#gotta wonder if i did attempt to transition

[super-done-dead]

love seeing users who are friends interact on posts. would like to interact with a user whos a friend one day, on a post

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: Ummm so welcome backkk! This is 11.1 because there's a second part to this chapter (I know... my self control keeps getting worse lolol) But I hope you enjoy!

TW: grief

“I’m never fucking drinking again,” Raven moaned to herself as she stumbled out of the comforts of bed. She felt like hell, if hell had a truck run over its head a few dozen times. 

Raven generally considered herself an early riser but nothing could pull her out of bed that morning after what was, objectively, the dumbest night of her life. Part of her wished she had had one or two more drinks so she could have officially transitioned into the ‘blackout drunk’ phase. So that she would, at least, be spared the embarrassing memories. But no, every horrible moment of the night from dancing wildly at the bar to Michael saving her was etched into the crevices of her brain with shocking clarity. 

Now, it was after noon and Raven still found herself wanting to be curled under her blanket asleep so she could escape her embarrassment. 

A knock at the door pulled her out of her wallowing self pity. She did not make an attempt to move, expecting Tiffany to answer. However, when the voice of their landlord rang out and her knocking persisted, she quickly slid on her robe to open the door. She decided Mrs. Winters would have to get over the fact that she looked like death reincarnated. 

“Rough night, dear?” 

Raven grimaced for a moment, she did indeed look as terrible as she felt. 

“Something like that,” Raven offered a tight smile, her body slumping against the door. “W-what can I do for you, Mrs. Winters?” 

“Oh I’m just letting everyone know that we had a pipe burst on the floor above. We’ll have folks in and out and you might hear some noise and stuff. But if you see any leaking into your unit, give me a ring?” 

“Of course. Will do. Thanks, have a good one,” Raven tried her best to politely shoo the woman away. However, she lingered. 

“Oh I meant to tell you, that boyfriend of yours is just such a good egg. So kind and polite. Admittedly I haven’t met many famous people,” she laughed. “But you just don’t expect them to have such good manners, you know?” 

Raven stopped. “My boyfriend?? Sorry… When was he here?” 

“He stopped by this morning. Gave me a check for your rent for the rest of your lease. Oh and asked where your mailbox was, said he wanted to drop something in it.” 

Raven was worried her jaw might come completely unhinged as the woman spoke. 

He did what?? 

“Are you alright, dear??” 

“Y-Yea, yea. Just… a bit of a surprise. Thank you.” 

And with that, Raven immediately closed the door, not listening to the elderly woman’s reply. 

“This nigga… I hate him,” she muttered to herself as she slumped against her door. 

Every cell in her body knew that was not true. But she also knew that everything she had told him last night was still accurate. She was too tired to forgive him and not just him… anyone ever again. The world has used up all of her second chances and she did not have it in her heart to be disappointed by him again. The narrative in her brain was so set in stone, she did not think anything he could say or do would make her believe anything else. She could not even make herself go retrieve the note that was apparently waiting for her in her mailbox. 

“Such a coward,” she grumbled as she flopped back into bed. 

She stared at her phone for several minutes, her text thread with Michael open. She wondered what she could even say? Thank you?

She knew any conversations demanding she pay him back or he rescind the money would be moot. Even if she had the mental fortitude to argue with him right now, she would still lose. But she could not just accept it without trying to push back. 

She typed and erased and typed and erased before lamely landing on: 

Raven: You can’t pay my entire rent. I can’t accept that. 

Raven: I don’t want that.

Michael: Yea you can. Told you… gonna show up every day tryin’ to fix us. You just gotta let me.

Raven: Money isn’t gonna fix this, Michael. 

Michael: I know. But it can fix the tangible things I fucked up for you

Michael: So let me fix that for you. 

Raven paused, as a warm sensation filled her, a warmth she had not felt in over a month now. The warmth of being cared for. She had never had someone take care of her without wanting something in return, except Michael. Even when their relationship was built on transactions, he still took care of her without needing or asking for something from her. The book deal, her rent were just the tangible examples of how he had stepped up to right the wrongs he could and she could not deny that those actions meant something, softened something inside her. 

He was doing exactly what he promised he would do the night before. He was fixing what could be, he was showing with his actions that she meant something to him. And yet, that blockade that stopped that belief from taking root was still there, still prohibiting her from believing these actions were anything more than a skilled manipulation. 

He would draw her back in, he would not change, and when he got ready, he would hurt her again. That’s what everyone in her life did. 

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

She tossed her phone to the side and grabbed her pillow, screaming into it as her frustration got the better of her. The complex web of conflicting feelings with Michael B. Jordan trapped at its center only continued to grow. She wanted him to let her go, to stop caring and trying and going out of his way for her because that fit into the narrative nailed to the cross of her brain, it would confirm her beliefs and fears. 

But instead he continued to do the things that made her fall in love with him the first time, things that only reignited the dimmed but still existent flame that was her love for him. And she knew she would never get over him if she kept letting that happen, kept letting him in. 

So she did not even respond. Instead, she just closed the thread and tossed her phone to the side. 

“Let him go, Rae,” she demanded to herself. “You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t love you.” She repeated that a few times before it felt real again, before all that had started to soften was once again as solid as a block of ice. 

***

“You look like shit,” Alex moaned as she watched Michael’s makeup artist, Shanta, struggle to make him look less like a living zombie ahead of his Oprah interview. 

They were tucked away in a suite in Oprah's sprawling LA estate. It was difficult to make Michael feel poor but Oprah was certainly one of the few people in the world who could do so. 

“Thanks, appreciate that.” 

“You know I don’t believe in lying to you. Make sure you get those bags under his eyes,” she instructed. “Alright, this is it. Final stretch. Movie’s out and every review is stellar so far. Do this interview, it’ll air this week, Oscars on Sunday and then you can sleep. Though I bet it’s not the schedule keeping you up? Talked to her since the premiere?” 

Michael forced his body not to sag at the mention of Raven as to not disturb the hard work of the woman trying to make him look alive after days of no sleep.  

“She texted me about the rent thing the next morning. But it’s been radio silence ever since.” 

It had only been a few days since the fiasco after the premiere but Michael’s concern for Raven had not diminished one bit. He  could not let her go as she requested but he tried his hardest to respect her desire for space. His heart was stuck in the quicksand that was Raven and he had no desire to pull himself out. He wanted to be right there. He knew eventually he would have to accept defeat, accept that she had moved on. But he could not do it while she still questioned her own deservedness. She could hate him for the rest of his life, it would be her right. But his soul could not allow her to live thinking so lowly of herself. So if he had to pay 30 years of rent or call in favors to make her life easier and make her see that she deserved care and someone to sacrifice for her, he would do it. It was high time someone in her life put her above themselves. 

“Well, at least she talked to you. That’s something. You’re doing what she asked. Sis has lived a life, she needs time and space. Keep doing what you're doing. Except for the no sleep. For the love of God, by the Oscars, please get a good night’s rest. That’s your night.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alex…” 

She scoffed. “You’ve won the big four, Mike. It’s not just because I believe you deserve it… Statistically, Best Actor is yours. The Oscars is your night. Have a little faith in yourself.” 

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-” 

“Excuse me?” A young man poked his head in the door. “Apologies for interrupting. I’m a PA. Just wanted to let you know that we’re almost ready? I can take you out to the garden when you’re ready.” 

“Be right out. Thank you,” Alex called. 

Shanta did her last quick finishing touches before Alex gave him her customary once over. 

“Shanta, my girl, you’re a miracle worker per usual.” 

They both offered Shanta their thanks, Michael rolling his shoulders before heading out the door to walk out to the gardens. 

He had met and interviewed with Oprah once before so he was not particularly nervous. But despite having done millions of interviews, there was always a kernel of nerves right beforehand that he could just never shake. 

He was dressed in slacks and a light black sweater, thankful for a cooler day as he walked out into her expansive gardens where the Oprah Winfrey waited for him. The cameras were already rolling, capturing footage that may or may not make into the hour-long special. 

“The man of the hour!” she called, her arms stretched wide to wrap Michael in a hug. “Actually I think man of the year is more appropriate. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.” 

“Thank you, thank you. It’s so good to be here.”

“Have a seat,” she gestured at the very comfy chair across from hers. “And we can jump right in.” 

***

Raven’s head was propped against her fist as she stared at her computer. A sentence. That was the grand total of her hard work for that Wednesday afternoon. But it was something, she supposed. Weeks of hard work had amounted to maybe two or three pages of her book. She had been offering Angelina vague answers on her progress, ducking and dodging her to avoid admitting that there was no way in hell she could have a draft by March 15 like they talked about. 

“Rae? You busy?” 

She turned in her chair toward the door to find Tiffany’s head poking in. 

“Nope… I’ll never be busy again at this rate,” she grumbled. “What’s up?” 

“I just turned on the interview… if you want to watch?” 

Raven scratched her head, unsure if she could even watch him? See him happy and thriving without her? Despite everything happening between them though, she could not pretend there was not a part of her that still wanted to celebrate this moment in his career. Interviewing with Oprah the week he was poised to win his first Oscar? How could she ever forgive herself if she did not watch this? Even if it hurts? 

“I’ll… be there in a sec. Thanks, Tiff.” 

Raven let out a deep sigh before she grabbed the blanket off her bed and dragged herself to the living room. The interview had already started and he looked gorgeous. Tired, she could tell, in the way he constantly had to readjust his posture, in the bags under his eyes that the makeup artist could not quite fully cover. But even at his worst, he looked captivatingly good. 

Raven found herself studying him so intently that she did not even comprehend the words he and Oprah were sharing. She just watched him and his mannerisms, she focused on the glimmer in his eyes that sparked every so often. She missed looking into his eyes, missed how expressive they were.  

This moment only amplified how much she missed him, missed hearing the deep baritone in his voice and the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his passions. She missed his bright and uninhibited laughter, how his hands were always on her in some way. She just missed him. But she had pushed him away, had told him to let her go. And even if he had not fully let go of her yet, she felt too scared to open that door again, even if her soul ached for her to. Particularly when he continued to try to show up for her in small ways. 

And despite how angry she still wanted to be at him, she had never had anyone show up for her quite like this… try for her like he did. And everyday, her brain took up far more mental space than it should have, debating whether she should follow her foolish heart and forgive him or listen to her logical brain and cast him aside. Days passed and she still did not know the answer. 

“So I’ll admit,” Raven’s ears finally started to pick up the conversation between Oprah and Michael, “I watched Waves more times than appropriate. But Gayle and I saw it at Sundance and we both thought it was just the most heartbreaking and poignant look at loss and grief that we had ever seen. While still being engaging and funny and so relatable. The journey your character goes through is just… I mean I think grief is one of the few universal experiences that we all will have at some point. And you really brought that to life through this character and his struggles with addiction. And the fact that you filmed this while engaged in completely different projects with complex characters like Killmonger in Black Panther and Adonis in Creed 3… I’m curious what you pulled from to give that performance?” 

Michael shifted in his seat as he chuckled, Raven had missed how passionate he got about this project, even though he had been talking about it and doing press for it since they first started dating. She knew he had not truly expected the role to blow up in the ways it did but she could tell he was grateful for it, nonetheless. 

“Well first, thank you. Yea aside from Oscar Grant, Andre was the hardest character I’ve ever played and he stretched me as an actor in ways, you know, I didn’t really expect? And I learned so much from him in his sort of journey through grief. You know, when I read the first script, the line ‘grief is the final stage in love’s evolution,’ really stuck out to me. When you lose someone, grief, this enduring pain you feel, is that love shifting and changing because it has nowhere to go, there’s no outlet for it anymore. And so, Andre really reframed my own thoughts on grief and loss and how I process that and allowed me to pull from personal experiences with loss to pour into that character.” 

“Yea I will say, that line was one of my favorites. I sat with that long after the credits rolled.” 

“Yea same. I remember sitting a-and thinking about that one for a while after reading it. And I loved that even in the more comedic moments of this movie, we still had those lines that made you wanna stop and really sit with what the characters were going through.”  

“Definitely, I was dissecting this movie for weeks after. It’s just amazing. So I do want to shift gears to talk about this moment you're experiencing because of this movie. This really is the biggest moment of your career. You’re nominated for your first Oscar and a favorite to win, so far in 2023, you’ve won a SAG Award, Golden Globe, and BAFTA. And you, as of two days ago, just had your directorial debut in Creed 3. First question, how are you still awake?” Both of them shared a laugh. “But serious question, how has this moment felt? How does it feel to be having this moment at this stage of your career?” 

“Oh wow, when you list it like that, I don’t know how I’m awake either,” he chuckled. “But seriously, you know… it’s been a ride. I know you’ve felt this too but you know, you don’t often take a moment to just pause and soak it in. You finish one interview or award show and your mind automatically just jumps to the next one. And I think what I’ve been trying to force myself to do in the later weeks of this insane time is just to slow down and enjoy it. Not rush through it and really enjoy the fruits of… really years of hard work and sacrifice. But that also means sitting with… you know, the challenges of this time too, which isn’t as rewarding,” he admitted with a sad smile. “But I’m growing and learning alot so it’s worth it.” 

Oprah nodded. “You know I always appreciate when people don’t let the 24 hour news cycle and gossip sort of steal their thunder and moment from them. And I applaud you for sort of moving through the more gossipy side of the last few months with grace and maturity. But you haven’t really talked much publicly about those stories and the effect they have had on you. And you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want but I am curious on how you navigated that and really came out on the other side, from what I can see, stronger for it?”

Michael bowed his head and chuckled. “Um… you know a good friend of mine told me that she thought this was the most vulnerable and most genuine I had ever been publicly on this press tour and I think it’s because I’ve had to navigate some really personal stuff during this great but hectic public moment? And that’s new territory for me.” 

“And I think that friend is right. I don’t think we have seen or learned this much about you ever.” 

“Yea and I wish I could take some credit for it but… it was all one person: Raven Turner. And the way we met, now as the world knows, was extremely unconventional and I can admit that our relationship started as a complete lie. A lie I thought would help me be seen as this serious, mature man my team was worried I wasn’t. And I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was cold and guarded and not at all the best version of myself. And while I regret how we started and trying to fool the world into thinking I’m something I’m not, there isn’t a bone in my body that regrets falling in love with her.” 

He leaned forward a bit as he spoke. “Because all those walls and barriers we build around ourselves to survive in this world of Hollywood? To endure the criticisms and insanity we deal with? She's the first woman to see me. Not the actor and the money and the fame but just me. And in that, she saved me… without trying or intending to. She just loved me and loving her, choosing her is the single greatest decision I ever made. And I hate how this moment has fallen on her, how my terrible decisions led to these pretty disgusting misogynistic attacks on her. And I think my biggest regret is putting someone as pure as her in the line of fire like that and not doing enough to protect her. And you know, I have to live with that, which is tough.” 

“You know I’ve interviewed thousands of people in my career and while I believe you have to change for yourself and on your own, I also have found that the ones who love us, really love us, are often the most powerful catalysts for change in our lives. I’ve certainly seen and experienced that in my own life and it’s important to spotlight those who were that catalyst.” 

“Oh 100%. Especially when, I think this version of me was always there? I was just too hurt to trust anyone with it, so no one saw it. I buried me under this facade I thought was better? But I fell in love with a woman who taught me that you can’t be guarded, you can’t shut down just because you’re hurt. Life is about getting up every day, being authentically you, and reaching out and loving and risking your heart every time. And sometimes you’ll get swatted away and sometimes you’ll get an embrace. But you just deny yourself love when you don’t show up at all. So I’ve been trying to live by that more lately. Because she showed me what real strength and courage looks like. And I want to have that, I want to lead with that.” 

“Wow… you know people are going to watch this and I think, applaud that vulnerability. It’s refreshing to me because I don’t think our world incentivizes or encourages people to admit when they aren’t being their best selves. So I think for you to do that, at a moment when you’re at the top of your game, is commendable.” 

“She deserves to know the positive effect she’s had on my life. To be celebrated for how she supported me. And you know it’s not just me? When we first started dating, I remember her one stipulation was that we couldn’t go out on Wednesday evenings because she hosted a book club for kids at the library she worked at. And that was the most important thing to her, being there for them. The day of our first date, she spent an hour delivering books and SAT prep books to those same kids she worked just because. There’s just a selflessness to her that is truly admirable. And I think while people are attacking her and calling her these vile names because she made a certain choice during a hard time, they should know who she really is. A woman that would drop everything to help you even when you don’t really deserve it. A woman who I’ve seen give others all she had because they needed it more even when she did not have a backup plan for herself. I could honestly talk about her for the rest of this interview because she deserves celebration far more than I ever could. Genuinely good people don’t always get the shine they deserve, they don’t always get the love and care they deserve because we can often take them for granted. But no one deserves to be celebrated more than her, to be celebrated loudly more than she does.” 

“I love that… she seems like quite the woman.” 

“She is… and I hope she knows that.” 

“So tell me about…” 

The words faded away as his words tumbled through Raven’s head. They clashed jarringly against every belief she had internalized about herself, like metal against metal. But she found herself wanting to believe him. Believe the words a section of the world just heard. She wanted to believe that what he saw in her, even over the course of six months, was who she truly was. Not this broken, damaged scapegoat life had fashioned her into. 

There has to be more than this, right? 

Tiffany nudged her with a box of tissues in her hand. Raven had not even realized she was crying but she accepted them gratefully. 

“Don’t know how I still have tears over this man left,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes. 

“I don’t think those tears are because of him, sis.” 

Raven sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “You m-might be onto something. I can’t watch anymore. Night, Tiffany.” 

However, before she reached her bedroom, she heard Tiffany call her name. 

“I know what he did… sucks. And hurts. But that’s a man who loves you, Rae. More than anything. After that? The only person in the world who still won’t believe it is you.”

She turned around to face her, the back of her hand wiping away a few more stray tears. “You know he said the same thing?” 

“Well, I generally don’t think actors are that smart,” Tiffany admitted with a laugh. “But he’s right about that. You deserve to believe good things about yourself, we all do.”

“Nothing good has ever lasted… I always ruin it somehow. I tried to believe I deserved him and life proved that I didn’t,” she answered, her voice small. “D-Don’t have it in me to try again.” 

“Raven… I know we aren’t best friends or anything. But how many times have I watched you forgiven your dad and sister? Let them back in, try to make things right with them? Try to build the family you want?” 

“Too many…” 

“Right… So why does Michael only get one shot when you found the strength to give them 100? When he’s the one actually showing up for you? He’s the one who actually is trying to earn another chance?”  

“It’s not that simple and you know it.” 

“I know that the only person denying you happiness right now… is you. You push away the good people and things in your life because you feel like you don’t deserve it but no one would be here if you didn’t. Michael, the kids in your book club… me. I don’t keep signing leases with you because you’re a terrible person who ruins everything, no one has a gun to our heads, Rae. We’re here because you do deserve it.” 

“Tiff…” 

“Nope, shut up. This pity party is getting old and tired. It doesn’t matter what I think of you… or what Michael thinks or anyone out there.” She gestured toward the window. “All that matters is the narrative you’ve created and until you decide to believe something else, all you’re going to do is push people away and fuck up and self sabotage because it’s all you think you deserve. You gotta wake up and do some fucking work, girl. Cause until you figure out how to erase this narrative from your brain, you’ll never be happy. And you’ll never fall in love with anyone except for someone who treats you like crap. You’ll never build your own family. You’ll never finish your book or have another fulfilling career. You’ll just be stuck in this broken version of yourself alone… forever. And I’ve seen a few different versions of you over the last two years but this is by far the most pitiful.”

Raven had never heard Tiffany be so blunt. The words were biting but she could not deny that some of them rang true in her ears. And that was always the hardest information to hear. 

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.” 

“The soft gentle love wasn’t resonating clearly so had to go with a different tactic…. Just think about it. And once you fix all this shit and move to a mansion in the hills, don’t forget about me.” She winked at her, causing Raven’s jaw to drop slightly. 

“How do you even know that’s gonna happen?” 

She shrugged and grabbed the remote to press play, Raven not even noticing that she paused it.

“Just got a good feeling about the two of you. Now go so I can lust after him in peace while he's still single. Kidding! Kinda..."

Raven let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "I know you're not kidding. Night, Tiff.” 

She slid into her bed, her only refuge of late, and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised she was not tired of looking at it by now. Michael and Tiffany’s words wrestled with her own thoughts for hours

What was her problem, really? It was not that what Michael did was unforgivable because it wasn’t. Some distant part of her, too quiet to break through the noise of her anger, always wondered if there was more to the story, believed that he had to have had some reason. But she was too angry to allow him to explain. It just became vicious ammunition that no one could ever love her or care about her… that she was the problem. 

Well, that’s true… no one’s ever loved you. And everyone who does leaves. 

She supposed her mother must have loved her, but she would never know. She would never feel it. And her grandmother’s love was so distant, so long ago, that it no longer felt tangible, was no longer a tether to anchor her self worth to something positive.

Instead, the only thing that tethered her sense of self worth to anything was her family’s disdain. Disdain that made her question what Michael could’ve seen in her, how he could ever love someone like her? That disdain which made it far easier to believe that what he did was proof that he did not love her than that he possibly did do it to protect her in some weird way. No other thought could live long enough in her brain to take hold. 

And she did not know if doing what Tiffany suggested would fix that. There was not enough time in the world for her muster the courage to interrogate and confront the source of these feelings. She had hoped she would never have to see her family again. Some days, never felt like too soon.

But she knew she could not avoid it. They were the root cause, the narrative in her head was fueled and sustained by them. And screaming at them across the Thanksgiving table and never speaking to them again was not the closure she needed. She thought she had dropped the weight that was her family when she cut them off. But she was still dragging all the luggage they gave her around and it was time to give it back. 

She knew her family did not want to see her either, knew it would be difficult to get them to even speak to her after everything. But she knew she had to try… because she knew there had to be more to life than this. That she had not been born to only suffer through life instead of live it. So she needed to confront her demons for herself, even if her relationship with them did not change one bit.  

She grabbed her computer and her wallet. It was time to go home.

***

Raven’s eyes remained trained on her dad’s house across the street as she sat in her rental car. She was almost shocked that none of her family’s nosy neighbors had not called the police yet as she sat there for nearly an hour, summoning the courage to actually go inside. 

She had felt so sure this was what she needed when she bought her plane ticket. And that confidence did not waver when she stepped onto the plane or during the long journey from LAX to Charlotte, NC. However, once she was in her rental car, she found herself waffling, aimlessly driving around for hours. Her brain seemed unable to direct her to the place she knew she needed to go. Home. 

She just could not make herself do it… not yet anyway. So she did not. Instead, she finally went to her hotel to try to get some rest and her night’s rest turned into the entire Friday holed up in her hotel. She had not booked a return ticket, prayerful and hopeful that there would be a reason to stick around for a few days. But that also meant she did not have the incentive of time to make her move faster. 

But she could not even make herself do this. Because she did not know how to be brave like this. Her life had been nothing but running from pain and confrontation. This was so contrary to that. She did not know how to do any of this. She tossed and turned all night, unable to get any sleep particularly when there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, wanted to seek courage and strength from. Because when she felt scared, when she did not feel strong, he was the only person she wanted to reach for. But she was not sure he would even answer. She had pushed him away, told him she needed space. 

But she had not felt like she could do this alone. So last night, she called him. 

“Rae! Everything ok?” he asked immediately, his question met with silence. 

Raven did not know what to say and regret filled her like ice water in her veins. But she knew it was too late to hang up, she had to see it through. She paid for that moment of weakness when she hit the call button as her throat closed at the sound of her voice. She found it impossible to speak, even if she knew what words to say.  

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, Rae. Got all night for you.” 

And she knew he was not just talking about waiting for her to speak. 

“Why?” she whispered, the simple word coming out in a strangled sound as she tried to push past the tightness in her throat. 

“Why what?” 

“Why even answer after everything I said to you? W-why do you keep trying?” 

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And you’re worth it. I’ll keep reaching out, baby girl. Even when you swat me away.” 

“You might be the only person who thinks that,” she whispered back as a tear fell. 

“I don’t think that’s true. But even if it was, knowing one person is in your corner is all you need sometimes.”

She laughed lightly. “That press tour got you only speaking in motivational boxing terms or something?” 

His deep laughter filled her ears and filled her soul with such joy that she had forgotten. She had forgotten what these moments felt like, the two of them on the phone or curled up together in bed, just talking. She missed it… she missed him. But she could not say it, could not bring herself to pull her body out of the water to make that long trek back up the cliff to where he waited for her. Everything in her brain screamed at her that she couldn’t do it, that she did not have it in her. And she hated herself for it. Hated how she clung to the ice barriers around her heart, even though they were utterly fractured and ready to fall. She just was not ready yet. 

She let out a shuddering breath as she hastily wiped away her falling tears. “I… don’t know why I called. I s-shouldn’t have called.”

“Call me anytime, Rae. I’ll always answer. I’ll always show up for you. I hope you know that… at least.” 

“Y-Yea… I think I do… or at least, it’s getting harder to deny it,” she revealed. “Your interview with Oprah… it was really good,” she offered lamely. 

“You watched??” she could hear the surprise in his voice. 

“Yea… I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But I caught most of it. Did you mean it? Everything you said?” 

“Every single word.” There was no arguing with the definitive tone in his voice. “I get that you don’t trust me anymore. I lied and kept secrets. But one thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”  

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment. That was one thing he had always been consistent about, her ears had just been perpetually shut to it. 

“I… um… I gotta go. Early day tomorrow,” she lied as she sniffled. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Bye, Michael.” 

She was not sure what she had expected to get from that call and, at first, it felt as if she only got a firm kick in the heart for it. But for the first time since she landed, Raven had enough strength to finally drive to her family’s house. She had rolled her eyes at his boxing motivational quotes but hearing someone say they were in her corner, that had given her courage. To just feel like someone was behind her, even if she was alone, that meant something to her. 

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, forcing her legs to carry her to the front door. 

Her rounds of knocks went unanswered, Raven getting slightly frustrated but determined not to leave the porch. If she turned around and walked away, she’d never come back. 

After an extremely brief internal debate, she decided to simply let herself in, deciding that since she contributed to the mortgage, she had a right to come in as she pleased. And her father still, foolishly, kept a spare key underneath the welcome mat.

Though she had not been to her family’s home in two years or so, it still looked the same. Her father’s favorite work boots were thrown haphazardly at the door, several pairs of her sister’s shoes lined up next to them. She was an utter mess but she was, at least, somewhat neat. And it still felt… cold. And it had nothing to do with the cold winter east coast weather. The house had always felt like that, void of warmth and love that made a home a home. 

“Kiara?” she called out. “Dad?” However, she was met with utter silence. 

Part of her supposed she was thankful they were not home and that they had not just ignored her or something. She stood in the living room, staring around the room at the pictures that lined the walls and shelves. So many of her mom, her dad, and Kiara but there were none of her. That was not a surprise, it had always been that way. But that did not make it sting any less. All they had ever wanted was to erase her from their lives and if a stranger walked into this house, it would be as if she never existed.

She started up the stairs, her eyes refusing to linger long on any of the photos there. They were all lies anyway, a picture perfect family that did not exist because she had been born. She decided to ascend to the attic once she made it upstairs. Because that was where all her grandmother’s and some of her own things now lived. She had never really gone through her grandmother’s things after she passed, no one aside from her dad to pack them up. But she knew there was so much of their lives, so many memories she had forgotten of the one person who loved her, forgotten in those boxes that she now desperately needed to remember. 

She ignored how narrow the opening to the attic was, realizing that it had been easier to maneuver up here when she was a young teenager. Everything was still neatly packed away as if her grandmother would be back one day to pick it up. 

She started to open each box, pulling out and examining her grandmother’s things, so many beautiful things forgotten in this attic no one went into. For the first time in nearly two decades, she felt close to the only maternal figure she had ever had, felt like her grandmother’s hand was on her shoulder as she reminisced on their short but well-lived time together. 

She found the old costume jewelry her grandmother used to let her play with, laughing to herself as she thought back to dressing up in front of her vanity mirror pretending to be a model or whatever silly idea the pair had thought up. She almost cried as she found a very crumpled piece of paper with the last story she gave her grandmother to read before she died, a random short story that she had written for class. She had not realized, as she found a folder, just how many of her stories her grandmother had kept. 

A gold glint caught her attention, Raven reaching into a giant box to find a shoe box. Raven had seen that box 100 times but her grandmother had never let her touch it, claiming that it held priceless family heirlooms that she did not want Raven or Kiara to mess up. Raven rolled her eyes that something her grandmother had valued so much had been discarded and forgotten haphazardly at the bottom of this box. 

Finally giving into her childhood curiosity, she opened it. It was still filled with things, part of her thankful that Kiara had never found it. The jewelry and pieces in it were gorgeous and indeed priceless. She took her time as she examined each one, wondering if they had belonged to her mother or her grandmother or some other relative she never met. However, it was what existed underneath the jewelry that caught her eye: piles of tied up envelopes, one with her name on it and one with Kiara’s. 

The handwriting was not her grandmother’s, which made Raven even more curious. 

She pulled out the stack with her name on it and undid the thin ribbon that tied them together. There were ten letters there in total, each one with a different note scribbled on the envelope. 

To Raven on your 18th birthday 

To Raven on high school graduation 

To Raven after your first love 

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation 

To Raven on your wedding day 

She only had to flip through a few of them to realize who they were from. Her mom. 

“You’re killing me,” she muttered to the sky, unsure if she was speaking to God, her grandmother, her mother or all three. 

Her hands trembled slightly as she ripped open the one on top, addressed to her on her 18th birthday. These were some of the only words her mother would get to say to her, she did not care how long ago she should have read it. She would savor each one. 

To my sweet darling girl, 

If you are reading this, it means that I am not physically there with you on your birthday. It means that I’ve missed 18 birthdays and too many milestones to write a letter for and for that, I am sorry. You might be wondering why there is not a letter for all those milestones and birthdays that have taken place but this felt like the best place to start and the appropriate age for reading the musings of a dying woman. If there’s even such a thing.

We learned your gender today. Another sweet girl. If the doctor somehow got it wrong, these letters will be incredibly awkward. But I know they are right. Because you, my darling girl, are the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I dreamed of you almost a year ago, this beautiful girl with half my face but all of my spirit and personality. And every night since then, I prayed, begged God to make that dream a reality… no matter the cost. And he did. 

I know my body is not strong enough to be your mother, to be around to be the mother someone as brilliant as you will deserve. But I hope you know that deciding to have you and keep you, regardless of the risks, is the single greatest decision I ever made. You were not an accident or a misfortune given to me. You are my dreams. And if my last moments on this earth are spent looking at you, it will have been worth it. 

I waited until 18 to start these letters because I worried a child could never understand the choice I made. And you may still not. And if you resent me for leaving you before you could know me, I understand that too. But I hope that through these letters, you will get to know me. And you will feel some semblance of the immense love I have for you. 

I don’t have much advice because you’ve likely heard it all at this point. But the two most important things I can tell you, that I wish someone had told 18 year old me, is to know that failure is part of the journey. Your grandmother used to always tell me to keep reaching out your hand even if it doesn’t work. I didn’t really understand it soon enough but I hope you do. Life is about risks and if you don’t reach out your hand out of fear, you’ll protect yourself from pain but you will also miss out on the gifts God is trying to hand you. As a daughter, I hated to admit it, but mama was right about that… and so many other things. 

And finally, more importantly than anything else I could offer you in these letters, please remember every day that you are so, so loved. 

Know that regardless of what happened to me, I loved you with every fiber of my being until my last breath. Know that you were a gift from God. And every day you venture out into this world, know that you are worthy of so much because you were so loved from the moment you were dreamed up. Do not let anyone or whatever will happen to you in what I pray is a long, rich, happy life diminish that light, diminish your worth. I know how special you are and I don’t even know your name yet. And while I hope that your father and grandmother will affirm you daily, you don’t need other people to tell you that you are special. You have to know it for yourself. That’s the most important advice I can give you. Know who you are and your worth and take up as much space in this world as you want. And as long as you never forget how special you are… how deserving you are, you’ll move through this world shining bright. And the world will be forced to know it too and move to give you what you deserve. It’s not much and a bit cliche perhaps but I’ve been torn down enough to know that sometimes we all need the reminder. But those are stories for another letter. 

By the time I write my next letter, I promise I will have picked out a name for you. I read a book the other day where the main character was named Raven… I had not thought of it before but I like it. 

Happy Birthday. 

Love, 

Mom

The river of tears streaming down Raven’s face splashed against the slanted handwriting on the page, Raven quickly whisking them away so the words would remain legible. Raven did not even know how long she sat there staring at the words on the page, her heart bursting with the knowledge that her mother’s hand had touched this very paper, that she had poured her heart and soul into every word etched into it. 

It was like proof she had been real and not this entity Raven had conjured up in her head. Raven could not stop herself from ripping open all the ones that she should have gotten along the way. The one for her first love and the separate one on heartbreak were four pages each, and Raven did not pay attention to the clock as she absorbed each and every word. 

Everything she had learned about her mother had been through her grandmother and she had always wondered if her grandmother told her things just to make her feel better. But she realized that her grandmother had been telling the truth, she and her mother were so much alike. She found herself nodding and laughing along to her mother’s stories and wisdom embedded in all those pages. She was a prolific storyteller too and an amazing writer, another trait Raven realized she must have inherited from her.

For the first time in 30 years, Raven did not feel weighed down by this unbearable guilt. She felt lighter than she had ever been in her entire life. Perhaps this was what God wanted her to find here, not a confrontation with her family, but these words. This tangible proof that her mother had chosen her, wanted her… loved her and that she had not ruined anything at all. 

Her mother would not have wanted her to carry such guilt around for so long because there was nothing to be guilty about. 

The letters were scattered across the attic floor when she heard the faint sound of their garage opening. She quickly folded up all of her letters and stuffed them back into the box, tucking it under her arm as she climbed out of the attic. She did not make much noise as she closed up the attic, just as she heard her father and sister close the garage door and enter the kitchen. 

Their voices drifted up to her ears as she started to climb down the stairs, deciding that she might as well get the pure unpleasantness of this moment over with. 

“Wait… you hear that? Is someone in the house??” she heard her sister ask, knowing that they both could hear her footsteps against the old floorboards. 

“Don’t get your gun,” she called out as she started down the stairs. “It’s just me.” 

She was greeted with less-than-welcoming expressions from her family, such disdain that it made her want to scurry away. But she did not. She had done enough of that in her life.

“Adding breaking and entering to your criminal activity, now?” 

Raven scoffed as she placed the box on the kitchen counter that stood between her and her family. 

“Don’t think you can break into a house you helped pay for?” she answered coolly. “And I’m not the one with a mug shot here if I remember correctly.” 

“No you’re just the one who sold her cheap ass for a quick buck.” 

Raven shook her head, opening and closing her mouth for a few moments as she tried to find the words. 

“Yea I did… And I’m not proud of it,” Raven admitted. “But I won’t let you or anyone shame me for doing what I needed to do to survive. What helped the two of you survive too.” Raven scratched her head, realizing that trying to get closure from her family was unnecessary. Her mother’s words had given her all the closure she had ever needed. That’s what she had come home for. 

“You know, I got a plane ready to rip you both a new one for 30 years of abuse and torture. To try to force you to admit that I’m not the villain you made me to be. But… I don’t need that anymore. Because the cross of guilt and shame you two forced onto my back for all these years isn’t one I should have to carry. But I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you two around. And even without you two in my life, I still drag that cross around because I thought I deserved it. But I realized today, way too late, that I don’t need a damn thing from either of you to put it down.” 

“So you came here to what? To chastise us and steal?” her father asked, gesturing toward the box on the counter. 

“You can’t steal things that belong to you. These are letters mom wrote to me,” she lifted the open letters out before sliding the unopened pile to her sister. “And to you.” 

“Your mother wrote these?” he asked, his jaw tensing as he looked down at the stack. 

“Yeah, she did. You’ll enjoy yours… she was a really good storyteller,” she glanced at Kiara. “These letters just told me something I should’ve realized long before Thanksgiving. That cross? That guilt? It isn’t mine. And I am done wasting my life trying to rectify the mistake of being born. Because it wasn’t a mistake. She chose me… prayed for a second daughter knowing the cost and she decided it was worth it. And hearing her say that? That’s all I need to know that I deserve so much more than this… so much more than you.” She took a deep breath. “Being a grieving husband isn’t an excuse to be a terrible father and I’ll just be grateful I found some way to survive you and this. And jealousy doesn’t give you the right to be a shitty sister.” 

“What the fuck do I have to be jealous of??” 

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff. 

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.” 

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at. 

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early. 

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be. 

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world. 

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on. 

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.” 

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.” 

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?” 

“Yes. Is it too late?” 

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone. 

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.” 

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."  

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?” 

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

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A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Meddling Mar Monday

About time we checked in on the Demolition Brothers! The chapter index can be found HERE

Alma's kitchen was full of spices and vegetables that Jak had never seen before -- or maybe he had, but they'd been pickled and preserved beyond recognition in Haven. These were fresh, filling the room with vibrant reds and yellows and greens, and Jak couldn't help wondering what they tasted like raw. He gave his hands a perfunctory rinse at the sink and stood awkwardly beside a long strand of hanging peppers, waiting to be given some kind of direction. Daxter seemed far more comfortable, cracking his knuckles and opening cabinets without so much as a by-your-leave.

"Alrighty, where's your measuring cups?" he asked.

Alma snorted. "Measuring cups? I use the scale! Go get my pot of salt off the table -- black lid -- and don't you dare drop it, Pequeño! That stuff is expensive!"

She glanced down at Mar. "You gonna wash your hands or what?" she asked.

Mar unwrapped his arms from around the caprid fawn's neck and signed, "Or what."

Behind Alma, Jak groaned. Was this what it was like to be Torn? In sharp gestures he warned Mar, "Don't push her buttons, we need this to work out. Do you want to go back to the tower?"

"No!"

"Then be nice! Treat her like she's the Bird Lady or something!"

Mar pouted and wrapped his arms around Cabbie again. Jak noted the disapproval on Alma's face and grimaced at Daxter. They weren't off to a great start. Daxter grimaced back, but held up a hand as if to calm Jak.

Jak might not have remembered a lot of what he'd been like at Mar's age, but Daxter did. And Daxter could hazard a guess as to the root of Mar’s contrariness.

"Sorry about Junior," he piped up in a lighthearted tone, "He has trouble transitioning between activities, especially in a new environment. In my experience, you gotta set a clear expectation and timeline, and then stick to it."

Jak blinked. "Wait, really?"

His best friend gave him a wry look. "You were exactly the same, pal. I have experience."

Alma appeared to be considering this for a moment. At first, Jak thought she would agree to give Mar a few more minutes to switch between tasks. But then she pointed a skinny finger towards a low door at the back of the kitchen.

"If you aren't gonna help make bread, you can take Cabbie and go help with the caprids," she said, shrugging the shoulder that sat lower.

"Don't have to wash your hands for that."

Mar frowned thoughtfully and considered his options. If he helped outside, that would mean he was still playing with Cabbie, right? And then he'd get to see more caprids! So far they weren't much like crocadogs, but they weren't boring like yakkows, either. Mar liked animals, especially the ones that could play with him.

He nodded and pushed himself to his feet. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he asked, "Can I feed them?"

"They've already been fed today," Alma answered, "Don't believe them if they act hungry. They'd eat the house if they could. Just fill the water trough alright?"

Mar let himself out the back, and almost immediately came back in.

"Where's the water?"

As Alma had her back to him, Jak quickly relayed Mar's question. The woman didn't look up from tossing flour and water into a bowl.

"See those big meshes out there? They harvest fog. The barrels underneath catch the water. Use the tap to fill up a bucket -- turn it off before you walk away!"

"Okay!" Mar hopped back down off the step and into some kind of courtyard between buildings. Metallic jangling and caprids bleating nearly drowned him out.

Alma turned her head. "Close the door!" she called, "Don't let the little criminals in here!"

Upon hearing Jak's snicker, she scooted the bowl towards him. "Here, young-arms. Mix that until it's evenly goopy."

Well, that couldn't be too hard, right?

Wrong.

Jak's first attempt sent watery flour splattering across the counter, Daxter, and anything in range. His dismay must have shown on his face, because Alma didn't berate him. She grumbled about wasted dough, but it was under her breath.

"Not so hard, boy! You aren't trying to kill it!"

Being told not to kill something was a bit of a reversal from what people normally demanded of him. It was all destroy, destroy, destroy. And while Jak could admit -- and would admit freely -- to taking pleasure in the destruction of things, like mining platforms and KG bases, he'd always hated being ordered to destroy people. It was much too close to what Praxis had wanted to make him into. A soldier; an executioner. Made to destroy and good for nothing else.

I can do more than destroy, he insisted to himself, I'm gonna have to if I want to survive out here. How am I supposed to take care of Dax and Mar if I can't even make dough without ruining it?

But he couldn't ask for help. He'd look like some useless city-slicker who didn't know how to work! Gingerly, he pushed his fist into the gooey mixture again. It wasn't a very nice texture, all sloppy and wet. Gritting his teeth, he mixed and pushed until it clung to his hand from every side of the bowl. The texture was awful. He closed his eyes and told himself to ignore his skin screaming at him.

"Is...is this right?" He lowered the bowl to show Alma.

The landlady eyed it critically, rubbing her chin. "Good enough. Now we add the yeast."

Daxter hopped up onto the counter and nudged Jak sympathetically. "I got this. You get that gunk off your hands before you blow a gasket."

Gratefully, Jak ceded the bowl and did his best to scrape his hands off on the rim. The landlady probably wouldn't want him washing this stuff down the drain, he guessed. He suppressed a shudder and rubbed his fingers together under the pump water until the stickiness dissipated. Felt too much like metalhead guts.

"City boy," Alma scoffed.

Jak bristled. "Stick your hands in metalhead entrails a couple hundred times," he shot back, "and maybe you won't like the texture anymore either."

Alma lowered her brows at him. "Don't take that tone with me, chico," she warned.

"Then don't make assumptions about me," Jak retorted through gritted teeth.

Don't snap. Lower your voice. Hands where she can see them. If you're dangerous where people can see you, you'll get yourself and the guys kicked out.

For a moment they held each other's gaze, neither willing to back down in a silent standoff. Then Alma thumped her cane against the floor and scoffed.

"You've got some fire to you, boy. Good. I don't want any mealy-mouthed suckups in my house -- but you still better watch your mouth, eh?"

Jak grumbled an assent and flicked the last of the flour mixture off his fingers with a shudder. Dark eco hypersensitivity was a special kind of hell. It had been mercifully absent during their time in the convalescence ward, but the heat of the day seemed to be drawing it out again.

"I'm gonna check on M-" Jak caught himself at the last second- "My brother."

"Don't let any caprids in the house," Alma warned dismissively.

"And get your things up to your room! We don't have bellhop service here."

Daxter checked the yeast and tossed some flour onto the counter. "Uh...about that. Yeah, what you see is what you get. We don't have any stuff."

Alma half turned and looked around her kitchen skeptically, as if expecting to see a hidden pile of luggage. When no such baggage appeared, she shook her head -- whether it was in judgement or sympathy wasn't clear.

"When they come get you this evening to show you how to get groceries," she said to Jak, "Tell 'em Alma said you need a clothing allowance."

The room the boys would be renting wasn't particularly large. There was a sink, a tiny cook top, and a low table in one corner, a bathroom in another, and everything else was open space. Some hooks on the rafters suggested that previous tenants had divided the room with curtains for a while. That was probably the most privacy Jak was going to get in a place like this.

At least I don't have any extra clothes to worry about changing into. That definitely lowers the chances of Mar seeing my scars.

Pushed against the far wall, opposite the bathroom, was a low, wide, bed. There were no blankets on it, and the pallet was old and worn. But it was better than most places Jak had slept in Haven, and he wasn't going to complain as long as there was room for all three of them. He sank down onto a corner of the pallet and unlaced his boots with a sigh. As much as everyone kept repeating that he wouldn't be put to work, Jak knew it would only last until they saw what he was capable of. Which would mean he'd be able to keep them fed, but in this kind of heat it would probably be exhausting. Better to take it easy while he could.

[fountainpenguin]

"Now, shoulders back- and stand up tall! And do not walk, but try to float!" (x)

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New 130 Reasons Why I’m Fairy Trash update today!

Fairly OddParents || One-Shot - “I Just Live Here”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Find more Lavender Train story arc HERE

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It's spring break for the Spellementary School kids. Poof, Finley, and Foop visit their extended family for the holidays- Poof with Granddad Dusty ("Big Daddy") and all his Fairywinkle cousins, Foop with his grandmother, and Finley with...

... Well. I guess H.P.'s just putting him to work. That's Pixie life for ya.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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By the way... FFN keeps saying that it won't send me more emails because apparently my email is rejecting them and no matter how many fixes I attempt, it's not sticking.

If you would like to leave a review, I'd prefer you leave it on AO3 because I'm confident I'll get an email that I can respond to, but you can still leave reviews on the FFN story if you wish!

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125. I Just Live Here (Immediate sequel to "Scarred")

Wednesday May 6th, 2005

Year of Sky, Spring of the Silent Owls

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Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma

Chingaling-chime!

"Now approaching Starglint Town. Please prepare to disembark in the next five minutes. If you've enjoyed your local public transportation system, consider supporting returning candidate Mortikor Fern as Pink Robe in the next Fairy Council election. Thank you for flying with Rainbow Transit Services and have a magical day."

I've heard that message (with different drop-off points subbed in) so many times in the past four hours, I kind of wanna barf. And even if I did, I could probably recite it several times myself on the way to the nearest clinic. I'll be glad when this bus ride is over. I feel like it's been four weeks since I left the Spellementary dorms.

There's a good reason as to why it's taken so long. Starglint Town lies at the edge of the Fairy World Outskirts, basically kissing the border with Anti-Fairy World… separated from it only by Emper: a scraggly little town on the floating island that's just come into view up ahead. Emper isn't much to look like. There's a park with cool statues from the old days, plus a cute grocery store where they hand out free sugar cookies to kids. My dad takes me to get one every time we visit Mama Cosma, but there isn't much else that's interesting. Starglint Town is where all the action is, from libraries to community centers to toy stores and pizza shops.

Granddad Dusty's property is smack between the two. Everyone in Emper calls him Big Daddy and they treat him with so much respect, I always wonder if my family are under some kind of secret government protection just because our counterparts rule Anti-Fairy World. I mean, it doesn't sound too far-fetched when you think about it for a while. I know a lot of people dislike the Anti-Fairywinkles, but I hope most of them realize that if we knocked them out of power, it wouldn't be the end of that kind of leadership in Anti-Fairy World. Someone else would just rise up to take over, and they could be even worse than Anti-Cosmo is now.

I don't even think Anti-Cosmo is that bad, but if I say that, people will freak out at me and shower me in questions about whether or not I remember getting kidnapped as a newborn. I don't, but… that doesn't mean I want to hear about it over and over again. I wish more people would respect my boundaries and ask me first before they talk about it… Not just dump the whole kidnapping thing on my head any time I want to have a polite and reasonable conversation about Fairy World history, geography, or politics.

Maybe instead of screaming about how H.P. and Anti-Cosmo are evil fiends who went off the deep end and can never be forgiven because they kidnapped a baby and tried to springboard off my magic to rule the universe, we could, I dunno… ask ourselves why the current state of the universe isn't working for them? There's gotta be some reason they feel like they're doing the right thing for their people by pushing back against the Fairies. They're still people, right?

Or if you want to look at this from another angle, why do Anti-Fairy World and Pixie World even have corrupt leaders in the first place? Do people support them? If they don't, then why don't their people support Fairy World? Are we the crueler of two evils in their eyes? We should change that. We should figure out how to fix it.

And if Pixies and Anti-Fairies do support their leaders, maybe we should ask ourselves why. Are they being brainwashed by hateful propaganda? My school's always teaching us that Anti-Fairies are behind all that's bad in the universe, so we're using propaganda too.

Do Pixies and Anti-Fairies support their leaders because they care about their people, use their taxes wisely, and keep everyone fed, sheltered, and clothed? That sounds okay to me. Next topic: Why aren't Anti-Cosmo and Foop's dad in jail for all those other times they tried to take over Fairy World? If the answer to that is "their worlds will fall apart if they don't stay in power, plunging the universe into chaos," then maybe they're actually great leaders and aren't so bad after all.

Just a thought. Politics are probably more complicated than I think they are, but that's just me.

I've never worried about repeat kidnapping when I'm at home with my parents, apart from maybe one time that Timmy's Dad snuck into his room and stole our fishbowl for Mr. Crocker. At school, I feel safe in the hands of the faculty and their magical wards. Yeah, Mr. Crocker might be my teacher now and he really is as wacky and distractible as Timmy always said he was, but he's not allowed within twenty feet of our dorms.

My classmates don't always respect our cohort's RA, but I'm pretty sure Gary would mess Crocker the freak up if he ever tried peering through our windows. Gary and Crocker are both witches, but Gary's 1.56% genie with minor reality-bending powers to prove it, while Crocker's about thirteen generations down from his magical ancestor with nothing to show for it but the ability to float. I know who I'd bet money on in that fight.

Foop and I tried sneaking out one time when it was late and we wanted fruit snacks from the vending machine, and that's how I found out that Gary can just snap his fingers and summon clones of himself. I don't leave my room after curfew anymore.

[Cnt'd on FFN / AO3 - Links at top]

[rexaleph]

Ohhhhh my god. I have always been me!!! Throwback style vulnerabilityposting

This severe breakdown started (or became unmanagable) when i tried to quit my job earlier this year and it didnt work out. like last time 10 years ago!!! When i tried to transition and the psych i went to couldnt help me and then etc.

i had one idea for how to fix everything and save myself and when it didnt happen i fell apart!!

And like, im much more functional now. ive done everything i could, made good choices, kept up w work but basically deprioritized it, i took care of myself physically, i reached out, made local friends, tried dating, went to a therapist (they said im outside of their competence and need psychiatry/medication - but i have horrific health anxiety and am very scared of psych drugs), reconnected w my family, stopped drinking, made art, took a trip. Instead of hiding in my room for 4 months while everything slipped away and then attempting suicide like i did at 19. (Also made some insane decisions and spent 1/3 of my savings. But all in trying to help myself!) (I did occasionally think back on back rhen and wonder if what i have now is worse than then, but did not draw conclusions on the situation overall)

And the problem then and now ofc is the need for fixing everything and saving myself, finding life as is unbearable! and all the good mental health moves ive made were targeted towards creating a liveable life but i just kept getting worse. Im basically never not crying w terror these days. And what fixed it then was finding another way towards transition and working towards that (slowly and painfully and terrifiedly!) (years long climb out of the abyss!) (I am maybe not in the abyss rn!) I didnt know how to try again right away!!

Like this morning i was like hm, what if i applied for jobs again. (Bc basically seems like my defence got pushed back again, or actually my boss said sth dumb that suggests he sees me sticking around and doesnt realize im not at my limit, i am beyond it, if im meant to finish my thesis i need at least a month off, maybe a whole sabbatical,maybe psychiatric care) And then had this entire epiphany. And i gotta bring lunch to my grandparents across town and like support and take care of them, then go see my parents, whom ive missed and waited for desperately, and now ofc i am contemplating moves they will uh not approve of lmao. Ive been getting ready to have a breakdown in front of them and like ask for a hug bc we havent touched each other in years, and idk if i need that anymore.

Anyway yeah, what does that do to the terror? Idk.

[simplylove101]

2024 Horror Challenge: [30/?]

↳“As I've always believed, there's nothing that can't be explained.” Oddity (2024) dir. Damian McCarthy

Plot: A psychic medium attempts to uncover the truth behind her sister's murder at the site of the crime.

Starring: Gwilym Lee, Carolyn Bracken, Tadhg Murphy, Caroline Menton, Jonathan French & Steve Wall

Oh man, my 30th review... And I gotta say, I may have found my horror movie of the year unexpectedly?? I'm still trying to decide since I've got certain faves I've had so far and I know with Longlegs, I'm not 100% sure which one I preferred. I do think it was this one, maybe because the plot really intrigued me a little bit more since it truly felt different. So, right off the bat, the movie had that going for it. It did take me a minute to actually get invested I will admit because the framing of the narrative kinda threw me for a loop briefly just because we have an opening that kinda sets the eerie tone but we don't get to actually see what happens right away. I understand that's the point since besides it being a horror movie, it's also a mystery, but the transition to the present felt a little jarring. That said, once it got me, it really did get me. It is genuinely a creepy little tale that's a slowburn and I actually had a visceral reaction to a couple scenes (one in particular just because I didn't really see it coming somehow lol) What I like about the scares is that while they're rather effective imo, they're not necessarily jump scares. Like I did jump but they set it up in a way where I can't be mad at it tbh. They feel earned because it's more about the dread settling in before it comes. Now, the actual mystery wasn't necessarily shocking to me cuz I could maybe have guessed it but that didn't make me enjoy it any less. Like I said, once it got me, it kept me. The acting was great from everyone in a small cast, the only one I knew of beforehand was Gwilym Lee from The Great (who gets to show some of his range here) Carolyn Bracken does a wonderful job playing both of the sisters (it even took me a minute to realize that she was both of them lol) and she really sells Darcy's psychic stuff very well. I don't really know what else to say except that there's some imagery that is staying me after this watch and I'm really glad that it was able to live up to the hype for me. I've seen it on other people's faves list for 2024 and I genuinely get it. It's certainly on mine. Also, props to the trailer people for not giving everything away because that was a pleasant surprise to see when I watched it afterwards! Highly recommend.

[goboymusic]

Happy #TheLastofUs day. Watching the shit out of episode 3 on HBO Max tonight. Watching it so hard.

Ever hear of a #McGuffin in the film industry? A “McGuffin” is an object that the plot revolves around, like the ring in #LordoftheRings, or the infinity stones in the #Avengers movies. In songwriting, names are like McGuffins. It’s really convenient to pick a name and then write a song that revolves around it.

#Hannah is the first of many song titles on GoBoy 5, 6 and 7 that are named after girls. Some of them are real, some of them are arbitrarily selected. I never dated a Hannah, though I did have a serious crush on a Hannah when I was in elementary school, and she knew it.

Gotta admit, I think it’s pretty funny seeing three or more tracks on the same album with different girl names.

Came up with the chorus while eating #ChipsAhoy original cookies at work and dealing with a shipment that was damaged in transit. The event is burned into my memory. Paper pusher life for the win.

Speaking of The Last of Us, I was introduced to the source material while mixing vocals for “Hannah” back in August, 2020, by watching @thaRadBrad play through both games. Needless to say, my mind was blown. While mixing songs, something entertaining is always playing in the background for extra brain stimulation, whether that be a movie, tv series, a video game play through, podcast, etc. Anything but music, because I can’t mix music while listening to other music (explained in post 87).

After recording and mixing the vocals, they weren’t meshing with the instruments (that’s my issue with developing instruments prior to mixing vocals), so I muted the instruments and started from scratch. Minimalistic instruments are what this song needed in the end, mostly consisting of tom drums and distorted synth.

It was around this time (midway through GoBoy 5) that GoBoy’s production process changed so that instrument tracks would be created AFTER the vocals were mixed. That way, I could ensure that the beat and instruments meshed with the vocals. After all, in GoBoy songs, the melody is the most important part, and the instruments only exist to support it. This new production process would be used for every song on GoBoy 6 and beyond (excerpts from post 87).

“Hannah” was restructured six months after it’s original release. The final chorus was deleted, leaving only two choruses, and an instrumental section was added between the 1st verse and 2nd chorus. These adjustments gave the song more replay value. Far less annoying.

Beat + bass + melody. That’s the style of GoBoy 5. While I’ve appreciated this minimalistic style for years, “Tell My Mama (Song 42)” was the first time trying it. I went whole-hog with GoBoy 5, in which most songs primarily consist of a beat, bass and melody (excerpt from post 80).

For GoBoy 5, instead of creating for the sake of creating, like I did for GoBoy 4, I wanted to make poppier songs that would appeal to a larger audience. Was that goal accomplished? Well, maybe, I guess. It resulted in the song “In Love (Song 82),” which everyone and their mother seems to like (excerpt from post 79).

GoBoy 5 ragdolled me. I remember wondering if I’d live to see the completion of the album. While the style is minimalistic, the writing and production processes were chaotic, akin to throwing darts with a blindfold on. Most songs turned into a puzzle once they reached the mixing phase, with a portion of the pieces being destined not to fit. It required constant compromising - discarding segments, restructuring, rewriting, etc. The combination of the difficult production process and temporary chaos at work left a blood-soaked trail behind me (excerpt from post 80).

In April, 2021, almost all of GoBoy 3, 4 and 5‘s songs were restructured to be under 3 minutes (preferably under 2m 30s), including this song. I became okay with releasing songs around the 2 min mark after realizing The Beatles and The Beach Boys had some songs around that length. In an attempt to increase replay value in this streaming era, most of GoBoy’s songs are now purposely around 2m 20s (excerpts from post 37).

A bass boost was added to songs 37-99 in Nov, 2021, while I was stuck at home with covid. As a result, this song feels more powerful. The bass boost isn’t a simple plugin nonchalantly added to each song. It’s a process that took about 3.5 hours per song, or one whole month to complete all songs. Admittedly, I pushed the bass boost a little too far for some of them. The bass in some songs sounds like a freaking earthquake (unnecessarily pronounced low frequencies 20 - 50 Hz). Might dial that back someday. The bass boost was also applied to every song on GoBoy 6 and beyond (excerpt from post 37).

[primofate]

Hi Lenaaaaa! Long time no.. see? Hahaha ♡ I've always love to keep up with all of your works, especially your Ruthless Prince series! The angst and drama in the first parts got me hooked and make me feel heart wrenching emotions... like kicking scara's ass jk. And then it transitioned to feeling giddy like a fool when he started being a softie and I'm just like "what a tsundere." 😂 I can't wait to see Childe shaking up his feelings! 👀

I know you're still in a semi-hiatus so I've been putting off my idea of requesting comissions since I don't want to disturb you. But I'm so happy and excited that you have a little event right now! (and gotta grab the chance!)

Can I get one for Ayato please? 😇 Or if you're still not sure with Ayato's personality, Childe is fine!

The one I have in mind is that they have an S/O who is extremely sensitive to cold, they can hardly stand it so they always bundled up themselves when the winter comes and often seek warmth... from anything or anyone 😉

Thank you so much Lena! ♡

Hahaha hello there lovely person <3 

Yeah commissions are closed for the moment cause I'm still getting used to work but I adore you for trusting me to not disappoint and am looking forward to opening them again soon. Haha! Probably over the summer! 

I love this request btw, though I’m not sure I did it justice. Running out of ideas on how to warm up people who are cold omg HAHAHA XD

Scenario: How Ayato handles reader who is extremely sensitive to the cold.

Warning: goes through the phases of dating up until marriage, a bit of crackfic elements if you squint....hahaha... not properly proofread

Characters: Ayato, fem!reader

Ayato

How he found out 

Long before the two of you started dating Ayato was very observant of your mannerisms. How you turned away from a breeze, how you would rather stay in during the winters, and if you really had to go out, you’d look like a little puffy penguin under all the layers you were wearing. 

Even when wearing gloves, you’d still rub your hands together in an extra attempt to keep warm. He only watches as you do this, keen eye wondering how he might help you without getting too involved. The two of you were just friends at that point, he wouldn’t act out of his bounds. 

So, you were a little confused when you woke up one day and just as you were about to go out, there was a bottle of hot lavender melon milk by your door. You almost missed it, but you picked it up and sighed at how warm it was in your gloved hands. 

Curious. It’s as if the person knew what time you usually went out, cause the milk was still perfectly warm despite the biting cold. 

How it started

It was...rather unusual. It hadn’t been winter. 

In fact it was a nice summer day when you and Ayaka went to the beach near the Kamisato estate. Ayaka wasn’t one to indulge too much. In that sense, she was a bit like her brother. Getting to go near the sea and enjoying it was a different experience for her. 

Inazuma, being an island, there were plenty of places where the sand and sea met. There were actually beaches everywhere, and this one was easily accessible down the hill of the Kamisato estate. 

“Y/N, would you...do me a favour?” It was rare for Ayaka to ask something and she proceeded to tell you that she’d wanted to practice her Suigetsu fan dance, and wanted someone’s opinion. 

You’ve always wanted to see it and the moment she started, you were mesmerized by her fluid hand movements. You didn’t really think that Ayaka knew how to dance, but this was proof of the opposite. 

You didn’t know that a sudden, beautiful burst of cryo was part of her dance, and when the ice shatters upwards into pretty flakes, Ayaka’s feet now standing on ice, you were startled, but very much impressed. 

“That was...beautiful!” you clapped your hands, but there definitely was a cold air swirling around the area now. 

Not wanting to offend your friend you resisted from shivering and held up a smile, just as Ayato came strolling by. “The two of you enjoying the sun?” he queries and you nod stiffly, while Ayaka gushes about what a beautiful day it was. Ayato chuckles at his sister’s excitement, “Wonderful. Ah, though I do recall you promised Thoma to meet him about some type of gathering the two of you are planning,”

Ayaka jolted, hand hovering above her mouth. “Oh! It’s completely slipped my mind, I-I’m terribly sorry Y/N!” she’s apologizing for just leaving you hanging, to which Ayato reassures her with another of his princely smiles. “Not to worry sister, I’ll keep Y/N company,” 

That’s exactly what he did. Though, he can’t say even till this day, that he expected you to come rushing over to him and just...stayed close and huddled, your hands rubbing over each other.

He wasn’t sure what was happening until you started explaining. “S-Sorry! It’s just, I feel a little cold and you’re the closest person here so... Aghhh! It’s just instinct!” 

Ayato blinks down at you and you thought that you heard him stifle a laugh. He puts two and two together, being able to sense the elemental residues of cryo around the area. “...Just standing around won’t do, will it? Come closer,” 

It’s the first time he wraps you in his arms, warm sleeves and homely comfort, hand behind your waist and the other cradling your neck, you knew you were going to crave this each and every time. Your cheeks heat up, and despite being buried into his clothes you can’t help but feel embarrassed. 

“S-Sorry,” you repeated, closing your eyes to will the shyness away, still keeping your arms to yourself.

“Whatever for?” He takes his hand and moves your arm, placing it on his waist and signaling you to wrap it around him. 

In the simplest sense, you were freaking out. 

“Come now, I’d rather it be me than someone else helping you feel warm like this,”

And so what brought the two of you together, was actually a sunny summer day and a dance.

Extra scarf

When you started dating, he was always considerate of the weather. He’d pick you up from home and tell you your options quite clearly. “Well, looks to be a sunny day today, would you like to have a walk around the island?” 

Or if it was colder than usual, “It’s rather cold today, my dear, we can stay in, or perhaps relax at the teahouse?”

And what if you had gone out to walk around, only for the weather to suddenly change? Well, that had happened a few times too.

Ayato was rather secretive, he had a spot at the edge of town where the two of you could quietly sit, overlooking the seas surrounding Inazuma. It was tranquil there, and he loved it because it gave him some peace. Adding you into the mix and it was like his safe haven. 

It was not unusual for the two of you to just sit here on a sunny day and bask in each other’s presence. Shoulder’s touching, bodies gradually moving closer to each other as the night approaches. 

It’s colder at night, but he’s always ready for it. 

He has an extra shawl. The feel of it is rather nice, and the warmth lets you know that the cotton used in making it is of good quality. Though, you can never get used to the fact that he’d always pull it out of his sleeve. You’re always joking about what else he has in there.

He only grins at you as if it’s a secret. 

Lovingly, he places the shawl around you and wraps it around your front. In truth, the shawl is not the one that brings you the extra warmth. 

It’s his lips that press on your forehead, the arm that snakes around your waist, the breath of his voice at the shell of your ear saying, “You don’t have to worry about being cold as long as I’m here, Y/N,” 

But what if he wasn’t?

He’s a very, very busy man. You’d never seen someone as hardworking as him. It’s a wonder that he even had the time of day to spend with you and you’ve always told him you understand. He doesn’t have to worry about you too much.

He’s diligent in keeping his schedule with you as promised, but there are several times where you don’t see each other for days and even weeks, despite being married.

He hates being away from you, but he hates it even more when he’s away during winter. 

It means that he doesn’t get to feel you curl into him, he doesn’t get to hook his legs with yours and pull you closer. Doesn’t get to engulf you in his warm embrace, or stay in bed a little longer, letting you melt into him. You most likely don’t know that the way you cushion your face in the nape of his neck makes him melt too. 

He doesn’t get to say “Your hands are cold, darling,” before guiding them up his lips and drowning them in his breath. He can’t forget about your nose and once he’s done with your hands he’ll lean in and touch foreheads with you, radiating warmth like a sunrise would. 

In that state, it’s only you and him. Ayato never thinks about anything else except having you to wake up to every morning. 

So when he’s away, a piece of him is missing, and the routines that he’s so used to is taken away. He wonders how you’re coping this cold morning. Wonders if there’s any way he could go back for at least a day, even without finishing his work. 

And when he finally comes back,

it feels like he’s been gone for ages. The sight of you bundled up in blankets, legs under the heated kotatsu greeting him as he arrives. 

You turn your head, expecting Thoma with the hot green tea. “Thanks Thoma--” then your eyes light up “Ayato!” He’s home earlier than expected, and he’ll always try to be home earlier than expected if you’re waiting. 

He chuckles and joins you at the kotatsu, peeling the blankets off of you and easily moving you over to his lap, arms securely around your middle and starting to pepper warm kisses on your forehead. He knows you love those. 

“Welcome home,” you whisper, hand comfortably snaking up his shirt and just soaking up his body heat. He’s used to it, and he doesn’t complain, mostly because he understands. He won’t be able to keep his hands off of you for a while either, after being away for so long. Though, the act is totally innocent, and he’s more than happy to just be your heater for the remainder of the day.

“You should go rest, Ayato,” you’re always chiding him to get some shut eye but he only hums. “Not when my wife is calling another man’s name as I walk into our house,” 

You gasp and hit his shoulder playfully, but you knew that he was merely jesting. He actually loved to do so around you, in a mischievous and somewhat flirty way. “You know I wouldn’t do that,” you play along, faking a sad face, managing a small laugh out of him.

He kisses your nose and says a simple, “I missed you,” just as he lifts you off the ground with him.

“Me too,” you reply, and rest your head on his chest, knowing that the two of you are probably going to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed. 

Until he’s had his fill, and until you’ve had yours.

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[seconds-not-decades]

Step {Back} In Time

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem! OC

Author's Note: Hello and welcome. This is my season two fic (and sequel to Time and Chase). I will be posting daily. *Please note that I am well aware that Elliot Page portrays Viktor, but due to season two being before his transition, that is why his character is still Vanya. I am not deadnaming him and I sincerely hope I don't come across as such. I will transition when I write season three.*

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood and minor injuries, and minor violence.

Previous | Next

The Swedish Job

~ * ~

On April the 1st, 2019, the Earth was destroyed in a cataclysmic event.

Billions of people were wiped out in a matter of minutes.

Ironically, the seven survivors of the apocalypse were the very family members who brought it on.

~ * ~

Best way to end the day: frantically helping Lila try to fix Diego's stab wound. Diego screamed out when Lila pressed the hot metal to his wound.

"Shh! Don't move. This thing is very finicky," Lila told Diego, pressing a cloth to soak up excess blood.

"What happened?" he groaned in pain.

"I saved your stupid life and your dear sister-in-law is helping me," Lila responded as Karina came back with a first aid kit.

"Were you following me?" Diego eyed Lila.

"Uh, hey, how about a little gratitude, knife boy. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead."

"That's twice now, by the way," Karina added.

Diego's head shot up. "Where are my clothes? The hell happened to my clothes?"

"I said, don't move!" Lila snapped as he attempted to sit up. She pressed the metal utensil to his wound again and it sizzled.

Diego shrieked out in pain and fell back, groaning.

"There. That's better," Lila was satisfied as Diego softly moaned.

A flash of blue light occurred and Five appeared, sighing when he saw the three.

"Oh. He isn't dead," he observed his brother dryly.

"Disappointed?" Lila asked as Karina began to stitch Diego up.

"Oh, to see you? Always," Five answered sarcastically, grabbing a cloth from Karina's side and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"So much hostility in such a tiny package," Lila eyed him. He stepped away, pressing the cloth to his neck. "Did you cut yourself shaving? I could teach you to shave like a big boy."

He sighed. "No, I just ran into an old family friend," he gave Karina a reassuring look before she could open her mouth.

There was a soft snoring from behind him and he glanced back to see Elliot deep asleep, still bound to his chair.

"You didn't untie him?" Five looked at Lila.

"Was I supposed to?" she frowned.

Karina finished stitching up Diego. "I'll go release him." She heaved a breath as she got up, grabbing a bandage along the way. She brushed past Five and went to untie their friend.

"Thanks for staying here," Five watched her.

"Of course," she waltzed over to him and before he could protest, she gently lifted his head to inspect his neck. She hissed in pain. "Whoever or whatever got you, wasn't holding back." She cleaned his cut and put the bandage over it.

"Well, it was my mistake for getting too close," Five admitted flatly.

Early the next morning, Elliot was in the main room, reading a book. Suddenly, an alarm started beeping loudly and a red light blinked.

"Hey, we got one," Elliot announced. "Hey, one of those machines you asked for is going crazy."

"Which one?" Five came over with Karina.

"It's the, uh, atmospheric radar," Elliot looked at the screen.

Five studied it as well. "Good."

"I don't get it. What are you two tracking?" Elliot questioned. "A hurricane? A storm front?"

"Sound waves," Karina replied.

"Sound waves," Elliot echoed.

Before Elliot could say anything else, the couple blinked out.

~ * ~

The two reappeared in the middle of a huge blast area that smashed and wiped out a portion of the cornfield.

"Oh, wonderful," Karina looked around. "Do you remember where exactly the sound waves were pinpointed on Elliot's radar?"

"Yeah. Come on, she's gotta be around here somewhere," Five beckoned her to him.

The two ran off to their right. Cornstalk snapped beneath their feet as they began to search for Vanya. In the distance, Five noticed a rather familiar silhouette crouched down. He went that way and parted the corn, seeing his sister hidden from view.

"Hi, Vanya," Five greeted casually and Karina smiled at her.

"Who are you two?" Vanya slowly stood up.

"I'm your brother," Five replied. "And this is your sister-in-law." He gestured to Karina.

"I have a brother?" Vanya was stunned and she glanced at Karina. "And a sister-in-law? Are…Aren't you a little young to be married?"

"Long story," Karina admitted.

"Look, you can either stay here and wait for the IKEA mafia to come back to kill you, or you can come with us," Five got them back on track, starting to walk off.

"Wh-Why are they trying to kill me?" Vanya stammered, quickly following the couple.

"'Cause you're not supposed to be here, Vanya," Karina responded.

"In Dallas?"

"No. Here, in 1963."

After fighting their way through the cornstalks, they got back to the crop circle Vanya pretty much created.

"Holy shit," Vanya was shocked.

"Yeah, pretty wild, right?" Karina softly laughed.

Five sighed. "It's good to see your powers are still intact. Let's go."

The three ended up going to a café to catch Vanya up on what's been going on.

"Leave the pot, dear," Five requested to the waitress pouring his coffee. "Thank you."

She set the pot down next to his cup. "Lippy little shit," she muttered as she walked off.

"You gonna tell me what the hell's going on?" Vanya got to the point, sitting between the couple.

"When you were a baby, you were bought by an eccentric billionaire," Five began the explanation. "He raised you in an elite academy with six other siblings with extraordinary powers, but in the year 2019, in order to avoid the apocalypse, we jumped into a vortex and ended up being scattered throughout the timeline in Dallas, Texas."

"Any questions?" Karina piped up, taking a sip of her orange juice.

"What do you mean, "the apocalypse"?" Vanya stared at them in disbelief.

"We mean the end of the world as we know it," Five replied.

"Yeah, but how?"

Five and Karina exchanged a rather concerned look.

"You really don't remember anything?" Five softly inquired.

"No, nothing before a month ago," his sister shook her head.

"Then what do you remember?" Karina tried, her voice gentle.

Vanya thought for a moment. "I landed in, like, a…back alley. Got hit by a car. My head was ringing like crazy. I had no idea how I got there, where I came from." She paused. "What causes the apocalypse?"

Five looked away and down, debating to say the truth. Karina gave him a concerned look and she deeply hoped he'd be the one to be honest to her. After all, she had been lied to about her powers for almost her entire life. Surely Five wouldn't be the next to hide the truth, right?

"Asteroid impact," he finally answered with. "The big kaboom ends everything. Just like the one that got the dinosaurs, except way worse," he took the coffee cup into his hands. "Bad news is, it followed us here."

"What do you mean, "followed us"?" Vanya sat up in her chair a bit more.

"Eight days from now, the world ends in a nuclear doomsday. It's a different disease, but…same result," Five explained.

She slightly shook her head. "That can't be right."

"We saw it. With our own eyes," he sighed. "You were there. We all were." He stared forward and down, focusing his gaze on his ring.

She glanced down as well. "Shit," she saw a phone behind her. "I need to make a phone call." She leapt to her feet and hurried off.

"Vanya," Five turned to stop her, but Karina caught his arm.

"Let her go," she looked at him sympathetically, taking Vanya's seat next to him.

Five let out a slow, soft exhale as he took a drink of his coffee.

Vanya was still on the phone as Five and Karina watched her. He subconsciously slipped his arm around Karina's waist and she smiled, subtly leaning into him.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Five muttered in irritation.

Karina lifted a shoulder. Aggravated as ever now, he downed the rest of his coffee.

"Five, what are you-" Karina broke off as he stalked over to the phone.

He inserted a few coins and ended the phone call abruptly.

"What the hell?" Vanya demanded.

"We don't have time for this!" Five told her.

"That's my friend you just hung up on!"

"Listen to me," Five took her shoulders and continued in a soft voice. "Those people from the field are coming after us. They are never going to stop. Do you understand me? We need to stick together, find the others, figure out how to stop doomsday. Whoever this person is, they can't be more important than the end of the world. We need to go."

He let her go and Vanya stared down blankly before reluctantly putting the phone away. She sighed and followed the couple out.

~ * ~

Five, Karina, and Vanya slipped through the roaring crowd. They were trying to see Luther at the boxing ring.

His opponent was against the wall, panting and catching his breath. Luther was readying himself for another round of punches to throw. But suddenly his expression changed. That gave his opponent the chance to punch him, though Luther took it without a punch back.

The crowd groaned as the opponent continued to punch Luther. Vanya and Karina were cringing as Five watched his brother anxiously.

"Look, he's pummeling him," Vanya commented.

Luther got thrown against the wall in front of the trio.

"Luther, fight back!" Five cried as Luther kept getting beaten badly.

"What is he doing?" Karina was in disbelief.

"Luther, are you crazy? Hit him back!" Five yelled.

Luther kept getting punched as the crowd roared and Jack Ruby was screaming at him. His opponent upper cut Luther square in the chin, sending him flying back and knocking him out. Vanya, Five, and Karina gasped sharply, watching him crash to the ground. Angry shouting and booing roared from the crowd.

"Shit," Five breathed out.

"Luther," Karina whispered.

"Why didn't he fight back?" Vanya asked.

Five shook his head, knowing they had to get Luther to out of there to get patched up.

~ * ~

[mysterylover123]

BNHA Chapter 319 "Deku, This is an Intervention"

warning: This Post Contains Copious Amounts of Ranting about SasukeDeku. If you don't care for that sort of thing feel free to ignore.

On the one hand: FUCK YES CLASS 1 A IS BACK BABIES AND BETTER THAN EVER!!!

on the other, Deku DID YOU SERIOUSLY BREAK UP WITH KACCHAN VIA LETTER TOO!?!?! Dammit all this time I thought you two had a fight but you just dumped him like everyone else? WTF DUDE

YES YOU DO KACCHAN. Time for you to put that knowledge to the test and save them

WHOA

New Fierce Done with this Shit Ochako is doing things to me, man. THAT STARE. I really hope this incident has pulled Deku down off the pedestal for her and she's no longer trying to Be Just Like Him. Cause new Independent Ochako is DAYUM.

YOU TELL HIM SHOTO.

You know Deku, ILU and Bakugou together and will always ship it...but you keep pulling this crap and I may be tempted to jump ship to Todobaku completely. I'm serious. Look at that gentle hand on the shoulder from Katsuki. Comforting Shoto, supporting him. Look at them leading class 1-A together. Like Win/rescue heroes. That was supposed to be you, Deku. Shoto's stealing your spot.

Though there are this BKDK feels again. HE doesn't take himself into ccount. Kacchan knows Deku better than anyone else and he knows how much in danger he is.

1) A little TDMM. 2) BAKUGOU WHY.

Anyway over to the Intervention itself (Sorry I didn't include Iida's speech but that 10 pic limit's a harsh mistress). So at first I was kinda mad that we didn't get a kind moment between the Wonder Duo, but at this point All Might and Endeav have tried being nice. Deku needs some tough love. He needs Bakugou to cut through the crap and talk honestly to him, even rudely, because he just won't listen to anything else.

OK so for fans who don't like my irrational dislike for SasukeDeku please scroll through the upcoming obligatory Rant.

OH SCREW YOU MAN!!! YOUR FREAKING FRIENDS (INCLUDING IIDA AND OCHAKO YOUR BESTIES) WHO YOU WANTED TO SMILE WITH AND WHO ARE HERE TO HELP YOU JUST WANNA TALK AND YOU ARE THREATENING THEM?!!? WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?! NOT EVEN HAPPY TO SEE THEM. NOT EVEN A HELLO. NOT EVEN AN ATTEMPT AT "I'M SORRY BUT THIS IS SOMETHING I GOTTA DO" JUST IMMEDIATELY INTO THE "GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY"?!!

I'm sorry guys but this isn't freaking Deku. I reread old chapters all the time, and the Deku who was always there for his friends, who saved Bakugou in chapter one after he told him to kill himself - who wants now to save his own archnemesis because of his compassion, who cares about his friends more than anything...I'm sorry but this just doesn't work for me. I don't see the transition, I don't see where this freaking came from, I'm FUCKING SICK OF IT, and if this trinity of awesome don't snap him back to the character we knew by the end of next chapter...

Sorry Deku but keep this shit up and I'll officially hand the reins of this series over to Bakugou here. Look at him and Shoto leading Class 1-A like real heroes. Look at them figuring out what you're up to and saving you and the day. Just behold this character development and awesomeness. This intervention better work dammit or I just give up on you, SasukeDeku.

Oh and if you hurt Ochako in the bargain I will hunt you down.

OK rant over. Anyway I like this chapter, though I wish ti had been more personal. And that Deku wasn't being such a pill right now. Honestly I'm tired of it. And just tired in general. Please save the series Class 1A I've had just about enough of this.

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 327 Spoiler Analysis: Home Sweet Home

OH MY GOD, GUYS!!!  DEKU GETS A BATH!!!! 🎉🛁 🧼   My broccoli boy finally gets squeaky clean, gets some sleep, and we finally get some R&R time with the Class 1-A kids.  It’s not close to the happy-go-lucky days of old, but it’s some time with the kids nonetheless.  I’m glad Horikoshi put some heart and humor in this chapter because god knows we needed it.  But, let’s be real, this is the calm before the storm:

The chapter starts off with what everyone and Horikoshi has been wanting for Deku since he went on his mission: A motherfuckin’ bath 🛀 🧼🛁!   Kaminiari and Kirishima lead the Class 1-A boys to carry Deku into their side of the UA Alliance bathhouse (looks real nice btw) and give him a good power-wash.  The whole sequence is very comical!  The boys are rushing in and poor Deku has this O_O face on him like “what is happening?” 😂 We also see some of the boys butt naked 😳  It’s clear that Horikoshi had fun drawing this thing and it was fun to read 💚

Bakugo is with them of course and you can actually see his scars from when Shigaraki stabbed him.  He’s not bleeding, but you can see those scar patches on his skin.  I’m curious of how fan artist are going to draw him from now on.  I would like to see that fan art 👀

There’s also some bubble sfx coving Bakugo’s crotch and a translator said it might say dick or penis.  I’m curious what the officials will say.

But, Bakugo being Bakugo is still aggressive towards his classmates.  More playfully than before, but still.  He reminds everyone that he still intends on being the best there is and that everyone is still his rivals (also friends, Bakugo).  HE EVEN MAKES AN ATTEMPT TO CALL DEKU IZUKU!  LIKE HE ALMOST SAID “DEKU” BUT HE CHANGED IT TO IZUKU AT THE LAST MINUTE!  AND DEKU SAYS THAT CALLING HIM DEKU IS JUST FINE LIKE THAT ANGER THAT ORIGINATED FROM THE NICKNAME ISN’T THERE ANYMORE AND IT’S A FREINDLY NICKNAME BKDK FRIENDSHIP GROWTH YOU LOVE TO SEE IT 🧡💚  

After Deku’s bath, he’s sitting in the commons talking to the rest of Class 1-A.  Well, most of them.  Mina tells Deku that Ochako and a few other students went to bed after everything became ok again.  So, I definitely didn’t see Tsuyu, and it looks like Shoji, Aoyama, and Hagakare weren’t in this chapter either.  Ochako I understand; her speech must’ve been emotionally taxing.  Aoyama and Hagakare are the top suspects for being the traitor in the fandom and this isn’t helping their cases.  I don’t know about Tsuyu and Shoji though.  They’re both mutant-types, but characters like Ojiro or mutant-like people like Jiro, Mina or Tokoyami didn’t get outcasted.  Horikoshi did hint that Shoji would be getting something soon.  But, I really am just speculating here.

Now that Deku’s back, everyone has questions for him.  Though I understand why, this has gotta be overwhelming for Deku.  At least they’re not mad at him for hiding OFA.  They seem very understanding actually.

Then my ❄️🔥 boy, Shoto Todoroki, comes in all handsome right out of the baths 💙  He’s drying his right side while you can see a steam cloud on his left.  So, it is canon that Shoto drys himself naturally with his heat. His entrance is so pretty that even Mineta’s questioning it (shut up, Mineta, you’ll never be as beautiful as him).  And yes, I might be a Shoto simp, don’t judge me I see y’all too 👀

Anyway, Shoto asks everyone to let Deku sleep since that was pretty much the whole reason they brought him back.  Problem is, Deku can’t because he really needs to apologize to All Might for abandoning him.  AND AFTER HE SAYS THAT THERE’S A DETAILED PANEL OF SHOTO POINTING TO ALL MIGHT LIKE “UH, MIDORIYA? HE’S RIGHT THERE” AND ALL MIGHT LOOKING FROM THE WINDOW LIKE A HORROR VILLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE 😭

All Might comes in and apologizes to Deku for not being able to support him when he needed it, but Deku says that All Might support him more than enough.  Mina also scolds All Might for not saying anything when he left.  She wants All Might to apologize to everyone for that.  Though I’m glad Deku and All Might have reconciled (I honestly thought that last convo between them was going to be THE LAST for a hot minute), Mina has a point.  All Might did bail on all of them without any warning.  Kinda messed up in general.

All Might apologizes and he is going to fight with everyone regardless of his physical state so that he can see that flame continue to shine.  However, he warns the kids that they got info on the villains and that the final decisive battle is coming soon.  If the whole “Final Arc” thing hasn’t been hammered into your head, there you go.  I’m also glad that Stain’s speech did end up motivating All Might further.  Who knew?

So, All Might is off to help Endeavor since he’s got unfinished business to take care of.  But, the kids are wondering why Endeavor (and probably Hawks) isn’t entering UA entirely yet.  Shot reminds them that Endeavor is still connected to Dabi and that his presence alone would cause more discourse.  People’s minds can’t change that easily.  Shoto of all people would know.  

As Deku FINALLY SLEEPS 💤 and Shoto puts a blanket over him (possibly warmed by his left side 🔥) 💙💚 Shoto acknowledges how his presence might be making people anxious too even though it’s not his fault at all (thank you, Kirishima for doubling down on this btw ❤️🪨).  But, things are different and Shoto’s going to show that so that everyone can be at ease like he wants as a hero.  There’s even this sweet small smile on his beautiful face as he says this.  He’s grown so much and he’s pretty to boot I love him so much *HANDS IN FACE* 💙❄️🔥 

EVEN KIRISHIMA’S CRYING FROM HOW MANLY SHOTO IS I LOVE THESE KIDS!!!!

And now Jiro steps up and says her piece.  That she knows how hard it is to convince everyone to change their minds for the better.  Like with those two critics from the Culture Fest.  Even so, they accomplished this before, so she thinks they can do it again.  She even gathers all the band members to emphasize on this.  I love how Jiro uses her earphone jacks to rally the band and how she literally drags Bakugo by the shirt for a cute group shot.  None of these kids are afraid of Bakugo anymore LOL 😂!  Also, Momo is the tallest out of all of them in this line up shot (except for Bakugo who’s still being dragged on the ground).  I think she’s roughly 5ft 6-7 inches?  She’s the tallest of the girls I know that, but damn.  She towers all of them.  Even me...  She’s also very pretty in this shot and it’s her birthday as I’m posting this, so happy b-day Momo ❤️

And we get a beautiful panel of Jiro leading everyone to make sure that they’ll go beyond with making everything better than it was before.  We get a nice group shot of the rest of the class agreeing with her with a smile including Shoto with a small one (did I mention that I love him?) 💙💙💙 And Deku’s in the center still sleeping away.  I hope he has good dreams *kisses forehead*💚  And go Jiro for stepping up to the plate too 💜!  All these kids have grown so much.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Finally, the last pages show Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist going somewhere, maybe Tartarus.  They got info out of Dr. Ujiko via polygraph and the Nomu Research Group at Central Hospital.  They predict that they have 2 months until Shigaraki’s ready to go again, so they’ll need 1 month of preparation.  But, the info Stain gave All Might gave them more info.  His letter ended up being a personal letter to All Might (Stain really is that nuts...), but there was a microchip in the blade Stain left containing the security records from Tartarus.  It’s not stated how this info affected the mission at hand, but it sounds like it has to do something with the time frame.  So, I’m curious if they have less time to prepare or more?  Given how this is the Final Arc, Imma say less.

Finally, the teaser asks “How are the villains moving?”  I wonder if that means we’re switching to the villain’s next week.  I would love to hang out with the kids more, but I would also like to know what our villains are up to.  Like, where the hell is Himiko Toga?  Is Spinner still questioning shit?  What happened to Mr. Compress after he mauled himself to help Shigaraki and the others escape?  Also I think we need more info on this dude’s backstory given he’s the grandson of the famous Robin Hood villain who’s name definitely didn’t escape me... 😐  Is Dabi laughing his ass off from the utter chaos he started?  Is AFO still smiling like the evil mastermind he is?  Is Shigaraki as crispy as he was earlier?  I was going to ask about Twice but... 😭

So, yeah!  Love this chapter.  Really good transition chapter into whatever happens next.  I’m kinda sad we didn’t see Deku fight off more past villains during his vigilante days.  We got Muscular and Overhaul and I think that’s it?  Didn’t see any of Overhaul’s minions or that teeth-blade villain (Fish-something?; he broke out, but we haven’t seen him since) or Re-Destro or his goons.  I don’t count as Gentle or LaBrava as villains anymore and they were never truly evil to begin with.  Regardless, it was a really cool arc to see a more dark side of Deku.  I’m really glad Horikoshi made great use of his bunny hood and metal mask finally.  Deku really did look demonic for some time.  Also, seeing Deku badass is always a plus.  And seeing the deconstruction of hero society and the possible reconstruction of it was really good too.  Not everything is sunshine and rainbows, unfortunately, but we can do our best to make it that way.

I’m also glad that we finally got our kids back in top form.  Not just being heroes, but being teenagers too.  They all had great moments especially Iida, Ochako, and now Shoto as they should.  But, Bakugo’s apology was peak for me.  Over 320 chapters of development and build-up lead to that moment and it really is one of the best in the series.  It lives in my head rent free.

So, we got 1-2 months in-manga-time until what is probably the final battle of the series.  God, I can’t believe we’re actually nearing the end of this series.  I started reading it back in 2018 when shit was rough for me. I found this series after listening to the music and reading the hype around it.  I watched the show then I read the manga and it really helped me.  Saved me from a dark place actually.  I will miss this series when it’s done and I will be greatly for the joy Horikoshi has gifted us.  I’ll try to save the farewells for later.  I’d say this series has at least 1-1 1/2 years to go.

Me @ the kids and All Might:

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice- Chapter One

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

AU in which Scully was never assigned to The X Files

“Time passes in moments ... moments which, rushing past, define the path of a life just as surely as they lead towards its end. How rarely do we stop to examine that path, to see the reasons why all things happen, to consider whether the path we take in life is our own making or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed.”

May 1996

Yellow beams of light slip through the blinds, casting stripes across the comforter draped over her hip. She rolls onto her back, pulling in a deep breath as she flexes her wrists and ankles, waking her joints from a deep, dreamless sleep. An arm snakes across her belly, tugging her close as sleep-warm breath tickles her ear.

“Good morning,” Ethan croons, his voice creaky from lack of use.

She rolls to her other side, facing him.

“Morning,” she returns with a soft smile.

“What time is it?” he asks, his eyes blinking sleepily, threatening to close again.

“Early. I have three autopsies today on top of four classes; I need to get a head start. You should go back to sleep,” she says quietly, brushing her fingers across his bare back comfortingly.

He allows his eyes to fall closed and she watches him for a moment. His chocolate brown hair could use a trim, though he’s always preferred to wear it a little long to offset his thick, square eyebrows. She traces a finger along his jaw, landing on the cleft of his chin before considering the deep Cupid’s bow of his lip. She wonders if she has enough time to kiss him in that way that he knows means business.

“I’m gonna get up and make you breakfast,” he grumbles, apparently not sleeping at all.

“No, I’ll grab a muffin at work or something, it’s okay,” she implores.

He pushes up onto his elbow with a soft groan, leaning over to kiss the skin in front of her ear.

“You’re so full of shit, Dana. If I don’t force you to eat breakfast you’ll starve ‘til lunch and you know it,” he says as he gives her a playfully stern look.

She twists her mouth into a suppressed smirk. Guilty as charged.

He makes her eggs and toast while she showers and gets ready for her day, packing clothes for the time she’ll spend in the morgue as well as the classroom. They’ve talked about moving closer to Quantico to shorten her commute, but Ethan is only ten minutes from work so then it would just be him schlepping an hour to and from Georgetown every day. When they’re ready to settle down and start a family, they’ll need to figure something out. For now, it works.

She eats quickly as Ethan studies her over his coffee cup with small, deep-set blue eyes, his expression soft and affectionate.

“What?” she asks around a mouthful of eggs, her eyebrows furrowed.

He shrugs and smirks at her. “Nothin’.”

She dips her chin and glares at him from underneath her eyelashes. “Ethan,” she says in a chastising tone.

He shrugs again and laughs. “Can’t a man just gaze at his girlfriend over breakfast? You’re beautiful, I’m just taking in the view.”

She rolls her eyes and unsuccessfully tries to suppress a smile. “I gotta get going, thanks for breakfast,” she says as she stands and leans down to kiss him quickly on the mouth. He sets his cup down and grips her by the hips, pulling her to stand between his knees. She rests her palms on his shoulders and looks down at him expectantly.

“Have a good day,” he says softly.

She leans down again and kisses him more properly, wishes him a good day as well, and drives south.

——————————————————

The blaring shriek of the alarm clock startles him awake, though it feels like he just fell asleep moments ago. After a few unsuccessful attempts he silences it with a forceful jab, then sits up with a groan. A fluffy black cat with a bob tail leaps up onto the bed, greeting him with a kitten-like mewl.

“Good Morning, Priscilla, you hungry?” he asks as he scratches the cat behind its ears, smiling sleepily at the rumbling purrs that immediately start rattling her rib cage.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he makes his way to the kitchen where he pours a quarter cup of dry food into a bowl on the floor, then starts the coffee. He opens and closes cupboards and drawers, procuring a cup, sugar, and a spoon.

Every time he has to get into a drawer, cabinet, or cupboard, their sparse contents remind him of Valerie. Nearly a year later and he’s still living off the 3 spoons, 2 forks and one knife she left behind, and that’s just the silverware drawer. He doesn’t remember his apartment feeling this empty before she moved in, but now that she’s gone it seems like there’s a Valerie-sized hole everywhere he looks. As amicable and mutually desired as their split had been, it’s been hard to adjust to living alone again. Well, not entirely alone, given that he retained Priscilla in the breakup. She made it a bit easier to move forward after he and Valerie both admitted that while they cared for each other greatly, it wasn’t the kind of love that made you want to grow old on a porch swing together. They may have been best friends, but soulmates they most certainly were not.

He’s grateful to have had her in his life for the time he did. When The X Files were shut down, he wouldn’t have made it through the transition back to the BSU without her patient support, much less her agreement to store the case files he was able to pilfer in their shared apartment. He may not love his job anymore, but it keeps the bills paid and he needs that kind of stability in his life. If it weren’t for Valerie, he probably would have just quit the FBI and gone to work with the Gunmen.

He showers and shaves, consumes two cups of coffee and half an English muffin, then dresses in a charcoal grey suit and red tie. On his way to the door, Priscilla nearly trips him as she weaves through his legs, begging for affection. He stops and crouches down to pet her, and she flops onto her side, closing her eyes in satisfaction.

“I’ll be back later, Prissy Girl,“ he promises, scratching her belly until she gets a wild look in her eye and clamps her pointy claws into the back of his hand.

“Ouch!” he says with a laugh. “You’re not much different than a human woman, Prissy. You don’t know what you want, do you?” She looks at him with alarm as he withdraws his hand, emitting a meow in protest.

He pats Priscilla on the head and locks the door behind him, driving into Washington for another glorious day of looking into the minds of murderers.

[awkwardtickleetoo]

Hello!!! For the questions - 1, 4, 6 + 9 for “the american experience”! It’s so cute and fluffy even though Dream is a meanie 💞

hello!! dream IS a meanie but that's one of my favorite parts about this fic hehehehe 😈

answers about this fic

--

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

okay im gonna be so honest I could've SWORN this fic was inspired by an hc/concept/ask that me and llama talked about but I just looked through BOTH of our blogs from the week or so before this fic was posted and I cannot find anything??? what the hell??? so I guess I was wrong lmao and I guess I was just thinking about jetlagged gogs and boom! fully completed fic, done

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

I have a few for this one!! I'm actually a big fan of how I wrote Dream's teasing in this one, and George's reactions are quite cute too <33 I particularly like this part here (more than One line but it's okay)

"Hmm, I wonder if the other foot is just as ticklish as this one?"

"No!"

"No?"

"Mm-mm!"

"It's not ticklish like the other one?"

"Mm-mm!"

"Well, then I guess you'll have no problem with me doing this, since you're obviously not ticklish here, right?"

just because I really like the playfulness of that little section. here are a couple more that I think are honorable mentions:

[Eventually, through all his wiggling, he managed to pull one of his ankles from Dream's headlock, using it to push at Dream's thigh in an attempt to put him away.] "Uh oh!"..."We got a man down, we gotta fix it!"

-

"Awww, poor Georgie can't handle a little tickling? Is the tickling too much for him?"

-

"Okay, I got you, we're gonna skip to the grand finale, alright?"..."Georgie? Is that alright?"

i like that last one a lot bc I think it's important to make it obvious that everyone involved is having a good time/no one is uncomfortable with the situation. tickling can be pretty intense sometimes, especially if you're not actively seeking it out, so I like to add that stuff in as much as I can :))

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

this fic was actually the first time i've ever like Officially fully written feet tickles!! that may not sound too exciting but I went through such a long period of time thinking i DESPISED the idea of feet tickles but when i finally realized it was just the super intense side that wasn't for me (not that they're not awesome that way too, just not my personal cup of tea) I was able to write it the way I wanted to in a breeze so I think that's pretty cool!!

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

if I'm remembering correctly I think I started writing a version of this fic that wasn't actually feet tickles? I didn't get very far into it because the transition always felt forced and unnatural to me while writing, so I tried to take a different approach and that's how we ended up with what we got. I did go back into the Google doc history and find the original, so here's a VERY brief portion of the original fic,,,,, as a treat :)

"Well," Dream began, fingers sliding up George's leg where they rested over his lap to stop at his hipbone. "I think I have an idea on how to keep you awake." Dream's thumb ghosted over the hem of George's shirt, slowly sliding underneath it and rubbing a calloused finger on the skin there. George looked up at him, eyes wide and eyebrows tense in confusion, until Dream ever-so-lightly scratched his nails up George's side. George tensed, sitting up and slightly arching away from Dream's hand with a gasp, until Dream flattened a hand on his stomach and pushed him back down.

[refuge-au]

>Open the Doctor’s File

Doc: Receive an Invitation

The conference room was small and sparsely decorated, little more than a round table and a handful of chairs in an empty room. The walls were bare, the table empty, and the window that looked out into the hallways covered by blinds.

The window that looked out onto the street, to the east, may as well have been covered too. The only thing visible when you looked out was the greyish hue of smog.

Doc sat in the chair closest to the door on the east side of the table. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his feet were up on the table. He knew his attempt at nonchalance wasn’t fooling anybody, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Etho sat to his right, leaned over the table and absently spinning a rubix cube in his hands. Every so often he’d scramble it and then solve it quickly afterward, seeming slightly disappointed. His left eye was covered in a plain black eyepatch that wasn’t quite big enough to cover the extent of the scarring.

Bdubs sat on Etho’s other side, the drumming of his fingers on the table and the way his eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other every couple of seconds the only things betraying the amount of nervous energy contained inside him.

Beef sat in the last chair on their side of the table, staring at the covered interior window as if he could see through the blinds and into the hallways behind it. His face was expressionless, apparently lost in thought.

No one spoke.

It was the kind of silence they had sat in many times before- part comfort, of being around people who know you better than almost anyone else in the world, and part anxious anticipation. None of them knew exactly what was going to come next.

They had been contacted individually a week or two ago, letters that had no return address slipped under doors or through mail slots. What usually would have been some sort of threat or insult turned out to be a job interview opportunity.

Come to a certain building two weeks from now, the letters read. Tell the receptionist that you’re looking for refuge. Someone will be in to see you shortly.

The most paranoid of the group (Beef) had found out that it was sent by some sort of government official or organization before he contacted the rest of the group to see if they had received the same summons. After a brief discussion, a decision was reached. They would hear out whoever wanted to talk to them.

If things went down badly… as long as they were together they would be able to fight their way out.

Most of the invitation had been true. They found the correct address, and were taken to a room when they asked for refuge… but the person that they were waiting for had not come shortly. It felt like they had been waiting for an eternity- even though his internal clock told him it had only been about twenty minutes.

Ten more minutes, he decided, and then he would leave. If whoever the hell wanted to talk to them was going to be late, they should have told the receptionist to tell them or something. It was basic human decency- although admittedly that did seem to be in short supply these days.

The door handle turned with a click, and four pairs of eyes locked onto it immediately. There was a moment of nothing, and then the door swung open, letting a relatively tall brunette man into the room.

His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, all brown except for a single streak of white from a large x-shaped scar that stretched across most of his face. It was an old scar, very faded, the chunks of white in his hair and his beard some of the only things left to prove that it was there.

He looked slightly winded as he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “Hello, gentlemen. Sorry about the wait. There was a bit of a… conflict. Downstairs, and I ended up having to sort it out.”

He walked over to the table pulling off his gloves and unwrapping his respirator from around his neck before sitting down across from Etho and folding his hands together. “So. You all actually came.”

“Did you expect us not to?” Beef asked, eyeing him warily, apparently not recognizing him.

“Of course not! A government official contacting you out of nowhere, asking you to come and meet them? The fact that you have enough faith in humanity to come here, despite everything, without knowing anything about why you’re being asked here… it’s amazing.” He grinned.

“Amazing is one word for it, sure.” Bdubs said, leaning forward in his chair. “But uh, who are you, and why exactly are we here?”

“If you’re going to try to kill us, we’ll give you a thirty second head start.” Doc added dryly. “But no more than that.”

The man chuckled. “We’re not trying to kill you, we’re trying to offer you a job.”

A job?

Before Doc could express his hesitation, the man continued, putting a hand to his chest:

“My name is Xisuma Void, Captain Void to most people, but you can call me X. I’m putting together a crew.”

“Like a boat crew?” Bdubs asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“A spaceship crew. I’ve been given a mission- go to uncharted territory, chart it, and start a colony on a planet outside the solar system.” He extended his hands in front of him, gesturing to the team. “I’d like you to come with me.”

For a moment, there was silence.

“…What’s the catch?” Etho asked slowly.

“Catch?” Xisuma asked.

“We’re not from here.” Etho said, and Beef chuckled. “There’s always a catch.”

Xisuma shook his head slowly. “I don’t think… well… how about I just tell you what the job would entail before we decide if there’s a catch or not?”

Doc looked across the table to the others. Bdubs nodded, Beef shrugged, and Etho set down the rubix cube for the first time since he had gotten into the room. X took that as permission to continue.

“Do you remember all those stories in the news about the government funneling money into a secret project?” X asked.

“And everybody was worried that it was gonna be another war.” Bdubs said. “We remember.”

“They were building a ship for this mission. It’s been in progress for years now, but they’ve ramped up construction in the past several months. The ship will be fully built in three months, and the mission will begin no sooner than six months from now.” Xisuma stood, either ignoring or not noticing the way that the rest of the group tensed when he moved, and began to pace up and down the length of the table. “The ship- the Refuge- will exit the solar system in about one and a half years, and then it’ll be four and a half to eight and a half years til we reach Haven.”

“Haven?” Doc interjected. “That’s the planet?”

X nodded.

“Bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Bdubs asked.

X shrugged, not pausing in his pacing. “I wasn’t the one that named it.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Beef asked. “None of us have ever been to space before. Sure, Etho may have been… built for it, but…”

“You don’t have to worry about the space stuff.” X said, stopping and leaning on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “Just the landing part of the mission. The way that this is set up, there are two smaller groups within the crew as a whole- the ship crew and the colony crew. While the ship crew will transition into being a part of the colony crew once we land, the colony crew doesn’t have to be a part ship crew. It’s unnecessary, and most of the crew mates don’t have essential skills for the trip.”

“So what does the colony crew do during the flight?” Beef asked, his brow furrowed.

“Sleep.” X responded. “We have two cryogeneticists on the crew that will be maintaining and caring for frozen personnel and assets.”

“Which one would we be?” Doc asked.

X looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know whether the question was a joke or not. “Personnel… in total, if you decide to take me up on the offer, we’ll have nine people frozen out of a crew of thirty six. Most of the ship can be run mechanically, but we still need the ship crew to oversee everything.”

“And what would we be doing when we get planet-side? What’s our actual job going to be?” Bdubs asked.

“Building, scouting surrounding areas, neutralizing any potential threats, whatever needs to be done, really.” X sighed. “Unfortunately, since a mission like this has never been attempted before, I can’t tell you exactly what we’re going to need you to do. If you accept, I can give you the paperwork that runs through several potential scenarios, but… there’s a lot that we just don’t know.”

“I’m not going to ask you to sign on immediately, but I’d like your responses as soon as possible.” X concluded. “There’s a packet with the receptionist downstairs that has more information-“

“I’ll do it.” Bdubs said, cutting him off.

X blinked. “What?”

“I’ll do it.” He repeated, leaning back in his chair. “It sounds exciting, it’s a chance to travel somewhere without risking being carsick, it’s getting away from everything that’s going on here… and we’re probably not gonna get another chance at this for at least six years, right?”

X nodded.

“I can’t speak for the guys, obviously, but you’ve got one.”

“I’m in too.” Doc decided, taking his feet off the table and sitting up straight. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot for me to do here, not many people that want me here, and somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He said, pointing a vaguel accusatory finger at Bdubs, who rolled his eyes. “I still want the packet, but I’m in.”

X grinned. “Wonderful! And… I suppose, do you want to make your decision now too?” He turned his attention to Beef and Etho.

“I’ll agree… but I reserve the right to change my mind if we start getting ready and things seem off.” Etho said, picking his rubix cube back up and spinning it on its corner. “I may have been made for space travel, but they kept me grounded for a reason.”

“I agree with Etho, minus the spaceman bit.” Beef said. “Also, can we have your phone number, or some way to contact you?”

Xisuma’s grin turned into a softer, warmer smile. “Everything that you’ll need is going to be in the packets. Welcome to the team, gentlemen.”

Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:

> Open the Pilot’s File

> Open the Doctor’s File (New)

> Continue

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 5

Summary:

I once again expose myself for being into older men, and you and Woods go on your first date

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 6 | Warnings: strong language and some age difference, in case you don't like that

“Anyway, can I help you with something?”

Your friendly voice and sweet smile pull him out of his thoughts. Frank looks down at you, and instantly lets his nerves get the better of him. This was a mistake from the beginning.

He looks away, attempting to mask his insecurities with a gruff exterior, “Uh, it’s nothing. Sorry, may-”

“Oh no no, it’s fine, really! I just have to deliver these papers and then I can be right with you”, you smile encouragingly, and then… he decides to stay. More due to the fact that he feels unable to say no to you rather than by his own resolve, however.

He’ll have to watch out for that.

So he waits. There’s exactly one other chair in your office, a squat cube shaped thing sitting on the other side of your desk. Clearly this is something you own and brought in, rather than a piece of furniture that was given to you like that plain old black office chair behind your desk. The chair looks like it was brightly colored once, and smacks of something salvaged from the early 70s and dragged into the modern era. Still, it’s rather comfortable despite the faded, slightly sagging state of it.

Frank traces his fingers up and down the angular arm rest, thinking of you. You know, now that he’s had the chance to look around… There’s actually quite a few things of the past in here. He sees a bulky old camera and even a typewriter tastefully displayed amongst a few other nik naks on your shelves, both of which look like they were rolled out around the time he was just a child.

For a moment, he feels uncomfortable again and far too old to be trying something like this with you. But then, the anxiety is washed away with the musing that perhaps…. You like old things.

He can’t help but huff a laugh at that. A wishful thought on his part, maybe, and yet… not completely untrue.

“What’s so funny?”, your curious voice pulls him out of his thoughts as you suppress a small laugh of your own.

“Huh? Oh, nothing just… That camera’s gotta be older than I am”, he chuckles and points to the black box of a thing just above you. “What are you doing with a piece of junk like that anyway?”, he laughs.

You gasp in mock hurt, “It’s not junk! It works!” Suddenly you seem to grow quite excited, trotting up to retrieve the object in question. Cradling it carefully, you swing around your desk and take a seat on the hardwood, showing off your treasure, “This is a Kodak Cartridge Hawk-Eye from 1926!” You enunciate the date excitedly as though it were a relic from the dinosaur days, meanwhile all Woods can think of is that that was only a mere four years before he was born.

For a few minutes longer, you go on giving a whole info dump on all you know about the little device, wave upon wave of building excitement adding to your voice and before long, Frank finds himself being swept up in it all. No offence, but… he really doesn’t give a single fuck about the camera. But, the way it has you grinning bright as sunshine. The electric spark in your eyes. The way you give his arm a gentle touch to brace him for what you seem to think is a very riveting fact…

He would listen to you talk about that damn thing all day, just to see you like this.

Before he knows it, the lecture is over and he couldn’t be more disappointed. You shake your head, just now realizing you’ve gone off on a tangent once again. “Ugh, sorry…”, you laugh it off and go to put it away, “I just get so excited about my antiques. I love that stuff, you know? Anyway, before I go off again… What was it you wanted to see me for?”

Suddenly, Frank can feel his heart clench tight. He had almost forgotten why he came, and now… he’s wishing you would’ve too.

“Oh? Uh, why… Why did I-? Uh… Yeah, um, so-”

Damn it! He never thought he’d say this, but he’d rather be in a gunfight right now. Anything then this… juvenile, high school shit. You’ve since returned to your spot on the edge of your desk. Despite his highly suspicious stuttering, your expression remains polite and even encouraging as you wait for him to formulate a coherent sentence.

While his mind reels for some sort of excuse, anything to get him out of this situation he’s dug for himself, his nervous gaze lands on the very last thing it needs to right now. Your eyes are glittering in this afternoon light. Do you know that?, he thinks. You’ve locked eyes right back at him, but the situation is anything but awkward. He appreciates the way that you aren’t afraid of him. That you’re willing to show him patience and understanding… Like he’s a fucking human being, instead of some crazy old veteran that you’re just indulging until you can finally get rid of him.

The longer he looks back at you, the more and more he can feel the tension melting out of him. Each muscle in his body slowly but surely unclenches, allowing him to relax at last as he leans back into his seat. He can’t lie to you. You don’t deserve that.

Damn it…

Frank breaks eye contact at last. He flexes his hand gently, working out the nervous energy, as he makes a fist. “I uh… I was just wondering if, maybe… you wanted to get coffee sometime…”

Immediately he braces for… well, he’s not sure what exactly, but rejection for sure. He closes his eyes so he can’t see the disgusted face you must be making, and all the muscles he’d just set at ease jump back into bands of iron across his chest, tensed so tight, he feels like his heart might stop. It’s only been a few seconds, but it feels like years have passed when you finally respond…

“Sure! What time would work for you?”

His eyes snap open as he jerks his head around to look at you, not entirely sure he heard you right. But then… there’s that same, sunny smile and electrified eyes that tell him you mean it.

“I-I uh…”, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Woods sits up straight, fixing a strand of hair that’s strayed from its place, and grinning excitedly himself. He hasn’t felt like this in… years. “W-well what time would work for you? I’m sure as shit not doing anything”, he laughs.

You think for a moment, “Oh! Say, do you go for a run on Saturdays too?”

Pft, not lately. “Yeah! Why?”

You light up, “Great! Tell you what, let's meet up and we can go for a run together then hit that coffee shop we met at last time. Would that be alright? Could be fun!”

As though you even needed to ask, he’s already agreeing. The two of you make some more concrete plans like the wheres and whens specifically before preparing to head your separate ways. You stop him and scribble down your number on a torn sheet of paper. “Just in case”, you smile. “And hey… Loser pays”, you break out into laughter.

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles back, “Don’t think I’ll go fucking easy on you!”, he calls, half way down the hall by now as you wave him off.

When you’ve retreated out of sight, Woods takes a look around. Alone again. Good. He reaches into his pocket and gingerly retrieves the slip of paper. Over and over again he reads and re-reads the chicken scratch handwriting you’ve produced. To him, it’s wonderful.

By the time he gets to his car, he feels like he knows that number better than his own dog tag ID. He slips the precious sheet into his wallet, the first of a few select reminders of you that he’ll keep safe in there.

As the few short days go by, he waits restlessly until he can see you again. And finally… Finally, Saturday morning comes.

5:26 am, and he’s up before his alarm. He doesn’t even need to check the digital clock to see what day it is. He already knows as he jumps out of bed and races to get ready. In no time at all he meets you early at the nearby park you agreed to meet at. You’ve come prepared in your high tops, short shorts, and nylon catsuit. Stylish and modern, but thankfully not as over the top as what the fashion industry would have you in.

It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his eyes up.

“Ready?”, you stretch your arms up high, only accentuating your body as you do so.

Frank can feel himself turning red as he status out an affirmative, earning… is that a smirk? from you.

“Alright then, ready… set…”, without warning you bolt off for a head start.

“Hey!”

He wants to be mad, but… He’s just having too much fun, damn it. About half way through, it’s a fair race, and although he’s beating you it’s not by that much. Once he’s proved to himself that he’s still got it, Woods allows himself to fall back, giving you the ego boost you need to stick it out and sprint to the finish, tired as you are.

Frank trots to a stop behind you shortly, only slightly more out of breath then you are. He may have let you win, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t give him hell in the first half.

“Cheater”, you give his shoulder a light punch and a knowing look.

“Me?”, he laughs, ignoring the accusation that he would ever let someone else beat him in a competition, “What do you call that stun at the start?”

You merely laugh, wiping some sweat from your brow as you head towards the door of the coffee shop. The bell chimes as you enter and walk up to the counter together. You place your orders, and Frank pays. You wait in silence for your orders, merely taking the time to completely catch your breath.

Drinks and breakfast in hand, you sit by the large bay windows together. The sun has just peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a golden glow. A halo of light shines around you, catching every perfect curve and angle you have to offer as you grace him with your presence. The food and coffees are nearly forgotten as you both get caught up talking about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation topics turn and change like leaves in the wind, easily transitioning from one to the other as you slowly yet surely get to really know one another.

Frank is on the edge of his seat, waiting eagerly to hear what you have to say next as he talks with you. It’s the most excited he’s been to hear someone else drone on and on in his entire life. By the time you’re both feeling talked out, the sun is well on it’s way to rising and the morning dew has since evaporated.

But, it doesn’t matter. How could he ever feel time was wasted when it was spent with you?

The two of you walk back towards the park, making sure to take it slow so you can get the most out of what little time you have left together.

“And then I said, ‘Looks don't count for shit in the jungle. This is 'Nam baby!’ “

You burst out laughing, “Did you really? And then what happened!”

He grins, “Well, the- Oh, wait, we’re uh, we’re here…”

The two of you stop at the edge of the parking lot. It’s practically empty aside from your lone car only a stone’s throw away. At that, the mirth seeps from you as well as you agree.

“Well… I guess… thanks. I had fun, you know”, Frank turns to face you, hoping more than anything that you enjoyed yourself as well.

“Yeah, me too!”, that familiar little smile that he’s grown so fond of slowly makes its way back. “Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides,”, you act on a jolt of courage, stretching up on the tips of your toes to press a little kiss to his rough, stubbly cheek, “you have to tell me the rest of your story”

You lick your lip and give it a little nervous bite as you shyly take his hand in yours for comfort.. It feels huge, more like a bear paw than a human hand, compared to yours. “Well… See you later…”, you turn and begin to back away, holding his hand until you can no longer reach, forcing you to let go. You offer him one last smile, but all he can do is stand there, frozen amongst a roar of emotions.

Woods lifts a hand to his cheek, reverently caressing the spot your lips touched. The depth, breadth, and complexity of feeling circling in his mind are far too much for him to ever put into words. But, out of them all, one rings out loud and clear. He’s so, so…

Happy.

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 9

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

Tulipa gesneriana ~ Commonly called the Garden Tulip. A lovely flower with cherry red petals that is never seen cultivating by itself.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Now that we’ve had our pity party, how about I act like a proper grandmother and show you some photos.” Oma smiled and rose to grab a weathered tin and a photo album from the bookshelf. Levi felt like the couch was engulfing his form with its soft cradle. When Oma turned around she was met with his body half eaten by the overly plush material; his shoulders hunched and tea propped up against his chest as his body reclined even further inward. He looked pleasantly comfortable and stiff at the same time.

As she plopped the two memory vessels on the coffee table, Levi’s features hardened akin to the rusted box now in front of him. The foreign lettering connected in geometric shapes that he recognized but could not decipher. They left remembrance teetering on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s my father’s cigar box.” Oma explained when she noted his fixation on the object. Levi heaved himself out of the couch’s embrace and propped his elbows on his knees, still fixated on the memento.

“The writing on the side…” Levi let his sentence flit away on his breath as his brain delved deeper into the patterns.

“Writing? What makes you think its writing?” Oma pursed her lips and picked up the weathered box to give it a closer examination. “Looks more like a decorative design.”  

Oma shrugged and passed the box to Levi. It felt cold on his freshly tea-cup warmed palms. Flashbacks of loitering about the weathered guard posts, frosted cabins, and Utgard Castle drew back vivid images of the strange symbols. They sparked his curiosity enough to imprint within him, but he didn’t care enough to debate with the old woman.

It would be a memory put on hold for another time.

“I’ve seen something like it at one of the outposts on old crates of supplies and alcohol.” He stated, placing the box down in resignation.

“Hmm.” Oma gave one final acknowledgement before popping the top open. She lifted the haphazardly stacked photos out of their resting place with a gentleness that cradled each precious paper.

As she flipped through them, Levi felt like he was gaining memories of a childhood... a family ...that he never had. It was like observing someone’s entire life through a looking glass. These pictures were of Oma; of her and her husband, of her and their children, of her and you and Petra.

Levi’s brow knitted when she came to a photo of a spry, young version of herself embracing a familiar face-only with a full head of lucious locks.

“You and- Pixis ?” Levi said in exasperation and squinted at the photo as if that would make his shock dwindle.

Oma couldn’t have been much older than you; her statue was slight but her physique was robust. Her hair cascaded from her bun and softly framed her face that smiled wryly at the camera. She was arm in arm with Pixis; his eyes crinkled with happiness and hair (comically) blowing in the wind.

“Ah yes. Dot and I were both squad leaders and grew very close.” Oma sighed with a nostalgic glow. “That man truly had a way with his hands. The last time I saw him Ymir knows I couldn’t restrain myself-”

Levi inhaled his tea so furiously that it seared his throat with the same passion Oma gave off for the garrison commander. She looked on in amusement as he collected himself and cleared the assault on his lungs.

“You mean, you two-” Levi started, mentally wiping away the unwanted visual before it left a permanent stain in his cranium.

“Oh yes. As casual and dedicated as friends but as steaming as this kettle.” Oma’s youthful vigor radiated extra brightly as she reminisced.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Levi asked.

“My husband snatched me away.” She winked and continued on her trip down memory lane.

“Ah! Now that one of you is here…” Oma began excitedly as the next photo was unveiled. “You can tell me all about this one.”

“You have this photo?” Levi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he relieved the corporeal memory.

“Yup, she sent it to me for safe keepings. Said in her letter that she saw your face enough everyday that she didn’t need the photo right now.”

Levi felt the familiar feeling of his heart expanding when he set his eyes on your elegant beauty. The photo in question was taken at the last Royal Gala after everyone had swapped their military uniforms for evening wear. He always secretly wished he had more excuses to see you in a gown such as that one; the smooth fabric billowed gracefully from your hips, accentuated your curves, and pushed upward the swell of your breasts that were cradled in a lining of lavish lace trim. It would be eternally alluring to him, partially from the lavish overstimulation of the elite banquet and because it was-well- you. He remembered the insatiable feeling of the stark and sudden transition of having absolutely nothing to his name, to being flushed with an abundance of everything in that moment.

You were beaming, a brilliant smile outshining the flashy festival mask that you adorned. Levi...not so much. He gazed into the viewfinder with features hard but eyes delicate in a way that demonstrated he was putting up with your antics. The two of you were pressed into each other's sides as the decadent swirling of the wealthy framed your faces.

If you squinted closely, and looked past the grainy texture and into the background, one would be able to observe Hange swinging Moblit wildly in circles among the party-goers.

↞♞♘↠

“Why not?” You prodded, arms crossed in defiance at his rejection of your proposition.

“I’m not going to wear some gaudy mask that most likely has the sweat stains of hundreds of people on it.” Levi stated with sharp disgust. His eyes nearly rolled out of his skull when you began childishly tugging on the sleeve of his tailcoat.

That tailcoat was the precise reason why you desperately needed to get in line for this photo. It was hard enough to see Levi out of anything but his scouting uniform or his everyday combo of a long sleeved button down and trousers. Both options were easy on the eyes but tonight he looked ravishing. The tailcoat was expertly tailored and clutched the curve of his slim waist and the expanse of his toned arms close to the obsidian fabric.

He was always clean, but cleaned up -so to say-he was absolutely divine. You would never tell him this but his fox like beauty paired with the fancy dress endowed him with the grace of a prince.

“You don’t have to wear the mask! Although that would make it less fun…” You mumbled in a last ditch attempt, hoping he would take pity for you on this special occasion.

“Great now that we’ve established it’s not fun, let’s go get another drink.” He replied, unfazed and unwavered. He began turning towards the outer end of the ballroom where waiters danced with shining trays instead of partners.

“No!” You yelped, scampering as hurriedly as your heels would allow you to stand in front of him. Your chest was heaving in excitement for the extravagant evening (and by the walls was that corset tight). Your heels increased your already apparent height difference and made your very... perky breasts at eye level with his gaze. Levi coughed to rebuild his crumbling composure. He kindly reminded himself he was at a government sponsored event and that no matter how desperately he desired to let his eyes wander this was not the time and place.

“You said I look beautiful tonight, right?” You quipped with a pointed glare.

“Of course.” His lack of hesitation in his answer made the alcohol content in your blood skyrocket as you became drunk on him even more than you already had.

“Well if you would take 5 minutes to take this photo with me that’s 5 minutes until I’m willing to sneak out of here with you. Then you can see this beautiful gown on your chamber’s floor.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief akin to the iridescent pearls that were nestled into your ears.

Levi’s brow quirked in intrigue and you were a deer caught in the sly beams of his eyes.

“Fine.”

↞♞♘↠

“What a wonderful gala that was. I usually despise such events but I gotta examine you in person for the first time, no matter how brief our encounter was. I got to see my girl in such a lovely gown, and I got to absolutely feel Dot-”

“I don’t need a narrative.” Levi intercepted quickly with a sharp tinge of annoyance that sent Oma into a mess of snorts and laughter.

That strange sensation washed over him once more. The pleasantly warm bubble that made him feel like he was home but standing on the outskirts of the precipice all at once.

“Is that why we didn’t get to actually meet?” Levi trailed off as realization snapped him like a taut rubber band. While he was forced to blandly entertain the higher ups and delegates your grandmother was snogging a commander.

“Oh hush, you’re an adult, stop acting like a teenage boy.” She playfully chided with a glint in her eye that made Levi take step closer to that tempting bubbling feeling.

A gentle knock on the wood paneling caused Oma and Levi to raise their heads to meet Felicia’s gaze.

“I’m going to head home now, Frau Vogel.” She said with a tired smile as she poked her head around the living room archway.

“Damn, it really has gotten dark hasn’t it?” Oma mumbled as she took in the waning light.

“My dear, it’s much too late to be walking back by yourself. You can stay in your old room.” Her response was a medley of chastising and fondness.

“O-oh, no. I mean-how kind of you-but I don’t have a change of fresh clothes and these ones have bits of blood and schnitzel on them…” Felicia sighed with a whine. Oma was about to interject her dramatic behavior when Levi’s voice filled the space instead.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered, tone as smooth and calm as the golden liquid in his cup. He placed his cup on the saucer with a small clank and rose from the couch. Felicia bristled in bashful gratitude as he quietly padded over to the front door and began lacing his boots.

Oma gave Felicia a wink and nestled further into the couch, letting the cushions cradle her old bones and the aroma of the tea lull her into relaxation.

“The kitchen is clean, I folded all of the towels-” Felicia hurriedly explained when Levi held the door open for her.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Now off you go, I’ll come fetch you tomorrow.” Oma shooed the jittery girl out of the house with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, Felicia-” She interjected. The young woman poked her head back into the archway.

“If I hear one peep out of you about not paying you for looking after Y/N this next week I will have to start cooking the schnitzel myself.”  

Felicia gasped in betrayal as the fireflies that worshiped the porch flowers sent she and her companion off on their moonlit walk. The grit of shoes against the pebbled road took over the silence which Levi observed Felicia desperately wanted to fill. She seemed to feel pressure to speak, to offer something other than the emptiness of the countryside. Levi, on the other hand, was completely content with bathing in the blissful numbness of the cricket symphonies and the wind kisses of the path.

“How does our village compare to where you’re from?” Felicia barely overpowered the whistling of the grass with her slight tone. Her question was an innocent one. One with good intent that Levi didn’t dare spoil given the past two days of anguish.

“It’s...definitely more colorful.” He let the sweet air fill his tired lungs. He had seen a larger aurora of colors in these past 48 hours than he reckoned he had ever seen in his monochromatic existence. Going from the diluted underground to the emerald green seas and burnt brick of the walls didn’t leave much room for hue.

“So you’re from an urban area then?” Felicia continued, enthused that Levi had picked up her conversation.

“You could say that.” His reply was vague but left no room for further explanation. Truthfully, he felt as much from that festering tumor as a migratory bird feels for its winter home. It was where he was birthed, raised, existed . But he didn’t truly live until he rid his mouth of the dusted, stale air and crumbing ceilings of the underground.

Felicia’s mouth hung open with an incoming response when a screech erupted in its place. Levi grunted as she jumped sideways right into him, colliding into his sore shoulder. He just barely caught her as he staggered backwards. She stumbled against his chest before he propped her back up straight by her underarms.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asked with an irritation he couldn’t restrain. Felicia’s bodyweight had punctured his shoulder with sharp needles that disturbed the dull hum of his pain.

“Oh walls, I’m so so SO sorry sir-I MEAN LEVI!” She babbled as she floundered to eject herself from his support so as to not burden him any more.

“I-I, something moved in the bush right next to me!” Felicia’s tone wobbled just as her legs did. Levi followed her trembling gaze and prepared himself for a feral dog or a wild boar. If it was anything bigger than that, like a bear, they were absolutely fucked.

The snort that erupted from the bush elicited another shrill scream from the maid. Levi’s muscles tensed in the realization that he would have to fend off the beast with his bare hands in his absence of weapons. He brought up a protective arm in front of Felicia when a pawing in the foliage neared the paved pathway. The thick anticipation mingled with the drumming of hearts was the soundtrack to the animal moving into the lamplight.

Levi’s muscles instantly relaxed. All except his chest. It shook with candid chuckles that materialized as a small hum and blossomed into a full blown laughter.

“Hello Big Shit.” Levi’s smile was radiant against the artificial lighting as Puddle aparated out of the bushes, his form now fully visible in the dim illumination. “He must have followed us.”

“B-big shhhh?” Felicia stammered, eyes wide with embarrassment. She was too polite to finish the last word.

Then he did it again.

He laughed so freely it put the crickets to shame. Felicia pursed her lips awkwardly and smoothed her nervous hands along her apron.

“He’s Y/N’s.” Levi cooed , reaching a delicate hand out to the horse and letting him press his plush nose to his knuckles. Felicia’s jaw went slack once more. She felt like she was regarding a completely separate individual she had previously been acquainted with. His cicada shell had been discarded on the path with the others and now only tenderness enveloped the man’s being.

“He is quite terrifying.” Levi teased gently as Puddle extended his neck to nuzzle hot breaths into his cheek. Felicia flushed at her overreaction. Levi turned from the horse to her with a glow that made her swear he was a tranquil forest spirit rather than the man who was walking her home. At her shock he immediately reigned himself back in, clearing his throat and partially crawling back into his cicada skin.

“If he’s followed us this far he’ll keep walking with us.” Levi said, the brief bloom of outward happiness coming to an end.

After a few minutes of only the comets’ luminous words trickling through the sky and the occasional snort, Felicia spoke up.

“It’s nice to see you happy.” She commented bashfully.

“It’s not like I haven’t been happy before.” He huffed, unsure of where to place her heartfelt compliment among the ever turbidness of his mind.

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just-I’ve never seen you smile before.” She cringed as she said it and Levi’s snort mimicked the horse behind them. He let her observation marinade under the moonlight.

“Happiness shows itself in different ways.” He mused and the corners of her lips upturned smally at her silliness.

“I just can’t imagine what you and Y/N have to go through.” She said with the careful articulation of a confession.

“D-did you see it happen?” She asked apprehensively. The nightmare scape tore through his cornea and implanted itself as if he was seeing it vividly again.

“No.” He exhaled.

The mass of flesh reeked of steamed rotted meat in the background of your shuddering form blanketed in torn cloth and soaked in sticky blood. His feet were caught in a time loop, too slow to reach you but too fast to wrap his mind around the potential discovery of your demise. His knees burned against the fabric of his trousers as they slid on the viscous ground to you. Your eyes were open wide and even though they were looking right at him, they went right through him like he was transparent against the skyline. The titan and you shared a bed of grass but by the walls not a resting place.

“But I saw the one that did it to her.” He continued as he blinked away the flash of mental scar tissue. “Her blade was lodged into its neck and it was bleeding profusely from its eye.”

Felicia winced at his description.

“She’s grown so strong.” Her whimper got lodged in her throat.

Little lanterns perched on the exterior of modest cottages floated into existence on both sides of the road as they neared Felicia’s neighborhood.

“How long have you known Y/N and Oma?” He asked to change the conversation for the sake of both their emotional turmoil. Felicia brightened up a bit at his term for her mistress.

“Since I was very young.” She smiled the weight right off of Levi’s shoulders. “My parents worked for Oma and her husband. I became Y/N’s babysitter or sorts, and by default many times Jean’s too, then the housekeeper to make some money.”

Levi recounted her reaction to the photo of Jean earlier and decided to attempt to lighten the mood like the wispy moss that dangled over their heads.

“Jean is single.” He revealed and eyed her in muted amusement for her reaction. Felicia turned beet red, the statement adding an extra sheepish pop to her step.

“O-oh, that’s hard for me to believe.” She laughed awkwardly.

“Really?” Levi replied without a drop or sarcasm. He understood why you put up with the boy because you had been friends for so long. But he would forever wonder how mentally stable the person who would willingly date him was.

Felicia gulped as his question hung out to try on the overarching maple branches.

“W-well, I mean-he’s funny, considerate, determined-”

“Determined to keep his long face up my asshole.” Levi finished her musings, dodging a moth as it flew too close to his nose. Felicia giggled at his half-assed insult.

“Determination, no matter what the kind, is a handsome quality.”

Levi hummed at her sincere answer. Her excitement over the boy rubbed warm circles into his chest. It reminded himself of his blooming feelings for you.

“When was the last time you saw him?” He asked as Felicia led him down a left fork in the road.

“Oh, a little less than a year ago? He and Y/N don’t get to come home a lot, you know.”

Their conversation was concluded in the middle of the road when Felicia halted in front of a beige cottage.

“This is me.” Her grin pushed up the apples of her cheeks and she cheesily pointed to the home. Levi nodded once and watched as she delicately climbed up the steps, deftly avoiding the garden rocks in the darkness until she reached her porch.

“Thank you for walking me here. You’ll be okay finding your way back?” She affirmed as she turned her key into the lock. Levi nodded once more and she breathed out a timid laugh.

“Alright, good night Levi.” She smiled sweetly.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Big...um.” She turned to Puddle and wrinkled her nose.

“Shit.” Levi finished with crinkled eyes.

“Sh...shit.” She blurted and danced in place as if she had uttered a tremendous sin. Levi waited until she was halfway inside when she surprised him by returning to his presence. She paused, the light emanating from the open door allowing them to see each other clearly. She threw him a genuine smile that made him feel naked in the pale night.

“You know, you fit in really well here.”

Levi twirled the circlets of metallic promises between his fingers as he let the warmth of this evening’s reactions carry him home.

Fuck, did he just think home ?

In such a short amount of time, these gardens of tulips and those that harvest them had uprooted the numbness he had trained himself to harbor. He’d now gotten a sickeningly sweet taste of life and it was going to be hard for him to not grow addicted to it. The rings began to feel too heavy for him to carry and he placed them securely back in his pocket as he neared the estate.

With Puddle contained for the moment, he tapped his dirtied boots against the doormat and stepped into the living room. His feet sank deep into the fertilizer as he looked upon Oma. She had fallen asleep curled into the sofa, her empty tea cup cuddled into her embrace and the photo album discarded on the adjacent cushion.

He felt oddly like an intruder as he gingerly released the cup from her grasp. Felt the peculiar stab of domestic alienation when he draped the crocheted blanket over her. This was what home was supposed to resemble. Not a sullen room with a single bed and a mother called upon only to come home a wilted flower with her petals torn. Levi was knee deep in the garden soil now and he dove further and further into the dirt every passing day he spent here.

He tiptoed up the creaky steps, shed your father’s clothes in exchange for more appropriate sleepwear, and gravitated to your room. The armchair screeched dully against the flooring as he brought it closer to your bed. And he allowed himself to dream of living for once instead of just existing.

You fit in really well here.

Morning arrived on the chaotic wings of angry sparrows and a pleasant plush heat on his back. Levi groaned as he felt his back scream at him for his hunched over position. He clutched the blanket to his body as he stretched out the kinks. He rubbed the fluffy material between his fingers as he groggily recalled that he definitely didn’t go to sleep with this. As he sat up a light fluttering fell to the ground from his shoulder. Looking to the floor he noticed a note. He bent down to retrieve it and held it close to his sandy eyes.

I let you sleep in today because you need it-don’t deny it.

I’m off to get Felicia and we’re stopping by the apothecary on the way home but we shouldn’t be too long.

Here’s a blanket.

You don’t want your body to be as cold as your heart <3.

Oma

Levi rested his head on his blanket covered palm, nuzzling into the softness as he sighed in mild contentment.

“I lied-I understand how the two of you are related.” Levi whispered lightly towards you, the sounds as airy as the birds tapping at the glass.

It was another beautifully scenic day dressed in another of your father’s outfits babysitting another kettle of tea. Levi peeked out the kitchen window and wondered if everyday in this countryside was euphoric. But rather than basking in the lovely weather he opted to spend his morning tea with the one whose absence left this house just short of paradise.

He was careful to not clank the tray around as he reentered your room and spread open the curtains. However, the moment his fingers pulled the fabric apart the little winged rats announced their presence rather aggressively.

“Fuck off.” Levi threatened with a flick to the glass. His finger came back coated in dust.

"Felicia is a fucking disappointment of a cleaner."

And so the morning was spent sipping on temporary relief and gazing at the embodiment of comfort in your bed until his cup grew vacant. His chair creaked with age as he abandoned his post to refill his energy source.

Time slowed as it did two days ago and it was a miracle he avoided burning his fingers. They froze on the hot kettle as he was electrocuted by a weak gasp.

“Lee-” A desperately familiar voice with the body of a crumb murmured. He whipped around to see his most treasured blend of colors open up into his being.

Conscious.

Looking at him.

Actually at him.

The china fell from his petrified fingers and hit the rug with a bounce.

“Le-vi”