chips and arguing about the best tactics for demonstrations. Melissa smiling, her face in the light. Fox warm next to her, light in his eyes and animation in his voice. They were all there, then.

#my fic #1960s au #diana fowley #the x files

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