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Final Girl (Part 7)

Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated chapters 1 - 9)

a/n me basically throwing the scream timeline out the window so i can have all the cute little scenes i want, let’s just pretend september/october are LONG months lol, also sorry this took so long!!

the demon known as finals season is officially here so i’m going to be slower 😭 but...after it ends i will have a little over a month to myself! and it’ll be christmas time !

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: Stu decides to dedicate some time to getting back into Y/n’s good graces. Or, when Stu finally learns that there’s a reason Y/n doesn’t have her driver’s license and Y/n realizes that there’s no point in resisting that little bubble Stu’s always pulling her towards.

----

The textbook flops awkwardly against my forearm as I let one side go in order to extend my arm. I pick up an apple from the bowl on the kitchen island and move to turn instinctually.

I move the apple towards my mouth, never once looking away from my history book until a quick tug yanks the book forward. I scramble, squeezing the hard cover instinctually.

My head snaps up and I see my mom, one hand on her hip and the other on my book. “Mom!”

“Come up for air,” her voice is scolding, “Your face has been glued in that textbook for days.”

“It’s not healthy.” The voice is surprising enough for me to let go of the book. My arm falls to my side and my mom just barely grabs it in time. I blink, turning to see the last person I’d expect to see in my kitchen.

It’s Stu. I’m mad at him, some rational part of my mind knows better than to forgive him when he hasn’t so much as apologized. When he’s been off sulking and switching up between different levels of mean to overly, practically violent levels of affection, like everything’s all good and I’m a bitch for prolonging a stupid fight. And now he’s in my kitchen, standing near my mom like this is the most natural place for him to be.

I squeeze the apple between my hands. “What are you--why are you--”

“He’s checking in on you because you’re worrying your friends.” Oh. My. God. My lips part but I have nothing to say, not with that what? this is totally innocent look he’s giving me. His eyes wide and soft. “They’ve barely seen you.”

A tiny pinch of guilt settles in my chest, because while I might not currently be at my most social, there is someone that’s seen a lot of me. Billy. I don’t know if it’s because of what happened with the phone call or something else, but Billy’s been around a lot more. It feels like he understands better than others because he’s seen it.

He also has a habit of coming in through my window and spending the night to avoid his dad. At least, that’s why I think he comes. He’s only ever hinted at it in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t want to elaborate, so I don’t ask. It doesn’t bother me to have him come and go as he pleases. I wasn’t wrong when I said he was like a cat.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around,” Stu begins, “Makes me think about who you’re spending all your time with.”

Stu’s expression barely shifts, just the slight raise of his eyebrows. There’s no way he doesn’t know that Billy’s been around. “Just school stuff.”

“Really? All that time--”

“Some of us actually need to study.” God, I know Stu and I aren’t in the best place, but is he really trying to tell my mom on me? There’s a knowing glimmer behind his eye that makes me want to squirm. “So you’re here to check up on me?”

My mom lets out a sigh and shoots me a look. “Be nice.”

Stu’s smugness feels physical. He’s holding what he knows over my head, enjoying being a ticking time bomb. “Oh, she’s always nice.” His expression soften slightly, a silent cease fire.

I can finally breath again. “Thank you.” Then I remember my mom’s in the kitchen so I tack on, “For checking in, but I’m fine, just behind.”

At that, my mom places the text book on the kitchen table. “You’re young, you should go out every once in awhile, see your friends, eat an actual meal...” When all I do is give her a sarcastic look, my mom goes for the kill shot, “Practice for that upcoming driver’s test.”

Okay, she has a point. Driving practice is something that we’ve both put off. Me, because I hate feeling like I’m endangering lives, and my mom because she hates having her life endangered. “You don’t want to do that anymore than I do.”

“You need to practice because if you fail another one, you’re going to have to wait six months.”

Six months of not touching a car doesn’t sound terrible. I mean, it’s pretty embarrassing, but it also feels like a sacrifice I’m making for public safety. “Six more months of not getting arrested for vehicular manslaughter doesn’t sound like a loss.”

“Something little miss perfect isn’t good at?” Stu’s grin in his voice is loud and he’s clearly fighting the urge to laugh.

“It’s not,” I sigh, turning the apple over in my hand, “It’s not that bad.”

My mom raises an eyebrow, “Well--”

“Mom!”

“You can’t park,” she sighs defensively, “You knocked over the recycling can last time and kept going.”

“Because I thought it was the curb, it’s not a big deal to hit the curb.”

Stu laughs, the sound loud and so amused I have to glare. “Oh, I need to get you out on the road.”

“No.”

My mom places a hand on her hip, “Nice.”

I sigh, wondering why I even came out of my room in the first place. That was me being nice. “What’s nicer than sparing someone from a potential car accident?”

“I’ll risk it,” Stu hums a little too happily, ignoring my glare. “Passed my driver’s test the first time.” Yeah, wouldn’t be surprised if that’s because his family’s loaded and because they knew leaving him alone would get a lot easier if he could drive himself places. “An hour with me, and you’ll be good to go.”

“I have to st--”

“Do you know how embarrassing it’ll be to be the only Princeton student that can’t drive?”

It’s a fair point, which means I’ll have to fight my mom’s logic with mom logic. “You’re not seriously trying to get Stu to take me driving right now.” Please remember he’s a boy; please remember your hatred of boys.

She raises an eyebrow at me and then at him, likely doing that weird calculation thing of hers. “He offered.”

Oh this is a total con. I don’t know how or what I missed while he was here and I was upstairs, but it must have been something if this is what’s happening. The feeling that I’m being played in some way I don’t really get sneaks up on me. I eye Stu skeptically, who has yet to drop his I’ve done nothing wrong expression.

“He was joking,” my words are not-so-subtly pointed, an attempt to force Stu to take the out.

The more I grind my heels into the sand, the more Stu will want it. “I’m never joking when it comes to you.”

“I think it’d be good for you--get some air, time away from those textbooks.”

How has his blatant flirting not scared my mom off yet? Maybe I can convince her that he broke up with Tatum so that she’ll shut this down. “You want to send me off with some guy you’ve barely spoken to?”

Stu lets out an indignant noise. “Are you saying I might have bad intentions?”

The inflection of his voice is so comical and him that a sense of longing rises in my chest with no warning. Despite my best efforts, I miss him. Fighting against an instinctual smile, I bite my tongue. Something about the way Stu’s gaze lingers makes me feel like he knows.

“Pumpkin, I mean this with all the love in the world, but I cannot think of a bigger mood killer than you being behind the wheel of a car.”

“Mom!”

She ignores my outrage, “And he’s one of your best friends, you say it all the time.”

Oh my god. I don’t have to turn my head to feel Stu’s grin. Ugh, I hate that it’s true and I hate that now Stu knows it. “Fine. Give me five minutes to change.”

Content to have gotten her way, my mom turns, “Be safe.” Sure, now she cares about safety. “And have fun, I need to run, I’m meeting Wells for lunch.”

Stu doesn’t give me a chance to say anything, because the second my mom’s out of the room, he moves around the kitchen island to stand next to me. Close enough that I can practically feel the warmth of his skin radiating from him. I hold my ground, tilting my chin up enough to look him in the eye. He at least owes me an explanation for all of this.

He smiles, briefly flashing his teeth. “You talk to your mom about me?”

The words come out too excited for me to dismiss them as just conceited. Too happy for me to dismiss his giddiness by telling him that it’s not a big deal. “Shut up.” I duck my head down slightly as he grins. Out the corner of my vision, I see him shift. For a second I think he might move to grab me and pull me into one of those hugs that are a lot nicer than I’d ever admit. “I need to go get changed since I’m being kidnapped.”

Choosing to only hear what he wants, because he’s Stu, he replies without hesitation, “Getting all pretty for me?”

I roll my eyes, vaguely flipping him off over my shoulder before walking up the stairs. The distance is welcome. When Stu’s right there, it’s easy to forget things and just go along with his mood, but this is not okay. I stop talking to him because he wanted space, so he just decides to ambush me? And how long was he in the kitchen chatting with my mom? Oh. My. God. What did he say to her?

Okay, okay--probably nothing too bad. She told me to leave with him. She wouldn’t have done that if he said anything that bothered her.

With a sigh, I take off my sweatpants and sweatshirt and search the chaos that is my closet for an acceptable outfit. It’s getting chilly considering the time of year, colder than it would be in Texas but not deep fall yet. I find a pair of sheer tights bundled up between pairs of shorts. Then I pick out a skirt and long sleeved shirt that matches before pulling my hair out of its sad bun. I smooth it out and fix my appearance in record time.

Stu looks a little too pleased with himself when I finally walk down the stairs. There’s a smugness that adds to my irritation. I have a feeling he can sense my disapproval, because he pulls his arm as we reach my front door. He squeezes me into his side, I roll my eyes. The amount of comfort the hint of something normal brings me is so shocking I can’t bring myself to squirm out of his grasp.

-----

Eyes narrowing, grip on the steering wheel tightening, I prepare to face my enemy. A tight squeezed three point turn.

“You’re overthinking it.”

“Am not.”

“Just like you under thought the red light.”

“It was yellow when I saw it.” I turn my head enough to face him, “It changed color deceptively fast.” Stu draws his eyebrows together, smiling in an oddly soft way. “What?”

My dumbfounded tone makes his smile broaden. “You’ve gotta be right about everything, don’t’cha, angel?”

I’m not sure if it’s his words or the deliberate amount of focus he’s using, but heat rushes to my face. “No, I just--I am.” Dropping my gaze, I tact on an awkward, “Usually.” Shifting in my seat, I refocus on the parking spot. “You sure you want me to park here?”

“It’s easy.” More like easy for him to say. When I don’t ease, Stu extends his arm, placing a hand over mine. His hand is large enough to cover mine, his fingertips long enough to splay across the back of my palm and steering wheel. He’s always so warm. “You just need to open up. Take your time turning.”

I nod, taking a deep breath as Stu scoots back in his seat to give me some mobility. Last time he tried holding my hand through it, but I think he’s starting to see how much of a disaster I am. This is around our fifth attempt. Earlier, I got his car stuck at a weird angle between a mail collection box and someone’s truck.

With a deep breath, I put the car into reverse. I look through the back window, cringing when the curb comes a little too close. My foot hits the break, shifting the car back into drive. I inch it forward, stop, and put it back in reverse. I hit the gas a little too fast, making it a bumpy transition, but I haven’t hit anything yet. With one last turn, the car is put in the right direction. It’s a lot further than I’ve gotten before. I straighten out the wheels, minding the back of the truck as I drive forward, and--

Oh my god! Stu cheers, I can barely get the car into park before Stu places a hand on the side of my head, pulling me towards him with no warning and placing an overenthusiastic, partially open mouthed kiss against my temple. It’s pushy and honestly a little damp, but I’m too excited to mind. Can’t have him getting too comfortable, though, so I shrug him off a little in order to high five him. His hand lingers, squeezing my hand.

“I did it!”

“Because of your talented, amazing, hot teacher who--”

There’s that touch of over confidence bordering on narcissism that’s been missing. “What was that last o--”

He turns my wrist over, striking the back of my wrist with his pointer finger. A literal slap on the wrist. “Interrupting’s rude, princess.” Stu ignores the pointed look I send in his direction. “As I was saying,” he over emphasizes each syllable, “You should appreciate me, and I can think of a few ways for you to express your gratitude.”

I should have seen that coming. I pull my hand towards my lap, my eyes settling there as well. “Your thoughts are the closest you’re getting.” I don’t realize what I’ve said until the muttered half thought is out. Great, now I’m going to get even more of this.

Stu drops his head back, a hand flying to his chest. “You wound me.” His other hand finds itself settling right above my knee. “And for no reason.” His fingertips are pressing into my skin with just enough pressure to steal all my attention.

The heat of his touch bleeds through the thin layer of my tights. My body tenses. “Knock it off, I still need to drive on a highway.”

“Why?” The excitement in his voice gives away exactly where he’s going. “Distracted?”

I shove his arm away with a sound that’s equal parts real laugh and awkward giggle. “The only thing I’m distracted by is the driver’s test I have in two days.”

Stu pouts, sinking into the passenger seat, “Boring.”

Taking the car out of park, I mock his tone, “Driving.”

----

There’s something about the smell of books that’s comforting. Which why the bookstore might be my happy place. Which is why we should not be here. It’s basically impossible to be mad here.

A fact Stu definitely knows considering the way he’s casually following me around, holding an ever growing pile of books with no complaint. This was the trap all along.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Stu hums once in pretend thought. “What? Spending time with you?”

An instinctual ‘why, was Tatum busy’ almost slips past me. “It’s not working, I’m still mad at you.” I pick up another book, turning it to skim the summary on the back before placing it on the stack Stu’s carrying. “You can’t just barge into my house, use my mom to arrange whatever this is--”

He huffs, half stepping in front of me. “You don’t complain when it’s Billy.”

That is completely different. First of all, it’s much less of an ambush considering that Billy has never once involved my mom or stopped me from studying. Second, Billy also never said anything about me being around too much.

I pause, tilting my head to look Stu in the eye and tell him all of that. He’s already looking at me with wide, attentive eyes that are distinct in a way that makes me still. Analytical in a way that’s unnerving. “You--you asked for space.” Feeling antsy, I scratch the back of my wrist as I try to keep myself from saying anything stupid. “And you were mean.”

Wow. So much for holding it together. He angles his head to the side, regarding me cautiously. “It-it wasn’t about you.” The admission is practically pried from him. “There’s a lot going on right now, but I shouldn’t have hurt your feelings.” It’s not exactly the perfect apology, but there’s a surprising amount of vulnerability there. “Don’t you miss us?” Totally not a fair thing to ask, but Stu can definitely tell that I’m easing, “C’mon, let me make it all right. I’ll get you all the books you want.”

I do, but that’s not a fair angle. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I sigh. “I...I can’t be bought.”

Maybe it’s my hesitation or the way my eyebrows raise instinctually or something about how fake my words sound, but Stu smiles, bouncing on the balls of his feet so quickly he nearly drops my pile. “We haven’t gotten to the hardcover books yet.”

Damn him. I roll my eyes as I drop my arms. There is no way I’m making a big show of dropping this, but I don’t exactly have enough fight left in me to prolong this. “Hardcover? Your arms are going to get tired.”

The pile isn’t comically large, barely coming up Stu’s torso, but it still sways when he moves a hand away from the center. He flexes his bicep. “With these guns? No way, baby. Do your worst.”

And so I do. We walk through the aisles together, giggling at any title that Stu can turn into a joke so dumb it circles right back around to funny. He’s patient, letting me debate between different books, and sometimes even giving me actual opinions outside of just get them both. He listens when I read the backs of books and sometimes excerpts from the first page or two.

He’s a good sport about the whole thing, only poking fun at my excitement in lighthearted ways and never really complaining until we’ve been there long enough to justify the hunger he starts talking about. I never did eat that apple and it is kind of close to a late lunch time.

“You know I’m not actually making you buy all those books.”

“I’m a man of my word, angel.” He hums, almost offended that I’d even imply he’d lie in a joking context. “Can’t have you making me a liar.” Stu sets down the pile in front of the cashier.

The thought of someone spending money on me in any capacity isn’t something I’ve always been comfortable with. I eye him, the hint of determination behind his eyes serious as he reaches for what I’d bet is a card backed by his parents. If Stu’s trying to make it up to me, I guess this is okay for a one time thing. “All I’m hearing is daddy’s money.”

I’m grinning despite the look of warning he gives me. “Don’t start.” Stu’s eyes narrow as he pinches my cheek too quickly for me to protest. “I’m being nice.”

He is. The realization that I like it, like him, like this hits hard and fast. “I like you nice.”

Stu seems to pause at that like he’s actively trying to take in my expression. It briefly feels like just another one of his analytical moments until I notice the soft, almost unaware smile ghosting at the corner of his lips. Maybe he is trying to absorb some aspect of this. “Like me enough for a lunch date?”

“If I fail my chem quiz on Wednesday, that’s on you.”

He shrugs, grinning a bit with the motion. “Flunk outta that whole school thing and I’d take you in. Make you a cute, little housewife, get you one of those aprons.”

I should I have seen that coming. “I’m sure Tatum would love that.”

“Tay’s fine, she passed chem.” His smug expression earns him a glare and a not-so-gentle elbow jab. “Ow.” Despite the definitely exaggerated sound of pain, Stu still looks happy, or at the very least amused by something I don’t get. “Feel like I’m with Billy.” He mumbles the comment under his breath instinctually. “Only he doesn’t hit me as hard.”

“It was not that hard.”

He makes a point of rubbing the side I elbowed. “If I’m bruised, will you kiss it better?”

Stu’s joking. I know that he’s joking, which means the way that heat rushes to my face is totally unnecessary. “You’re fine.”

-- Narrator’s POV --

The low dip of the collar of your shirt is a lot harder to not focus on now that you’re sitting directly in front of him. You’re too content to notice any drift of concentration, you just continue to take bites of your food in between topics of conversation.

It’s been silent for a few seconds longer than normal, and that cues Stu in to the fact that your attentive gaze is meant to be something more than cute. You’re waiting for some kind of response. He scrambles, snapping his gaze down towards his drink and then back up to you. What were you talking about?

At first it had been something about a book series that recently released its third part. Stu didn’t get much, but you were excited to talk about it. Sometimes the reminder that under your particular sense of humor and pretty face you’re kind of a dork is endearing. Then you two had talked about school, the middle of the year approaching and an upcoming unit exam in your mutual history class. And then lastly...a movie or two you wanted to see. Were you still talking about that?

“What’d you say?”

You blink, only slightly confused as to why it took him so long to admit he didn’t hear you. “Just that I haven’t seen the new Amityville Horror movie yet and that I’m still on the fence because of the last one.”

“It was okay. A little slow.” You nod at his reply absentmindedly, turning the straw in your cup in an attempt to push past cubes of ice to get to bit of liquid left at the very bottom of the cup. “Like most of the series, so I guess you’d like it.”

The comment is equal parts honest as it is an excuse to get your lips to press together in that passive aggressive way. That paired with the way you raise your eyebrows in offense always makes him want to laugh. You’re upset enough to stop the shifting of your straw. “Are you saying I have bad taste?”

“You like the slower ones, the ones with a psychological angle. You don’t like the gory ones because you can’t stomach them.” You pout, reaching for your glass, tilting it in another attempt to get some more liquid out of a cup that’s just ice. “You’re a girl, it makes sense.”

“So now you’re saying I have bad taste in movies because I’m a girl?”

“All I’m saying is that good, bloody deaths is more of a guy thing. That’s why girls are never the killers.”

Your eyebrows pinch together as your fingers move that straw again. “There are girl killers.”

“Yeah, but they don’t give the good kinda cinematic kills, y’know.” You’re debating on pushing. Stu can tell because your pout morphs into something contemplative as you tilt your head. “Need a refill?”

It’s only somewhat of a deflection. Stu doesn’t mind conflict (clearly), but it’d be nice to get through the day while keeping the peace. Plus, this isn’t something worth truly arguing about, at least not after all the work he’s put into getting you to relax again. And you do need a refill because pushing against ice with your straw isn’t getting you anywhere.

You can tell that the abruptness of the question is likely a sign to drop it. It’s random enough to fit into category of Stu’s casual outbursts, so you don’t think he’s actually trying to force you to cave so you decide to go along with it. “Yeah.” You both look forward, noticing that even though the restaurant you two are at is pretty empty, no one’s coming towards the back section of booths you two are sitting in. “Might take a minute, but that’s okay.”

Stu absentmindedly pushes his cup towards you, too hyperaware of how alone the two of you are. You smile gratefully before innocently taking a sip. “Thanks.”

He nudges your foot with his own, gauging your reaction to the contact. You give him a somewhat questioning look but do nothing to break the contact. Stu takes a deep breath, forcing himself to not react too outwardly at your acceptance. Stu takes your lack of protest as permission to push his leg even closer against yours. He leans forward, supporting himself on his forearms in a way that makes the sleeve of his shirt ride up enough to expose some of his forearm. “Anything for you, babe.”

You roll your eyes, but all Stu can focus on is the way the corner of your mouth pulls upwards. There’s a sarcastic retort coming, Stu can feel it. Your lips part just as your gaze hones in on something that makes your eyes widen. “What happened?”

Awkward nerves spike through Stu briefly. The last time this much genuine, gentle concern was so openly displayed towards him was when you were at the hospital. Despite a concussion, the meds coursing through you, and enough trauma to constitute a final girl origin story, you still noticed the bruise on his face. A mark caused by you and the phone you threw at him in Casey’s house, but you didn’t know that, and the way you watched him. Your worry was so innocently domestic he almost couldn’t look at you.

And now you’re regarding him in that same way, staring at a nearly healed mark that’ll likely take time to fade. A jagged line that cuts across the side of his palm and into the start of the back of his hand. Stu doesn’t remember cutting himself while dragging you away from the shattered glass. Instead, all that comes to mind is a vague pulse of pain drowned out by the panic he felt after realizing that you weren’t waking up.

“Broke a glass.” He hopes the casualness of the lie compensates for his vagueness.

You frown, taking his hand without asking and forcing him to keep his palm exposed at an angle that makes his arm feel stiff. “Did it hurt?”

Stu’s glad your eyes are on his hand because now he doesn’t have to worry about hiding his smile. Your question came out so instinctually, so caring. Like the most important thing right now is if he was in pain.

“Nah,” he breathes, “I was--” He pauses briefly, because it’s not like he can say that he was distracted by the fact that he might have given you brain damage or worse. “High. That’s why I cut myself. I was too high to think through picking up the glass.” Looking up, you tilt your head to the side, almost smiling. “Are you making fun of me?”

“I’d never.” You’re amused now that you know everything’s okay. “Wanna know something kinda cool?” With the way you’re watching him, waiting for an answer, Stu decides that you could say anything and he’d agree that it was the coolest thing ever, even if it’s just a lead up to another book rant. “Okay, well not cool cool, honestly, a little morbid, but in a cool-ish way.”

Now actually curious, Stu nods, “Hit me.”

You let go of his hand in favor of holding up your palm. He doesn’t get it until you tap the pointer finger of your opposite hand against a deep pink line that traces up the skin at an angle. It’s only a little thicker than your natural palm lines. “If I angle my hand like this,” you lay your fingers over his, taking a second to adjust the way your hand’s sitting, “They look alike.”

It’s true, or at least, true enough. When you tilt your hand like that (and ignore that Stu’s cut crosses over to the back of his palm), the lines are practically identical. You’re smiling, like this is a sign, an indication that your kind of hurt could ever align with his.

Stu hadn’t thought much about it before. It’s not like the scar is on his face or anywhere significant to his appearance. But now that you’ve brought it up like this, Stu thinks about maybe taking a knife to the cut again, guaranteeing that it’ll become something permanent.

“Okay, cool might’ve been a little much, but--”

“No, no,” Stu finally settles on, “It is cool, like a sign or something.”

Your eyebrows draw together for less than a second as you deduce exactly what kind of sign he’s talking about. Stu can tell the exact moment you piece it together because you press your lips together, al most glaring as you take your hand back. Your leg shifts, tapping your foot against his ankle in an attempted scolding. “Shut up.”

Already feeling like he knows the answer, Stu asks, “How’d you get that one?”

Your fingers curl forward even though your palm is already facing away from him, a sign of insecurity he doesn’t get. “Y’know.” There’s a pause as you stare at nothing in particular. “At Casey’s.”

The hollowness of your voice strikes him in an unexpected way. Yeah, what happened must have scared you and the phone call probably didn’t help, but there’s such a sensitivity around Casey.

Stu’s rational enough that he can get that it was traumatic, but it’s not like Casey was some lifelong friend. She wasn’t even your best friend. That’s been him and Billy since you got there.

He tries not to focus on it, but it’s too easy to let that grade school mentality take over. That overwhelming mine. The only thing that even comes close to rivaling that is the ugly tinge of worry colored in an ugly shade of guilt that comes up whenever he thinks of the way that you looked in the hospital.

It gets under his skin a little, thinking about what it felt like to hurt you. The rush of the moment was unmatched, adrenaline from the kill and your unexpected protests mixing together. And there was a moment, when you were lying there, that Stu liked in a way he can’t put into words. Exciting in a different way. But then he noticed that you weren’t waking up, and blood was puddling around your face, and then he found out about your concussion.

Stu rarely seriously considers the possibility that something about the way he’s wired is wrong. “You’re uh--” You’re watching with patient eyes as Stu vaguely gestures to his temple, “Okay with all that, right?”

Your chin tilts upwards as you briefly slip away. Billy had talked about potentially over traumatizing you. That’s why Stu had to drop the idea of you getting another ghostface call while alone with him so soon. When Billy mentioned it, it felt like all talk, but now with you getting like this...

It’s weird. The thought of pushing you to the cusp of your breaking point isn’t unappealing, but the thought of having you broken is another thing entirely. Being broken is permanent, being broken changes things.

“Concussion’s gone.” It’s a mumbled comment. You tap your nails against the table again. “But if you’re asking about the other stuff. I don’t know, I hate to admit this because Casey’s the real victim...” Stu nods, a tiny bit annoyed that this is somehow about Casey again. You’re so much better off without her. She was a bad girlfriend, she wouldn’t have been a good friend to you. She would have managed to get in between the two of you in the long run. “But I have good days and bad days and that’s part of the reason I’ve been home so much. It sounds stupid, but--”

“It doesn’t sound stupid.” This is a better topic. A safer one. You nod once, but your expression isn’t convinced and Stu doesn’t know how to dive in. “And this is about you way more than it is Casey. Casey’s dead and you’re not.” The bluntness nearly makes you flinch, something Stu only somewhat dislikes. He didn’t mean to be harsh, but you needed to hear it. “What’s today?”

The change is jarring enough to keep you from getting lost in your head again. “Today?”

“A good day or a bad day?”

Your expression turns, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. After a second of thought, you settle on, “Good. Especially now.”

He beams. “Especially?” You nod, returning his enthusiasm with the single motion. Stu focuses his energy on gripping the edge of the plastic booth seat to keep himself from reaching over and pulling you towards him. He settles for nudging his foot against yours. “You want to get into the effect I have on you?”

“Your ego’s plenty healthy as is.”

“So it’d be good for my ego?”

At that, you freeze, the coy expression on your face slipping. The flash of nerves fuels Stu. “Why are we friends?” It’s a cop out sort of comeback, and you instantly pop a french fry into your mouth to avoid having to say anything else for a second.

-- Y/n’s POV --

I didn’t expect to be here tonight, but my mom was more than happy to keep me out of the house. According to her, I’ve been a little too much into the books lately, but that’s not my fault. I fell behind a little after the attack and my concussion, and I will not let some sociopath ruin my GPA...or my social life.

Just because I feel like me and everyone I care about is safer when I’m home and out of everyone’s business doesn’t mean I need to cower in my room constantly. Even though that’s been pretty good for some of my grades (and I’ve written out some points of what I’ve been through recently that’d make a pretty good college essay), but that’s not the point. I can’t let that bitch win.

So now I’m here, sitting in Stu’s living room with the group, a movie that’s a little more bloody than I’d like playing. It’s okay, though. Everyone’s reaction to me showing up again was worth it. They weren’t overdramatic about it, but the warmth of it was nice.

Now we’re all a mess of blankets and pillows and couch cushions. I managed to snag a middle spot on the main couch, Tate’s head on my shoulder and Billy’s hand loosely resting against my forearm. The gesture is a barely there display of consistency that keeps me relaxed, even as the on screen action gets more and more gory.

“Stu,” Tatum mumbles at another extended stabbing scene, “I said nothing too stab-y.” She lifts her head slightly, vaguely gesturing to me as Stu tilts his head far enough back to fully press into her knees.

He’s been sitting with his back to the couch since we got here. I thought he’d be more annoying about it since Tatum told him to knock it off earlier in the night, but once the movie started Stu dropped it. If there’s one thing that’ll get Stu to focus it’s any movie that clearly saved a large part of their budget for fake blood.

“She’s fine,” Stu hums petulantly before turning to look at me, “Aren’t you, bugaboo?”

I wrinkle my noise at the nickname, smacking his hand away as he reaches for my knee. Gory movies have been a little difficult for me lately, but this hasn’t been too bad. I’m surrounded by people in a well lit area and every time the action picks up, Billy runs his knuckles up and down my forearm until it ends.

Stu pokes at my knee, trying to get some kind of reaction. “It’s not that--Stu, knock it off, I’m literally agreeing with you.” At that, he flashes all of his teeth before leaning towards me. He sticks his tongue out, quickly licking the side of my knee before I can react. Stu has the audacity to laugh as I smack the back of his head. “Stu!”

“And...you two not fighting lasted an entire hour.” Randy sighs, glaring at us from his own seat. The pinch of actual irritation in his voice is fair. Stu and I haven’t exactly made it easy to be around us. Our casual bickering is a cakewalk compared to how we’ve been acting. Kind of more my fault than his because every time Stu tried to force niceness, that’d just irritate me more. Lots of petty comments. Lots of bickering. “New record.”

“Oh, there’s no fight,” Stu’s insistence is loud and over enthusiastic as he leans his weight against my leg. “Me and sweetcheeks here are as strong as ever.”

I sit up enough to gently flick the side of his head, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Stu lets out a mock gasp, “That wasn’t nice.”

Billy taps my arm, “Mean.”

Shrugging a little too smugly, I sink further into the couch, “Guess I’m a bully.”

Stu blinks, turning his head even more, “What. An. Attitude.” The over emphasis on each syllable makes my face feel oddly warm.

Tatum shifts, lifting her head off of me and kicking Stu’s side. It doesn’t look like a totally violent move but it feels more pointed than a joking shove. The way Stu sits up straighter tells me he didn’t quite expect that. “Knock it off.”

Frowning, Stu relaxes his back against the couch. “She started it.”

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #slasher #slasher x reader #final girl fic

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randomnumbers751650 · 11 months

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Talking about a ship for me is complicated because the feeling that I might be missing something or extrapolating too much. But still, I want to talk about Kafka/Blade.

Since HSR is a gacha, the chances of playable characters having romantic relationships are very low, so the fans have to pick the crumbs. Sometimes it’s pretty much obvious the devs want certain characters together, but the hand of the gacha business model holds them back. Other times, not really, maybe the devs are really aiming for platonic or other. And, of course, fans are free to interpret their own. So, I’m here to give my interpretation of KafBlade, why it called my attention.

From their interactions, they are working together and they have a level of affection: Kafka calls him Bladie (and he’s upset if others call him by that), Blade loves hearing her singing and is receptive to her whispers; they also seem to have good synergy in the battlefield. It also works in accomplishing missions, with Kafka’s lack of fear making her prone to injuries and Blade acting as her immortal bodyguard. Plus, there’s the implication they had to fake being a couple for a mission, which I hope it never gets a full flashback because imagining how it went is funnier. How they complement each other is what makes them so interesting.

They are both fundamentally broken people. We know Blade’s story, but it’s pretty implied Kafka has some tragedy in the closet (with Blade commenting he doesn’t want to see her sad; would it really be surprising?). And, they are villains after all.

But still, what I see in them is how they can still experience with each other things that they couldn’t imagine to experience or that they thought that they’d never experience. For example, Kafka is a liar. It’s a strength in her job, to the point even when she’s telling the truth it still feels she’s lying. She uses her whispers to dominate men and then discard them when they’ve done their jobs. She goes full “nothing personnel, kid”, because for her everything is just a job.

And then, one day, appears a guy who’s like “can you do that again?” A guy who wants to be whispered, whose lies sooth and motivate him. And then she learns he’s an immortal that wants to die and then she decides that she’ll help, but that she will strive to make his life more fun until that day because he amuses you. She has no feelings for him, because she has no feelings at all (or are very different from what normal people think to be); either she wasn’t born with them or the organization she learned her skills remove them, but still she just wants to make him feel good about his journey to death.

Blade is similar: he wants revenge. He crafted his entire life and used all his bladesmith skills to pursue that goal; it’s easy to imagine him forgoing everything, his feelings, his self-care, eating whatever slop he puts on his face, a very miserable life. And then one day a woman appears saying “join me” and she’s actually…fun to be around. Sure, they are using each other to their respective objectives, but there’s something more to it. He starts to pick her habits and helps her whenever she needs carry her stuff. And then he starts to wonder that, yes, his life sucks, but it sucks a bit less with her around. The blade he crafted for revenge can be used to protect, unexpectedly.

It should be noted that the devs already had opportunities to portray their relationship as toxic and abusive, but they haven’t. I’m not sure I’d call healthy either, but there seems to be a mutual respect and trust about them. I mean, they are dangerous (along with the rest of the Stellaron Hunters, Silverwolf, Sam and Elio himself (it’d be really funny if he was the cat)), but still it’s not hard to imagine them as a found family. We have to wait for future updates to see how they’ll be developed, but their Team Rocket dynamic with the heroes is fun.

One last thing is how I think it’s funny that KafBlade is “what if Gojo and Marin (from My Dress Up Darling) were evil?”. Kafka is the extroverted girl that loves shopping and fashion, while Blade is the recluse artist, but that grew bitter - as Yingxing, he was one the best bladesmiths of the Xianzou, he knows what beauty is (also please read the fanfic “dal segno al fine”, it really captures this side of his) – and would be reluctant even if Kafka’s feelings were like Marin’s; Kafka would have to have a lot of patience, but I think she’s not one to give up once she set up a goal.

I didn’t really review their text and quotes, I’m remembering all of it in the game and some comments in the internet. Even so, I wonder if others share these thoughts on them, especially the fact they bring out things that were previously kinda buried in each other, so it has potential for a more mature love story.

#honkai star rail #kafblade #blafka #kafka x blade #blade x kafka #again this is how i extrapolate #but still i never understood the term comfort ship until now #of course it also has potential for their interaction even as platonic #or platonic in the lack of a better term #stellaron hunters

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canonicallyobserving911 · 3 months

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WIP Wednesday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Important update regarding 'Chapter 29'

FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Currently 28 chapters completed: 1.77M Words; Rated: Mature

#1 {Previous snippet} #2 {Previous snippet} #3 {Previous snippet}

#4 {Previous snippet} #5 {Previous snippet}

The good news is the chapter is huge because there’s a lot happening with the Diaz family. 🎆🥂

The even better news is Chapter 29 was getting so big, I had to divide it into two chapters, i.e., chapters 29 and 30. 🥳😁🤗

Here’s the 4-1-1: On Sunday, June 23rd, I posted a Several Sentences Sunday and I indicated it would be the final snippet from Chapter 29. Even though that was my original plan and I was adamant about sticking to it, my plans changed as I continued to write the chapter. On Monday, I realized in order to do the chapter justice, there was no way I could reasonably fit everything into 80K words or less. Therefore, I took yesterday to reevaluate and I decided to divide it into two separate chapters. It was a great decision but it wasn’t the first time I’ve done it within this multi-chapter fic. I did it with Chapter 22 because it was huge and I didn’t know until I got ready to post it in AO3 that the site wouldn’t let me upload that many words in one chapter. So, Buck and Eddie’s marriage ceremony and the time the Diazes spent in Italy was divided into two chapters, 22 and 23. Since Chapter 29 is larger than Chapter 22 was before I divided it, I knew I couldn’t continue writing it until I made that crucial decision.

Please understand I love writing and I love all the fics I’ve written but for many reasons, this one is special to me. Mainly because Buck, Eddie and Chris as well as the other main characters are growing and I can see how far they’ve come when I go back and review previous chapters. I’m allowing the writing and the narrative to go where they’re organically going to go and for me, it’s the best way to write. Two of my biggest pet peeves with CANON is lots of things happen off-screen and there’s not enough time in each episode for everything to be included. I know they have 43 to 45 minutes but I like to see things happen and it’s the same way when I’m reading. I’m still pissed we didn’t get to see Buck and Eddie sing karaoke but I digress because if I go there, we’ll be here all day. I like to see and read everything so I won’t have to do mental gymnastics in order to figure out where or what the show or a writer wants me to know but that’s just me. 😜

I’ve posted about the way I worry over the size of the chapters in several of the notes sections and this time was no different because I literally had to stop stressing over how large Chapter 29 had become. I fully understand multi-chapter fics aren’t every reader’s cup of tea but I love long fics and not only do I write them; I read them too. One shots are great and I’ve written some but I usually end up turning them into a series because I believe there’s even more story to be told. When I started writing this fic more than a year ago, my initial plan was for it to be 12 chapters but by the time I got to Chapter 6, I changed it to undecided then after I posted Chapter 11, I decided the final number would be 30. After I wrote Chapter 25, I took a few days to reevaluate where I wanted Buck’s, Eddie’s and Chris’ storylines to go and I knew I wouldn’t be able to fit it all into the remaining five chapters, therefore I increased it to 40. The good thing about that is I incorporated 2 additional chapters in the count so my plan is to still complete this fic within 40 chapters.

I want to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who’s read and commented on this fic on AO3 (I read and respond to every comment) and to those who’ve reblogged posts about it on Tumblr. I really appreciate all of you and I know writing more than 1 million words for a fic is a lot but I love this fic, I’m going to see it through to the end and I’m going to continue to let the writing do what it does.

Since I’m planning to post both Chapters 29 and 30 no later than this weekend, I’ve included one more snippet below and I hope everyone enjoys reading it.

__________

Here’s a snippet from one of Buck and Eddie’s conversations they’re having while they’re lying in bed and it’s emotionally angsty.

_________

“Babe, you know how much I care about Bobby and my relationship with him, right?”

“Of course I do. He’s been there for all of us but for you it’s different because he’s not just your captain, he’s also a father to you and you’re his son. It’s been like that for years.”

“Exactly and him being my captain, mentor, friend and father figure has been great but the truth is… I don’t think he believes I can lead. I didn’t tell you this but when I was trying to get him to notice me so he could see how good I am at being a firefighter…” He trails off because he’s not sure if he should even mention it.

Eddie raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t interrupt, he just patiently waits for him to continue.

Since Buck’s not sure where his career will end up whenever Frank releases him to return to work and he’ll have to discuss what he’s thinking tomorrow when he meets with Captain Mehta, he decides to just say it. “He told me I didn’t have enough life experience but I think my personal life shouldn’t matter.”

“I agree, it shouldn’t but did he say anything else?”

“No… well yeah but it was all about taking inventory of my life so I—I can be at ease but I still don’t know what that has to do with me being fire captain.”

Eddie gently squeezes his hand because he can tell his husband is getting upset. He inhales then says, “Amore mio… a lot about your life has changed since then and it’s unclear why Bobby said those things without elaborating but I do have some ideas about why he didn’t… which we’ll discuss in a minute but let me ask you a question. Last April, during your performance review, did you ask him about it?”

“No… I didn’t because he listed my PT scores as outstanding when they weren’t. Then he um… reminded me that I died and I told him I needed to be held to the same standard as everyone else. I wanted to talk to him then but it didn’t seem like the right time and I still want to talk to him but I don’t think he’ll be objective and it’s the reason why I believe it’s time for me to consider transferring out of the 118… again but it’s different this time and it’s the reason why I want to talk to Captain Mehta since I’m thinking about applying to work at another firehouse.”

Eddie’s eyes widen because he’s in shock but he recovers quickly. “Let’s talk this through because you told me you want to be captain one day and not just any captain, you said you want to be captain of the 118. I know you’re not ready to go back to work and you know I’ll fully support your decision if you decide not to but amore mio… how do you feel about being fire captain now that it’s possible Frank could be releasing you from therapy soon? I’m asking because being captain is your dream.”

“I—I’m not sure but I have been thinking it might be time to give up on my dream since things have changed and if I decide to return um… it’s likely everyone on A-shift will be moving on to other things but where’s that going to leave me?” He admits with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“My love… you know I’ll support you no matter what you decide but I have to be honest, I’m worried”.

“Why?”

“Because being captain of the 118 is your dream and you’ve always been Bobby’s protégé.”

“Yeah, I thought so too but it’s different now because Bobby has already picked the person he wants to take his place but he’s never even considered me.” He pauses for a few seconds then continues. “It’s not important anyway because I can work out of any firehouse in Los Angeles”.

He frowns and replies, “Buck?! Your dream is important and it matters. In September, you told me being captain of the 118 is something you’ve been wanting for a long time so… talk to me. If you don’t want it anymore I’ll understand but if you do… you know I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

“Babe, I know you will but the fact is I’ve been on medical leave for more than five months and I—I was on paid administrative restrictions and paid administrative leave several weeks before that. A lot’s happened over the years and I don’t know if Bobby will ever be able to see past the stuff I did.”

“But Buck…”

He whispers, “It’s ok. I’ve made a lot of mistakes as a firefighter and I don’t know if I can come back from them. I’ve disobeyed orders more times than I can count, I filed a lawsuit against the city and a lot of other things that I can’t change. It’s where I am now so maybe it’s time for me to consider other options.”

What is Eddie going to say next?🤷🏽‍♀️

What is Captain Mehta going to say to Buck when they talk? 👀

Is Buck going to leave the 118 if Frank releases him to return to work? 🙃

__________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago. They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial. But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories. Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie. It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - After Buck resumes therapy, he’ll continue to face the fact that he “DIED” in March 2023 and during those sessions, he’ll learn about the 7 stages of grief. As he continues his healing journey, Eddie will be right by his side just like he promised and the Diaz family will start to deal with their three minutes and seventeen seconds loss as a family.

Chapter 28 - Two years ago, Eddie was asked, “What are you afraid of?”; twice, once by Frank and once by Buck but he only answered one of them without deflecting. Since that time, he’s been to therapy and him and Buck got married but the question resurfaces when Frank asks Buck the same question and Buck asks it of Eddie for the second time. However, when Buck asks, his reasoning will be about something else entirely.

Chapter 29 - Will be posted soon.

Chapter 30 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-28 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #The Diaz Family #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #911 fanfic #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #WIP Wednesday #buddie wip #“I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”#Chapters 29 & 30 will be posted soon

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softguarnere · 1 month

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For Whatever We Lose

Lewis Nixon x OFC (slow burn, enemies to lovers) Chapter Eight: The Same Page

Summary: Sobel had fixed them with a harsh glare when he warned them, “Anyone who does not return at the exact date and time specified will be cut from the paratrooper training program!” A/N: Oh, hi! Is anyone still here? You know, since I haven't updated in *checks notes* four months - yikes This chapter was completed months ago, but I never had time to upload it or edit it because all of my post graduation plans completely fell through and I've been working on starting a new career that's completely different from what I thought I would be doing with my life right now. But I've missed this story and I have a spare second, so I thought I would finally update :) Thanks to anyone who has stuck around <3 Warnings: grief (briefly) Taglist: @kujofam @dcyllom

It simultaneously feels like a few days and endless lifetimes that they’ve been in Toccoa. Not many of them have realized this until Christmas rolls around and they’re told that they will be moving to North Carolina and that they’re allowed to go home for the holidays.

Sobel had fixed them with a harsh glare when he warned them, “Anyone who does not return at the exact date and time specified will be cut from the paratrooper training program!”

He says it with such conviction that Minerva almost doesn’t go home. Not many roads on the Outer Banks are paved, and ferries are used to get between islands. Travel depends on the weather. If it’s finicky, she won’t be able to get back in time. She’ll be cut from the Airborne. And what would everyone say then?

“You’ve got to see your family, though!” Webster exclaims when Minerva reveals that she doesn’t plan on going home one morning at breakfast.

“I want to.” She really, really does. She wants to see Pop’s proud face when he sees the stripes on her uniform, her father to plant a kiss on her forehead, to hug her mother and breathe in her sweet perfume. She’ll even endure her brother’s stupid dog who probably still hasn’t learned to quit yapping twenty-four-seven. “I don’t know how it would work, though. Unless I only stay for a few days and then try to come back early.”

The second the words are out of her mouth, she realizes that it’s not that bad of an idea. Because yes, she loves her family, but they’re not the only ones on the Outer Banks. If she returns home, she’ll have to see the Teach family, and the Beauchamps . . .

“You know what? I will go,” Minerva agrees, which makes Webster smile. “The deadline will just be my excuse to come home early.”

By the time she and Diana meet with the lieutenants that evening, the idea is so set in her mind that she’s able to answer with more confidence when Winters asks if she’ll be going home for Christmas.

“What about you?” She asks, always with the southern niceties.

Winters smiles fondly as he answers. “Yep, I’ll be heading home to Pennsylvania. I want to say goodbye to my parents and family before we get shipped off.” He tilts his head. “What about you, Minerva? Do you have any siblings?”

Across the table, Nixon, who has been brooding into a cup of coffee, suddenly looks up. One of his dark brows quirks in interest, his dark eyes watching Minerva as she attempts to answer.

“A brother. Just the one.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Winters says thoughtfully. “Is he in the service? Or is he younger?”

Minerva bites the inside of her cheek. Describing John-Michael to people who have never met him is hard. Hopefully the lieutenant won’t ask her for details if she gives him the bare minimum, albeit truthful, answer.

“He’s my twin brother, actually,” she replies. “But no, he’s not in the service.” She decides to beat any questions to the punch. “Doctor won’t let him serve.” There.

“How about you, Diana?” Nixon interjects. “Got any siblings?”

Diana’s eyes widen at the direct question. She jumps slightly, the coffee in her cup sloshing a bit. “Three brothers, two sisters,” she answers.

The conversation moves on to other things. But while Minerva sips her coffee, she could swear that she feels Nixon watching her – studying her, even – from across the table.

She refuses to look at him. He can look at her all he wants, regret what he’s missing out on.

Enjoy the view, she thinks as she nods along with something that Winters says. Because it’s all you’ll get.

Diana is too timid to be the bad guy, which means that it’s up to Minerva to issue the ultimatum before the girls leave for the holiday. Which is fine. She’s been the bad guy before, at work, at home – everywhere, according to some people. Later, she’s not even sure what she tells the girls about how crucial it is for them to make it back from Christmas on time, but the familiarity of the job leaves a tight feeling in her chest that doesn’t begin to ebb until the Albemarle Sound comes into view.

Despite everything that happened last time she was home, the ocean sprawling on either side of her calms her nerves as she travels down the familiar barrier islands. When she was a child, her father used to bring her back books from the mainland when he returned from selling their catch. Ever since he gave her that first book about Greek mythology, she’s always imagined Poseidon lurking somewhere out there in that vast, endless blue, his very breath sending in the waves that lap against the shore, wearing away at them. She’s only been gone a few months, but her eyes recognize every subtle change in the landscape where the water has reshaped the restless ribbons of sand.

If Poseidon were real, he could have stopped the Turkey Shoot, she thinks to herself when the first Lifesaving Station comes into view. But then, she realizes, I wouldn’t have joined up.

It’s the first of many hard truths that she’ll have to contend with now that she’s returned home.

The barking starts when she’s only just in sight of the house. It’s coming from the backyard, as usual. And as always, Minerva pushes a hard sigh through her nose, just like she would when walking home from the school in the afternoons. Shut up, Sparky.

She should have written ahead to warn her family that she was coming, but she didn’t want to get their hopes up. After all, she wasn’t planning on returning until David talked her into it. So it’s not until she’s knocking on the door that anyone except John-Michael’s dog has any clue that she’s back.

The door opens to reveal a tall, dark-skinned man who peers at her from behind large, wire rimmed glasses. His face cycles between shock and confusion before it settles into a well-worn smile.

“What’s up, duck?” He asks.

Minerva can’t contain herself any longer. Trying to suppress the joy that rushes into her heart would be as useless as trying to restrain the ocean itself. She drops her bags and throws herself into her grandfather’s arms.

“Hey, Pop!”

“Who’s at the door?” A woman’s voice asks. Footsteps approach, and Minerva glances up to see her mother, who freezes in her tracks. “Minerva?”

“Minerva?” A man’s voice echoes as her father sticks his head out of a side room and sees her for the first time.

It’s the best kind of chaos, being swept up by her family like this. Realistically, she’s known that she has missed them. But it’s not until they’re showering her with affection that she realizes just how much.

And she’s been so busy trying to become a paratrooper that she hasn’t stopped to think about what she might be missing back home. Time did not stop passing while she was away. If anything, it sounds like it’s been moving faster since she left. Her family has been catching her up on everything she’s missed since she stepped in the door, and they’re well into dessert that night before the list of changes shows any sign of expiring. Minerva has just taken her last bite when the door opens to signal John-Michael’s arrival, which changes the course of the conversation as swiftly as a riptide.

“Minerva!” Her brother’s face lights up when he sees her. Never a hugger – or one for any kind of physical contact, really – he offers her a nod and a bright smile as he takes his usual place beside her at the dinner table. “You’re back!” He tilts his head, smile wavering in confusion and the upmost concern. “Why are you back? Have you been discharged?”

“I’m on leave for Christmas,” she assures him. “They haven’t managed to get rid of me yet.” Then, for good measure she adds, “And they won’t that easily, no matter how bad they want to.”

Pop freezes with his glass of water halfway to his mouth. He peers over the wire rims of his glasses, glancing between Minerva and her parents, waiting to see if they’re as concerned as he is.

The room holds its breath for a moment while everyone waits to see if Minerva will elaborate. When she doesn’t, Pop finally asks, “What do you mean, Mimi?”

Only Pop ever calls her that specific nickname. He’s used it less and less as Minerva has gotten older. If he’s pulling it out now, he must be full of worry.

Pop has a lot on his plate. Her whole family does, what with manning light stations and keeping the houses of their upper-crust, seasonal neighbors spotless. But Minerva has a lot on her plate, too, and she’s not sure how much longer she can keep it to herself without confiding in someone.

She sighs, making up her mind. Then, she tells them all about what it’s really like to be a female paratrooper.

Someone has been in her room since the last time she was home. It’s not like Minerva has anything to hide – anymore – so it’s not like this is the end of the world the way it would have been when she was fifteen. Still, the mirror over her vanity that she shattered the last time she was here has been replaced. Her mother must have come in to clean and discovered the smashed looking glass, the reflective shards strewn everywhere. No doubt she’ll have to explain that at some point during her visit.

Minerva turns her back on the new mirror and begins unpacking her bags. There isn’t much besides some letters that she wants to leave here so that they don’t get stolen. Or so she thinks, until she finds the bundled pair of socks in the bottom of her back.

The rolled pair is heavier than the others. The familiar weight of the secret is an anchor that immediately pulls her down onto her bed, staring at the bundle in her hands in disbelief. At the beginning of her time in Toccoa, this had been something that she thought about nearly every second of every day. Now . . . When was the last time she thought about this? What kind of person is she, if she could forget such a thing?

Helen was right, she thinks, hands trembling as she unrolls the socks to reveal the wad of letters folded up inside. I am a bad person.

Carefully, she unravels the small pile of letters until she reaches their center. When her eyes catch the rumpled yellow telegram they conceal, she pauses and sucks in a sharp breath before she can continue. She has not looked at this telegram since the day it arrived in Toccoa with the letters from her family and friends in Frisco – and she has not dared think about what hides between the folded yellow slip.

The ring sparkles, catching the light as she removes it from its hiding place. The chain it hangs on feels cold to the touch, just like the ice water currently churning in her stomach does. What would Jack say, if he knew that he spent all that money on an engagement ring just for Minerva to stow it away – out of sight, out of mind – the second that she was informed of his death? She should have kept that chain around her neck so her dead fiancé could be forever close to her heart.

There’s a soft knock at the door. Before Minerva has time to reply, the door opens and her mother sails in, just like in the old days. Although this time she freezes halfway to the bed when she sees what Minerva holds in her hands.

“Oh, Minerva.” In a second, she’s on the bed beside her, and Minerva has folded herself into her mother’s enveloping arms in a way that makes her feel like a small child who has just run to her mother after scraping her knees. “He loved you more than anything,” her mother finally whispers as she smooths Minerva’s hair.

She should be crying. Or at least she feels like she should be. Instead, Minerva lets her mother rock her back and forth while she squeezes the ring in her hand, staring at the new mirror above her vanity.

“Everything has changed,” she finds herself whispering the same realization that she had on the Women’s Division’s first night out. Except this time, it hits her even harder, because she’s in her old bedroom, but there is nothing familiar about the place anymore.

Just a few months ago, she was kissing her fiancé and wishing him luck as he joined the Navy. Then she herself had volunteered for the Airborne when it was announced that they would be accepting women for a new program. That’s when it all unraveled – when she had to break a mirror to destroy her reflection because it only showed her someone that was a showoff, who was vain, and who was an all-around bad friend. According to Helen Beauchamp, that is. God, she hopes that she doesn’t run into her former best friend while she’s home. That would be the last thing she needs, something she couldn’t withstand the pressure of.

When she finally comes back to herself, Minerva disentangles herself from her mother’s embrace and stares numbly at the ring still caressed in her palms.

“I should return it to Jack’s mother,” she decides aloud. “It feels right for her to have it.”

Her mother reaches up and smooths Minerva’s hair in a way that she only does when trying to comfort her – something Minerva really can’t remember the last time she did. “It’s up to you. He bought it especially for you, though.”

The cool band presses against her palm as Minerva closes the ring in her fist, squeezing it tight, as if demanding it spill out an answer. She’s so focused on the sensation that she almost doesn’t notice her mother’s featherlight touch on her arm.

“I have something for you.” Beneath them, the mattress shifts as Minerva’s mother repositions herself, removing something from her pocket in the process. Gently, her slender fingers unclench Minerva’s fist and place something in it.

She’s speechless when she realizes what she’s just been handed. There’s a moment of silence before Minerva finds her voice again. She fingers the pearls as if they might break, tracing the silver cross even more gently. “Your rosary?”

“You need it now more than I do,” her mother explains. “I would just feel safer knowing that it was protecting you.”

That statement really says something. This pearl rosary is the only connection that Minerva’s mother has to her past.

When she was about nineteen – or so everyone reasons – she had washed up on the shores of Cape Hatteras in a tattered dress with no memory, no name, and no idea where she was or how she got there. Her only possession was the rosary around her neck, which she clung to with an iron grip. Nevertheless, her frightened eyes and amnesia could not detract from her queenly stature.

It had been Minerva’s father who had found her as he walked from the Life-Saving Station to exchange his chit with the Surfman at the next station. He himself came from a proud line of people who had occupied the Outer Banks since the beginning of time – his family proudly joked that they had been the ones to welcome the Roanoke Colony settlers to the island, even though Minerva was pretty sure her father had stolen that joke from Will Rogers.

For her mother to offer her the only link to her past, to tell Minerva that the very item that had protected her for so many years would now offer her protection in war . . . A tugging sensation that Minerva has not felt for months floods her chest.

“Mom,” she breathes. “Thank you.”

There were so many times throughout her childhood and teenage years that Minerva felt that she didn’t understand her mother, that her mother didn’t understand her. It often felt like they were speaking a different language, and Minerva had forced herself into a mold to get along with her, to be perfect for her.

Now, though, when her mother slips the rosary over Minerva’s neck and embraces her once again, for the first time, it’s like they’re on the same page.

#lewis nixon #lewis nixon x ofc #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers oc #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #for whatever we lose #oc minerva revels #my writing

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rhondafromhr · 4 months

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Last little snippet from the Grace in the church of the starry children au!!

Prompt by @aroace-elgyem. This is the final snippet I plan to post, next update will be a link the the final oneshot on ao3 whenever I finish it!!

Summary: In one timeline, Grace and her family are still highly devoted to their religion, but they worship entirely different Gods (or, rather, Lords) and have to be a little more hush-hush about it. Her old family friend, Uncle Wiley, brings her two special gifts for her eighteenth birthday: a cool, authentic vintage denim jacket from the eighties and her very own copy of the black book. She promises to use it sparingly until she’s older and she’s had more practice, but when Brenda, the pretty cheerleader at school with an obvious crush on her, confides in her that she’d do anything to get back her sister who disappeared, Grace decides to make an exception for her.

Part 1

Part 2

The next morning, Grace completes her outfit with the denim jacket and something about the feeling of its weight on her is just so right, as if it was always meant to be there. She ties up half of her hair with the scrunchy again, too. It’s not because Brenda got it for her or because she wants Brenda to see her wearing it and be happy that she likes it so much, she just prefers to have her hair out of her face. Yeah, that’s it.

She carefully tucks the book into her backpack. Bringing it to school might not be the best idea, but she’s even more reluctant to let it out of her sight. If she keeps it on her person at all times, she won’t lose it and she doesn’t have to worry about anyone messing with it or taking it, either. Even if Max Jägerman thinks snatching all the nerdy kids’ backpacks and dumping the contents into the nearest trash can is the funniest thing in the world, he would never in a million years do that to her. Nobody would. The upside of people leaving her alone is that they leave her alone. She sits down to breakfast with her parents again, fuels up with another piping hot cup of black coffee and heads out the door.

Throughout the day, she finds herself staring at her peers as they move through the hallways, some strolling nonchalantly to their next class and chatting with friends, worried only about making it on time and hoping Miss Mulberry won’t spring a pop quiz on them, others practically sprinting to get the hell out of there before Max can catch them. She watches as all of this is happening, only vaguely aware of it, feeling almost as if she isn’t quite there. Her mind is filled only with thoughts of all the different spells she could try out on them.

If she could catch one of them alone, she could devour their soul and hand it over to Nibblenephym on a silver platter. So long as she was careful to cover her tracks, she’d be fine. This is Hatchetfield, after all. People go missing every day and the police probably wouldn’t look too far into one more disappearance. Uncle Wiley would be so proud if she could pull off something so advanced right away. She knows her parents said to use the book sparingly, but she has to start somewhere. She has to do something or she’ll never learn how to harness its power. Still, she thinks it might not be a bad idea to tread lightly and start with something a little easier. She scowls. It’s so annoying when her parents are right, but they do have a point. They’re pretty well-versed in this type of thing and she knows they have her best interests at heart.

As she’s leaving English, her last class of the day, she gets her chance. She hears yelling, along with the familiar crashing sound of somebody being slammed into a locker. She peeks around the corner, careful not to reveal herself, and sees Max looming over the tall, lanky kid that always wears the bow tie and suspenders (she’s pretty sure his name is Peter. He sits with her at lunch as often as he can to avoid, well, this, but they’ve never really spoken before), holding him by the collar of his shirt. Max says something or other about staying out of his hallway and slams Peter to the ground before walking away and leaving him in a crumpled heap. He struggles to pick himself up and from the way his wrist bends, Grace is pretty sure it’s sprained or broken. This might be a good opportunity to try that healing spell. She steps out of the shadows and slowly approaches him.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asks him, doing her best not to look intimidating. She’s well aware of her reputation and while she normally doesn’t mind it, she does need him to not run away and actually let her get close enough to try out the spell.

“Fantastic,” he says with a bit of a bite “never better. You should see the other guy.”

“Let me see your wrist,” she says, kneeling down beside him “I, um, I know first aid, so I can tell if it’s broken or not.”

He eyes her uneasily, but still extends his arm, too dazed to object. She takes his wrist in one hand and uses the other to reach into her backpack and open the black book, keeping it inside so that he can’t see it. She flips to the page she needs and begins chanting the words slowly and carefully to get the pronunciation just right, saying them as quietly as possible under her breath so that Peter won’t hear. She wills herself to focus, putting every ounce of mental and physical energy in her body towards the task. She feels his wrist move beneath her fingers and when she removes them and opens her eyes, it’s once again straight. Peter looks at his wrist, then back at her, then back at his wrist again and tentatively moves it around, a mixture of surprise and suspicion on his face.

“Not broken,” Grace tells him. It’s not a lie - it isn’t broken, at least not anymore. “I guess Max isn’t as tough as he thinks it is.”

“Right,” says Peter, not sounding very convinced “uh, thanks, I guess. I’ll see you around.” He scurries off, leaving Grace to sit down on the floor. She feels a little weird, almost sort of dizzy and drained and not quite herself, but also more herself than she’s ever been. That really took it out of her. She’s glad she didn’t go straight to soul eating. She’s so focused on trying to breathe normally again that she doesn’t even notice Brenda standing over her until she says,

“Hi, Grace! This seat taken?”

Grace shakes her head, unable to really do anything else and Brenda takes a seat next to her.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Uh-huh,” Grace says “all good. Just a little tired, I guess.”

“Oh, totally, me too,” Brenda says “cheer practice was brutal today. It was all conditioning and they made us run a hundred laps. Like, literally! So many pushups, too. I can’t feel my arms!”

“Wow,” says Grace, genuinely impressed “who knew so much went into cheer. It sounds harder than football, even.”

“Thank you!” says Brenda “that’s what I’m saying! Nobody gets it.” Grace isn’t sure how to respond and they sit in not entirely comfortable, but not entirely awkward silence for a moment before Brenda says, “Hey, I saw you, like, holding hands with the bow tie kid earlier. No judgment. He’s rich, I get it. Just didn’t think he was your type.”

Grace studies her face and she could swear that Brenda almost looks a little hurt, her expression tinged with just a hint of disdain that implies there might in fact be a little bit of judgment for being involved with the bow tie kid.

“Oh, it wasn’t like that,” Grace says quickly. She’s not sure why she’s so eager for Brenda to know that. “Max pushed him and he landed on his wrist kind of funny. I was just checking it out to make sure it wasn’t broken or anything.”

Brenda visibly relaxes, her eyes softening and her lips curling into a fond smile. “That’s actually really sweet,” she says “I don’t know why people are so afraid of you.”

“People are afraid of me?” Grace says, doing her best to sound shocked and appalled. When Brenda’s eyes go wide and she starts to sputter, Grace turns to her with an impish grin and says, “I’m just messing with you. I know.”

Brenda snorts and descends into a fit of laughter. Grace thinks it’s just about the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. She’s pleased that Brenda liked her joke so much. “Okay, I take it back, you’re awful,” she says playfully, lightly swatting Grace’s arm. Grace’s face heats up. She decides not to read into it. Probably just a lingering side effect of doing that spell earlier.

Grace hears footsteps drawing near and looks up to see Kyle. Immediately, she’s a little bit annoyed. She doesn’t have anything against the guy, but does he really have to interrupt her moment with Brenda right now? They’re in the same group of friends and he gets to see her all the time.

“Hey, Brenda,” he says. “Grace,” he adds a bit more flatly.

“Oh, uh, hi, Kyle,” Brenda replies.

“You busy right now?” he says “‘cause I’m struggling, like, hard in AP Calc and we’ve got that test coming up. I know you’re pretty decent at it, so I was wondering if you could help me study?” He rubs his neck nervously. “Maybe at Pasqualli’s? My treat.”

“Pasqualli’s?” Brenda says with a slight scowl “that’s kinda forward, don’t you think?”

“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” Kyle sputters, “they just have good breadsticks, that’s all. Besides, it’s the only good study spot in town. All the singing at that coffee shop is so distracting.”

“Yeah, I know they’re good breadsticks,” Brenda replies “everyone likes the breadsticks, that’s not the issue! The point is, I’m not going to share them with just anybody and I’m sorry, but you know I don’t like you like that. I already have a date tonight, anyway.”

Kyle’s face falls, as does Grace’s.

“Oh, uh, you do?” he says.

“Yeah,” Brenda replies “Grace and I are going to Beanie’s.” Grace’s eyes go wide.

“We are?” she says, then it dawns on her that Brenda’s probably just saying that to get out of hanging out with Kyle (although she certainly wouldn’t say no if Brenda invited her for real). She’s not totally oblivious to these things, it just takes her a minute to catch on sometimes. “Oh, cool,” she says, figuring the least she can do is help Brenda out and make it convincing “I know you were a little undecided between that and the new vegetarian restaurant on sixth street, but Beanie’s is good. I’m more in the mood for coffee right now.”

“When aren’t you?” Brenda teases and Grace kind of loves the way it makes it sound like they’ve been dating for a while, maybe even years. As if that weren’t enough, Brenda grabs her hand. Her heart is racing now. Grace laces their fingers together and squeezes, only to really help sell it.

“Wanna get going?” Grace asks.

“Sure,” Brenda says. She temporarily lets go of Grace’s hand to stand and Grace is almost disappointed until Brenda extends her arm again to help Grace up. Grace collects her backpack off of the floor, checking to make sure the book is still safely inside before zipping it up and throwing it over her shoulders again.

“Oh, uh, good for you guys. Happy for you,” Kyle says with an earnest, but sad smile. Grace and Brenda leave, still hand in hand until Brenda notices and pulls away.

“Oh, God, sorry, I didn’t even realize,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Grace with another one of those awkward, but charming smiles “I didn’t mind.”

“Good,” Brenda says “hey, uh, I think I might go to Beanie’s for real if you want to join me.” There are a few things in this world that Grace will never turn down. A cup of coffee is pretty high up on that list and as of late, so is any opportunity to hang out with Brenda. She agrees and as she sees the way Brenda’s eyes light up, she gets a weird (but not unpleasant) feeling in her chest. Probably just another side effect of that spell. They decide to walk there. It’s only a few blocks away from the school and the parking is absolutely horrendous, anyway.

They arrive and order their drinks. Emma’s working today and the owner’s back is turned, which means they’re on the house. Over her many visits here, Grace has secured a spot as Emma’s second favorite regular next to that dorky office worker who always flirts with her, because she always orders a simple black coffee and never asks Emma to sing when she tips or wastes her time with too much chit-chat. Emma even makes Brenda’s comparatively fancy beverage, an iced americano with two and a half pumps of the house-made pumpkin spice flavored syrup and a splash of oat milk, without much complaint. Grace leads her to her favorite spot at the counter facing the window and they take their seats on the slightly wobbly, mismatched stools at the end. It’s a strategic choice. Grace figures she’ll be a little less nervous if they’re not face to face the entire time.

“So,” says Brenda “if the bow tie kid isn’t your type, then who is?” Grace’s face goes bright red. She nearly chokes on her coffee.

#npmd #nerdy prudes must die #hatchetfield fanfic #grace chasity #brenda npmd #halocheer #grace/brenda #max jagerman #kyle clauger #Pete makes an appearance but it’s brief

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cancerian-woman · 1 year

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What are your headcanons for bonkai v klonnie relationships? Differences and similarities?

that’s fun. I have a small list for now! I’ll update it later.

Differences:

Klaus would be in denial about his feelings towards Bonnie. He’d do things to irritate her or upset her and practically just anything to keep up that denial on his end because accepting those feelings would’ve be harder for him. Since that places him in a space of vulnerability.

Whereas it’s less denial on Kai’s end. He’d know from day one he wants to pursue Bonnie even if she isn’t intrigued by him. He really obsessed and idolized Bonnie from day one!

Bonnie’s never been around a group of witches longterm that would so special for her knowing that tie goes back to her family.

While the Mikaelson’s only have minimum witches in their line there’s still plenty of knowledge there since they’ve been on earth forever Lol.

Similarities:

Both would push Bonnie to have more agency for herself.

Both would help her realize that she does need a break from her friends sometimes.

In the case that Kai/Klaus decide to stay near or with family. There’s someone on both sides who do have something to make up for. Elijah in betraying Bonnie twice. Although Liv being flirty with Jeremy isn’t as intense as Elijah’s consistent betrayal of Bonnie. They’d have to air out those issues. Then she’d learn to bond with either Parker or Mikaelson. I think she’d be best with Jo/Liv/Luke in a similar fashion to Kol

Bonnie’s been a self-taught witch since Grams died. So having extra help around her would be uneasy at first with Klaus or Kai. There a bit of reluctance to believe that someone else would want to carry that weight.

Bonnie would want to know any and everything related to the families history with Grams(or even Abby since she and Jo/Kai are the same age) or Ayana.

Both relationships would or be could very tumultuous in a sense but there’s a push-and-pull factor that Bonnie would have with both of them. Taking Jeremy for example he’d often say she didn’t need to do something, but if Bonnie felt otherwise then he’d back down. That’s not something that would happen with either Klaus or Kai. If they have to physically force Bonnie to see the reason then so be it. She’s so independent which neither Klaus or Kai would fault her for, in many instances they’d understand this but would both just have to apply more effort to get her to be understanding when someone cares for her.

Bonnie/Klaus and Kai all have some family issues where they’ve felt hurt by family. We’ve never seen Bonnie discuss those issues longterm and how that impacts her relationships platonic or not. But this would be something she could relate to in both men. Kai’s family emotionally abused him and intentionally made all those kids just to deny and prolong the merge. Where Klaus suffered physical abuse for…all his human years + majority of his immortal life. These conversations with either Klaus or Kai would be so vulnerable but would paint them both in different lights for Bonnie while forcing her to open up about things she doesn’t talk about. Her abandonment issues, how her own coven abused her and how tiring but fulfilling it is to be apart of a legacy.

There’s definitely more to this list but that’s all I have for now. Anybody feel free to add in your thoughts.

Thank you for the ask!

#sevensistersofsussex #dria responds #i feel like i forgot some things though

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plague-of-insomnia · 1 year

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I got this comment on Synch a few days ago and I am STILL livid about it so I decided I would post about it here after all.

Listen. I get not everyone understands what chronic illness is like. It’s hard if you don’t have one or know someone close to you who does.

But Synch literally shows what life can be like for someone like me. It shows how sick you can be. How much you may have to give up, even things you love, like creating, because it’s physically or mentally impossible for you to do as a result of your disease.

I literally say in the A/N how I cannot make promises on update frequency bc of my health.

It has only been a month since my last update, when I haven’t been able to update most of my other works in a year or more.

And you come onto my fic and say this shit? “Hope it’s not dropped”???

Fuck you.

You have no idea how much of a slap in the face it is to get a comment like this on THIS story of all fics. The story that I wrote to cope with my frustration about my illness, which I explain in the notes so it’s not as if I didn’t say it clearly from the get-go.

The story I wrote partly because I hadn’t been able to write or create in months.

You comment on a chapter where you can clearly see I have not responded to any of the comments there, whereas I have on all the other previous ones on earlier chapters.

Maybe put two and two fucking together??

If I had gotten a “hope it’s not dropped” comment on any other fic I would not have been mad. Bc it’s been a long time, it’s a fair question to ask, not to mention none of those are about living with a chronic illness.

I cannot express how angry this comment makes me.

So much it ALMOST makes me wanna pull the entire fucking fic. Because if this is how people are gonna act when I take a risk and bare a little of my own experiences as hard as they’ve been, then I don’t think they deserve to read my shit.

I’m still tempted to block this person from my AO3 account completely.

Maybe that seems overly harsh, but I want to explain again what a slap in the fucking face something like this is.

It is akin to someone with cancer going to an event without a wig, finally feeling some confidence coming back despite all they’ve had to endure, perhaps having almost died, and people asking “why hasn’t your hair come back yet?”

Some people really need to learn to be fucking appreciative and not treat creators like some slot machine they pull a lever to get a treat.

Like if you really had read the story and paid attention you would understand what I’m dealing with and why I might not be able to update when you want me to.

You can show support for a fic that hasn’t been updated without being a jerk about it. Like “i still love this story and am excited for the next update!” Shows the author you’re excited even if it’s been a while without being an entitled asshole.

Even if someone doesn’t have an illness, this is still something someone is doing in their free time and sharing with you out of their good will. You’re not owed shit.

So yeah. I sat on this but since I’m still absolutely livid days later I wanted to vent here about it. I’m really sick of shitty, insensitive comments on my posts and fics this week.

#mini rant #don’t do shit like this

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forthesanityofstorytellers · 9 months

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The Room of Maps

(I'm working out a new WIP idea focused on Lyra and decided I might as well just post as I go. No idea how far Imma get but ya'll can be along for the ride, lol)

Context: Lyra learns more about one of The Five Kingdoms, called Geshon

(Previous)

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The room of maps was a huge cavernous chamber, with shelves carved out for each specific map related to the five kingdoms. The islands and the surrounding areas were ruled by her family, and had the most extensive collection of connected shelves in the room.

But thanks to the deals made across the kingdoms during Rmeak, a time of exploration, every kingdom had a map of every other kingdom, and updated maps were created and traded regularly to ensure everyone was on the same page.

Small alcoves were carved out to the sides, some more like minor rooms than anything else, and tables of hardened matter had been grown and sculpted in place in various locations around the room. Some of them were always in use, surrounded by Aimlita, ones who dedicate their lives to the study and upkeep of the maps here.

While she respected the ones who studied and kept the maps…she did not envy their lives. To see the world but never with your own eyes felt like a particularly cruel way of living. Like being allowed to paint a bowl of fruit but never taste the flavors. It would drive her mad.

She kept her decorum as best she could, however, walking into the room as her tutor decided which maps they would look over today. He counted off the connected shelves while muttering to himself before selecting a midrow section of maps that contained the inner-sides of a kingdom known as Geshon. He pulled out the map of the main city and laid it out on the corresponding table, spreading it out and weighting down the edges with small lumps of mineral designed to hold the parchment in place.

Lyra waited until he was finished before taking her place next to him, sitting with her wings tucked and her hands in her lap as he began his lecture.

“Geshon,” he stated. “The main structure. The outland itself is known to stay in one place, unlike these islands. The base is said to be anchored to one of the roots of the world. They’ve developed an interesting method of both travel and agriculture, two things of which they are heavily known for and which you will need to familiarize yourself with–”

She realized he had cut off so early in the lecture and looked up at him. “What?”

“Princess. You are looking at the wrong part of the map.”

“Because I already know about the main stem. I want to hear about the little bits and pieces. Like this,” she pointed at a cluster of buildings at the edge of the map. “What are they? Why are they here, far from the stem? What do they do?”

“Ah,” he sighed. “That would be one of the markets. They are similar to our waterfront areas; trade and exchange happen there so the high family does not have to go too far out and visitors do not have to go too far in.”

“A market!” she said with a smile, leaning in. “What’s it like?!”

“Oh…” he made a grumbling noise and waved his hand. “Nothing special. You won’t be spending much time there anyway, not if they’re the ones that take you on. The high family usually doesn’t even visit the market. They send someone down to represent them. Similar to your family here.”

“Is it guarded?” she asked with bright eyes. “Is it loud? An exchange of goods and services sounds like it would be just bustling with life!!”

He gave her a look and she frowned. “What?”

He took a breath. “And here,” he said, pointing to a cluster on the opposite side of the market, closer to the stem but still away, “is the Moh, the place of stories and myth.”

“The…” she paused. “The what?”

“It is said that the land of Gesh is ripe with legends, myths, and tales. The speakers of such fables gather here,” he said, tapping it again. “You’ll find stories on every subject, from the way they think the Great Tree was created to the end days, from the legend of some chosen king against evil to the stories as to why the stars fall during certain cycles.”

She stared at where his finger was before looking back up at him. “Qwakas…do you know the legends?”

He smiled a little, small and mostly to himself. He sat next to her and hmmed a little to himself. “Well. I might have heard one or two in my time. I wasn’t always a Qwakas, you know. I spent my time in the world, as we all must do. Now let’s see…” He tapped a finger to his chin in thought. “The easiest one to remember is the story of the king and the supposed evil that he fights.”

“Fights?” she asked, tilting her head. “Not fought?”

“Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “No, this legend is supposed to be some sort of future-telling. You’ll find they like to fancy themselves as future-speakers in Geshon, but don’t be drawn in. Most of it is either read from you or a glimpse into probability. Now.” He tapped his chin again. “Let’s see. Ah yes. I remember.”

She sat, staring at him as her Qwakas began to recite the future-story.

#Lyra #MidnightMadnessWIP #WIP #my wips #Midnight Madness

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renren85105 · 10 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Thanks for asking me, Tee!

This was a lot harder than I thought it would be and it took me a lot longer than I expected it to! These are not in any order after the first one, because I cannot rank them lol.

Houseboat of Love

I’m weak for exes to lovers and second chance at love fics, so when the prompt came up in the 2022 BJYX Week, I knew I had to try my hand at writing one. And it’s turned out to me my favorite of my fics, or maybe my favorite of my favorites, and based on stats alone I think it’s most people’s favorite of mine. I wanted to start at the new beginning for them, have Xiao Zhan unwilling to see Yibo again because he was afraid of his own remaining feelings and for Yibo to have never stopped loving Xiao Zhan, but he hasn’t been allowed to for some years and how he’s had to get on with living and making space for this love that doesn’t have anywhere to go. I know this makes the fic sound really angsty, but starting at the new beginning I think keeps it in the background, a hum of angst that pushes the story but isn’t the point of the story. And I loved writing tattooed buff Yibo doing the bat crunches and Xiao Zhan being so obviously thirsty for his ex-husband, I let him get goofy with it and it was so much fun to write. The whole fic was a joy to write, honestly. And I’m glad Tash told me to bring back the bit of what happened between them, even though she then (lovingly) yelled at me for what happened between them, because I think it really did make the story more well-rounded. This one was partially inspired by the Sweet Home Alabama movie, where the main character finds out her ex never filed the divorce papers - but I couldn’t bear to have Xiao Zhan be with anyone else in my version so that part of the plot is all I adapted to this story. My sleepwalking/sexsomnia fic was technically my first exes to lovers fic (it came out over a year later) but I feel like this one was my first real “break them up and get them back together because they love each other still” fic. And I’m glad so many have loved it as I have.

Love the Simulation I’m Dreaming In

I love this one because it is so much fun. It was so much fun to adapt this Golden Girls plot to Yizhan, I made several changes from the Love, Rose plot so it fit a) modern times and b) so Jackson & Yixing weren’t knowingly setting up Xiao Zhan to fall in love with their creation. In the GG episode, Rose finds her fake man in the phone book, and so I decided that a good update for that would be a hookup app. I loved making Xiao Zhan so damn dramatic (swanning around in a Shut Up robe and cooking stir fry for one despite the other two roommates being home, all because they weren’t there for his big announcement) and I made myself laugh with the ostrich feather conversation and so much of it. I’m just glad my humor comes across and other people find it funny too! Also Yibo is hot as fuck in this, if I do say so myself. And that’s always fun 😂

You Can't Rush the River

This one was my first ever gift exchange fic, and it was for my dear friend Elisa. I had seen the first season of the Witcher and read a couple of chapters of the book, but I’m largely too squeamish with gore to have played/watched the video games. I knew I could write it though, so I did my research and rewatched a couple of episodes and watched my husband play through a bit of the third game. The prompt asked for rivals to lovers, and I love that it turned out as a one-sided Yibo thinks they’re rivals, hated rivals, while Xiao Zhan has been flirting the whole 50 years they’ve known each other. The emotions after what for one was a hate handjob and for the other was the culmination of *decades* of dancing around each other was very satisfying to write. This one is special to me because it was crafted for someone else, but I also learned a lot about what I can accomplish if I want to do it.

Fireworks in the Stars

I’m extremely partial to this fic. Mostly because it’s a bit of an experiment with a world I’d like to write a full novel in (will that happen? I have no idea but it’s a goal!) So when the set of prompts from a server challenge fit the world I was playing with, I knew it was time to try to write something in it. I’m really happy with how that turned out, and it helped me figure out what worked in that world and what didn’t. I think it’s maybe my most sensuous story, with all the textures and the body paint. But I love the idea of breaking all the rules to find your love again, of meeting your special person in a situation where you're never supposed to see them again and how you can heal from that -- except the other person finds you before you can. Love it!

You Belong in my Arms & ad astra:

This feels like cheating, and maybe it is but i suppose you’ve read this far and will be okay with it, haha! So I think everyone knows that I love tentacles, and tentacle stories, so it was finally time to write my own. And guess what, as of this writing, there are still no sexy tentacles, but these boys have found each other and have yet to learn that they are each other’s fantasy. I have outlines for one last chapter, though if it gets long in the writing it may become two. I’ll write it all before publishing; I love this fic a great deal (octopus!Yibo has my entire heart) but publishing it as a wip without it being completed or at least a couple of chapters ahead has hung over me in a way that I don’t like. Each fic teaches you something about yourself I think, and that’s what I learned from this one. For ad astra, it is a Star Trek AU, which like the Witcher, I knew enough to be dangerous but also because I’d written You Can’t Rush The River I knew I could write this one too. And it was a joy, I’m in love with it still and I think I’ve read it the most out of all of my published projects.

So there we have it! Many, many days later you have my top stories I’ve written, though I do love them all and this was a bit like having to choose a favorite child. Do you have a favorite of mine? I’d love to know! Tell me about it here or on the awful site 💖

#ask #yizhan #my fic #fanfic writer

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hazelforrest · 7 days

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[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { Hazel Forrest } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { he } is ? they kind of look like { Skeet Ulrich } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 33 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { 14 years }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { Paul Callan } from { Miracles }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { The Book Nook } as a { Bookseller / Blogger }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { The Oracle } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { fretful } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { perceptive } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { one bedroom } apartment beside me over in { Seaglass Gardens }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

Biography. (TW: death, funerals, hospitalisation, illness, injury) Hazel was born exactly two minutes after his identical twin brother, Harrison. From that moment on, the two were inseparable. They had their own made-up baby language that everyone swore only they understood. They slept in the same bed, despite having separate bunks and when they had candy, they counted out the pieces to make sure they both got the same amount. Things ticked on until their mom got sick and the twins ended up having to go into the care system. Despite their pleas, the twins were separated, their last time together being the day of their mother’s funeral. They promised that the second they were able, they’d find each other again. When Hazel was sixteen, he suddenly started having strange dreams. Every single night, he’d see very specific things or hear very particular sentences. Dreams that would have him jumping awake and unable to focus for the rest of the day. Despite everyone telling him to let it go, he simply couldn’t. His dreams were compelling and he knew in his heart they had to mean something, but, he couldn’t figure out what. He began to try sleeping more, sleeping less, making himself unconscious - anything he could to regain access to these messages. This landed him in hospital many times until he aged out of the care system at eighteen. Keeping to his promise, the first thing he did was accessed public records to try and seek out his brother. However, he came to learn that Harrison had passed away two years prior. This hit him hard and he essentially squandered the rest of the year grieving and continuing to try and study his dreams, filling books upon books with random words, imagery and phrases. Deciding he couldn’t stay in his hometown, he moved to Palmview, hoping for a fresh start. He has a quiet job in The Book Nook and mostly keeps to himself. However, he is almost constantly updating his blog where he continues to this day to document his strange dreams. With access to an audience, he’s had people reach out to him claiming some of the things he wrote of were eerily accurate depictions of something that happened to them, or someone they used to know. However, for every one of those he gets, he gets a dozen more calling him a fraud or insulting him. Recently, Hazel found himself in hospital after being hit by a cyclist. He was walking home from work when suddenly images started flashing before his eyes. It caused him to stop suddenly in his tracks, resulting in the accident. It hasn’t happened again since.

#palmviewintro #// I hope this is okay!!#Hazel:Intro

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greenhikingboots · 2 years

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GreenHikingBoots on AO3

*Updated 1/24/2023* Pre-Cannon Collection A Boy in His Cups: A drunk Jon Snow, with full knowledge of the truth about his parents, attempts to convince Sansa Stark to be his lady wife. (Word Count: 5,925) Maiden in the Tower: While playing a game in the godswood, Sansa decides to teach Theon in a lesson in humility by choosing Jon to bestow with her maiden’s kiss. A story inspired by pre-canon theories. (Word Count: 2,334) That’s a Pretty Name: While dancing, Jon receives a lecture from Sansa on the importance of complimenting ladies when he first meets them. Inspired by canon quotes. (Word Count: 971) Howland Reed Makes It Happen / Political Marriage Fics Like a Winter Storm: With the Long Night behind them, it is time for Sansa and Jon to decide if they’ll marry or not. (Word Count: 3,823) Because of You: Jon learns the truth about his parentage while Sansa is at Dragonstone as his emissary. When she returns, she brings the Dragon Queen with her as well as bad news. (Word Count: 1,428) An Itchy Back and a Jar of Salve: In the middle of the night, Sansa needs help applying a salve to relieve the itching sensation all across her back. She tells herself not to go to Jon, but ends up in his solar anyway. A vulnerable, intimate, life-changing conversation follows. (Word Count: ) More of an Effort: After the truth about Jon’s parentage comes to light, Sansa agrees to marry him for the sake of the North. But it isn’t until they’ve retaken Winterfell that she finds the courage make more of an effort in the relationship. A political marriage story. (Word Count: 3,809) Out of Desire: After her friend Jeyne applies a bit of pressure, Sansa admits the full extent of her feelings for Jon, her new husband and the King in the North. (Word Count: 1,201) Wait and See: The truth about his parentage has been revealed across all of Westeros, Jon just doesn’t know it yet. All he knows when he wakes in his chambers at Castle Black, his memories jumbled and incomplete, is that he feels a deep connection with the woman taking care of him — the woman with auburn hair braided down her back. (Word Count: 3,899) 21st Century Westeros

Inevitable: Right as Jon’s on the brink of falling for Sansa, she complicates matters by asking for his help with a scheme. Take her to prom? Act like he wants to be more than friends? Watch as her scummy ex-boyfriend’s ego implodes? Sounds great. He just hopes he can keep his real feelings, the ones he’s still trying to make sense of, hidden throughout the process. (Word Count: 75,013) A Good Chance: Everyone realizes Jon has feelings for Sansa before he does, including his girlfriend Val. (Word Count: 7,953)

Crossing the Threshold: When there's not enough room in Robb's car for everyone to have their own seat, Sansa chooses Jon's lap over Theon's. A Modern AU, drunk confession of feelings fic. (Word Count: 1,578) As Content as Can Be: Jon and Sansa, who have been doing the 'riends with benefits thing while away at college, agree to “act normal” while home for the holidays. When Rickon invites Jon over for a snow day tradition, they find it difficult to stick to the plan. (Word Count: 1,088) About Damn Time: Sansa receives a simple but thoughtful gift from Jon on her twenty-first birthday. (Word Count: 914) Miscellanies / Canon Divergence Waiting Patiently to be Found: During his first night at Dragonstone, Jon wakes with a jolt. His long hidden memories come back to him in a rush, making eerie sense of dreams which have haunted him for years. In an attempt to comfort himself, he imagines Sansa by his side, listening as he explains what he overheard that day, long ago, in Winterfell’s crypts. (Word Count: 4,691) A Safe Stranger: “The owner of the Mole’s Town brothel has a gift for him. Nineteen and still a maiden, they say. And the prettiest thing in all the Seven Kingdoms.” Mix of books and show and fanfiction nonsense. (Word Count: 1,352) Mighty Better Love Dreams: As Sansa’s suspicions about Jon’s parentage increase, her romantic interest in him does to. Meanwhile, Jon tries to convince himself his feelings for Sansa are of a different quality than they really are. Part 1, Mighty Love, is Sansa’s POV. Part 2, Better Dreams, is Jon’s POV. (Word Count: 11,690 + 13,398 = 25,088) *Insider Tip* This series can also be read in the following order: ML1, BD1, ML2, BD2, ML3, and BD 3.

#jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #rec list #greenhikingboots #self rec #updated list #jon x sansa

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prongsmydeer · 2 years

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Ayesha Liveblogs Cherry Magic: The Movie

Oh my god, are they starting off this move by flashing back to them about to have sex on Christmas eve? I did NOT think it would begin immediately where the show left off. Bold choice. I love it

Fkfkfhkjfk I should’ve known they would be cockblocked by Rokkaku and chicken noodle soup. On brand. Honestly, no complaints

“Let’s go out this weekend,” thought Kurosawa directly to Adachi’s brain. Kurosawa said: Having a telepathic boyfriend is fun actually

“I’m still a wizard.” WHAT DO YOU MEAN. WHAT DID THE END OF SHOW MEAN, THEN!

Why did they cut to the marshmallows like that fantasy had deeper implications. Are the marshmallows a metaphor

Did Kurosawa purposely keep his mind blank while staring at the waterfall for Adachi so they could hold hands in peace? That’s so sweet

I wonder if this new year’s shrine visit counts as a double date:

“I won’t understand unless you put it into words.” “You were flirting with Adachi-san.” 1) Good on Tsuge, and 2) Bold of Minato to think Tsuge could ever intentionally flirt with a person

“How I truly wish that our time would last forever.” Why say it so ominously, Adachi??????

“Why did you pick me for such an important task?” “Because you’re cut out for the job. You’ve been doing well.” ADACHI you’re very good at things!! I love that his office recognizes it too

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh Adachi wanting to turn the new job transfer offer down so he doesn’t make Kurosawa sad by leaving to Nagasaki. Kurosawa wanting Adachi to take it so Adachi doesn’t lose out on this opportunity for him :(

ADACHI NOOOO DID EPISODE 11 OF CHERRY MAGIC TEACH YOU NOTHING?

I think this will be the first time we see Kurosawa sincerely upset with Adachi. Even for a man with only nice thoughts, seeing Adachi mistrust his words must weigh heavily on him

“Adachi, don’t you believe what I just told you?” Kurosawa said: Having a telepathic boyfriend isn’t fun anymore

Sorrowful split-screen separation 😭😭😭😭😭

Looked up the flight from Nagasaki to Tokyo. It’s two hours, which isn’t the worst in the world. But a long distance when u live in each other’s heart and spend most of your waking hours together

Rokkaku speaking to Kurosawa a little more softly as Adachi leaves :(

“They say the Nagasaki branch is doing well,” said the Tokyo Head Office President, not knowing that Nagasaki is a difficult topic for Kurosawa at this time

Kurosawa’s smile and heart shattering into a million pieces every time no one is looking at him!!!!!!!!!

“I’ve no idea what Kurosawa is thinking.” I do like how they’ve put them in a situation where there is no potential for touch telepathy and they have to learn new ways to communicate when things DO upset them. It’s responding to exactly the challenges mentioned in Adachi’s getting back together speech

$10 says that Kurosawa tries to go to Nagasaki when Adachi tries to go to Tokyo

ALRIGHT I OWE YOU $10 I DID NOT EXPECT ADACHI TO GET HIT BY A TRUCK

Update: He was NOT hit by a truck, just his phone was. Thank god. I should’ve known Cherry Magic would never do that to me

“I don’t remember his number.” Perils of the age of smart phones

I KNEW KUROSAWA WOULD COME TO MAKE SURE ADACHI WAS OKAY 💘💘💘💘💘

“I wasn’t okay at all.” YEAH KUROSAWA, COMMUNICATING!!

“I wanted to see you smile. To me, that’s what matters more than anything in the world.” ADACHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

THEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

You see, now I no longer know whether to trust the white undershirts as an indication of sex because you’ve now tricked me once before

“Do you regret it?” “I’m fine with it. As long as I have you.” Awwww. I still don’t know whether I believe you

Alright, alright, they seem to be serious about it this time

“Let’s live together when you come back.” AWWWWW

Since Romance Writer Tsuge and Flashy Minato do not have their own long-distance narrative to overcome, Minato has decided to self-impose one hahahaha

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, I was picking out souvenirs.” “So many people you care about.” YEAH HE DOES 💗💗💗

“A harsh word could be her way of expressing her love for you.” I don’t know if that’s good romantic advice, Adachi

“We don’t need magic. We can speak our minds and tell them how we feel, with our own words.” 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

I don’t know how they’re going to continue to hide their relationship at work when Kurosawa literally now lives in the same flat as him, shares a bed, and Rokkaku has already been to Adachi’s place and knows it’s a studio with no other room hahahaha

CHORE CHART 🥺:

“Your goal is to become Kurosawa the Second, right?” “No! Rokkaku the First!” Character development, baybeee

We have graduated to official double dates for Kurodachi and Minatsuge

Honestly, I was expecting Minato and Tsuge’s conflict to be that they are in different stages of their lives, i.e. Tsuge being 30 and ready to settle down while Minato is still in his early 20s and establishing his career, probably wanting more mobility, but I suppose that would be too much to expect in terms of their subplot hahahaha

“I have to be needed at work. So we won’t be separated unfairly when our company finds out about us.” ADACHI 🥺🥺🥺

OH MY GOD. I wasn’t expecting them to take it to the point of them being public in their relationship. Like I had the thought during the accident if Kurosawa might be listed as Adachi’s emergency contact, but that they are actually making the point that Adachi wants their loved ones to know they’re in love, because he does want the right to be notified if there’s an accident! This is an active and (I hate that it is) CURRENT political stance, because gay marriage is not legal in Japan, but same sex partnerships were ruled to be legally recognized in Tokyo this June. This is not just a narrative choice, this is indirect advocacy from the makers of this show. Not even getting to the DIRECT advocacy from the writer donating film adaption proceeds to Marriage for All Japan. Cherry Magic has never done anything wrong in its life. I’m gonna cry about it, I think

On a more light-hearted note: Kurosawa’s Meeting the Parents Resume

I CAN’T TELL IF THEY’RE SMILING BECAUSE THEY’RE HAPPY THAT ADACHI HAS BROUGHT SOMEONE HOME OR IF BECAUSE KUROSAWA IS HANDSOME

“We want to be happy together, Kiyoshi and I. Please give us your permission.” Kurosawa 💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

“Are you okay with it?” “That doesn’t matter. He’s the one you chose. Of course it’s okay.” This time I am genuinely in tears. Cherry Magic. Thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I’M SO GLAD THAT DAD AND BROTHER WERE ON BOARD TOO

I am, without exaggeration, sobbing:

“A choice made with strong determination. That’s something noble. I’m grateful to you for choosing my son Kiyoshi.” PAPA ADACHI 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AAHHHHHHH I knew that we were going to get a tougher side for the other parents. Kurosawa’s unrelenting need to please people doesn’t come from nowhere

“Those who are precious to you, are precious to me as well.” Adachi 😞💕

Adachi has come so far. This is the best movie sequel to a series I have ever seen:

THEY PANNED OUT AND THEY’RE IN FRONT OF THEIR ROMANCE BENCH

“Right now, there’s only one thing I can say I’m sure of. I love Kurosawa.” Adachi 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

“I know you don’t approve of us right now. But if it’s okay with you, we’ll wait as long as it takes.” Adachi and Kurosawa are so, so brave 💗

“Families don’t bring home souvenirs, do they?” MAMA KUROSAWA

Adachi being glad his magic is gone because it allows him to convey what he feels properly!!! You know what that is? Growth!!

PROPOSAL PART II BUT WITH RINGS BECAUSE THEY WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW THAT THEY ARE IN LOVE:

I feel insane. I have never felt so comforted and safe and done right by a story. This is my favourite movie of all time

The reaching up hands from the show intro but they are doing it together, wearing their rings... 💖!!!!!

THIS IMAGE SUMS UP HOW I FEEL:

#ayesha says things #liveblogging #ayesha liveblogs cherry magic #long post #television #japanese television #cherry magic spoilers #cherry magic movie spoilers #cmm spoilers #cherry magic #spoilers 4 the whole movie y'all

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