#am I barely moved in because all my stuff is in a storage unit I haven’t gone to? yes

[boomerang109]

if you are neurodivergent/disabled/mentally ill/struggle with change or move in for whatever other reason and are moving into a dorm—please either consider reaching out to your college for extra time and/or be gentle with yourself if you are not coping with the move-in process as “easily” as everyone else

move-in is stressful for everyone no matter how neurotypical, abled, or mentally stable they are—but that means that if you’re not those things you’re probably underestimating how incredibly MORE difficult move-in will be. i am in my fourth year of dorm move-in this year (cause i’m very lucky to go to a school with great on-campus options) and because of my roommates moving in early, i snuck on campus four days before i was allowed in and instead of my normal intense freak outs about move-in, i just feel like. low level anxiety? because yeah. moving is never not gonna be stressful. but i truly cannot believe it never occurred to me that coming sooner would greatly ease the stress of “omg we have to do everything all at once directly before classes” so jic anyone else sees this and could be helped by my experience. consider trying to move in earlier so you have more time. and if you don’t. be kind to yourself

[pennylanefics]

Potted Plant - Andrei Svechnikov

a/n: i have been trying my hardest to keep this energy up and get these out as much as i can :) i hit a small wall with svechy's but i finally got this one finished :) two more fics for him to go!

summary: andrei wants to make his home feel a little more welcoming for you after he asks you to move in with him

word count: ~1.8k

“I was thinking about something,” Andrei’s voice fills the otherwise quiet room. It was late in the evening and the two of you were relaxing in bed, Andrei’s arms around you as he read a book and you were curled up in his chest, playing a game on your phone.

“About what?” You lock your phone and look up at him, your chin resting on his torso. His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and grins.

“Do you want to move in with me?” He asks, his tone soft and evident of hesitancy, worried about rejection. Your eyes widen a little and your body freezes.

“Move in…here?” Andrei nods and hums quietly, cradling your cheek in his touch.

“Yeah. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? I mean, you are over here all the time, so it wouldn’t be a big difference, you know?” He comments. “We’d just make it official, and you could move all your stuff over here.”

You think about it for a moment, and he did have a point. You spent a lot of time at his place, way more than you were at your apartment, and it was perfect timing, since your lease was ending soon, you could just let your landlord know that you won’t be returning.

Sure, it wasn’t a safe option, in case something were to happen with you and Andrei, but you chose not to think about that right now, leading to you answering your boyfriend with a nod of your head.

“It would be nice. I will move in with you,” you smile widely up at him. His cheeks redden at your answer and he lets out a big, relieved sigh, pulling you up by your hips so that your face was so close to his, where he could kiss you with ease. His lips press against yours, his laugh eventually breaking it.

“Oh I am so happy,” he sighs, kissing you over and over, then moving on to place little kisses all over your face, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Me too. It’ll be nice to officially move in, so I hope you aren’t going to get tired of me,” you tease him, laying back down against his chest, trailing your finger around the soft, grey fabric of his shirt.

“I could never get tired of you, sweetheart,” he whispers.

In the days following, Andrei helps you pack everything up in your apartment, specifically your clothes, toiletries, and all of your personal items. It was easier to just bring everything, since you had no intention of coming back to the place, and it was better to take it all in one go than make multiple trips for small stuff.

Andrei takes all of the boxes and bags to his car while you take one last stroll through the apartment, making sure you didn’t forget anything. You were also taking the rest of the food that was in your fridge and cabinets, even though Andrei had plenty of food at his place, it was better than just throwing it to waste.

“Everything gone?” He wonders, walking back inside the almost empty space. All of your furniture was still there, which would be a task for another day, you’d most likely move it into a storage unit, or Andrei would find a place for it in his house.

“I think so,” you murmur, curling into his side as he steps over to where you stand. His arms circle around your shoulders, swaying you side to side a little.

“Bittersweet, isn’t it?” He whispers, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “Remember the first night I stayed here with you?”

“I do,” you laugh quietly, remembering the night, “ you fell asleep on the couch accidentally and you woke up aching because you barely fit.”

“And how you refused to let me drive home so you forced me to stay.”

“Hey, I did not force you. I was protecting you, you were half asleep, there was no way you could have driven home.”

“I was fine, baby. You were being overdramatic,” he teases, tapping your bottom playfully. You pull away from him and smack his chest in retaliation.

“Oh sure, because a 6’2 man leaning against his much shorter girlfriend to simply walk to the bedroom is fine and not tired at all.” He laughs and shakes his head, finally admitting defeat.

“So, are we ready to go?” He changes the topic, nodding his head towards the door.

“Yeah, let’s head out.” You take one final look at the place you called your first home and walk out shortly after, your hand in Andrei’s, heading back to his place, or rather, your new home with him.

It took a couple days to unpack all of the boxes and find a place for them, so much that you ended up keeping a majority of things in a box in the office closet, mainly pictures and trinkets that you couldn’t bear to part with for the time being, but had no space to display the things.

Andrei assured you that nothing would be given away or sold, and that if you are to move into a different house together, they would come with and he would make a space for it all.

Andrei was very understanding and sweet through all of this. He could tell that even though you were excited and looking forward to this new chapter together, you were still quite anxious and nervous about if things would change.

He gave you all the space he needed during this time, either taking a run or working out in the backyard while you organized your clothes or sifted through toiletries. He knew he needed to do something, so he went online while you cooked dinner for the two of you, needing to find a local store that sells shelving units.

“You want to go shopping tomorrow?” He asks once you both have your food plated and are sat on the couch to watch a movie while you eat.

“Sure. What for?” Andrei picks at his food a little, hesitant to bring the topic up.

“To look for some things that would make here feel a little more…like home, for you,” he says, avoiding eye contact for a moment. He finally looks over at you when you don’t respond, he sees a thoughtful look in your eyes.

“It does feel like home,” you lie through your teeth. But Andrei isn’t having it. He shakes his head at you and swallows his bite of food.

“Baby, I can tell you don’t think that. As much as you are wanting to live with me, I can tell you feel like something is missing. So I want to make this feel like your place as well, instead of like you are moving in to my house. I mean, you are, but this is our house now, and you should feel happy with it, too.”

You don’t say anything, your mouth falling open slightly, Andrei stunning you with his words and how well he could read you. A thankful smile stretches at the corners of your lips and you nod, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you,” you whisper, a hint of relief in your voice. Andrei smiles back and squeezes your hand.

“Anything for you,” he whispers back.

The following day, Andrei takes you into town, a couple stores on his mind that he thought would be best for finding things. The first stop was an office supply store and after some looking around, you found a nice mahogany shelf that would look so perfect in the office, since it was quite empty in there right now, as he didn’t use it much; he was more than okay with you taking over that space.

After having the box loaded into your Jeep, you head to the hardware store, another one of Andrei’s ideas.

“What do we need here?”

“I figured we could look at paint colors for the bedroom or the office,” he says, a blush covering his cheeks. “And I thought we could also get a few plants as well.”

So, that’s exactly what you do. After a lot of deliberation, you choose a new color for the office, not wanting to change his bedroom walls since it felt perfect to you, before you move onto the gardening section, browsing through all of the flowers and plants. 

Fifteen minutes pass before you finally decide on a monstera plant, a couple small succulents, and a growing pothos with some long vines for the living room. With one last trip to Home Goods for some simple decorations, you are finally ready to head back and get to work, or at least start with some things.

Painting would be for tomorrow, so first, you decided to put the bookshelf together in the room, and just leave it in the middle of the space while you paint the walls around. It took some time and frustration to put together, something that comes with every piece of furniture ever, but thankfully, only an hour later, it was fully set up and tightened really well.

“You want me to start taping the ceiling and you can do the floors?” Andrei sighs heavily as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. He grabs a large roll of clear packing tage and hands it to you.

“I think I’m going to order some takeout for dinner first,” you say, flopping on your back to cool off some. Andrei leans over you and can’t help but meet your face with his, giving you a light kiss.

“Sounds good. Could you order my usual?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” You step out of the room and call your favorite Chinese takeout restaurant, and because you guys eat there so much, the lady answering the phone remembers your order by heart now, so she writes it down and hands it off with ease, wishing you well before hanging the phone up.

“That was quick,” Andrei comments when you return only a couple minutes later.

“The lady remembered our order,” you laugh softly, reaching for the tape to start laying some down on the carpet.

Andrei gets up on a step stool to reach the ceiling, and the music coming from your playlist continues on, neither of you saying much. But once everything is taped and you lay some old curtain linings down to shield the carpet from any splashes of paint, Andrei wraps you in his arms tightly.

“I love you,” he whispers. “And I hope this helps you feel a little more welcome and at home here.”

“It already has,” you mumble into his chest. “And thanks again for everything. I really can’t wait to spend our lives together.”

“Wherever it may be, my darling, I will always be by your side.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

[cryptidwritings]

Pocket

My first foray into tiny whump, because I was really inspired by this post and couldn't get the idea out of my head.

Content: accidental caretaker, caretaker new master, tiny whumpee, immortal whumpee, conditioned whumpee, abandonment, magical whumpee, nonmagical caretaker.

...

It was cold. Eight am was no reasonable time to be outside or among a crowd.

Emery stood with a cup of coffee in her hand and a pair of sunglasses on, huddled in her winter coat with four hundred dollars in cash clenched territorially in her pocket.

Hopefully she could get this storage unit for cheap. She couldn't throw a bunch of money around and, judging by the crowd and the cars they showed up in, they had more than twice what she did at their disposal. This was their job, and Emery was there only at the chance to rent the only open storage locker remotely close to her.

She was desperate, basically. The underpaid employee on the phone basically told her to try, but there wasn't a guarantee.

The auction began with a small unit. Dirty, barely anything in it. It went for ten bucks. Emery was cautiously optimistic. Maybe that was an omen to the crowd, but a green light for her. After all, she didn't care what was actually in the locker.

They approached. The unit was opened. Emery took a peak over the crowd on her tip-toes.

"Another garbage unit."

"Pretty sure I saw that same desk going for fifteen bucks. Been on the site three months."

The bidding began, and it went from five to twenty. Okay, no big deal. She put her hand up. Thirty. Then forty.

"Sold! For fifty five dollars. Make sure to pay at the desk."

Emery was shaking. What a rush. She ran to the office, warmer and way more awake.

"Sorry, it's already been signed for."

"What? But... I really need a locker."

"Sorry, dunno what to tell you."

Emery paid. "Is there any way-"

"No. Empty the locker by tomorrow or we'll have to charge you, okay?"

Fucking fantastic.

By the time she opened the locker, she had almost forgotten just how much stuff was actually in it.

The door slapped open with an echoing bang, and she stepped inside. She started with the big things up front. A desk and bedroom set. She took pictures and placed them for free with pickup.

She kept going, finally having cleared a path to the back where a large piece of furniture sat in the back corner, covered by a painters cloth. Emery pulled it down, gawking at a large, and really heavy, armoire.

It was the nicest piece in the unit, which had plenty of room for her things. Maybe she could sell it? Make some money to spend?

She began her investigation by looking at the back. The flashlight on her phone found nothing. Then she moved to the doors; outfitted with ornate brass pulls and hand carved vines encircling them. She pulled it open, assessing the doors and finding a little marks on the inside. Unreadable.

Emery turned on her flashlight again, this time turning it to the inside of the cabinet. It was full of little trinkets. Tiny ceramic animals, ballet figurines made of china, porcelain dolls that looked... expensive as fuck.

Then, in the very back of the bottom shelf, there was a glass box. It was the biggest thing in the cabinet; about eight inches long and six inches wide. She lift it from its spot, careful not to knock anything over. Maybe it was something rare. She took a look, surprised.

It was a charming miniature bedroom with a wooden bed and nightstand, complete with a crochet circular rug, a cozy chair, and a light hanging from the glass roof with wires that led through the base to a battery underneath. She turned it on, and that's when she spotted a little person with green hair lying in the bed, asleep.

It looked so real.

Especially when it... opened it's... eyes?

"What the fuck!" She almost dropped the thing, but caught it as a little scream came whistling out of the glass. She put it on a shelf that matched her height, and witnessed for herself the little thing... the little person, pushing themself off of the floor and fixing their upturned nightstand.

"Oh no. Oh no." Their voice was worried as they cleaned up quickly, glancing at Emery as she gaped at them.

"H-hello!" They said, nervously, still attending to the mess. "I'm s-sorry I scared you."

Emery didn't answer, too shocked. It was talking... to her.

The little thing looked at her again, giving her it's full attention. "I... I'm sorry... master didn't like my room to be messy... I... do you..." their face twisted and they began to cry. "I don't want to make you mad. P-please don't put me back in there!"

"Oh..." Emery snapped out of her stupor. "No. I... I'm sorry I just can't believe you're... alive?"

The thing... whatever it was... was still crying but put on a smile.

"Thank you! Yes. I-" it sniffed. "I didn't mean to scare you. M-my name is Pocket."

"Pocket?" Emery said. "What... are you?"

Pocket smiled, their cheeks turning rosy. "I'm a pixie!"

"A pixie." Emery relaxed back, realizing she had dropped her phone on the ground in all the excitement. She picked it up, groaning at the cracked screen glass. "Damn it, all."

"Are you upset, master?"

At that, Emery looked back up at... Pocket, whose rosy cheeks suddenly were sapped of color. Their emerald-green eyes flooded with tears again.

"Oh, no!" Emery reassured, holding up her phone. "I just cracked my phone. But it isn't your fault!"

They beamed at the reassurance but couldn't stop their tears. They hid their face behind their hands a moment, taking small breaths. When they removed their hands, it was as if they weren't crying at all, and their emerald eyes had turned a bright peridot.

"Oh good! I'm so glad you're not upset! I-"

"Hello?"

Emery turned to see a man at the entrance of the unit.

"Are you the one who asked about renting this locker?"

"Yeah, that's me. Am I taking too long?"

"No, not at all. The other tenant fell through, actually. Do you still need it?"

Emery's eyes widened. "Yes! Um, just give me one-" She glanced at pocket, who was already lying back in their bed, still as before. She blinked, suddenly feeling as if their interaction might have been a dream.

She turned back to the man. "Nevermind. I'll follow you."

[dollsonmain]

Photos over the course of the morning:

So, this is the space I have to work with. The only thing I can think of why Rolly would have installed an over-large toilet in the basement bathroom is that he liked to sit there to poop and didn’t want his dangle touching the rim.

It’s very much in the way.

I NEED counter space to work, so moved some stuff around and added a tiny shelving unit that just barely fits into the space between the sink and the wall. The sink leaks so I keep the faux drawer front off of the front of the cabinet...

Wrangled a bench under there for extra storage space. The bench is wider than the table so doesn’t exactly fit.

There’s ONE power outlet. It is a small bathroom. It’s very funny to me that Scott was just shaking his head at his father having run power strips around the bathroom and here I am stuck doing the same thing. Mine’s not zip-tied to the wall, though, and the outlet part isn’t right above the sink. It’s on the back of the too-big toilet. I don’t like having a toilet in my workspace, but no one ever uses it, so it’s just a bowl of blue water. I flush it now and then to keep it fresher and that’s it.

But then I took my small utility carts down there and had to move the table and bench again to make room. I do prefer the table not cutting off half the walkway.

Drying rack is back in the shower. I have to be very careful what I put in the shower because it can and did leak. I also can’t put anything over the back of the toilet because I need to be able to access it if it starts leaking again.

I took out the toilet paper holder and the towel rack because both were in the way. I should take down the shower rod. It’s just tension and installed crooked, but everything I take down reveals lots and lots of holes and missing paint. Rolly didn’t take them down to paint (and apparently doesn’t know how to decide where to drill a hole for a screw swiss cheese walls what the fuck), and I didn’t, either when I repainted.

BUT Pony Cart also needed to go in there, which meant the table and shelf had to come out, and that sucks because that’s all of the counter space. I NEED counter space. I’m used to having an approx 1ft by 1.5ft segment of counter space.

If I hadn’t depressed enough at this point because I’m having to cram myself into a windowless bathroom, I was then. I’m claustrophobic. This was unpleasant.

Right now this is all the workspace I have. If I were able I’d get and install a different sink vanity thing that had some counter space. I can’t do that because money. I was going to put all of my bottles of T.A. on the bottom of this shelf thing but I don’t think it can take the weight, tbh. They’ll go in the shower.

Rearranged a little, again, and that’s better. Dehumidifier will probably be on top of that gold plastic table there, with the hose pointing at the shower drain which is just below it.

I need to take the pony bins down, still, and clean up the kitchen because I’ve made a mess up there dumping things off of workstations to get to the furniture.

I also need to find a place to store the small appliances when they’re not in use. I was keeping the mini crock pot and ozone generator on the table in there, but it’s gone. I’ll need to take my electric kettle down, too. It’s ONLY used for doll and pony hair.

I’m tired. It’s all futile. I comply here, he starts poking his nose elsewhere shrinking and shrinking my space.

Obviously, all work is off until the dehumidifer gets here or else the basement will explode into mold again.

Removing the resin jugs did immediately improve the air quality. Those are out in the garage.

I still need to move the SunBox down, two large and one medium storage unit, all of my dolls, and my computer and things (I’m not sure there even are enough outlets down there to accommodate my computer, not that I really trust Rolly’s electrical work), which I guess will go where the unused sewing machine is.

Act like my stuff is unwelcome in his space, see how he likes having no me near him at all.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

One year of living here

[and what it looked like when I moved in]

Gremlin update: supplemental

Well it has officially been a year since I moved in here and maybe I should do a year end review...

Last year on June 1st the situation was this:

I had recently been pushed to tell my landlord about my roommate assaulting me because my other roommate was threatening consistently to move out and leave me alone with him, and in response, within the month, my landlord decided to sell the house we were renting, to a private family, prompting our immediate eviction [a decision he claims is unrelated]. So after a struggle to find a place at all and agreeing to pay 1000 of my 1200 pension in rent to finally secure a place, and another 1000 in moving expenses, I found myself standing in the entry to what looked like a tightly packed storage unit with my cat in his carrier and a narrow passage to the bathroom door.

And I mean so full of stuff there were things pushing up the tiles of the drop ceiling, the kitchen was fully buried, you could not tell it was an apartment. Imagine everything in a 3 story house and garage packed haphazardly into a 10X15 space... Or imagine a can of sardines. And the shelf had been partially ripped off the wall between me viewing the place and me stepping in the door...

And despite an outlet right at the door, one in the kitchen, and an explicit request not to bury my freezers because it was all of my food and I wanted to be sure they were plugged in and have access to food to eat... The movers insisted the only outlets they could find were all the way at the back of the apartment, so all I had -that I could conceivably unbury- was the can of beans and hot sauce that the previous tenant had left sealed in the nearest cupboard... Which I only knew was there because I had just enough time to drop off my plants and move anything left in the cabinets to the cabinet over the stove before having to lock the place back up. I hadn't even had the time and energy to wash down the apartment before the movers crammed everything in there.

And they had done other things like leave all my book cases empty and facing the back of the apartment so I couldn't put things in them to clear space. They had put my dresser facing the back with the drawers pulled out and stacked on top in a random pile so I would have to be able to unbury the whole thing with elbow room to condense the drawers back into the frame. They left a pile of my things outside next to the building, including things I explicitly told them not to. They had moved me in like they hate me personally for some deeply unforgivable crime and wanted me to fail and then charged me 1000$ after having quoted me 300.

I had to sleep on top of a wooden chest that was crammed at an angle through the bathroom doorway for the first week while I had to puzzle my way out of it...

Here are some photos, the way the movers left it [It doesn't look like this now, to be sure]:

And how I had to set up my phone charging, music player and a source of light in my bathroom... I cannot stress enough that this was all tidily arranged in boxes, totes, bags and a taped up clothing rack for them when they took it from the house. Yes that is my Piccolo plushy and jacket with my cane at the door where I had to put them... And 2 brooms, not some huge handled contraption, just 2 brooms... And my crutches because OH YEAH I MASSIVELY re-fucked up my ankle during the apartment searching and was back to being in a boot and crutches because I could barely fucking walk...

At this point I had been super run down by apartment hunting all over the place in a desperate scramble to not be homeless for even one night because Corona meant shelters are unsafe for me, a near guarantee of dying every night I would have to stay in one... It had already been stressful 3 months, and expensive. I have cfs, I had just gotten over the worst of a bunch of long covid bullshit when this all started going down.

So I am standing there in the 2 square feet at the door, looking at this, and thought to take a photo at least, anxious about trying to fit in the rest of my stuff from outside before someone started stealing something expensive and important or before it all got utterly ruined by rain, or before the landlord got pissed off... Having just paid 2000 for first and last and another 1000 on moving expenses, trying to tell myself I will probably get CHOB and if not I can make 200 and a food bank work...

I had no one to help me and even if I did it wouldn't have been safe due to corona. For years now I have been 'on my own' financially and in terms of help with anything, usually even despite having friends or family that I helped out when they need it... But losing everyone I had left due to corona complicating my ability to go out, and my new found inability to safely meet new people means I had, well the apartment, and no extra space or vehicle to work with... Just the storage box in front of me and myself [and Pumpkin to worry about]...

I think most people would have cried. [I'll cry about it later]

I think a lot of people would have given up.

Some would have done a violence. [still time to do that maybe]

I have this amazing ability to:

a) Not process stress or distress while I am actively experiencing it, leaving me open to critical thinking [I'll have my breakdown after the danger has passed and when I am alone and feel safe]

b) never feel bad about myself for having ended up in a shit situation thus removing guilt or same or low self esteem from the equation

c) Tell myself, after years of experience and -repeated- practice, that I have the capacity to dig myself back out of problems, physical energy permitting, speed variable

These are the bruises and injuries, some of them, I got in the first week climbing over under and around furniture, carrying other boxes and furniture to try to organize my way into having room to move.

And I ate a lot of cold sandwiches in the first couple months because I had no kitchen and OH YEAH IT WAS 50 DEGREES IN HERE [120F]... I have pots, which is made infinitely worse by being too hot... And the one tiny window that opens I couldn't even open because my neighbour wouldn't stop smoking right under it out out his front door that is right next to it and I am allergic.

One of the first things I did after making the place survivable and setting up everything Pumpkin needed in the bathroom, was start digging out my book cases so I could -at some point- unpack all my book boxes into them and get them out of the way. Having my book cases makes me feel slightly more sane and grounded. Usually they are the first thing I unpack, that was NOT the case this time.

Usually when I move I get the keys as early as I can to go over and do preliminary cleaning of shared spaces and my own space. I take measurements during the interview process and have a floor plan mapped out, and so by the time I get there everything is in the right room and roughly not horridly arranged and everything under my stuff has been cleaned of other people... Not this time.

But I did, before long, set up my book cases so I could feel like a person again... and have somewhere to put my tea. It took me till the 17th of June -last year ofc- to get this far:

Here is they, with nothing else pictured because nothing else looked like anything but pile of storage.

The first thing I had to do was dig out my freezers, confirm they were plugged in and get them halfway across the apartment, and dig out the kitchen.

And I did, one grueling and stupid step at a time.

... But yeah, that's what June a year ago looked like.

I think one of the first things I did, maybe in June idk was stack 18 or so totes into a platform in the corner and get my mattress up on it so I had somewhere to sleep... Okay actually at first the platform was in the middle of the room and a whole row higher [the artist sleeping on a stack of things about 2 feet from the ceiling was foreshadowing for my own actual life something fierce]. This platform would spend most of the next year slowly collapsing in on itself until I finally accepted failure and set up the bunk bed properly.

And then I spent July, August, and September organizing things one at a time into the next better arrangement. Then I had to rush to get all my winter groceries done before I had to shut myself in here without leaving for 6 months on account that I can't get my cart through the snow and can't get in transportation with other people due to corona...

And then I spent the winter recovering and organizing.

I should have taken more pictures of the various hellish and unconventional between steps, for sure.

June of 2024:

This place looks so different.

I can't even clearly remember how I got from there to here, it was just so much finding the next thing to move and moving it, for just months.

I can't get you pictures because my phone's cord won't stay connected to the computer long enough to transfer anything and I need to buy a new one... But Imagine it looks like there is less than 1/3 as much stuff, simply by being better arranged. And imagine it arranged in a way that looks organized.

And it looks livable.

It looks like an apartment and not a storage unit! [Or it will once I move the chairs again]

I took apart one whole desk, got rid of that green drawer plastic unit, and someone stole my bike [not the trike] is mostly what I got rid of but I also brought -in- everything from outside.

The next time I get you pictures you will actually be able to see the layout of the apartment, for one, there is mostly just one tidy stack of storage near the door and the rest is pretty well arranged. I still need to downsize but I am now in a position to safely go through everything at my own pace and actually decide what to get rid of. Also in a position to repair things to actually use them, and getting to a point where I can focus on finishing projects to downsize the scraps that are left when I am done them.

The situation now is more:

-The hair I lost from stress [or potentially being poisoned] is all growing back at various rates and I have baby bangs again at 36... But also bangs and a lot of hair that's 1-10 inches long that's all fresh growth.

-The smoking neighbour moved away or something

-I got CHOB after all -it was not a super certain thing- and am now back to 'securely' having finances to manage instead of scrambling to make 200 work for food and supplies [and I am very good with money so I have savings again].

-I'm a full day of work away from having this place in shape enough I wouldn't consider it a disaster if the landlord had to come over [and they have to give 24 hours notice]

-I have my health card and ID renewed and I am sure they were already expired by last June, so that's new

-I have an air conditioner and inclusive rent and I don't have to worry about roommates being stupid with it and running up bills.

-I have been marveling all year at just how much roommates were making my life hell and how amazing it is to live alone. My dishes are done! When I clean it stays clean! No one fucks anything up or breaks anything! There's no FLIES! There's no bugs! There's no old food! There's no mold problem! There's no icky little fly spots on everything! [I don't have to deal with Fine just letting her cat pee everywhere and not cleaning it up because she's too dense to realize the yellow staining is bleaching from urine and not "puke" or leaving things on the floor by the door which is the one way Pumpkin will pee on something]

-I haven't had a severe allergy attack or been infected with anything since having my own place and my physical health is steadily recovering to the point where I can now tolerate being a little hyperthyroid without it destroying me

-I have a switch now so I can play BOTW and TOTK to my heart's content and find all the koroks... [silly but we need whimsy]

-I have a neighbour who keeps checking to make sure I'm alive

Maybe it seems silly but the last offline friend I had and my mother both, when I asked them to check in on me with a daily phone call because I was having heart attacks -that the hospital wasn't taking seriously because they were cardiac spasms and not from clots- and I was worried I'd lose consciousness and die on my floor before someone found me, couldn't be bothered to actually do it, they both called or texted me 1-2 WEEKS later with a passive aggressive "So are you still alive or what >:("... And Yeah, I don't speak to them anymore, I don't have friends or family in my life at all anymore because everyone kept treating me like that...

So to lose everyone the moment I have to ask them to do something as simple as check in on my when I know I am in crisis [which is a very rare thing for me, most people are convinced I don't know how to ask for help]... To have my roommate/'friend' hear my book case fall over on top of me when she knew I was having heart problems and not bother saying anything or checking in on me for a whole week either... I can sit here and know it's not a reflection of my objective value all I want, but it doesn't change the fact that I had no one in my life who could be moved to act like they gave one iota of a fuck about me...

And now I have a neighbour who just noticed I was unusually shut in and alone and worries when she or her partner don't see me or Pumpkin after a while. She tries very hard to do things like text me compliments about my weird little garden [that I know is very sad actually, I haven't really gotten to the flower part more than just the green part... but she is very sweet]. Having a stranger go very out of their way past me being cranky and reclusive to respect my boundaries and leave notes in my box and text me as requested, in order to make sure I am okay is good for my mental health. I needed this. I needed it from my friend and family, really, but getting it from a complete stranger is so much better than not at all.

This week I started getting to repairing things with epoxy that had broken and getting them put in place.

I'm not as productive in winter as i tend to be in summer months in part due to SAD, not so much outright depression but just being lower energy due to a lack of sunlight, and usually being too cold, though this year it was due to being too warm due to old heating controls, but now I am set up for a summer of not overheating with the apartment looking like it's in a good starting point. I'm set up to be able to take out and address one thing at a time while I have a clean and relatively nice apartment to do it in, without overheating and having to stay laying down.

There are wildflowers in a vase on the counter! I have little packages on the way! I have a little man screaming at me for his gravy meats!

I'm starting to put up decor as I find and repair it. I'm starting to be able to decorate.

I have a full kitchen to cook for myself now! [I did not in the last place because I was isolated to the basement]

There's empty open floor space!

Everything is clean on a regular-ish basis or daily!

This summer I will undoubtedly make so much progress.

This fall I should be able to do the winter shopping at a leisurely pace.

This winter I should be 100% set up to start batch cooking and baking again, but also with the AC unit I can cook in here in the summer and fall without dying.

Still not talking to any family and I don't really have offline friends, but I have a neighbour who notices when I am too quiet or when I decorate my door or garden, or window.

I'm going to get a full sized recycle bin and organize my paperwork!

This year I am probably finally going to get a decent graphics card!

I have my noise machine and Myst music on on a regular basis now, I took out my candles and incense this week because it's safe now!

I am still so tired but nothing looks daunting anymore and the more I get done the more approachable everything looks.

By the end of this summer I should know what my "new normal" looks like and get to enjoy it.

Maybe I'll check in again June next year to recap everything I got done? I have a regular-ish blog anyway...

[silent-scribbs]

Too lazy to type again but my sona design for welcome home bc why not

still my first time making a sona specifically for a fandom in so, so very long

Sending the images if u don't wanna open bird-turned-doge site

I'm uncertain about like, the torso ig, but I love the tail head(mostly) and hands

Posting bc I might lose all my stuff if my laptop breaks fully

Personal Complaints under Cut

So my mom is being a bitch (loud and slamming shit and insulting me) but it's partially within reason bc I'm lazy as fuck and have barely helped with clearing stuff so we can go through the storage unit. Plus I generally don't do dishes (it's gross and feels awful for my hands)

But she slammed my laptop shut, and now the screen coloring is slightly off. Like, it flickers when it moves and becomes more desaturated and/or loses red or smth :( Plus I got a headache for a long time today but headache meds seemed to do nothing, maybe even make it worse ;-;

I desperately need to open commissions or sell art only because I don't rlly have much in the way of job options since I can't drive and am very awkward and don't like calling bc ig social anxiety. I'm unfortunately also super worried about how money laws is gonna work out for me. Why can't the U.S. just tell me how much I need to pay in taxes and if I need to 😭

When I grow up (as a legal adult already), I want to be a functioning human being TwT My best friend has been the main force for positive human change in me but I rlly don't want to push him away by relying too much on him and am scared If I don't grow into being able to function, I'm going to actually die bc the US sucks and I don't have many ppl to rely on at all, but I also don't want to burden anyone and they would all get super tired of me fast ;-;

I rlly hope my laptop doesn't get ruined completely, I just got a new charger for it so that I could revive it like a week ago (give or take).

[msbarrows]

I posted 3,032 times in 2022

That's 378 more posts than 2021!

347 posts created (11%)

2,685 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@katschy

@iapetusneume

@ltleflrt

@gingersnapwolves

@sarasa-cat

I tagged 3,024 of my posts in 2022

#tumblr - 250 posts

#no man's sky - 240 posts

#lol - 143 posts

#starships - 140 posts

#euclid galaxy - 133 posts

#the untamed - 117 posts

#this! - 115 posts

#also - 89 posts

#writing - 89 posts

#fanfiction - 82 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#be very sad when i go to eat lunch and discovered what happens to a soft banana inside a lunch box that was used to bludgeon a bully

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

38 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

#4

See the full post

39 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

#3

See the full post

50 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

#2

My latest gaming addiction - No Man’s Sky. Bought it on Steam in sales last week and after an initial “not sure if like or dislike” I’ve spent a disturbing number of hours running around and finding stuff and building mini-bases all over my starting solar system. This particular one is at the site of a crashed space freighter I’m salvaging stuff from (my only base so far in a second solar system is positioned at same). I have several sites I’ve named “Drydock” that were claimed just for the purpose of salvaging a wrecked ship and warping it to the space station to melt down for scrap (best haul so far netted me > 5 million units plus a storage upgrade for my own tiny ship). At some point when I have a lot more in the way of resources and technology, I might try actually repairing one of the crashed ships. Because why not.

I also like having bases handy to specific material types - like the one super-weird planet covered in coral-like desiccated creatures that are formed of both carbon and ferrite (two of the three main building materials, the other being silicate sand you can dig up anywhere), making it an awesome place to farm for more building materials any time I start running low. So much easier and faster than running around mining them from random plants and rocks on other planets, and I can just use my teleporter to step to there from any of my other bases if I need to gather more

So far if I had to describe my character I’d say they’re conflict-avoidant. Happy enough to just ignore the battles occurring around them, scavenge for salvageable crap, and build micro-bases. I am looking forward to unlocking more of the decor items so I can make bases that look comfortable, not just functional (I blame many years of playing The Sims for that interest...).

I’ve barely set foot outside my starting system yet, and don’t really have any interest so far in following the main storyline assignments or getting into any fights. I’ve only killed one pirate so far - mostly I just scram away from them as fast as my tiny ship can go - but I may beef up my weapons and shields a little, because being randomly attacked when I’m just minding my own business mining asteroids (for gold so I can build more solar panels) is getting old.

50 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Been wanting this print from @theshitpostcalligrapher‘s Etsy shop for most of a year now; finally picked up a copy this month as a birthday present to myself.

I’ve put it in sight of my bed, so I’ll see it first and last thing every day, and some day (hopefully soonish) when I get my shit together enough to move out into my own place again, I will probably make a point of it being the first decorative item I set out.

(Also I love the pretty tiled frame I bought to put it in)

222 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ambiguous321]

AITA

Am I (27f) the asshole for taking everything from the apartment I shared with my ex (28m) for 2 years. For context, my ex and I were together for almost 3 years. We had a good relationship but the past 6 months he was pulling away. We went on a trip to see my family at Thanksgiving and got into an argument about possibly moving out of state. When we got home, we had a conversation about our differing views, me wanting to move and him wanting to either stay or only move closer to his family. We settled our differences and applied to a house out of state. We had the green light to get through all the paperwork and right before closing the lender came back and said due to changes in my credit we would either have to put a larger down-payment or they couldn't approve us. We backed out because we couldn't afford to put a larger down-payment at the time. We continued living where we were at and I worked 3 jobs to pay down credit cards and my car loan. He got a second job for a couple months to afford getting a PS5. I was able to pay off my car loan and got my credit cards paid down significantly but we had booked a vacation out of state and because I had put every cent I earned to bills and paying off my car loan and credit cards I hadn't been able to save for the vacation. So I had to use my credit cards I just paid down to cover it. The plan was after we got back from vacation, I would move in with a friend in the state we tried to buy the house in to get an established job there as my job wouldn't transfer and his would. The entire vacation he hid in the bedroom, or played on his laptop. He barely spoke with me and only came out of the room for food and prearranged outings. When we got home, I hurried and grabbed a some things that were not already packed for my move to my friends house. I was upset with how he acted on vacation so before I left, I only gave him a kiss on the cheek and not one on the lips. The whole next month he gave me the silent treatment. I drove to see him twice and he would barely speak to me. Finally after visiting again and seeing family, he finally texted me that he wanted to break up. I didn't feel like fighting and arguing after almost 2 months of silent treatment so I just agreed and said I'd get a storage unit and get my stuff from the apartment. Now for the part that I may be an asshole for... all the furniture in that apartment is either mine or given to me from friends. And the gaming PC he has I purchased for him for our last anniversary, and all the tvs and both A/Cs are mine. Basically when I go to get my stuff, if I took everything that was mine or given to me he would be left with very little except his own clothes, a PS5, a 32 inch TV, and some dishes. The beds are mine and my friend's, the couch is my friend's, the chairs and dressers were given to me by my parents. So would I be the asshole for taking basically everything from the apartment?

[kingexplosionfucker]

Late night thoughts that I have to post somewhere because the stress of everything is just eating me alive at this point.

My lease ends is a little over a month. I have no idea how the hell I am going to be able to move everything out of my apartment by myself. I can barely afford a U-Haul and a storage unit, so hiring movers is absolutely out of the question. I helped some friends move around a year ago, so I initially planned on asking them to help me, but now I feel like I’d just be burdening them. They’re both really busy with work and family stuff, and I don’t want to be another thing that they’d have to deal with. Besides, I kinda feel like if I can’t handle this by myself, then I’m a weak person. I should be able to handle everything by myself. And that’s what I’ve been doing. But I can feel myself cracking under all the pressure. I haven’t taken a day off work since February, and that wasn’t even by choice, so I wasn’t even really taking a break because I was stressed out the whole time about not working.

I wish I could talk to somebody about this but then I’d just be the guy who complains all the damn time, and nobody fucking likes that guy, you know? I don’t want to burden people with my shit. We’re all dealing with our own shit. Besides, no one would really get it anyway. Most of my friends don’t know what it’s like to have no backup plan, living paycheck to paycheck and still barely getting by. Most of them have parents who would take them in or help them out financially if things fell through. Meanwhile I’m the one providing for my mentally ill mother who doesn’t have a job, and my dad is in his fucking mansion patting himself on the back for cutting off his failure oldest child.

I think the worst part about this is I never had to worry about money before this year. I grew up rich. Yes, I’m gonna say rich and not upper middle class or whatever because if you’re making more than 7 figures, you’re rich, plain and simple. I didn’t know how good I had it. I mean, sure, my dad’s a dickhead but at least I never had to worry about where my next meal was coming from.

I’m half-tempted to come crawling back to him and begging him for money, but I know there’s a very slim chance of him actually helping me. He’d just tell me that he was right about me all along and that I’m nothing more than a pathetic college dropout, destined for a life of failure.

Maybe he is right. If I had just been more responsible, maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe I could’ve been heartless like him and left my mother to become homeless. Maybe if I was comfortable with stepping on other people to get what I want like he is, maybe I would be rich like he is. But I’m not like him. But I do have his anger. And I think that’s what I hate most about myself.

I’ve always been so quick to anger, even over stupid petty shit. I’ve almost lost friendships over it. I’ve almost gotten shot over it. The constant stress I’m under is only making my anger issues worse. The rare moments I’m not angry, I just feel empty and despondent, like anger is the only spark I have anymore and when its been used up, my engine stalls and so does my body.

So yeah, I don’t really know what to do but I guess I’ll have to figure it out tomorrow. Because as much as I would love to off myself and save myself the pain and suffering of existing, I can’t. Because then I would be leaving my mom and my dog to die on the streets, and I can’t do that to them. They don’t deserve that.

So the horrors persist but so do I. That’s the saying that’s been keeping me going. Fake it til you make it except I know I’m never going to make it. I’m never going to be financially stable unless I get really fucking lucky. Or my dad decides he doesn’t hate me anymore and he dies and puts me back in his will, but I think I have a better chance at winning the lottery.

[vizthedatum]

Something I did in December ‘22 and January ‘23:

I assessed all my belongings I had gotten back from my ex, threw away everything that was clearly broken or infested/dirty (we had a mouse infestation), had all my clothes PROFESSIONALLY cleaned (I didn’t care how much it cost but my wardrobe is a huge investment and special interest of mine - I didn’t grow up having a lot of clothes, let alone clothes that fit my fluctuating body well, because we didn’t have a lot of money), cleaned furniture, cleaned the stuff I had in a storage unit, and tried my best to move forward.

—

I had to get all those clothes professionally cleaned (or throw away some) because of how bad the mouse infestation was.

And the infestation wasn’t my fault - my functional freezes weren’t my fault - my clutter or messiness wasn’t the main issue (it was a symptom)

Last night I dreamt I was back in that place, and that I snuck out and called my landlady and an exterminator to come check it all out. Then hired a cleaning service after all the entry points were sealed, the mice were killed, and the place was fumigated or something. I imagined my ex-spouse would get so furious at me (because I would do this without their permission and without planning with them)… and I was glad. I wasn’t scared at the thought.

Besides I was on the lease and I was cleaning up as best I could with my various physical/mental disabilities. We had tried several methods to get rid of them, and they fucking wouldn’t listen to me about how bad it was. It put both of our health at risk.

—

Last year was tough.

When I moved into my current place, I was so burnt out - I HATED that I had to move again, but now I’m so grateful.

It took a lot of work and I had A LOT OF HELP - but my place looks really well put together :)

I still have clutter and stuff I don’t need, but I’m working through that. I’ve already donated and given away over a 100 lbs of clothing and items. Will donate more.

I know I have ADHD - so it can be hard to not be cluttered and disorganized. I often will have cleaning spurts instead of continuing to upkeep.

But last year has been teaching me to figure out how to get better at all of that too. Making routines and also figuring out THE BARE MINIMUM I can do.

Healing my nervous system and surrounding myself with supportive people help me feel motivated to: take care of myself, take care of my space, enjoy my things, give to others, and work on my job/career/hobbies.

And also I am allowing myself a lot of grace (a skill I’m still working on) especially because there are days when I can’t do much or anything due to disability.

[trainer-aer]

Life Update: Valentine's Day Edition

02.14.2023

💜

Today marks three months to the day from when I began the process of getting away from my abusive ex-fiancé.

In the past three months I have done an insane amount of healing that trauma, physically and emotionally.

While in that toxic relationship, I gained over 60 pounds and went from being very physically active (20k+ steps a day and on my feet for 15+ hours with ease, despite having mild symptoms of POTS) to suffering from barely manageable POTS, vertigo, crippling anxiety, agoraphobia, and severe chronic pain to the point of needing a mobility aid almost constantly.

In the three months since leaving that relationship, I have worked tirelessly to get my health back in my control. A strict diet and daily fitness regimen has helped me lose 20 pounds since November 14th, putting me back under 200 pounds for the first time since 2019 when I started dating him for a total of 48 of those 60 pounds down. Thanks to my new routine, in addition to medication management, my POTS and vertigo have significantly improved and have become essentially a non-issue again. The pain is improving slowly, it's not perfect, but it's under control at least and that's better than nothing in my eyes! Oh, and the agoraphobia/anxiety? Turns out both were directly caused by being in a super toxic relationship where my body was constantly in fight or flight mode. Honestly, the first time (and unfortunately not the last time) I uttered the words "I am afraid of you" in 2020 should have been when I kicked him to the curb but. I guess we all make mistakes. Hindsight is 20/20, quite literally this time 😂

Because I had to leave the apartment that I shared with him, I began the search for a new place to live pretty much immediately. My agent (who is the sweetest woman alive I love her to death) immediately jumped on it and started the search again. I knew she'd find me something amazing because she found that place I was moving out of, too!

And oh my god did she pull through! I just finished completely unpacking at my new place and you guys! Stunning! Not only is it exactly perfectly sized (2.5 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, and about 1200sq feet) I got everything I wanted and more!

It's in a very safe and progressive neighborhood, close to my family, on a quiet street, very private, and it has enough space for all of my things with areas to keep all of my pets (current and future) separated appropriately, huge storage area in the basement so I can store my holiday stuff out of the way (I'm very proud of the fact that I got rid of enough stuff during the move - SIX full cars worth of donations and more in garbage, that I no longer need to keep anything but holiday decor and a couple extra furniture pieces waiting to be sold down there), washer/dryer IN UNIT, parking included with snow removal in winter, top floor of a newly renovated pet-friendly luxury space, and a HUGE YARD with full permission to landscape to my hearts content! Plus, I get to keep the big trampoline in the yard! It's a literal dream come true! My old place was big, but that was all it really had going for it. It was in a not very safe neighborhood, next to a busy road, and had honestly very crummy appliances and was basically infested with flies and other insects (ants, centipedes) that constantly came in through the huge gaps in the baseboards most of the time I lived there. No wonder it was so cheap 😬

My business has been booming, I've got clients lined up and I've actually had to start a waitlist! I've got some other exciting career stuff happening as well! More on that to come as I get more details together!

I'm spending tonight taking a well-earned cozy evening with my kitty and my bunny after working so hard for three months straight! After dinner, I'm gonna get some crafting time in, too!

[sunmoonandeddie]

saturdays

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,467

summary: Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

warnings: Some swearing

a/n:  This was my March 2020 one shot for my Patreon that they received early access to.  Let me know what y’all think!

Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

Sundays are for sleeping in before eventually making his way to Brooklyn, where he picks up three bouquets and an egg, bacon, and cheese breakfast sandwich from Sal’s bodega before going to the cemetery.  He sits against his sister’s tombstone—his parents’ to his right—and eats his late breakfast.  He sits and talks for a few hours before leaving the flowers on their graves.  He always has to have peonies, since those were Becca’s favorites.

Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are for training.  He wakes up at five in the morning to go running with Sam, something he thought would end when Steve went back to be with Peggy Carter.  But he wasn’t bitter.  No.

But which thing he wasn’t bitter about, he’d never tell.

Along with the run, he spends most of the day sparring and battling simulations in the gym.  He has short breaks for meals, but he pretty much is on go until after dinner, when he goes straight to bed.

But Fridays are his favorite.  Because he gets to sleep in until nine-thirty in the morning, which is a luxury he’s not used to.  Then Sam and him grab a late breakfast together before Bucky goes into the city for his therapy session.

And Bucky likes his therapist!  Which he was really, really surprised about!  But Marlene is good.  Marlene is good because she doesn’t placate him.  She calls him out on his shit, and pushes him forward.  Because if it had been up to him, he would’ve stopped seeing her after their third meeting, when she had him drawing with fucking crayons that snapped in his hand way too easily.  But it’s been over a year since he started seeing her, and even though he still has his bad days, his bad days now would’ve been his best days before.

“So, you think you’re finally ready to go through Rebecca’s things?” Marlene asks, looking at him with a peaceful expression.

“I don’t think so, I am,” he says firmly, feeling a rush of triumph as a smile spreads across her lips.  “It’s time, you know?”

She nods in understanding, humming.  “Do you have someone going with you?”

Usually, Sam would go with him for things like this, and just in general.  They were attached at the hip, especially after the whole Steve leaving thing.

Yeah, they were both hit pretty hard with that.

“Yes, but I…”  He sighs, rubbing his hands on his jeans.  “I think this is something I need to do alone.  At least, the going through her stuff part…  But he is going with me to move the stuff to the Tower.”

“Good, good,” she says, her brows slightly furrowed.  “And how are you feeling today about Steve leaving?”

Bucky lets out a huff of air, taking a moment to think about it.  “To be completely honest with you…  I’m kind of over it today.  I have other things to do and yeah, I would’ve liked him to be here for it, but that’s not how it is.  And him leaving is more about him than it is about me.”  He shrugs, his lips pressed into a thin line.  “Just because he decided to go back doesn’t mean he wanted to leave me.”

Marlene sets her clipboard to the side, a warm smile on her face.  “Well, Bucky, I think we’ll end today on that thought.”  She stands up, offering her hand for him to shake as she does everyday.  “You’ve done well today.  You should be proud of yourself.”

He leaves with a wave and a “See you next week!” as he always does.

He hadn’t known about the storage unit full of his sister’s stuff until about eight months ago, when he asked Maria Hill if there was anything left of hers.  He knew that SHIELD had been the ones to take control of her assets when she had no children, since she was the sister of a Howling Commando and the best friend of Captain America.

Becca had died in December of 2013.  He’d missed her by less than six months.

It was heartbreaking when he first found out, and still is, if he was being honest.  But at least he has her stuff to go through, even though he has no idea what all is going to be in the storage unit.  Stevie hadn’t had anything other than what the Smithsonian had snatched up.

The car ride to the storage facility is quiet, Sam at the wheel.  Bucky still hasn’t gotten his license, since he doesn’t see a point.  Why should he when there’s the subway and Uber and even just good old fashioned walking?  “You’ve gotta save the Earth, Sam,” he says when he really feels like irritating the other man.

“You sure you’re ready for this, man?” Sam asks as they stand in front of storage unit 429.

“Yeah,” Buck says, punching in the key code and lifting up the door.  “Yeah, I’m ready.”  He flips the light switch on the wall, and is shocked by just how much stuff there is.  There’s boxes upon boxes upon boxes.

Sam’s hands go to his hips as he looks at it, whistling.  “Alright.  Let’s get it loaded.”

It takes several hours and three trips to get everything from the storage unit to the Tower, and by the end of it, the both of them just collapse on the couch with a couple of beers and a pizza to share between them.

But Saturday morning comes bright and early, and even though it’s his only day out of the week where he has absolutely nothing to do, Bucky knows he has to start going through her things.

The first four boxes are just clothes.  Clothes upon clothes upon clothes.  He finds a baby blue dress that she used to wear for church, starched to perfection, and he holds it to his chest for a long time.  He cries then.

And he knows that the fact that she’s hoarded so many clothes has a lot to do from growing up during the Depression.  He still finds himself falling into old habits of checking the price of food, despite the fact that he never has to worry about money again with his Avengers salary and the backpay from being a POW.

He finds his parents’ wedding rings, and the string of pearls his ma wore for special occasions.

And then he finds an old shoe box, and when he opens it up, he finds letters.  Letters upon letters upon letters.  They’re in bundles, tied together with fraying ribbon.  The paper is yellowed and soft from being folded and unfolded so many times, and he can see the looping black letters that covered the pages.

He takes the ones that look the oldest and unties them, he takes the top one from the stack and sets the rest to the side, before carefully unfolding it.

“Ruthie,” he says quietly as he reads the name at the bottom, not even bothering to read it yet.  “Ruthie…”  His eyes pop open as he suddenly remembers, remembers receiving letters everyday from a girl in the Bronx.  They were never romantic, but it was nice being able to write to someone and not having to hide how bad it was, like he had to with his ma and Becca.  She even sent her picture once, so he could know who he was writing to.  “Ruthie!”

He spends the rest of the day reading the letters, and passes out sometime around four in the morning with his face on a letter.  He takes the letters with him to his family’s graves the next day, reading to them after he replaces the flowers.

It takes him two more days to finish reading all the letters, in between breaks while training and staying up until he absolutely can’t.

He cries a lot while he reads it.  He’s not afraid to admit that.  But it’s nice to remember that he had a friend to listen to him during one of the worst times of his life.

Bucky’s almost afraid to look her up, to find out if she was still alive, and if he could go see her, to thank her.  They wrote back and forth until the day he fell off the train, and he knows that had to be pretty jarring for her.

But then Sam finds out about the letters—it would be hard for him not to, considering that he was walking around with his nose in the letters for days—and it’s all over.

Turns out, she’s alive.  She’s alive, and she’s still in Queens.

He goes the next Saturday, taking his bike all the way to the other borough.  He looks a little intimidating and extremely different from how he looked back then, but he hopes she recognizes him.  He really, really hopes she recognizes him, because otherwise this’ll be real awkward.

He stands in front of the door for a long time, taking his hands in and out of his pockets about eight times before he finally reaches up and knocks.

And then the door opens, and there’s Ruthie.

Well, not Ruthie, though at first glance, you’re the perfect picture of her.  You’ve got her hair and her eyes, and the curve of her lips.  But the nose is different.

“Can I help you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.  You’re wiping your hand on a hand towel, peering at him like you recognize him from somewhere but you don’t know where.

“Hi, uh,” he says slowly.  His throat is suddenly so dry that he can barely talk.  “I’m Bucky.  Bucky Barnes.  I was pen pals with—”

He’s cut off by Ruthie herself appearing in the doorway.  She’s much older—she is ninety-nine, after all—but it’s definitely her.  “Did you say Bucky Barnes?”  The little old lady’s eyes widened as she saw him, her hand over her heart.  “Oh, my stars, it’s really you.  I heard about what happened to you, and I…”  She shakes her head, clicking her tongue.  “Why, it almost gave me a heart attack, you know.”

“Little Ruthie Pratt from Queens,” he says, reaching in his pocket and holding up the letters.  “I found these while, uh, going through my sister’s stuff.”

“I still have mine!” Ruthie says, pulling him inside.

It’s nice and homey and everything that Bucky had thought it would be.  The front foyer is covered in photos, and there’s quite a few of you.  You’re clearly one of Ruthie’s pride and joys, if the sheer amount of them has anything to do about it.

“I used to read these to my grandbaby here,” Ruthie says as she comes back with an old oak jewelry box in hand.  “Anytime she stayed the night—her parents worked a lot when she was growing up—she always asked me to read her one of my ‘Bucky letters.’”

“Grandmama,” you say, cheeks flushing as you avoid his eyes.

“It was so cute!  She used to recite them word for word along with me!” Ruthie teases as they go to the living room.

It’s quaint, with soft pastel colors dominating the room.  He sits on a floral sofa that’s got a circle with dark hair on it, the marking of a furry friend’s favorite spot.  He watches as you move to the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher of what looks like tea and a few glasses.

You sit beside her with the ease of knowing that you belong here, pouring yourself a glass.  “Grandmama, do you want some tea?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she opens the box and looks for the oldest one.  “You keep that monstrosity away from me,” she says.  Seemingly remembering Bucky’s presence, she says, “My daughter’s husband is from Louisiana.  Ridiculous man got both her and my grandbaby addicted to that absolute sludge.”

The secret smile you give him as the two of you listen to her tirade about sweet tea makes him feel at ease, and sets the tone for the rest of the afternoon.

Things go on as normal, or as normal as they can.

And Marlene happens to think that all of this is absolutely fantastic for him.  She loves that he’s now spending time with Ruthie and you, reconnecting with his past while understanding that he doesn’t have to be the person he was in the letters.

He’s different.  He’s not the Bucky that Ruthie knew back then.

It’s an unusually warm day in November four months later when he takes you out for a coffee, just the two of you.  And it isn’t a date—really, it isn’t—but he finds himself wanting it to be about halfway through his second coffee.

And that’s why he starts talking about dating to Marlene, who had, quite frankly, been waiting for him to realize his feelings for a while.

“I think I’m in love with her,” he says as he storms into his therapy session, eyes wild and hair a disarray.  He’s clearly been worrying real hard about it.

Marlene looks up at him, peering over the silver rim of her glasses.  “Oh, really?” She says nonchalantly, as though she doesn’t have you in her notes about him.  “And why is that?”

Bucky can’t help the frown on his face as he realizes that she didn’t even ask who he was talking about, because she knew.  “I…  I don’t know,” he says, slumping into his usual chair.  “She makes me happy.  Happier than I’ve ever been.  And she always makes me laugh, even at the most inappropriate of times.”  His gaze softens the more he thinks about you.  “And she isn’t scared of me.  She doesn’t judge me.  She’s read about everything I did in the war, even before HYDRA, and she doesn’t care.”  His hands are sweating as he rubs them together.  “Actually, it’s not that she doesn’t care—she does care—but she cares because she… she loves me.”

You love him.  And sure, he knows that.  You’ve said that you love him multiple times, even if you only mean it as a friend way.

But the thought that he has someone who loves him that doesn’t have to is… groundbreaking.

“She loves me, and she wants me to be okay,” he says, looking up at Marlene then.

His therapist has a pleased look in her eyes, even if she won’t let it show with a smile.  “I think she’s good for you,” she says simply, her pen held loosely in her hand.  “Are you seeing her again soon?”

“I’m seeing her tomorrow night,” he says, his heart growing light.  “We’re grabbing a few drinks to celebrate her finally graduating from cosmetology school.”

It’s a big deal for you, completely something.  You’re smart, there’s no denying that, but when it comes to schooling…  You’d done well in high school, but college proved to be the bane of your existence.

You’d dropped out in the middle of your junior year, and that had been it.  You’d moved to Queens to live with Ruthie after, working various low level jobs and trying to find something that fit.

But you’d fit in at cosmetology school.  Hell, you excelled.  And you enjoyed it!  You enjoyed waking up in the morning and going to your classes!

You cried when you got your certificate, and it was now framed in Ruthie’s house until you start your first salon job in two weeks.

“Are you going to tell her about your feelings?” Marlene asks curiously.

Now that makes him pause.

“... Should I?” Bucky asks, feeling a wave of anxiety coming over him.  “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?  And she sees me as just a friend?”

“If she’s really your friend, she won’t abandon you just because you tell her you have romantic feelings for her.”

“You sure about that?”

Marlene fixes him with a look, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

He runs his tongue over his teeth.  “Fine.  You’re sure,” he says, slumping a little in his chair.  “Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

She snorts, making a note on her pad.  “I never said it was going to be easy, Bucky.  Doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

The next night, he spends an hour and a half trying to decide what to wear.  “It shouldn’t be this hard,” he grumbles as he switches shirts for the forty-ninth time.  “It’s just drinks.”

Sam, however, is having a great time watching his new best friend freak out over seeing a girl for the first time.  “I mean, she already agreed to going out with your ugly mug, man.  It’s not gonna matter what you wear.”

And in some way, that helps.  A little.

But he does have to threaten Sam with bodily harm if he spies on his date that’s not really a date.

He almost boxes him the ear when he insists for the fourth time that it’s a date.

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers from Sal’s bodega, the buttons of his dark blue henley left open, exposing a smattering of chest hair.

When you open the door, the air is knocked from his lungs.  You look absolutely radiant.  The light from the sinking sun is giving you a halo-like glow, and he’s sure, not for the first time, that you’re an actual angel.

“Hi,” you say, a flush on your cheeks as you see the flowers.  “Are those…  Are those for me?”

He nods dumbly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.  “Y-Yes,” he says, pushing them into your arms.  “As a congrats.  For, you know, graduating.  And stuff.”

“Thank you,” you say as you take them, handing them to Ruthie.

She’s standing just inside the door, a giddy look on her face as she holds the flowers, watching you take the motorcycle helmet from his hands.  “Have her back by twelve!”

“Grandmama!”

“Fine!  Twelve-thirty!”

You’re clearly embarrassed by her antics as he helps you on behind him, guiding your arms around his waist.

“You ready?” He asks, his voice breathy.

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he starts the bike, taking off.

“She doesn’t actually mean that,” you say as he leads you into the tiny, out of the way bar.  You’re fixing your hair, trying your best to appear presentable.  “I’m grown, you know.  I don’t…  I don’t have a curfew.”

A slow smile spreads over his lips as he listens to you ramble.  “I know,” he says finally, figuring he should put you out of your misery.  “Ruthie does like to tease those she loves.”

The bar is quaint, clearly a local place that tourists haven’t invaded.  He leads you to a high table, calling out your order to the lone bartender.

“So, I—”

“I like you,” Bucky says, unintentionally cutting you off with a wince.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I really, really like you, and I really, really want this to be a date, but if you don’t feel the same way then I completely understand and we can just forget that I ever said anything and everything can just go back to normal and that might be the best thing because, quite frankly, I haven’t dated since the forties and I have no idea how dating is supposed to work nowadays, but I’d really like to try it with you but only if you—”

His rambling is cut off as you place your hand on his, intertwining your fingers.  “Okay,” you say, like it’s the easiest thing ever.  “It’s a date.”

He stares at you for an embarrassingly long time, his mouth dry.  “Uh…  What?” He says quietly.  His heart is pounding at an unnaturally fast pace, and he honestly thinks he might be on the verge of a heart attack.

“I like you, too,” you say, smiling at the bartender as he brings you over your drinks.  You look so beautiful, your eyes the brightest thing in the dim lighting of the bar.  “So this is a date.”

“Okay,” he breathes out, a wave of relief washing over him.  “It’s a date.”

He’s a little starstruck as you continue on with what you were going to say before, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.  Your hand stays in his for the rest of the night, occasionally giving a little squeeze as though you’re reminding him that you’re still there and you’re not going to disappear.

And it feels good.

And okay, Marlene may have been right.

And yeah, Fridays might be good.  But as he sits there with you until the late hours of the night, he’s sure: Saturdays are his new favorite day.  Because Saturdays brought him a new beginning when he wasn’t expecting it.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 10

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 3.3k

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

You were on cloud nine. Waking up in Sauls arms the next morning was the highlight of your life. Granted, you were sore! The discomfort was something you were willing to put up with however because last night was mind blowing.

The morning after was filled with gentle playing and heated make out sessions. It was Sunday so luckily neither of you were expected to be anywhere. You showered together, learning each others bodies further. Saul made you breakfast and after that you lay and watched a movie together. Normal, mundane, relationship stuff. It was all you could dream of.

Unfortunately the time came where you had to go back to your dorm. Instead of doing the walk of shame you opted for your new favourite method of transportation. Portal. Saul kissed you deeply before the black whole appeared and you disappeared through it. At least now you could teleport back and forward into his room having seen the inside more clearly.

The girls jumped when your portal appeared in the middle of the room. They’re were on your instantly, eager for the juicy details. You sat down and gave them the PG version, not delving into too much detail. What you both did last night was personal and not for the faint hearted. You also showed off the presents Saul had gotten you and the Winx club squealed in delight when they saw the ring. After your lowdown of the events last night, the girls let you know that the party was a massive hit and if it wasn’t for Terras hangover potion they’d all still be in bed.

Presents adorned the floor of the main room you notice, someone must have brought them up for you. There were so many you didn’t know if you’d manage to open them all on your own. So one by one the girls helped you unwrap the gracious gifts. That took up a chunk of time. Still chatting and opening, Terra blushed and rattled off about how Helia had kissed her goodnight at the end of the party, then you noticed Aisha blushing too, the same thing had happened with her. The specialists were making moves and you couldn’t help but swell with excitement for your friends. Everything was perfect, maybe too perfect.

——————————————————————————————————

-The Next day-

“What do you think the assembly is about?” Your arm was linked with Stella’s as you walked through the grand halls of the castle you called your school. You’d never get used to your real life Hogwarts.

“It’s a burned one assembly apparently and even worse, my mother is leading it. Yippee. She’s really just here to check on my progress and remind me how much of a disappointment I am.” Your best friend rolled her eyes. You were slightly nervous about meeting the Queen of Solaria, I mean, who wouldn’t be. Stella had insisted you’d stay with her. Emotional support. You took her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

The cars pulled up and the chauffeur opened the door for the Queen. Regal and gorgeous, the spitting image of Stella apart from she had brown hair instead of blonde. She came over and greeted Stella with a hug and then stopped. Her eyes widened as she looked at you. She was starring and you didn’t know why….

“Pleasure to meet you your highness.” You curtsied, Stella had shown you how. It seemed to snap the Queen from her daze and she smiled at you.

“How lovely, you must be Y/N, Stella’s told me a lot about you.”

——————————————————————————————————

You’d left Stella to catch up with her mum. Aimlessly wondering the halls looking at features you’d never stopped to appreciate before. Then you saw one flustered looking man.

“Sa- Mr Silva!.” You jogged to catch up to him. He stopped turning. He didn’t smile. Woooah. He looked stressed.

“Now isn’t a great time Y/N.” You wanted to reach out and touch him but there were students all around. Did he really just brush you off though? Must be something serious going on for his shitty attitude.

“Okay.” You whispered. “Well, maybe we can talk when you change your attitude anyway.” You were annoyed. You knew his job was stressful and you knew that you had to act like student and teacher during school hours, however, you’d like to think that he would be a bit more… kinder, even when he was pissed at something else. Before he spoke you’d turned on your heel, flicking your hair behind you and walked off. Suck on that.

——————————————————————————————————

The assembly had started. You weren’t there. You were too annoyed with Saul to sit there while he was up at the front acting as if he wasn’t rude to you two minutes ago. You skipped, wondering the school grounds when you bumped into Bloom.

“Whats your excuse for skipping?” You fell into step with the red head, who explained she was trying to find more about where she came from. Part of you realised that maybe you should have been making more effort in that department. You were still a mystery and going through the books you had stolen from the library in Magix hadn’t turned anything up yet.

You reached a storage cellar, old books, pictures and other junk filled the room to the brim, all covered in dust and cobwebs. Sky was there, he seemed surprised to see you, like wise.

“Maybe while were looking I might find something about me too.” You started searching through things. Not sure at all about what you were looking for when you were then joined by Beatrix and Riven. Not two of your favourite people to say the least.

You didn’t know them too well, but there was a reason for that. Trouble seemed to follow them everywhere and Beatrix gave you a weird vibe. Not good juju. Riven was just a punk. He thought he was the bad boy but it was all an act which you saw straight through. Example A. Beatrix just dropped the bomb that Riven was the one walking around school telling everyone Bloom was a changeling. You still didn’t see the big deal about changelings. You were one too after all. Sky and Riven left, leaving you alone with the two girls.

“So, that door is locked. Are we breaking in or not?” You didn’t wait for their answer. Curiosity getting the best of you. Walking over you put your hand on the lock and picture it heating up. Fire. Another one of the many abilities you possessed. Your magic was second nature to you now. Like you’d been practising for years. It was scary and cool at the same time just how intone with your abilities you were. The lock fell off and the door swung open.

——————————————————————————————————

What the hell had you been dragged into. Honestly this wasn’t really your style. But hey, you’d gotten this far. You were currently in a stolen car, driving to some place called Asterdale. Bloom had a theory that’s where her parents might be from and hey, what do you know, Beatrix knows where it is. So yup, you were in the front of a stolen.. ROYAL car.

Ohhh lord. This wasn’t going to end well.

- Sauls POV -

Where the hell was she. Why wasn’t she at the assembly?! Saul was ragging, scared, angry at himself for being so flippant with Y/N earlier. The visit from the Queen and with the death of a teacher, it was a lot to deal with. He hadn’t meant to take it out on his sweet girl. Now he was just worried. Leaving the assembly would look suspicious so he stayed, part of him hoping she was just running late.

His fears got worse when he went back to Farah’s office. Farah had noticed Y/N wasn’t there either. She was more worried than she’d ever been. Then Y/N’s suit mates burst through the door looking worried too.

“Y/N and Bloom were in the east wing its Beatrix during assembly.” Saul, Farah and Ben all looked at each other.

“Okay and why were they down there?” Farah was quick to get it in the neck from Musa. Who was visibly concerned about something. Saul couldn’t stand still, pacing back and forward.

“Omg we know, we know that someone killed Callum and you think it was a fairy and that’s what you were looking for in the assembly!” Saul’s head whipped round to Terra. “We haven’t heard from them in hours and no one as seen Beatrix either.” Saul’s thoughts were interrupted by a voice through the ear piece he was wearing.

“One of the Queens Guards are knocked out, his SUV is gone.” Sauls jaw clenched and made his way to the door. He was mad. If Beatrix had hurt his girl in any way, there would be hell to pay.

“We will find them, I promise.”

——————————————————————————————————

-Your POV-

The place Beatrix took you to was bare. Was this some kind of sick joke? You drove two hours for this? Nothing but open fields and shrubs next to a steep looking cliff over looking choppy, cold water.

“And this is where you’ve taken us to kill us, right?” You joked but part of you was actually worried. You’d always thought Beatrix was a shady bitch. “Asterdale is a town right? So where is it?” You stopped, looking into the vastness. Bloom looked twitchy, annoyed almost because you guaranteed she was thinking the same thing as you.

You were alarmed all of a sudden when your ears pricked up at the sound of electricity, turning just in time to see Bloom shouting at Beatrix who’s hands were glowing with power.

“You’re not the only powerful fairies at Alfea you know.” Yup, you were right. You were so about to die. You raised your hands ready for a fight but the bolt of blue electricity burst past you hitting an invisible forcefield just like the one that surrounded the school and crashed with a loud bang, revealing chaos behind it.

Beatrix went on to tell you both about how Asterdale used to be a beautiful place, but one winter Burned Ones surrounded the settlement and a Military Unit from Alfea decided destroying the Burned Ones was more important than the lives of the people living there. How Queen Luna was the one who had put up the veil that stopped people from really seeing what had happened to the once thriving village. Then she went onto drop the bomb that Asterdale is where she was born and her family were killed there. The only people who survived were her… and you and Bloom. You were from Asterdale?

“I saw it, Dowling, Silva, Harvey.” Beatrix had tears rolling down her face. No, no…. Saul would never kill innocent people. Never. He couldn’t… that wasn’t your Saul. You whipped quickly at the stray tears that had fallen. He knew about this and he didn’t tell you? Did he know where you were from and he didn’t tell you because… he had a hand in killing a village full of innocents?

You’d heard enough and couldn’t bare to listen to anymore. You walked away, Beatrix and Bloom still talking about what had happened. You watched as the veil came down again slowly, covering up the evidence of a war crime. It was gone, just like that. As if nothing ever happened. As if the people that had once lived there never mattered. Forgotten in time.

Bloom still didn’t trust Beatrix, and neither did you. You opted for sitting in the back this time. Keeping an eye on the girl you hardly knew. What game was she playing? You felt like there had to be more to the story. Why would you and Bloom be hidden away in the first world? Why would Dowling, let you and Bloom into the school knowing that she killed your families?

“And we will get it because Rosalind is alive.” You caught the tail end of the convo, having been zoned out with your own thoughts. Hold the fuck up. The mysterious woman who had been leaving cryptic messages in Blooms head was.. Alive? After Miss Dowling told her that she had been dead for years. The plot thickens. You were about to make a comment but something on the road caught your eye.

“Oh fuck.” You braced yourself against the seat in the back as you watched Saul fire an arrow at the wheel of the car. It burst, sending the car skidding across the road. This was nottt going to be good.

You all jumped out of the car, Beatrix tried to run but Farah had used her magic and she was slowly sinking into the ground. Miss Dowling walked over, slapping on two bracelets on Beatrix’ wrists, it looked like coiled pieces of barbed wire. You didn’t care if B was shady, no one deserved that pain. Both you and Bloom bolted from the car with shouts of protest. You were lifted up into Sauls arms where you kicked and screamed to get free. Bloom was held back by Mr Harvey who was a lot stronger than he looked. You gave up, settling into Sauls arms, he was whispering in your ear trying to calm you, his hold on you tightening. Normally you’d feel comfort in his touch, but the story from Beatrix left you with some unanswered questions too big to go ignored.

——————————————————————————————————

The girls were waiting for you outside. Stella grabbed you in a hug, you could tell she was worried. Saul was carting Beatrix away to her magic prison cell, not before letting you know that he’d speak to you later. Duty called. Duty sucked.

“Y/N, after we deal with Beatrix see me in my office, there’s something important we must discuss.” You glared at Miss Dowling who gave you a sympathetic look. Stella squeezed your arm.

“Y/N, you need to hear what she has to say. It’s important.” How did Stella know what she wanted to talk about. This whole day was one big bowl of confusing and you just wanted it to be over with. “Just know, I’ll be here when you’re ready, I promise.” Okay, so that wasn’t worrying at all…..

“I’m afraid miss Y/L/N, Stella won’t be able to keep that promise any time soon. Were leaving, Stella get in the car.” Stella’s eyes widened as she watched her things from the dorm being packed into her mothers car. The Queen was waiting for Stella to do what she said and this was one battle you wouldn’t win. Could you catch a break?

“No, No, NO, Stella you can’t leave, please I need you, you’re my best friend.” You were crying, the frustrations of the day coming out all at once. Stella was crying too but the Queens guards took her by the arms despite her struggles and stuffed her in the car. It was too much, you were sobbing, your vision blurry from the tears. You felt someone come up behind you and noticed the familiar tingle, crying harder as the car sped off into the distance. You turned and screamed in Sauls chest, luckily his strong arms were around you otherwise you’d have fallen to the ground in despair. Could today get any worse?

——————————————————————————————————

Replaying the events from today to the other girls was hard. Luckily Bloom did most of the talking. Beatrix had apparently killed Callum and things were even more confusing now. You didn’t know who to trust, who to believe. Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Saul. Your tired looking soldier was standing at the door with heavy eyes. “Babe, can you come with me please, Farah wants to talk to you.” She’d already spoken to Bloom about the events earlier. Now it was your turn after having time to calm down about Stella.

Standing up silently, you made your way to the door, the girls hugging you on the way out. You had the urge to ask Saul everything there and then. Let the cat out of the bag. Say ‘I know what you did,’ but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You didn’t want to believe the reason you were an orphan was because of the man you loved. Instead you took his hand when the coast was clear and sighed, having needed his touch all day.

You found yourself at the Headmistresses office more often than not these days, but this time something felt different. You turned to Saul and look him in the eyes.

“Why do I feel like if I go in there life will never be the same again.” His hand came up to touch your cheek which you leant into, savouring his warm touch.

“Darling, everything is okay, everything will be okay I promise.” People had been making a lot of promises today, hopefully they would be able to keep them. You started for the door but then noticed Saul didn’t budge.

“Are you not coming in?” You tilted your head. He shook his and gave you a kiss before you went through the doors.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me though.” With that you left him, facing whatever punishment Headmistress Dowling had in store for you.

——————————————————————————————————

It hadn’t been as bad as you thought in the beginning. She sat you down, asked you if you wanted a drink or anything. Then she got into the nitty gritty stuff about what compelled you to go with Beatrix and Bloom. Answers. Answers you needed, that’s why you went with them.

“Bloom said something about her parents being from a place called Asterdale, Beatrix knew where it was. She took us there, we hoped we would find answers about why we were changelings. Turns out we learnt an ugly truth instead.” Farah looked shocked but you continued. “She said that Rosalind took her, me and Bloom, saved us from destruction cause by you, Silva and Harvey. Is that true?” Farah had her head in her hands. Guilt. You could practically smell it on her.

“It’s not what you think Y/N, please believe me, there’s more to the story.” She stood up, walking around to stand next to you. You stood up to, moving away from the woman who had set Saul up to spy on you. How could you believe her, all she’s done since you joined this world was lie.

“Why would I believe you! You killed my fucking parents!” You were angry. So angry, You could feel your eyes turning black. The shouting had alerted Saul who tried the door handles to get into the room but with a swish of your hand, the door was sealed shut, fire melting the hinges closed.

“Just calm down Y/N, please, lets talk about this.” In the background Saul was banging on the door and calling your name.

“Because of you, I don’t have a father, because of you I’ll never know my mother!” You advanced on the woman who had her hands up ready for a fight if that’s what it came to. You could feel the power coursing through your whole body. This is why you could control your magic so easily, you were so emotional.

“Y/N, I am your mother!” Farah screamed, Saul stopped banging on the door and your eyes faded back to their normal colour.

You knew before stepping into the room that something was going to happen and you were right, your world would be changed forever.

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

So, I bet you didnt expect that to happen.. Please let me know what you thought in the comments, Like, Follow and Reblog! <3 If you want to join the tag list please let me know !

CHAPTER 11 ------- CLICK HERE

Tag List

@tinktohispan

@azure23x

@alexiapayne12

@codykosuckmytoe

@lllyyysss02

@kingunder221b

@a-scrumptiouslywingedstudent

@music-of-melody

@cecedrake2217

@anreeixcobra

@sporadicsaladcloudgoop

@616hotchners

@janelongxox

@lflores2008

@shadowhuntyi

[danideservedbetter]

Days 324, 325, 326, 327

It’s been half a week and I spent it mostly asleep. Didnt get any work done. Didnt get any writing done. I’m getting virtually no REM sleep anymore and I can barely function.

Everything’s in pieces and it feels almost exactly like it did a year ago, except I’m not around my family much so there’s no energy to fight.

My landlady has come out and said that I’m basically good for nothing and that since I didn’t skip school to move my stuff out she has half a mind to dump it on the curb. Even though I told her I wouldn’t be able to go til tomorrow. I’ve been talked to like dirt (again) because I had the nerve to take the initiative everyone in my life said I lacked and went back to college.

How am I supposed to keep trying when all I get is punished for it?

I don’t want to move tomorrow. I don’t have the strength and I don’t have the emotional capacity to navigate a fight with my landlady (she INSISTS that no one is allowed in her house without her there which speaks volumes of what she thinks of me). I don’t want to see my father. I don’t have time to drive two hours in the morning and then two hours back after spending who knows long moving. Even worse my dad decided not to get a storage unit and keep my stuff at his house. His wife is already complaining about it, of course.

Last but not least my backup plan in case I don’t get to be a counselor for summer camp is out. My great uncle, the father of the cousins I was supposed to go stay with this summer, passed away. I can’t move in on top of them while they’re dealing with that, considering the problems I cause everywhere I go. I’m just sick over it too because we thought he was getting better.

I just want to feel safe and wanted and accepted for once. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make things better when I can’t even stand up on my own two feet, literally. Home shouldn’t have an expiration date. It’s embarrassing and it’s frustrating. I want to write, I want to work on these projects I’ve been looking forward to. I even want to do schoolwork. But I physically can’t.

It never ends.

[fallingappleshurt]

Could you possibly write a SBI FD AU of all of the boys at Christmas. Could be at Christmas or any other time during the winter. Genuinely all I want to read right now. <3

Ty, Anon

Snowy Boys Incorporated (Part 1/2)

Sorry y’all, apparently word limits are a thing but anyways here it is!

Sorry if the flow of this was weird, it jumps from Phil to Tommy to Techno back to Tommy then to Wilbur, I have no excuse

This AU was made my the wonderful @antarctic-bay go check her out! And please keep in mind my writing isn’t canon!

Also the two times French is mentioned I used google translate because I am tired

Anyways hope you enjoy!

Phil parked the car and texted Techno and Wilbur to come help him and Tommy with the tree and ornaments. He turned off the engine and pocketed his phone, hoping Techno and Wilbur had actually moved the furniture to make room for the tree while him and Tommy had actually got the tree and ornaments from a storage unit.

“Phil- Phil! The tree is stuck!” Tommy said, Phil could hear him yanking at the box.

“Hang on, watch the ice,” Phil came around to the trunk of the car, ignoring the snowflakes fluttering down, he saw Tommy trying to shake the box from it’s jammed position.

“How did you manage this?”

“I don’t know!”

“Let me try,” Phil grabbed the sides of the box, trying to slowly wedge it out, but to no avail. “How did you do this?”

“Wh- How is this my fault?” Tommy cried, starting to pull at the box again.

“You’re the one that packed it!”

“What are you guys doing?” Phil looked over to see Techno standing by the car, eyebrow raised.

“Tommy’s shit at packing and got the tree stuck.”

“That sounds like him-”

“Hey!”

“You’re just mad-” Techno was caught off guard by Wilbur coming up behind him, slipping, and knocking them both to the ground.

“Wilbur what the fuck!”

“I slipped!”

“Get off of me!” Phil cackled as Tommy laughed loudly, wheezing at the end.

“That’s what you get for being an asshole! Instant karma!”

Techno responded by grabbing a fist full of snow and throwing it at Tommy, it landed on his chest and he yelped.

“It got in my shirt!”

“Good.”

After Techno and Wilbur had untangled themselves and dusted the snow from their clothes, they started to help them with the tree. They ended up having Techno climb into the car and lower one of the backseats and after much more struggling and wiggling the box they managed to free the tree from its very old, silver chamber.

Wilbur grabbed the boxes of ornaments and started up the stairs while Tommy and Techno followed with the tree and Phil locked up the car, listening to his brother's banter and hoping they actually wouldn’t try to race up the stairs.

He was glad to see his brothers more relaxed, they had all been stressed with finals right before break, he had come home from work many nights seeing them with books and papers spread out across the table, empty cups of coffee and energy drink cans littered around.

It was nice to see them fooling around.

Phil entered the apartment and slipped off his shoes, throwing them in the pile, to see Techno dragging the tree out of it’s box while Tommy and Wilbur pulled cobwebs off of ornaments.

They set up the tree in the corner of the room by a window and started to mess with the cords to plug in the lights, after unplugging and replugging every cord they managed to fit the tree lights in.

They started decorating, adding on colorful glass balls and a few candy canes just to be extra even though they knew Wilbur would eat them later.

Phil grabbed his personal favorite ornament, a wooden one with Snoopy and Woodstalk wearing santa hats in the snow, and hung it on the tree. They each had a favorite ornament, Techno’s was a mini violin, Wilbur’s an ornate snowflake, Tommy’s was a glass pickle. They were all hung on the front of the tree where they were easily seen.

They still had some of the little foam ornaments, the kind that are made in elementary school and kept for nostalgia and nostalgia only. Some still had pictures, Phil with an old striped bucket hat that they only let him keep for the first day of school. He missed that hat, it had been lost in a move.

Pulling more from the box, he found a snowman with a picture of Techno, glasses too big for his face, smiling shyly at the camera with paint on his hands. A baby blue foam mitten had a picture of Wilbur, who wasn’t facing the camera, with wild hair and a huge grin on his face as he slapped at a toy keyboard. A fading gingerbread man had a picture of Tommy grinning, eyes squeezed shut with colorful band aids across his face.

He took pictures with his phone and hung them up on the tree, much to his younger brother's annoyance.

Wilbur scrapped old tinsel out of the bottom of the boxes and put a few strands on the tree. Tommy grabbed the bundles of old lights and proceeded to strong them along the walls of the apartment.

“These are the next best things to LED lights,” He said, almost matter-of- factly, Phil just laughed as Tommy attempted to tape some of the wire to the wall. He was eventually able to pull it off after continually yelling at Techno to bring him duct tape and ‘fucking help him or he’d shake the bunk’.

After they had finished setting it up, they turned off all the lights except for the tree and strung ones on the wall. The colorful candy ones shown in the window by the tree and the golden light showed nicely against their white walls.

“The yellow lights kind of look like fireflies,” Techno mused, rubbing at his eyes.

“Maybe in video games, but this is the real world,” Tommy scoffed.

“Aww, are you tired?” Wilbur teased voice raising multiple octaves, “Little Blade need a na-”

Techno shoved Wilbur’s face away, “Shut up Wilbur,” He grumbled.

“When was the last time you slept?” Phil asked.

“Uh,” Techno paused for much longer then necessary, “Can’t remember.”

“Huh, that’s definitely not concerning-”

“I think this looks great!” Tommy interrupted, “Considering half of this stuff was covered in cobwebs!”

Phil nodded, “Oh wait, we forgot the star!” He started digging through one the boxes, his brothers left him to it and sat down on the couch. The star was always Phil’s thing, it was never a spoken rule, just something they had agreed on. Once he found it, Phil placed it on the tree then sat down next to his brothers.

He asked Wilbur about his day and Wilbur told him about finals hell and how every student looked dead or was trying to sleep in the cafeteria.

He turned to the others only to find that Techno and Tommy had already passed out, leaning on each other. Phil nudged Wilbur with his elbow, nodding towards the sleeping pair. They both pulled out their phones, taking pictures.

“Blackmail?” Phil asked, a grin pulling at his lips. Wilbur nodded.

“Blackmail.”

Phil took Techno’s glasses off of his face and set them on the coffee table and Wilbur covered them with a blanket.

The next morning Tommy sat up groggily, his first thought being that he was really hungry, so after untangling his and Techno’s limbs he padded into the kitchen. He started making a bowl of cereal and scrambled eggs, he made them in the lazy way, whisking the eggs with a fork then putting them in the microwave.

Then he remembered that it had been snowing the day before and rushed over to the window. A thick white blanket covered the terrain, sparkling white with soft gray clouds coating the sky. He opened the window and poked at the snow. He squished a fistful in his palm, it was packed, heavy snow.

Perfect for snowball fights.

He was going to destroy his brothers.

He closed the window then went to grab his food and sat at the table. A few minutes later he saw Techno sit up and rub at his eyes, Tommy watched him look around for a moment.

“Glasses are on the coffee table,” He supplied, taking a bite of cereal, Techno gave him a thumbs up then headed into the kitchen, starting to make a cup of coffee.

“Why don’t you eat breakfast?” Tommy asked, Techno looked over at him, glaring at his food.

“Why do you eat breakfast? It’s too early for food,”

“But not too early for coffee?”

“It’s never too early for coffee Tommy.”

Techno sat down across from him, obviously still trying to wake up fully. Just as Tommy was finishing his food Phil emerged from the hallway.

“You guys ready for today?”

“Heh?”

“What’s happening today?”

Phil raised an eyebrow, “Did you forget? We are helping down at the St Francis soup kitchen- my friend is low on people-I told you about this a week ago.”

“I completely forget,” Techno’s response was muffled by the coffee cup.

“Well we gotta be there in like an hour, get moving!”

Tommy put his dishes in the sink and saw Wilbur standing in the hall, staring him down.

“Hey Tommy, didn’t you wanna shower this morning?” He asked, eyes drifting towards the bathroom.

“Wilbur don’t-”

“Tommy-”

“Wilbur don’t-” Tommy’s begging was cut off as Wilbur shot to the side, dove into the bathroom and slammed the door. Tommy rushed over, pounding on the flimsy wood.

“Damn it Wilbur! Open the door!”

He heard the shower start and pounded harder.

“Wilbur you bitch!”

“Tommy it is too early for you to be this loud-” Techno said from the table.

“I’ll be quieter sooner if you help me open the door!”

Techno considered it for a moment then stood up, “Where is that bent coat hanger-”

“For fucks sake-” Phil put a hand on Tommy’s chest then knocked on the door, “Wilbur! You got ten minutes!”

Wilbur’s ‘okay’ was muffled from the door, Tommy sighed, leaning on the door, deciding he would absolutely beat the shit out of his brothers later.

They were running late because of course they were, between the fight for the bathroom, getting the car cleaned off and getting to the soup kitchen in the day before Christmas traffic was not the easier task, at least for the Pandels.

They finally pulled up to the soup kitchen and parked in the back, heading inside. They had barely managed to take off their coats before an employee pulled them into the kitchen.

Tommy was barely able to process what the man said, something about being understaffed, and shoved Tommy next to another boy who was sorting out juice boxes and fruit cups onto trays.

His brothers were being pulled aside to do actual cooking, they had done it before once when Tommy was sick and had to stay home.

After sorting and setting out all of the food along a conveyor belt type thing, Tommy wasn’t really sure what it was, they pulled up a metal covering so people could come get food.

Each person had to pass out different foods to people, Tommy was put at the end of the conveyor belt, handing out christmas cookies. Wilbur was next to him, offering different drinks.

Multiple different people came down the line, filling their plates with food and sitting down in the cafeteria. There was a TV in the corner and a bookshelf, other people milled about, soft chatter against the pots and pans clattering in the kitchen.

Two kids walked through the line with their parents, the girl looked at Wilbur and wrinkled her nose.

“Your hat looks weird,”

Tommy cackled and gave her an extra cookie.

Eventually they shut the windows and started to clean up the kitchen, putting plates and trays into a huge dishwasher, boxing things up in a walk in freezer and handing out non perishables to people as they left.

Tommy leaned against the counter, Techno and Phil were taking off aprons and putting them in a laundry pile, his shoulders loosened. They had helped people, it felt good;

“Just helped some people- feeling good-”

“Just killed a woman, feeling good!” Wilbur cut in, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, he elbowed him back. “Dickhead,”

“Hey! We’re gonna be heading out soon!” Phil called across the kitchen.

“Is there anything else we have planned?” He asked Wilbur.

“We’re making cookies,”

“Why?”

Wilbur shrugged, “Cause Techno got some new recipes from that gang of Lesbians at school.”

Tommy shuttered, “Oh I remember them, they scare me-”

“I thought you said they were cool,” Wilbur interjected, starting to follow Phil out the door.

“They are! But they also scare the shit out of me!”

Wilbur laughed, “As they should.”

Techno was watching Tommy slide around the kitchen in his socks when Phil asked; “Techno, you said you had some new recipes?”

He nodded, “Yeah, the Lesbian group chat gave me some,”

He remembered getting them was an interesting process, he asked them if they knew of any good cookie recipes and they had all started spamming for one girl to get online. When she did get online he asked the question again. She responded in all caps ‘You fucking fuck! Of course I have some! I am a cottagecore lesbian! What do you take me for!’ Then sent him 7 different recipes.

Wilbur snorted, “I still can’t believe you got taken in by a group of lesbians.”

Techno rolled his eyes and sent two of the recipes to Phil, who was preheating the oven.

“Why are we making so many?” Tommy asked, grabbing the baking sheets from the cabinets.

“They are for the neighbors,” Phil said.

“As a gift?”

“As an apology, you guys are fucking loud.”

Techno smiled, getting out the measuring cups and starting to put ingredients into the bowl. One was a recipe for sugar cookies, which is what he and Wilbur were doing, and the other were snickerdoodles which Phil and Tommy were in charge of.

Techno and Wilbur always worked well together, they flowed around each other, passing ingredients and helping each other out. Meanwhile Phil and Tommy had spilled half of the things they were trying to get into the bowl.

As Wilbur and Techno put their cookies in the oven, Phil nudged Tommy.

“Tommy, where is the rest of the butter, you said you grabbed more,”

“I did, I grabbed-”

“Then give it to me,”

Tommy didn’t move, “Hey Phil, remember when I said I had the butter-well- I lied.”

“What!”

“Don’t worry Phil, We still have some over here,” Wilbur passed a stick of butter behind him.

“Do you guys want some help-” Techno asked, biting his tongue, Tommy pushed him away.

“No! We got this!”

So Wilbur and Techno hung out in the living room while Phil and Tommy tried not to kill each other over cookies. It turned out to be for the best though because when they were ready to put their cookies in, Wilbur and Techno’s were done.

The two decorated their cookies with colored sprinkles, the recipe said it was optional but Wilbur had made the excellent point that sprinkles should never be optional.

Once Phil and Tommy’s cookies were done and left out too cool, Techno’s phone buzzed.

[sylvie-writes]

Bad (3): Memories We Used to Share

First inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

Summary: It’s time to move out! 6 months of getting your life sorted, along with a few surprises, some pleasant, others not so much.

A/n: My search history is looking weird, due to this series haha. I’ve been reading multiple articles about uncontested divorce just to get an understanding for this series lmao. 

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I’m not a law school graduate, so I can’t say I really know what in the hell I am talking about. With that being said, if I screw up the divorce process in this chapter and/or the next, please don’t come at me. Our law system is confusing and I’m just here to write, no one said it would be accurate lol. 

Warnings: mild profanity & your typical cheesy, predictable fanfic by yours truly. 

Shoutout: MANY THANKS TO THE ANON WHO GAVE ME SOME IDEAS TO MAKE THIS A SERIES!

As always, plz pardon any mistakes, the stories are always proofread but I tend to make many mistakes regardless.

Series Masterlist

For six months, you worked to get your life back together. 

By the end of April, a week after you yelled at your (ex) husband, you had successfully packed up your stuff, without being bothered by the man. Ever since the night you had confronted him, the two of you never stood in the same room or even looked the other in the eye. So it worked in your favor today that he was busy with his new flame, probably entertaining her with a trip to Prada. Never once did you take a break, for eight straight hours, you spent one whole Saturday organizing and strategically packing your things away. Around eight o’clock, all of the boxes were stacked by the front door, ready to be moved into the U-haul trailer attached to your car. Lucky for you, Ransom could care less about what was his and what was yours. The dog, also going home with you. In truth, ever since that day you rightfully ripped the man for his mistakes, a black cloud has loomed over his head, no matter what he may be on the outside, he’s broken on the inside. 

One more box was left in the bedroom, and you quickly jogged up the stairs to get it. Unbeknownst to you, as you were upstairs, Ransom and Blair had come home, apparently mindless to your car in the driveway, because when you walked down the stair box in hand the two pulled away from each other’s lips, staring at you.

You had made an agreement with Ransom that he’d not show up while you packed your things. He had done a good job so far, up until now that is. “Oh, (y/n), I didn’t think you’d be here this late. You should get some rest.”

His “concern” disgusted you. Now he decides to care about you? I think not.

Filled with rage, you drop the cardboard box, letting the contents inside shatter. In most divorces, there wouldn’t be this much emotion, but it hurt you beyond words can describe, to see this man that you loved with every inch of your body, kissing another woman, in YOUR house. You could even see yourself in her shoes, because damn, once upon a time, you WERE her. 

“Are you okay!” Blair came rushing to your side, to try and move you out of the shattered glass. She seemed like a genuinely nice person, and had she not been a home-wrecker, you’d want to be her friend. But at this moment, all you could think about was that she wasn’t even bothered by the fact that she’d been seeing a married man. So, just as Blair tried to help you, you pushed away her hands and collapsed on the steps, lightly sitting in the glass, yet numb to the pain. The weight of the world had finally, physically pushed you to the ground. You were at wits end, and things were looking pretty dark. At this point, you couldn’t even see the light at the end of the tunnel. What had you done to deserve this and would there be a second chance for you? 

Just then, Ransom came to remove Blair, telling her to go get ready for bed, the two clearly coming from a night of clubbing. As she ran up the stairs, mindful of the glass, Ransom came to pick you up. Grabbing your arms, you laid limp against his chest, willingly letting him carry you down the stairs. Oh how you missed his caring touch, why couldn’t things be different? It should've been you out dancing with him, you lip locked with him. Instead, here you were, letting the man who single-handedly destroy your life, carrying you to the couch, laying a blanket and a long kiss on your cheek. Consumed with emotions, sleep soon took over your body before you could protest and leave the house. Had you only heard Ransom’s apology.

“I’m so sorry my precious (y/n), it shouldn’t have been this way, my love.” A few stray tears rolled down Ransom’s cheek as he sadly sauntered up the stairs. 

Ironic, how in a house that was once yours, a new woman took your spot in the bed, besides your once husband, while you slept on the couch like a toy banned to the isle of misfits. 

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee and giggles. You were angry at yourself, no doubt, how could you be so vulnerable by staying at the house? Before you could think anymore, you walked to get your keys, finding that Blair was in the kitchen, cooking pancakes for Ransom, who sat at the kitchen table with coffee and the newspaper. You kinda screwed yourself, by leaving your car keys on the kitchen table. It was your only escape and unfortunately it meant interacting with dumb and dumber. 

The two once again forgot you were there, shocked to see your form walking through the doorway. With a fake smile, you grumbled out a few choice words.

“Don’t worry, I’m getting out of your house ya lovebirds!”

Victory at last. Your words stung Ransom, well, rather word. In another time, you’d say our house, but now, it was no longer the Drysdales’ Household, no, it was Drysdale’s Household, hence why you reminded Ransom that he was alone. Sure, Blair was there but you both knew it wouldn’t last. 

That day, when Ransom and Blair had once again left, going god knows where, Ransom texted you that you could pack your boxes into the u-haul trailer. Since you just wanted to haul ass out of the place this morning, you left the trailer and boxes behind, making a beeline to the nearest bar. So far you had handled yourself without alcohol, but now you needed some relief, specifically in a few whiskey sours. Around 3pm, Ransom then sent that text, and you sobered up, gracefully throwing up in the bathroom stall, then driving to the house to officially get out of his life. Even with a major headache, you managed to pack the trailer. It was then that you realized you were destined to function alone, you didn’t need Ransom. Screw him. 

In May, you went around town, scanning different apartments finally finding one. Unfortunately, there was a waitlist with three people in front of you, the estimated move in time being late July or August. With that being said, you moved all your things into a storage unit and continued to live in a hotel room. Thank the heavens you kept your job, despite Ransom’s pleas for you to stay home when you were married. Somehow, you were able to juggle working and functioning around others, coming home to be your true self, the night normally ending with takeout and tv. This divorce had truly ruined your life, and Ransom’s. The two of you constantly lived with the rain cloud, never once catching a break and seeing a rainbow overhead. For now, you were just separated and soon you’d file for divorce.

Around the last week of May, your life was turned upside down once again. This time, for a good reason. 

Currently, you were on lunch break, eating at a nearby diner with your closest work friend, Lorraine Bailey. She really has been your best friend, taking the title that used to belong to Ransom. At least she was loyal, understanding, and wasn’t a backstabbing bitch *ahem* your ex.

“How are you holding up, honey?”

You were too busy staring into the nothingness of your chicken sandwich, that when Lorainne gently shook your resting hand, you let out an incoherent “huh?”

“I was asking how you are doing? With everything that’s been going on in the past few months--”

Before she could answer, you just snapped, quickly yelling at the woman, who wasn’t trying to be nosy, she was genuinely concerned. 

“Could you just stop nosing around? It’s none of your business really!” 

At that, Lorraine leaned back in her seat, lowering her head like a scolded child. Honestly, you didn’t mean what you had just said and you had no clue where it came from. Lately, your mouth has been an unreliable thing, for you could barely control your answers without acting like a moody child.

Quickly, you excused yourself, lightly jogging to the bathroom to expel the few glasses of water you drank. As you washed your hands, upon looking in the mirror, you were met with a face you barely knew. Sure, you looked the same  on the outside, but on the inside you were a different person. No longer peppy or truly happy. Ransom had taken it all from you, but it was time to take that back. Walking out the bathroom door, you vowed to yourself from this point on you’d try to become your old self. 

Surprisingly, Lorraine still sat at the booth, allowing you to give her a real and sincere apology.

“Lorraine, I’m so sorry, I can’t even fathom the words to justify my actions. Lately, I haven’t been able to truly control my emotions and I took it out on you. That was wrong and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it, after all you’ve always been here for me.”

The woman smiled at you, despite the tears rolling down your face. Why were you crying and since when did you become such an emotional person? You weren’t cold hearted, but nor were you one to cry at a movie. 

“That’s fine, I know you are under a lot of pressure. What do you say we get out of here and spend the rest of break at the bakery across the street?”

“I’d say you know me very well!” 

Soon, you flagged down the waitress and paid the tab, ignoring Lorraine’s pleas to pay for lunch. It was the least you could do after yelling at the poor woman. As you left the restaurant, the guilt was still surfacing in your body and you felt the need to hug your best friend, who was happily surprised, hugging you back. 

Once in the bakery, you were met with the sight of homemade chocolates, like your dog at home, you were practically drooling. Let’s just say the baker was stunned when you bought two dozens of chocolate, and then proceeded to eat half on the way out. What was even more surprising, was that about a seventy-five percent of your order was chili dark chocolate. 

As you were walking down the street, and to work, Lorraine reached over, tasting one of your chocolates, a chili one to be exact. Her face twisted with disgust and her suspicions were confirmed. 

“Uh, (y/n), I think I might have an explanation for your constant mood swings, the amount of times you leave to the bathroom, and why you’d buy this absolute garbage!”

The minute she listed all the symptoms together, you immediately denied her. 

“Don’t even say it. I’m just moody because I’m mad, I pee a lot because, uh-”

“Exactly! Even you can’t explain all of it. Just do me a favor and buy a test. It won’t hurt anything to try.”

“Yeah, but I know you are wrong, Lorraine.”

“I mean c'mon, don’t you want to know too?”

At that moment, the two of you were halted in front of a CVS, Lorraine pointing at the store like she was Vanna White. 

Your conscience: Maybe you should listen to the woman, after all she has three kids!

And so you did.

Thank god your friend was there, because you were an absolute novice in this field. Sure, you wanted kids, but right now you were praying that you were just having an irregular cycle due to stress. Lorraine, the best, best friend anyone could ask for, bought the test to spare you the embarrassment. 

The minute you walked into work, Lorraine pulled you into the bathroom, giving you instructions, you following them, then waiting for the timer to beep.

Any minute now you’d find your results, and for some reason part of you wanted this test to be positive. It would be nice to have a little company.

Once the timer beeped, you looked at the plastic stick that held your future, immediately smiling when your answer was pregnant.

You were pregnant!

But the father...

Unlike Ransom, you weren’t unfaithful and unfortunately, the father was no doubt him. Of course, the one time that asshole sleeps with you, he got you pregnant. And to think at the time, he didn’t even really love you just enraged you even more. It was gonna be a while till you got over this. 

So the rest of the day you were thrilled, and it was a lot easier to stick to your vows from earlier. Your mood was noticeably different to many of your coworkers, smiles all around. The old (y/n) was slowly reappearing. 

June through July, you spent your days, working and when not working, taking advice on a baby from Lorraine, even visiting her doctor who she so highly recommended. Fortunately, the doctor didn’t prod around in your life and was absolutely judge-free about your situation. You couldn't have been more grateful. 

In early July, you reached the second trimester, where the slightest bump formed on your stomach. Now it wasn’t noticeable to everyone, but to you, just the slightest site made your lips turn upward into a smile. Motherhood was the best thing to happen to you. And to make matters even better, your baby was going to be a Christmas baby, making his or her appearance at the end of December! 

Telling Ransom was gonna be a whole other story.

Finally, August 3rd came around, and the apartment complex office called, an opening for you. Lease signed, you shelled out your first payment and soon moved in, once again alone. It had been months since you’d heard from Ransom and honestly it was nice. 

The month of August flew by, and soon September came. Time passed by with flying colors and your mood had improved a bit, the baby in your stomach making life worth living. On the last Friday of September, your work friends decided that they all needed to go out, inviting you the first weekend of October to go ice-skating and out for dinner! It was time you treated yourself to something nice, so you giddily agreed. What could go wrong? 

That Friday, after work, Lorraine came to pick you up, the two of you going to meet the rest at the ice skating rink. Being 26 weeks pregnant, your stomach had finally started showing, allowing your coworkers to start nagging you. Last they had all heard, you were divorced. So when they asked, you kept your lips shut, it really wasn’t any of their business. The only one who knew was Lorraine, but she wasn’t a gossiper.

Arriving at the ice rink, the cold Massachusetts air was blowing, making you zip up your trench coat ever the slightest. Unfortunately, the wind wasn’t the only thing making your blood run cold. 

Most of your coworkers were out on the ice, Lorraine going out too, you told her you’d be out soon. It was nice to watch the skaters enjoy their time on the ice till you saw him. 

The familiar tan suede coat made your face lose all warmth, your own jacket no longer keeping you warm. Beside the laughing man, was the one and only, Blair, except this time a new accessory on her finger. A diamond ring you could see all the way from your table along the side of the rink. His laughter made you sick, and at this point you wanted to throw up the hot cocoa you had been sipping on. 

At the moment, you and Ransom were in the middle of divorce, thank the heavens an uncontested one, having been able to work many things out with your ex. This meant, zero court hearings (hopefully), a thin expense, and overall a clean divorce. Then, you had hired a paralegal to work on the legal papers and currently the two of you were waiting to see the judge to finalize the divorce, the approximate date set around the second week of November. 

Feeling suddenly insecure, and definitely not ready to tell Ransom, you pulled the large trench coat across your chest and secured it with the belt around the waist. The minute you looked at them, all the memories came flooding back. One specifically hitting you at this moment.

“Ransom, I’m gonna fall! You know I’m a klutz.”

Your husband just persisted and instead slipped on your ice skates, tying them up and resting his warm hands on your knees.

“Honey, I will be right beside you the whole time, and by the end of this, you’ll be a pro!”

His reassuring smile was all you needed, nodding, you placed your gloved hands in Ransom’s bare ones, trying to waddle your way to the rink entrance. First, Ransom skated onto the ice, turning and holding his hand out for you. The minute your feet made contact with the icy ground beneath, you fell straight to the ground, Ransom reached out to grab you, although he ended up going down with you. You looked at Ransom who wore an entertained smile on his face, laughing. Playfully, you slapped the man on the shoulder. 

“My failure isn’t funny!”

Ransom tried his best to cease his laughter, getting off the ice to help you up, although he was still chuckling the slightest bit. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!” 

Once on your feet, Ransom locked arms with you, trying his best to balance you both, while also coaching you. 

At some point through the night, the fake snow was fluttering in the air, along with tunes of piano and jazz. You had finally gotten the hang of things somewhat, yet still latched close to Ransom. The man on your side, leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“I give you my word that every year I’ll bring you to this exact rink, just to teach you how to skate, darling.”

If only that same Ransom was the one you were staring at right now. 

But overall, looking back, memories like those, with him, are the ones you miss.

Why did he have to change?

“(y/n)?”

A tap on your shoulder, made you pop up from your seat to be met with the stare of that same man. He slowly gave you a once-over, making you slightly worry that he’d notice the baby bump.

He didn’t. 

“Ransom.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Drysdale.” 

Clearly, Ransom was trying to give you an olive branch, but at the moment, you just weren’t accepting it.

“I asked you first, (y/l/n).”

“Work.”

Your voice was monotone and Ransom gave a slight hum of acknowledgment. 

“Nice. Well uh- it was nice seeing you.”

Nervously, Ransom waved you goodbye, heading back to Blair who was removing her ice skates. You took notice how she was struggling and Ransom wasn’t down on his knees helping her as he did you. It did your ego good to see that your husband hadn’t completely replaced you. There was a difference between you and Blair. Ransom actually loved you, like the “die for you” kind of love. While Blair, on the other hand, was honestly there to fill the whole in his heart. 

It did intrigue you though as to why Ransom wasn’t being an arrogant jerk to you, yet he was being humble? None of it added up, but before you could do any more mental acrobatics, Lorraine came over, asking you to come ice skate, to which you smiled and put on your skates. 

Tonight was about you, not him. 

Something you hadn’t said in a long time.

taglist (series and in general tags): @kiwihoee​ @buckybarnesthehotshot​ @memissbee​ @tricereads​ @tonystankschild​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ria132love​ @what-is-your-wish​ @maan24​ @bval-1​ @jemimah-b99​ @turtoix​ @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​

lemme know if you wanna join, be removed, or if i tagged the wrong person!