#Jefferson x OC

[thegreatwicked]

WIP Title Game

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @split-spectrum! Lord, my WIPs are not quite out of control BUT there are quite a few of them! I'll divide them up into two categories; fanfiction and original!

Fanfiction:

Armitage (Hux x OC)

In Service to the Night Sisters (Opress Brothers x OCs)

Moonlight Rendezvous (Maul x OC)

Padawan (Obi-Wan x Reader Insert)

50 Shades of Obi-Wan (Obi-Wan x Reader Insert)

Unbreakable Bonds (Obi-Wan x OC)

The Generals Wife (Hux x OC)

Shadows of Deception (Roman Sionis x OC)

Take off the Mask, Baby (Roman Sionis x Reader Insert)

Healing Hands (Jason Todd x OC)

Claiming the Red Hood (Jason Todd x OC)

Bayou and the Burrow (Charlie Weasley x OC)

Read to Me (Matt Murdock x OC)

We Were Cursed (Jefferson/Mad Hatter x OC)

It's No Good (Soldier Boy x OC)

Second Son (Soldier Boy x OC)

Tribute to the Horde (Dothraki OC x OC)

1001 Nights of Mischief (Loki xOC)

Professional Courtesy (DC Captain Cold x OC)

Forgive Me (Malik x OC)

Binding (Malik x OC)

Originals:

Call Me Love

Thanks for the Ride

Eternally Yours

Dive

Not your Fucking Grieving Widow

All works listed above are smut and not meant for anyone under 18. Lord give me strength to get through these WIPs before more appear!

No pressure tags! @hereticpriest @decembermidnight @burnthecheshirewitch @keffirinne @daenerys-skywalker @chaotickimchi @viskarenvisla @maulfvckers

Lets see those WIPs!

[misshiraethsworld]

DOOR IN THE HEDGE ━ once upon a time ✧

Princess Edeline of Gardenia was used to chaos. She thrived off the unknown and found solace in its fractured embrace. Since she was a young girl, darkness was all she knew, dancing night after night among strangers. She and her twelve sisters owed a debt to a being more powerful than they could have ever imagined. Every night they tried to escape, and every night they failed. They were trapped in an endless loop, searching for a way out and finding none until the portal hopper arrived. Jefferson Hatter of the Enchanted Forest was no stranger to mischief. The mischief led him to his first love and eventually to the birth of his daughter. However, he felt a void where his heart used to be. Every beat felt like a needle being pressed into a sore wound that would never heal. He wanted to provide for his only child and found that opportunity in another realm where slippers were always worn down. Jefferson and Edeline were each other's salvation and each other's doom. The Evil Queen's curse only tore into a story that was just beginning to blossom, leaving many people trapped in a land where happy endings seemed impossible. Edeline, now Davina, was unaware of her fate to dance once more as she practiced her steps daily in her dance studio. Jefferson could only look on desperation, knowing too much and yet not knowing enough to find a way to break the curse. Fairytales never end with 'Happily Ever After' ...

THE FAIRYTALE AFFLICTION coming soon!

tag family: @arrthurpendragon, @eddysocs, @darth-caillic, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @kmc1989, @ocappreciation, @ocs-supporting-ocs if you want to be added to my family, all you have to do is ask!

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Through the Looking Glass (A Jefferson Love Story) - Chapter 1

Masterlist

"Thanks for being here with me," Emma smiled, letting the 30-year-old into her home. Sarah walked into the large studio apartment, smiling back at her friend. She placed her purse down on the kitchen counter, staring out the window at the gorgeous view Emma had.

"Of course, Emma," She grinned. "No one should be alone on their birthday." The blonde smiled appreciatively. She was used to celebrating her birthdays alone, even though Sarah had been to every single one for five years now. If anything, it still caught her off guard every time she heard that knock on the door.

Emma turned away from her friend briefly to pull out the small white box she was saving in the fridge. As Sarah shrugged off her jacket and placed it on a nearby chair, she noticed the box in Emma's hands. "What did you get today?" She asked.

Emma looked up at her, opening the lid up. Inside there were two cupcakes. One vanilla with white icing and one red velvet with pink icing. "No birthday is complete without cake, I guess."

Sarah laughed at her friend's response. "I thought you were trying to stay away from sweets, otherwise I would've gotten some on the way here."

"Yeah, well," Emma shrugged, "Tonight's date with our friend pissed me off a bit."

"Did he get away from you?" Her eyes widened. She couldn't believe that anyone would get away from Emma. She had been in the business for years after all. Emma could practically catch a guy in her sleep at this point.

Emma shook her head. "Of course not, but he didn't make it easy. Let's just say it's been a long night." Sarah nodded in understanding.

Emma began to pull out candles she bought from the dollar store, placing one on her cupcake. The blue star stood proud on the white icing, ready to be lit. Sarah pulled out her lighter, something she kept with her for good luck, lighting up the candle. The wax quickly began to melt.

Emma smiled at the action. "I thought you never used that lighter. Wasn't that your whole deal about keeping it with you?"

Sarah smiled back at the woman, putting the lighter away in the pocket of her jeans. "I can use it when we need to make a wish. Maybe it'll throw a little magic in there. Perhaps it'll be a better year for you then."

Emma appreciated the thoughtful idea behind it. "If you say so," She responded.

"I sure hope so at least," Her friend laughed lightly, "Now blow out your candle before the wax drops on that icing. I want to eat my cupcake already."

Emma rolled her eyes at the girl, blowing out the candle after a moment's pause.

The flame went out quickly and the wax slowly dripped down the stick of the candle, cooling off rapidly. A flash of disappointment went through Emma, as if she expected something more to happen right then and there. Sarah knew it was the fact that Emma went through yet another year of not knowing who her family was. The blonde was never one to talk about it, but there was still a part of her who longed for that kind of connection with someone. Having a friend was great, but it simply wasn't the same as knowing who your family is, or celebrating the holidays with them.

Sarah rose her cupcake up in the air, waiting for Emma to meet her in the middle. Emma silently held the cupcake up, clinking them together lightly, causing the icing to mix in a small part of the cupcake. The two laughed at the stupidity of the action. Before they could take a bite though, the doorbell rang. Both of the girls were shocked to hear it, especially so late at night. It was already close to the end of the evening, so who could be there?

Emma walked to the door, opening it enough to see who was there. She leaned her arm against the doorframe, looking down at the kid in front of her. He couldn't be more than ten years old, but he was alone. "Can I help you?" She asked him.

"Are you Emma Swan?" He asked, looking up at her. He looked almost eager for the answer, as if he knew it already.

"Yeah, who are you?"

"My name's Henry. I'm your son." He smiled up at her. She stared at him with a blank expression on her face, trying to process what he just said. How would that be possible?

Before she had a chance to move, Henry ducked underneath her arm, entering the apartment. Emma began to protest, closing the door behind her. He walked towards the table, where Sarah looked up from her phone to see him. "Who are you?" She asked, watching the kid.

"I'm Henry. Emma's my mom," He smiled at Sarah.

"Kid, I don't have a son," Emma said, walking over towards Henry and Sarah. "Where are your parents?"

"Ten years ago, did you give up a baby for adoption? That was me."

Sarah's eyes darted up immediately to Emma, waiting for her response. Emma seemed to freeze at the question, remembering what happened a decade ago. She had never told Sarah what happened while she was in jail. It never seemed relevant, so she never mentioned it. She wanted to keep it in the past, hoping she would never have to face it. "Give me a minute," Emma quickly said before running to the bathroom.

The brunette woman looked over at Henry once again, searching his face for similar features. "Where did you come from?" She asked him.

"Maine," He said casually, as if he was only ten minutes away. Her eyes widened at his answer.

"Did you get here by yourself?" Henry ignored the question, opting to walk over to the fridge in search of something.

"Hey, do you have any juice?" He called out to Emma, waiting impatiently for her to leave the bathroom. He opened the door, scanning the contents of the fridge. "Never mind, found some," He pulled out a small container of orange juice. Sitting back down at the table next to Sarah, he waited for Emma to walk back out.

When Emma came back, Henry wasted no time in telling her, "You know, we should probably get going."

"Going where?" She questioned, watching Henry take a sip of the orange juice.

"I want you to come home with me."

"Okay, kid, I'm calling the cops," Emma began to walk over across the room.

"And I'll tell them you kidnapped me."

She looked down at the phone in her hands and then back up at Henry. "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother."

"Yep."

"You're not gonna do that."

"Try me." The two had a staring contest as Emma broke into a small smile.

"You're pretty good, but here's the thing. There's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying," Emma said as she began to dial the number into the phone. Sarah bit back a laugh, watching them. It was clear they had to have been related just from this very conversation.

"Wait, please don't call the cops. Please come home with me." He begged.

"Where's home?" Sarah asked him. If Emma wasn't willing to go with him, Sarah at least wanted to make sure he would be safe. He reminded her too much of her own daughter.

"Storybrooke, Maine."

"Storybrooke? Seriously?" Emma glanced over at Sarah, as if she was trying to figure out if she was buying it either.

Henry nodded, hoping that she would go. Sarah shrugged, as if to say, "It's up to you." Emma pursed her lips, looking back at Henry.

"Alrighty, then. Let's get you back to Storybrooke."

_

Lucy sighed, scanning the field for the best place to rest for the day. After a long day of exploring the Enchanted Forest, she needed a break from everyone. She used far too much magic in one day trying to collect valuables she could use to sell to other people. Maybe one day she would be able to get a solid job that would help her stabilize her life, but that wouldn't be anytime soon unfortunately.

Sitting down in the grass, she watched as a woman rode her horse on the other side, a large smile on her face. She smiled, wishing that she would be able to do something similar one day. Her life simply didn't make it easy for her to have that kind of opportunity. Looking down at her hands, she saw the dirt and blood on them from earlier today. She had to make a break for it when some of the guards caught her stealing from a vendor. Thankfully it wasn't anyone else's blood, only her own after slipping down a hill. She took a moment to wipe it on her skirt, trying to clean up her hands.

She heard a horse approaching her, looking up and realizing that the woman was approaching her. Her dark hair seemed to be falling out of her braid, most likely from a long day of riding. There was a small smile on her face, preparing to greet the stranger. "Hello," The woman said, "What are you doing out in this field?"

Lucy smiled back at the woman, standing up so she wasn't covered by the tall grasses surrounding her. She brushed off her maroon skirt, realizing she had covered it in flecks of dirt and leaves. The white tunic she wore was surely just as dirty, if not dirtier. "I was simply looking for a place to rest. Is there something wrong?" She asked, hoping she didn't just stumble upon owned land. She didn't want to have to run once again.

"Not at all," She shook her head. "I was just curious," She said as she hopped off the horse, holding the reigns. "We don't have visitors around here often."

As the woman approached her, Lucy looked up at the horse, noticing how well kept he was. Clearly this woman must've come from money of some sort. "What a beautiful horse. Do you ride often?"

"I do. It's the only thing that keeps me sane some days," She laughed. Lucy's smile widened.

"I understand that feeling. It's why I like to write when I have the chance."

"You write? What do you write about?"

Lucy shook her head before responding. "Nothing much. Just adventures I've been on, adventures I want to be on, and anything else in between. It always depends on the day. I keep them to myself though. It's the one way I can be myself fully, without anyone else judging."

The woman nodded solemnly. There was a moment of silence before she decided to change the subject. "So," She started, "What's your name?"

"My name is Lucy," She smiled, holding her hand out for the woman to shake. "And what's yours?"

The woman released her grip on the reigns, taking Lucy's hand.

"My name is Regina."

~

The three sat in the car in almost pure silence for the first few minutes of the drive. There was a casual conversation between Emma and Sarah, mostly Emma making sure that she was willing to go on the drive with her. Going from Boston to Storybrooke was a decent road trip, meaning they wouldn't be back in Boston until 3 or 4 AM at best. Sarah reassured her it was necessary, although she refused to explain to Emma why exactly.

"I'm hungry," Henry eventually spoke up, interrupting the few moments of quiet they shared. "Can we stop somewhere?"

"This is not a road trip, we're not stopping for snacks," Emma said, glancing back at him through the mirror.

"Why not?"

"Quit complaining, kid. Remember, I could've put your butt on a bus; I still could."

"You know, I have a name? It's Henry."

Sarah laughed quietly at the exchange between the two. As she looked back at Henry briefly through the side mirror, she noticed the book he was holding. "What's that?" She asked, trying to start conversation.

"I'm not sure either of you are ready," Henry shook his head.

"Ready?" She turned around in her seat, looking back now at the book. It was a simple brown book, the cover clearly indicating it was fairy tales. "For fairy tales?"

"They're not fairy tales. They're true. Every story in this book actually happened."

"Of course they did," Emma muttered.

"Use your superpower. See if I'm lying," Henry huffed. Emma turned around for a moment to look at him. Sarah watched as Emma turned back to face the street, smiling when she knew Emma couldn't claim he was lying.

"Just because you believe something doesn't make it true."

"That's exactly what makes it true. You should know more than anyone."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're in this book." Henry looked at Emma and then looked over at Sarah, "And so are you."

"Oh, kid. You've got problems."

"Yup. And you're going to fix them." He beamed. Emma looked over at Sarah, rolling her eyes. Sarah stared on at the road, trying to figure out what she just got herself into.

[dreadheadmadi]

- I’M GONNA CLAW THOSE PRETTY LIL’ EYES OUT

A/N: Trying something new, we’ll see how this goes. I’m a college girlie, so updates are slow‼️

Parings: aaron davis x black! reader, the prowler x black cat! reader

Warnings: action, fighting, blood, gore, descriptive language, death, etc. (I will update as I go)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

[countrymusiclover]

9 - A Man Named Jefferson

Princess Red Thief

Part 10

Tag list - just ask to be added @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35

Blinking my eyes a couple of times I groaned trying to wake up. Slowly glancing around the room I saw I was in the back room of the pawnshop. Shifting my body up further on the old cot I heard the wooden floor creak under someone's feet. "Eve! You're awake."

"Henry. What are you doing here?" Rubbing my eyes to wake myself up more I saw the ten year old boy enter the room.

He answered me. "I heard you being locked up in the hospital until Mr. Gold bailed you out."

"Yeah. Where is Mr. Gold exactly?" I questioned the kid.

Henry came over to my bedside reaching inside his backpack. "He's out with Regina for some reason. So we don't have much time to talk with somebody you need to meet."

"Henrh, I just woke up. I am not really in the mood to meet someone right now." I sat upright holding a hand to my forehead struggling to push away some pain that must have been caused from all the drugs they pushed into my system.

He held open his storybook to a certain page. "But what if I told you there's someone else in this town that has been seeing things just like you."

"And that person in your book would be?" I trailed off scanning my eyes over the book pages seeing a man surrounded with over a dozen hats.

Henry taped a finger on the image. "The Mad Hatter. He goes by Jefferson here."

"Henry...I. You need to leave before he gets back. He doesn't care for unwanted visitors inside his shop." I warned the ten year old.

He didn't back down, shoving his book back inside the bag. He holds out his hands waiting for me to put my hand in his and follow him willingly like I normally did before I was locked away. "Please Eve. You'll start to believe me once you talk with him. I swear."

"Fine, kid. But this doesn't mean I believe you." I put my hands in his getting to my feet and together we slipped outside of the pawnshop in search of where this Jefferson man lived. "Henry, why do you think I will believe before Emma?"

He kept walking, sending me a half smile. "Because you follow your heart more than what your mind tells you." I parted my lips considering what he was saying to me in the moment.

The double doors shut behind me with two guards shutting them. I had decided to keep living in my parents castle which wasn't too far from the Charming castle. My short brown boots clicked against the stone floor until I stood at the edge of the round table to meet Snow. "Everly. I was hoping I'd see you."

"My parents aren't worried about me. Honestly they trust me when it comes to helping y'all with your kingdom. You're glowing by the way." I sent her a smile pulling out one of the chairs near hers.

She was sitting down in one of the head chairs, leaning her elbows on the table. "Thank you, Eve. Your letter said that you wanted to talk with me about something."

"Indeed I do wish to. I've been having certain feelings lately and since we are friends I was hoping we could talk about them." I twiddled my thumbs together on the table.

Snow asked sweetly. "Of course. Is this about a guy?"

"Is it that obvious?"

She nods, chuckling. "I'm sorry to say yes. Besides it's not like I don't remember you saying you always had teaching lessons to return to."

"Oh geeesss." Covering my face with my hands I was blushing like a red tomato.

Snow clasped her hands together. "So who is the stranger you are getting lessons from?"

"It's magic lessons. The man I'm getting taught by is named Rumplestilskin." Heavy silence fell across the large room with an intense feeling falling between the two of us. Everyone in the land generally knew his name and what kind of magic he dabbled in.

"Everly, he...he uses dark magic."

"I know that." I said back. "But I am needing his help to teach me how to control the power that I was born with. Neither of my parents have magic, yet I somehow got it."

"You have feelings for him, don't you. Why else would you be defending the teachings he is showing you." Snow put the pieces together with a smirk on her lips.

"Maybe I do. What do I do about it?" I asked the other princess in the room.

The former bandit princess got up from her chair and I rose to my feet standing up in front of her. "In my experience you just have to follow whatever your heart tells you."

"Even when the person you care about might not feel the same." I knitted my brows at her, wrapping my father’s red cloak tightly around my body.

Snow takes my hands in hers showing me the wedding ring from her Prince Charming. "That's a risk that we each have to take when we love someone. Never stop following your heart, Everly."

"Henry, are you sure we're not breaking and entering? It doesn't even look like he's here. Emma is the sheriff now and I wish to not be placed inside a prison cell anytime soon." Looking around at the area outside the mansion front door. He had pulled out some set of keys he had taken from his mother's office that could open any door.

He pushed one of the keys in the hole and it unlocked with the door swinging open. "We'll be fine. He believes everything about my book. Now come on. Jefferson!" Henrik walks into the house and I follow after him seeing that it was almost pitch black inside giving the creepy loner type guy vibes to me.

"Henry. Henry, wait we can't just - mmm!" I grunted my fighting instincts kicking in when one hand wrapped around my waist and the other hand clasped over my mouth before the front door slammed shut behind me.

A man's voice growled in my ear. "Did anyone follow you?"

"No." I mumbled the best reply I could trying to remove the stranger's hand.

The man removed his hands from my body, spinning me around to face him. "So you're the famous Red Thief who falls in love with the Dark One."

"You've read the story too." I made a confused expression.

The guy named Jefferson responded. "It's more than just a story and his storybook is more than just a book."

"It can't be more than a book. None of those stores are real. I know they are simply just stories." I shake my head thinking back on why I got put in the mental hospital in the first place.

Henry spoke up behind me heading down the hallway. "She's a little slow, Jefferson. That's why I brought her to you. So she'll wake up like you have." Jefferson grabs a hold of my arm dragging me after the young boy until we entered a room filled with hats that all matched the familiar hat the Mad Hatter would have worn.

"You've obviously got an obsession with Alice in Wonderland."

"He's the Mad Hatter, Eve." Henry declares sitting the book on the table, opening it to the page he had shown me back in the shop.

Jefferson pushed me down in the chair with the book laying in front of my face. He flipped through some pages stopping at one photo that showed Rumplestilskin holding up a ring. The woman who wore a red cloak that looked like the one I owned stood in front of him. "Look at the picture and tell me if you recognize anything."

"Jefferson, Henry has already tried this with me once before. It didn't work then, it won't work now." Shifting around in the chair I eyed the man.

Jefferson rounded the table to be on the other side grabbing my chin in between his thumb and index finger so I'd look him in the eye. "Use your power and look into my mind. Then you'll see what I'm saying is the only truth you need to believe."

"Look into your mind. That's not possible."

Jefferson declared not backing down. "You have to open your mind, Red Thief."

"You're losing your mind, Jefferson." Pushing myself away from him he let go of my chin. Stomping towards the doorway about to leave I halted in my tracks grabbing a hold of the doorway when he spoke up about my past.

"You couldn't pay your rent when you first came here. So you made a deal with Mr. Gold. Take my ring and I'll work for you, you said."

Glancing out the corner of my eye I asked. "How do you know about that? He swore he'd never say anything."

"Because it's almost the exact same deal you made with Rumplestilskin after he agreed to teach you magic. You are Princess Everly, daughter of Abigail and Fredrick." Henry stands by the edge of the table.

Shutting my eyes I pushed back the desire to believe them. I couldn't be a princess. I couldn't have magic and the town couldn't all be cursed. Otherwise I belonged back in the mental hospital. "Henry, I'm sorry but all your saying is nonsense."

"It won't all be nonsense once you look for the necklace inside his suit jacket and...." Jefferson trailed off in thought.

Turning around in my boots I dared to ask the question. "And what Jefferson?"

"And you'll believe us when you find the ring in his possession." The man who truly thought he was the Mad Hatter answered my question, sitting one of his hats on top of his head smiling wickedly at me. Henry remained silent and simply nodded in agreement. "As close to his heart as it could possibly be."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[latibvles]

true north.

and we’re back! a little late but I plan on doing all ten prompts TRUST AND BELIEVE! on that note, this next one is wedding — so here’s inez, post-war, where the invitation to a wedding between friends pushes her to leave the nest for a third time. luckily alex’s door is always open. tagging @upontherisers for listening to me rock back and forth over them. I did an embarrassing amount of googling about trains for this one that's how you KNOW it got serious.

—

Maybe it’s not fair of her to say that the invite is what did her in.

No, the invitation was the most expected part of this — going to June and Benny’s wedding sounds and feels more normal than most things. It was always going to turn out this way, wasn’t it? A big wedding with everyone there, practically acting both as a celebration and a reunion. Most who wanted to keep contact, kept it, Inez herself included — but knowing June and Benny, they probably went the extra mile anyway to hunt down those who had disappeared.

The combination of June’s fierce determination and Benny’s kindness is a force in its own right.

Maybe it’s just the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Maybe it’s that Inez is walking into her family’s living room, and telling her mother she’ll be going to Chicago in next May for the ceremony — and then has to remind her who June Cielinski is.

“What classes didja have? Y’never told me about her!” She’s bouncing Judith on her knee — who’s entranced with her father’s car keys at the moment. Inez’s jaw clenched.

“No ma she’s— she’s from my crew. She was our bombardier.”

There’s a click of her mother’s tongue, a feigned recollection of a June and an unrelated anecdote about how she’d always liked that name, how it was a contender before they decided on Judith for her baby sister, who looks at Inez and smiles, showing off a missing tooth.

So maybe it’s not the invitation itself, but the reminders that stem from it. Everything, from the moment she set her bag down in her family’s doorway, has felt unequivocally wrong. She loves her family — Inez is sure of that — but maybe there was a reason Ben married so quickly and then moved all the way to Texas that Inez is only just now seeing. The only things that feel right are the things she’s done that are separate from this house.

The collection of letters she keeps under her bed, namely. She’d asked for Alex’s address impulsively, not expecting him to so willingly give it over. But he did — tore a page from his sketchbook and scribbled it for her, and she’d kept that piece of paper tucked in her pocket from the camp, to Paris, to London, all the way back here, until it was crumpled beyond recognition and the writing faded with time. That was when he was still living at home. Now they wrote pretty regularly, back and forth, which was… nice.

With a little help from his parents and after figuring out his finances, he’d gotten himself a place a little bit out of the city. I love Detroit, he writes, but I think the quiet’s doing me some good. Sometimes, he sends drawings. He tells her about how he’s thinking of picking up teaching, now that he’s in the Reserve, and she tells him to go for it. He’d be good at it. He has the patience for children.

She tells him about Judith, and how the baby takes after their brother Ben more than herself. She tells him about the job she’s picked up at the schoolhouse, as a teacher’s assistant and how grateful she is that she could find work after all this. She doesn’t tell him about how out of place she feels, how stuck she is. Some things you just don’t say through a letter, and some things you just don’t say at all.

That all sounds great, he writes, I’m happy for you, and she knows he means it. You spend roughly nine months with someone, you can usually deduce whether or not they’re saying things just to be nice or not. Alex doesn’t just say things to placate people. If you ever find yourself coming this way, my door’s always open.

She hopes he means that, too. If this were five years ago, leaving home might’ve been terrifying to her. Now though, it was thoroughly scratched from the list of things that made her sick to her stomach.

My invite to Benny and June’s wedding came in, she writes.

Mine too. Looking forward to seeing everybody, he writes back.

That’ll be May of next year. A nice spring wedding in Chicago — because some people really do have it all figured out. Inez is not one of them. Part of her, pessimistically so, thinks that she never will be. She’s not resentful of her friends for moving on with their lives. She’s just angry that she can’t seem to do it herself.

It’s funny how she can reach her limit and still endure. The AAF taught her that. She packs a bag, but it goes untouched in the back of her closet for two whole weeks. At the very least — it’s enough time to pocket an extra check.

It’s enough time to say that she’s thought it through. To have an epiphany — to come to terms with it. At least she remained time conscious despite the changes she went through. She was molded into a pot but cast so quickly that there’s a crack in her now that feels impossible to ignore.

Leaving feels more natural to her than staying, even if she’ll end up coming back to this place in a few days. That much she knows of. But as of right now, this house feels like a bird cage with the door left open; her parents were probably just waiting for her to leave.

She heads to the train station after helping her mom wash dishes, after Judith’s gone to bed. Inez doesn’t announce her leaving like she might’ve in the past. She just takes one of Alex’s letters and walks the length of the beaten old sidewalks until she makes it to the station. The last time she was here, she was happy to be home. Now leaving brings a strange sort of relief.

It’s three different trains she’ll have to take. She’d probably end up on his doorstep in the afternoon if her math is right. And it usually is.

Inez tries, feebly, to sleep on the first train — from Nashville to Louisville, but some habits she just can’t seem to break. Thorpe Abbotts and the air raids made her a light sleeper, and the Stalag made it worse. She jerks back into consciousness with every bump, every coo of a baby, every high pitched squeal of the rails when they roll into a station. She’s always half expecting to wake up in that block again to Savorre grunting in suppressed pain, or Harrie right next to her, face shoved into the flimsy pillows to muffle whatever onslaught of tears was overtaking her.

It’s never that, though. It’s always the dim lights of the train car, the quiet murmurings of its occupants, her bag clutched tightly to her chest like it was a person because she didn’t want to fumble with shoving it in the space above her. She’d rather have a familiar weight in her lap. Inez would hardly call it sleep, more like sporadic naps, broken up by her snaps into being awake and trying to make some sense of what state she’s in to little avail. She hits Louisville at 2:00am.

There’s still time for her to turn back but, well, that doesn’t exactly make much sense. Doesn’t sit right with her, so she doesn’t.

About halfway through the second train that takes her from Kentucky to Ohio — she’s a livewire really, bouncing her knee, rustling through her bag for a book Jo sent her a couple weeks ago. As 4am ebbs into 5am and the night sky starts shifting into the gray-blue of dawn, she’s becoming more and more restless, and by the time she’s getting on that last train in Ohio that’ll take her to Detroit, she can’t help but wonder if this is a terrible idea.

Her nail beds, already the subject of her merciless picking, are a nightmare to look at and she wonders if she can get away with keeping her hands hidden in the pockets sewn into her skirt once she gets there. If she gets there. She could ask about direct routes back home the moment she hits the station and it’d be like she was never even here. She hugs her bag tighter to herself, like it would provide her some comfort.

And by the time she hits Detroit, it’s almost noon, and the city is busy, and Inez is reminded vaguely of pins in a map — of her old pilot who’d smiled as she put her pin right in the heart of it. Yeah, this makes sense, is really the only conclusion she comes to as she tries to hail down a cab. She half expects her pilot to be the driver.

It isn’t though. His name is Frank. He’s nice. For the thirty minute drive out from Detroit to a more suburban area, something that looks a little more like home, he tells her about how business has really been booming in the past year with all the soldiers coming back from overseas.

He asks if she knew everyone who served. She nods and dismisses it with a “feels like everybody knows somebody,” that makes him smile and laugh in agreement.

But talking to Frank doesn’t much prepare her for pulling up to the house that matched the address in her pocket. It’s a small house with a bright green lawn — white siding and a small porch, a pair of work boots by the front door. A bag of fertilizer. No flowers in the boxes yet though. She can feel her heart in her throat as the cab pulls off and she stares at the path up for a long, silent moment.

It feels right, being here, but he could easily tell her to go away. What was she even supposed to say? Anything she could come up with sounded petulant. My mother forgot who June was so I left. My house feels like a cage. My parents keep pretending I didn’t go to war and it sucks. She eyes one of the spindly cracks working its way through the pavement and her hands ball into fists, her bag feeling impossibly heavy. She should go home. She could walk it, she was paying attention the whole drive over. It’s only noon, there’s gotta be a direct train from here t—

The sound of the screen door rattling as it opens and shuts is familiar. Her gaze snaps up.

Alex is in a white singlet and jeans, wiping his hands with a dirty rag when he catches her. The shock on his face is evident, then the confusion.

“Inez?” She thinks he’s beelining it towards her, but he stops by his mailbox first, opening it. “Did I– Did I miss a letter? I didn’t know you were—”

“No. No I just…” Inez cringes as she lets go of her bag and it lands beside her feet with a gentle thump, but she can’t help picking at her hands. “You said your door’s always open so I…” Her mouth opens and closes like a fish, scrambling for some explanation beyond a simple it feels right, coming here. He’s coming towards her now, with the familiar, friendly smile, and relief washes over her as he looks over her face, then reaches down to take her bag.

“How long are you here for?” he asks then, moving on from her shoddy explanation.

“I… I don’t know,” she admits, rubbing the nape of her neck. “It was a little bit of spontaneous decision making.” She elects to withhold the fact that instead of waiting until the next day for the next direct ride to Detroit, she’d taken three trains. That it was hardly impulsive when she had three train rides to think about it, and going home just didn’t sit right with her.

“Well you let me know when you find out. I’d hug you but…” He gestures to the state of him — dirt stains on the front of his white singlet, sweat from the August heat shining on his skin. Inez laughs, a little breathlessly and nods in agreement.

“Didn’t know you were a gardener.”

“I’m not. My mama says the front of the house looks too plain so she bought me a bunch of flowers to put in the front.” He lets her walk in front of him until they reach the door, and then he’s getting the door for her to let her into the small living room, bleeding into a kitchen. A couple dishes laid out on a towel on the counter, a blanket tossed over a moss-colored couch. The windows are open, letting in a breeze. She assumes the hallway leads to his bedroom.

“I can help with that,” Inez offers as he sets her bag by the door. “The flowers.”

He smiles at that, something wide and warm and familiar in a way that doesn’t hurt — and Inez finds herself smiling back.

[ashandkatiewrite]

New Story Alert!

a twist of fate

Written by: @katiekinswrites + @if-you-onlyknew

SUMMARY: One fateful day, Jefferson's father, the Dark One's portal jumper, doesn't return from a job. Taken by force a week later, Jefferson learns that his father's captor and murderer is an evil sorcerer who is guardian to a young princess, Odette of Swan Lake, who has been kept prisoner in her own kingdom. Now a young portal jumper himself, Jefferson sneaks into the castle over the years to spend time with the trapped princess and to tell her of his wild adventures in lands she can only imagine, and to hope that one day she will agree to leave with him and escape her tormentor.

A story about a life built between two people that have nothing in common but love at first sight, a thirst for adventure, and the obstacles that attempt to keep them apart over time and across lands.

Enchanted Forest to Cursed!Storybrooke.

Read the story on AO3.

TAGLIST: @acabecca • @arrthurpendragon • @cas-verse • @cjand10 • @darkwolf76 • @darylandbethfanforever9 • @eddysocs • @jewishbarbies • @ocappreciationtag • @sassysophiabush • @scarletwidoww • @seb-soph • @starcrossedjedis • @thatmagickjuju

[rachelmasterss]

Every story can have a happy ending

[0c70pus0fd3sp41r]

so i saw two of my friends did a craig and a octavio version of these so here’s a rumtums version

[pantherastevens]

His Sunshine in the Darkness: It All Started With Her Smile

Hello everyone~ I'm back, and it's with a new little series (technically, it's really just one extremely long story, but I broke it up in parts because if not, this post would be dumb long). I literally read two Yandere!Miles fics and kinda been obsessed with the idea (?) ever since.

Here are the two works, written by the lovely @l0v3morales (please write more of these, I'm begging you):

Stay With Me

Yours Forever

Thus I present to you, His Sunshine in the Darkness: Part One! This will most likely be divided into three parts (because I'm still writing this story, I'm currently at 12,838 words and counting. Buckle up kiddies, this is gonna be a long one).

I title Part One, "It All Started With Her Smile." I'm gonna ease y'all in with some fluff. Enough of me rambling. Enjoy!

Warnings: None, unless you're allergic to fluff

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

It all started with her smile.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was the new kid at Visions. It was the middle of the recorded school year, and he was a new kid. He wasn't a huge fan of the school, but his parents insisted it would be good for him... whatever that meant.

The first few days, he pretty much kept to himself. Socializing wasn't his strong suit, and he didn't desire to make a fool of himself in front of his new classmates, who seemed to understand that he didn't belong like the rest. It just so happened the school was "wise" enough to recognize he had a brain and offer him a scholarship to be there. His only escapes were his dorm (Ganke seemed like a cool enough guy), his home, and his art class.

Miles loved to draw more than anything. Whether it was his pencils, markers, or his uncle's spray paints, he found his freedom—the freedom to be himself.

And she noticed it, too.

Panthera Stevens was a fellow freshman who shared quite a few classes with him—including art. Upon seeing her for the first time, Miles swore Cupid must've stabbed him when he wasn't paying attention because he must've died and was meeting one of God's angels.  She had to be the prettiest girl that he'd ever seen. Smooth dark chocolate skin, thick dark shoulder-length sunbleached locs, naturally full, thick brows, plump lips, and almond-shaped expresso-colored eyes. She was on the short side, about 5'5 if Miles had to guess. While Miles was raised to be a gentleman, he was still a teenage boy. He had eyes and could see that Panthera was slowly developing a sweet little figure. He admired the girl from afar, seeing how he wasn't sure how to approach the beauty (Miles didn't care what his uncle said. The "hey" trick had to be the stupidest and most embarrassing thing he'd ever heard).

So you could imagine the boy's surprise when he heard the screech of a chair being pulled up next to him and found her big dark brown eyes staring into his soul.

"Hey, you're Miles, right," she said with a smile. The boy could feel his face heating up at the sight.

'She even has dimples... Buen Dios Todopoderoso, ella es tan linda...'

"U-uh... yeah, that's me," he said, fidgeting with his pencil. Panthera giggled, making the boy's blush worse.

"Nice to meet you, Miles. I'm Panthera. I couldn't help but notice that you're always by yourself and... well, I was wondering if you wanna be friends," she said; a bit of shyness could be seen in that smile. The boy blinked owlishly at her.

His crush wanted to be friends with him? The awkward, quiet new kid?

"I'm sorry. Was I being too forward?" Panthera asked softly, mistaking the boy's silence for rejection. Miles mentally slapped himself, urging his mouth to form words.

"N-No! Not at all. I-I would love to be friends with you!" That could've come out much smoother, but it still did the job.

Panthera Stevens's smile could rival the sun at that very moment, and Miles wanted to bask in its warmth forever.

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

Panthera and Miles became close friends very quickly. They would have study sessions at least three times a week and pretty much hung out every other weekend. Miles brought her to meet his parents toward the end of their freshmen year.

As expected, Panthera was the perfect angel. She came to the apartment in one of the prettiest dresses he'd ever seen with a bouquet in hand.

He always remembers her soft laugh at his dumbfounded expression.

"What are you staring at, Mi?" God, that nickname will always make his stomach explode with butterflies...

"I-uh, it's j-just that..." Panthera blinked those pretty eyes at him, waiting for him to finish.

"You look so beautiful, gatita," Miles muttered breathlessly. Panthera did a cute, shy shuffle. A sweet smile was on those soft lips.

"Thank you, Mi. My Baba always told me a good first impression is everything." Miles nodded mindlessly, eyes still trained on her lips.

"Mijo? Is that your friend at the door? Don't keep her waiting now!" Rio's voice broke the boy's trance, and he promptly ushered the girl inside. Miles secretly smiled as the girl slid off her shoes and left them by the front door, already knowing his parents would like that.

The meeting went even better than the young boy expected. Panthera greeted his parents with the same smile as when they first met. She called them by their last names. She gifted his mother with the bouquet, who happily accepted the flowers—even going as far as explaining the meaning of each one.

"I wanted to find something to represent the family you two built. The Black-Eye Susans represent justice, seeing how you live to serve and protect Mr. Morales. The Daylilies represent the Chinese emblem for the mother of the home, something you're doing such a wonderful job at, Mrs. Morales. And finally, the honeysuckle represents your love for each other and your son. I hope you like them."

The more his parents talked with the girl, the more taken they were with her. Rio insisted that she stay for dinner, which Panthera gracefully accepted. As the two women entered the kitchen, Miles turned to find his father looking down at him with a knowing smile and a teasing glint in his eye.

"You know, son, you seem pretty taken by Panthera... you sure you two are just friends?" Jefferson did his best not to laugh too hard at the sight of his son's red face.

"C'mon papá, stop it. W-we're just friends, nothing more," Miles huffed, not without shooting a glance of longing at the kitchen.

Panthera and his mamá seemed to chat joyfully, Panthera even stepping alongside Rio to help cook dinner. Rio's green eyes glowed with approval as she taught the girl how to make Mofongo.

God, if that didn't do funny things to his heart...

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

Miles knew his feelings were getting stronger by the day in their sophomore year. There wasn't a sketchbook he now owns that didn't have a sketch of Panthera somewhere among the pages. After meeting her, Rio insisted he bring Panthera around as often as possible. His room started carrying the faint smell of her and her vanilla and cocoa musk perfume.

If he cuddled his pillow that carried the scent of her hair oil that smelt like honey and cocoa butter, that shouldn't be anyone's business but his own.

The boy had it bad.

Everyone in his family could see it.

Uncle Aaron had demanded that he introduce the girl he was partially head over heels in love with (Miles can't even deny it anymore; it's been at least a year). Only to find out it was Eric's little girl, whom Aaron had basically adopted as his niece when she and her father first came to Brooklyn. The man was ecstatic, privately telling Miles that Panthera would make a kickass future wife. Miles nearly screamed that he was too young to think about that (even though that thought has passed his mind... multiple times).

She was invited to his dad's party to celebrate his upcoming position of becoming the Police captain. It was a little embarrassing having his family coo and giggle at the two of them, excitingly asking Miles if she was his girlfriend. Panthera was nice enough not to laugh out loud at the permanent blush that settled on his cheeks.

Miles thought his head would explode when his mom had the DJ play a song with everyone breaking into couples to dance bachata. 

"C'mon, Miles! You could dance with Panthera," Rio encouraged as she danced with her husband, who looked a little awkward trying to keep up with his wife's graceful movements. Panthera cocked her head at the boy, reminding him of the animal he, oh so fondly, nicknamed her.

"I don't mind dancing with you... but I don't want to step on your toes," Panthera offered. Miles focused on the girl, not the heat melting his face.

"I doubt you could do that, gatita. I could show you some basic steps," Miles said. Panthera nodded, relaxing as she allowed the Afro-Latino to guide her through the dance. Once she felt she got a feel of it, she was able to flow much easier with the boy. Miles' could feel his heart pounding away at his ribcage as he twirled the girl under his arm before holding the beauty close once more.

"I don't think I ever told you how beautiful you look tonight, gatita," Miles said softly as he rested his forehead against hers. Panthera's dark eyes twinkled at him.

"Thank you, Mi. I asked my dad to take me shopping for the occasion. Since I was gonna meet more of your family and all," she said shyly. Miles couldn't help but drink at the sight of her for the umpteenth time that night.

"I'm going have to send him a thank you card then. Not for just the outfit but for siring the most beautiful girl of all of Brooklyn," he said, a flirty grin tugging on his lips. Panthera laughed freely, the sound reverberating deep in her throat.

"Mi! Such a flirt," she giggled as she was spun about yet again. The girl seemed at peace, humming contentedly as she felt the heat of Miles' palms bleed through the material of her dress. Miles couldn't help the easygoing smile tugging on his lips as he lost himself in the music and those sparkling eyes.

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

"Your dad's speech was beautiful." Miles turned to look at the girl next to him. The pair decided to get some air from all the people. Panthera was looking out at the party lighting up the rooftop, her face glowing from the bright lights. Miles knew this image of her would be the newest addition to his sketchbook later that night when everyone went home, and he was alone in his room.

"Yeah, it was," Miles said softly. Panthera turned to him, reaching up to cup Miles' face with her hands.

'So soft...' Miles thought as he was pulled to Panthera's height. Puberty finally decided to be nice to him these past few months and give him some inches, much to Panthera's annoyance.

"Something in me is telling me to say this, so listen to me for a second, yeah?" Panthera could be reading dictionary definitions to him, and he would still hang onto her every word like he was now.

"Y-Yeah, sure. Anything for you, princesa," Miles mumbled. Panthera chuckled and shook her head at the nickname. Miles could tell he managed to fluster her a little, which he joyfully counted as a win.

"Never for one moment think you're alone. You have beautiful parents who love you more than life itself. You have a dope ass uncle who considers you his own son. And you have me. I wasn't sure what would happen the first day I sat next to you in art class, but I can say this is something I cherish deeply. You will always have me, Miles. Even if you feel like the world is crashing down around you... when you feel as if you have no one left... when you want to fall into the darkness... I'll be there to shield you as best I can. I'll be there to hold your hand. I'll be there to show you the light. I love you, Mi. Always." Miles felt his heart stall.

'I love you, Mi...'

Miles knew that Panthera could just be confessing her love for him as a friend, but his lovesick brain wouldn't let him see it as such. He wants to believe that Panthera sees him as something more. See them as something more.

Miles' shaky hands found Panthera's waist, tugging her closer.

"T-Thank you, Panthera... a-and I-I love you too," the boy whispered, breathless by the sheer intensity of it all. Her eyes, her warmth, her scent, her lips-

Miles nervously licked his own as he focused on Panthera's. So many times, he's daydreamed and dreamed about those lips. Full, soft, and oh so kissable. He often saw her put on some tinted lip oil (she barely believes in chapstick, only having one or two as a backup) which made them all the more enticing. It made the boy wonder what flavors she uses and how good she'll taste.

He may have kissed his pillow pretending it was Panthera for practice, but again, that was nobody's business but his own.

Miles leaned in, gauging the girl's reaction to him. Those lovely dark eyes lower, eyeing his wet bottom lip. Her hands migrated to his shoulders as she carefully balanced herself on her toes.

"I love you, mi vida," he whispered in the small space between their lips. He could hear the soft hitch in the girl's breath at his quiet confession.

There was no denying it. He loves Panthera Genesis Stevens. And finally, one of his fantasies was about to come true.

Miles closed his eyes as he felt their lips brush against each other... only for them to snap open when he heard,

"Hey Miles, you up- WHOA, MY GOD!" Miles and Panthera instinctively jumped away from each other to find an embarrassed Jefferson and an exasperated Rio.

"Dios mío, amor. I told you that there was a chance they would be up here and to leave them be. Now look what you have done," Rio playfully scolded her husband. Miles groaned out of embarrassment, tugging his braids while Panthera laughed nervously.

"Sorry about disappearing like that, Mr. and Mrs. Morales. Was there something that you need," Panthera asked, hoping to ease the tension and move on from... what almost happened between her and their son. Jefferson, still fighting off his embarrassed blush, let out a chuckle.

"Nothing crazy important. We just wanted to let you kids know that we're about the cut the cake Miles brought. Just in case you wanted some." The pair nodded.

"Yeah, we'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks for letting us know, papá," Miles said, finding the city skyline much more interesting than it was a minute ago. He could hear his mother's quiet laughter, dragging his father away to leave him alone with Panthera again. Before he could turn to her to apologize (for what, Miles wasn't entirely sure because, damn it, he wanted that kiss to happen), he felt something on his cheek.

That something was Panthera.

He turned to the girl, whose arms wrapped around one of his. She had a goofy smile.

"Don't apologize, alright? We're fine, I promise. Now come on, I heard you got red velvet, and I always wanted to try it!" Miles allowed himself to be dragged away by the cheerful girl, hand on the cheek that held a faint kiss print.

Not exactly what he was hoping for... but he certainly isn't complaining. And also trying to figure out how was he going to wash his face but preserve the mark...

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

Tags: @444morales thanks for being an amazing friend to listen to all my random ideas at odd hours at night. 💜💜💜

-Translations-

~Spanish~

Buen Dios Todopoderoso, ella es tan linda : Good God Almighty, she's so cute

Gatita : Kitten

Mijo : Darling

Papá : Dad

Princesa : Princess

Mi vida : My life

Dios mío, amor : My God, love

[tikiki05]

pt 2 of some silly jokes ive written that i like

The second AO3 screenshot is Aaron talking which is why it’s ironic, and the notes app screenshots are connected and also the joke for that is a little dark and niche lol

also the lana del rey joke was made with the help of @babygirlchuuya

[misshiraethsworld]

DOOR IN THE HEDGE ━ once upon a time ✧

as you wish, my beloved

THE FAIRYTALE AFFLICTION coming soon!

tag family: @arrthurpendragon, @eddysocs, @darth-caillic, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @kmc1989, @ocappreciation, @ocs-supporting-ocs if you want to be added to my family, all you have to do is ask!

[come-along-pond]

@dancingsunflowers-ocs asked the ‘it they had a kid’ ask game with Rapunzel and Jefferson.

Name: Quinn Gothel

Gender: Cis-Female

General Appearance: Curly hair like her mother, but dresses like her father and looks like him in every other way

Personality: boisterous, Day dreamer, smart

Special Talents: Sewing!! She loves making and designing clothes

Who they like better: Grace

Who they take after more: Jefferson

Personal Head canon: Although the youngest sibling, she acts more like the older one

Face Claim: Millie Bobby Brown

[dark-knight-culex]

This is my X-Men OC Austin aka Impulse. He is able to run at the speed of light and manipulate plasma around him and turn it into a force field to defend himself and push enemies back. He is openly bisexual and he has mild trust issues because his ex girlfriend and bff betrayed him when they found out he was a mutant. He has a good relationship with his parents and he believes in what Professor X is trying to do.

@murdercide626

[luci4s-blog]

HI POOKIE’S

Soooo if ur just now finding my blog hii

My blog will have oc x canon lore, art, and other stupid things, same with my regular oc’s

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

This is a safe space for everyone

Unless your a proshipper if u are GET OUT

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Anyways ill mostly have oc lore here but ill do fanart too and other things.

Not good at these but im in like almost every fandom so YEA!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I have instagram but you dont have to follow it :p

I hope you enjoy my blog though

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Socials

Discord:1bassline_junkie1

Instagram: _D0mo_kun_

[latibvles]

Hi Poet! Just wondering if you could share some hcs about Inez and Alex? I love them so much and they’ve been on my mind lately :)

Hi friend!! I certainly can. I will be tagging @upontherisers for this, because they are sick and deserve more of them in the meantime. As i did with the “underrated girls” headcanons, I’ll be throwing these under the cut for length!

I think what is most special to me about them, is that they didn’t really… have those feelings until after the war. In the Stalag though, they become good friends — and partners in a way. Alex is good at drawing and Inez is good with math; as such, the map-makers when they talk about escape plans

A lot of cold mornings sandwiched together at the table, and cold nights too.

Inez was pretty conscious of her accent in Thorpe Abbotts (an insecurity she carried prior to the war) — it’s something she forgets in the camp. It’s also what gets them talking about home and where that is and who’s waiting for them on the other side.

So after nine months, it’s pretty instinctual for Alex to scramble for the pen and paper before the first of many prisoner exchanges, to write down the address he’d be staying at so they could write to one another.

He sends drawings sometimes and I do imagine that they’re scenic in nature. Sketches of the interior of his home once he moves out of his mother’s place. The plants that eventually need to be potted.

Inez keeps all of it. I don’t think they unpack just how much of a lifeline those letters are until later though (especially staying with her parents — their correspondence is one of the only things that feels normal to her).

Alex hates watching her go when she has to go back to Tennessee for a week or two and Inez hates leaving

Domestic routine there before they even talk about what it is they’re doing, here. They’re sharing a bed before they even talk about making it a longterm arrangement. Alex is wiping the dirt from her cheek when they’re planting bushes and doesn’t even think about it

There’s something extremely natural there. It’s “who would’ve thought it would have been you?” but also “who else could it possibly be, if not you?”

Cari once said Bless The Broken Road for them and yeah. Extremely real.

They’re scaring off each other’s nightmares without a second thought about why it’s so easy for them to hold & let themselves be held by each other in such a state. They weren’t sharing a bunk in the camp. It’s new and familiar all at the same time.

Alex has been eyeing engagement rings for longer than he probably should’ve so at least the nice man at the jewelers kept that one tucked away “just in case.”

He asks her to marry him maybe a month after June and Benny’s wedding. Inez gets all sniffly about it but it’s fine. He cleans her glasses for her after putting the ring on her finger.

Poll time? Are they having kids? How many? This question and more will follow me into the 2am mark.

I hope you enjoyed these, anon! :)