#love tearing into things raw but my parents thought i was insane as a kid for it

[dainix-suggestions]

hi dainix. on a scale from one to ten much much does tearing into a rotisserie chicken with nothing but your bare hands sound rn

I wasn't able to eat the bug I was roasting so dare I say splendid

[oncetherenowhere]

This week's been another shit show. Every week has been a shit show. I woke up at 3am, couldn't sleep, and had the realization that, for the past four months, every single week has brought me a new scrap of bad news. People dying. People getting sick. Friends leaving. Family drama, revelations. Crisis, crisis, crisis! And...really none of it has been my fault. It's just life. Bad luck of the draw.

Still. No wonder I've been having the worst few months of my life. Every single week has been a jack-in-the-box of bullshit. This week's bullshit? Revelations about my job that have tarnished it for me. I'm looking for new work. Not quitting until I get a new job...I need money. All the fulfillment and satisfaction I felt in my position has left.

I feel completely trapped in my everyday life. H thinks I should consider starting a new career, but how? Baking is the only thing I'm good at. I'm a damn good baker. My job was, like...the thing I clung to. I don't even want to say what happened, because it's complicated, but I just don't think I can do it again.

I love baking, but the environment of professional kitchens...I can't handle them anymore. I used to be able to. People say you get used to things as you get older, but the opposite seems to be true for me. I feel more sensitive than ever. I feel raw, like anything that even slightly touches me will sting. I can't put up with raised voices anymore.

H tells me to show myself kindness. I was in a heap yesterday, and he was so sweet to me. I think he's right, about the career thing. Baking feels like the only thing I'm good at, but once upon a time, I wanted to do so much...I had such big dreams. I settled into baking because I'm good at it, and I like making people happy. When I bake for people and see their reactions, it fills my heart with joy. So, I thought, hey, why not make this my career? Nothing else has panned out for me, and I seem to work best in the service of others.

H went to school for computer science. He landed a great job that he feels fine about. It isn't his passion, but he likes what he does, and it gives him enough space to work on his actual passion projects in the meantime. You should see the things this man makes...his MIND, I swear to you, it's AMAZING. He's got this amazing mixture of creativity and practicality...he breathes life into the worlds he creates. It's one of the things I first loved about him, back when we were both eighteen. He told me stories that I thought were already published, they were so good and well-rounded.

I used to be a writer. It used to be my dream. When I was a kid, I wrote every single day. I filled notebooks with stories, world building, characters...my dream was to draw comics. Remember how I wrote about how I was being bullied? I left a notebook on my desk one day by accident. My bullies read it, and humiliated me. Even the teachers made fun of me. They tore out pages from it, and the teacher there at the time threw the rest out in the trash.

I still wrote, but only in secret. Only at home, and even then, I was careful, because my parents went through my things. I went through insane measures to hide everything. At some point, it became exhausting.

A few years ago, I started writing again...but I never show anything to anyone. Except H. Sometimes.

I still have this stupid dream of making comics. I've written out scripts, ideas, plots...my art skills aren't great. I used to practice.

I've thought about getting back into it. For real. Drawing every day. Practicing anatomy, perspective, shading. I just get so sad. I imagine hoards of people tearing my work to shreds.

I know, I know. I know how this sounds. Trust me, I've viewed these feelings from more angles than I'm writing down.

I just...need something.

I might do what H did. Get my certificate in something that lets me work remote...dedicate myself to my hobbies in my free time. It would take a while to accomplish, but the time will pass anyways, right? I just don't think what I'm doing is sustainable. I keep being scared I'm too old, but I'm only 27. That's so young, in the grand scheme of things. That's what my step-dad told me a while back.

"You feel like you're spinning your wheels in the mud, don't you?" He said to me. "I felt the same way at your age. Hell, I felt the same way in my 30s. You just gotta keep at it."

It's pretty encouraging. Comforting, I guess.

Fuck. It feels so good to write here. I have nobody else to talk to. I've got H, obviously, but it isn't healthy to dump everything on your spouse constantly. I've got a therapist, who...I'm still getting comfortable with. I've got my mom, now, too...she figured out something was wrong when I went silent again. I'm glad she reached out. The two of us used to have a pretty bad relationship, but she came a long way in my 20s, and put in a lot of work to repair things. I respect that. I appreciate it. There were so many times in my teen years and early 20s when I needed her...it's nice to have her now.

Hey, that's three people! Three people, and this blog. Maybe it isn't so bad. Ugh. I think it'll all be okay. I've just got a lot of big feelings.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.7 (finale)

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.6

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford sat on the kitchen floor with his back against the cupboards, clinging to his knees, his glasses still in hand. His throat was sore and his eyes hurt and his nose was runny and his heart was raw and broken, and yet he wasn’t done crying. Though he was done sobbing and occasionally crying so hard he thought he would throw up, free-flowing tears still streamed down his face as he hid the bottom-half of his head in his beefy arms. 

“What do we do now?” He moaned.

Stan looked at the know-it-all who didn’t have a clue. He sighed and moved to sit next to him, his back against the cupboard and his knees up by his chest as he combed his mullet. “I dunno… Sit here and die?”

Ford hiccuped a cruel laugh and buried his face in his arms fully. “I wish I could.”

Stan snorted. “What’s that saying? The good die young?”

Ford groaned and started to sob again. 

Stan rubbed his back, his head against the cupboard and he looked up at the ceiling. “O-Okay, okay… Let’s think about this. So we never made up, or something else really bad happened between us, and that’s the timeline Mabel was from, right?”

“Right.” Ford gruffed, lifting his head up and rubbing his eyes dry.

“So, since that didn’t happen, or it happened differently… B-But that doesn’t mean she’s… She’ll still exist in our timeline, won’t she? She’s gonna be okay?” He asked the scientist, digging for some kind of hope.

Ford sighed and rested his cleft chin on his arms. “As long as what happened didn’t interfere with Alex’s life too much… Which I don’t know how it could… Mabel and Dipper should still be born in 1999. There’s a small possibility they’ll be different than what they once were, or because of some unseen butterfly effect, their birth might be different or might not happen at all… But…”

The eldest by fifteen minutes slipped his glasses back on, stood, and said stubbornly, “I’m going to do what I can to ensure it is a better future than what the kids had. Our entire family was broken because of what we did and didn’t do. Clearly either one of us went insane or died or something horrible, and I won’t allow that to happen.”

“I don’t think we gotta worry too much about that happening.” Stan said from down on the floor. “I mean, if Mabel changed things so much that an entire reality changed, then we don’t really gotta do much except not screw this up.”

Ford laughed and held out a hand to his twin, who gladly clasped it and stood. “You’re right.”

But the men were disheartened to finally notice the mess in the kitchen. Mabel’s cake batter sat on the flour-dusted counter, the oven was hot and ready for baking, and the muffin tray was on the floor from where Mabel dropped it. Ford looked down at the sweater he was wearing - the sweater she had knitted for him - and without a word he walked to the living room and saw Mabel’s knitting sitting on the couch where she had left it, a completed red sweater with a golden heart on it.

Ford smiled mournfully and held the sweater as Stan joined him and gasped at the sweater. The big brother held it out to the little brother and croaked, “We’ll see her again.”

Stan smiled, cleared his throat, and took off his hoodie and snagged the new sweater to slip it over his old white t-shirt. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~

July 22nd, 1980

Ford held the lantern up to better read the writing in the cave. He peered at it and was intrigued by a description of a being with answers. It would be summoned if he read out-loud, and though there were many clear warnings against this, the desperate scientist was extremely tempted.

“Sixer! Let’s move before we get caved in or some shit.” Stan called as he walked up to Ford. “What are you reading, cavemen graffiti?”

“Look, Stanley, there are tales of an all-knowing being with answers. It could help me with my theory…”

“Nope.” Stan grabbed Ford by the collar of his trenchcoat and dragged him away like dragging a child out of a toy store.

“Stanley! Let me go!”

“That shit’s got bad voodoo written all over it! You’ve gotta be inhaling toxic cave gas or something to think summoning a demon is a good idea!”

“We don’t know it’s a demon.”

“Really? Then why does that wall read in old blood ‘Do not summon demon!’?”

“Huh. Well, um…”

“That’s what I thought, now don’t make me pick you up and carry you. Let’s move.” And he lightly shoved Ford forward to lead the walk away from the cave and through the tunnels for sunlight.

~~~~~~~~~~

Alex’s wedding was wonderful and a joyous day, but it also made Ford and Stan nervous. They both agreed not to say a word to anyone (as far as Fiddleford knew, Ford had found the girl’s parents and all was over and ended well), and white they were happy to be one step closer to meeting the kids, they were slightly worried that something might be different than Mabel’s timeline.

She never told them her mother’s name. Did Alex marry someone else? Did they marry at the correct time? There was no way of telling, and they both agreed to allow themselves to enjoy the day and maybe drink a little. Or a lot. 

~~~~~~~~~~

When Shermie called and told them that Alex and Dana were going to have a baby, Ford choked on his coffee and Stan dropped the phone. They silently exchanged looks and were terrified that there was only one baby. But it was seven months before the end of August, so maybe the new parents were choosing to keep everything a surprise. Knowing Alex, that is something he would do, especially if there were twins. A beautiful surprise for his twin uncles.

So they congratulated Shermie and made him swear to call them if anything happened so they could be there. And despite their fear, they were very joyous of becoming grunkles again.

~~~~~~~~~~

August 31st, 1999

The entire week leading up to the day, the men were incredibly anxious. The birthday was on 31st, which meant Dipper and Mabel could be born at 1am on the 31st, or 11pm on the 31st. They had no way of knowing, but as long as that damn telephone stayed silent, they weren't leaving the house all weekend. Neither of them slept the night of the 30th, just in case.

Finally, a little after coffee on the 31st, the phone rang. Both Ford and Stan tackled each other and fought for it, but Stan sat on Ford and grabbed it first.

“Stanley, get off me!”

“Stanley, what are you doing to your brother?” Shermie chuckled on the other end.

“Nevermind that, Sherm!” Stan laughed. “What’s going on with you?” He asked casually, though he smiled down at Ford, who smiled back, despite still being sat on in the kitchen.

“Well, you guys know I’m gonna be a grandpa soon…”

“Really? Had no idea.” Stan said sarcastically as he stood up to get off Ford. “So? Is it happening now?!” Ford ran down the hall.

Shermie laughed. “Yup. I just got here myself and Alex and Dana got here about twenty minutes ago.”

“Piedmont Hospital, right?”

“Right.”

“We’ll be there in six hours.”

“It’s an eight hour drive!”

“I said six hours!”

“STANL-” But Stan hung up the phone.

Stan hurried up to his attic bedroom and dressed in his baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and slacks, while also grabbing a suitcase he’s had ready all week, prepared to stay as long as Alex and Dana needed him.

He ran back downstairs with suitcase in hand, with Ford by the door, and they sprinted into the Stanmobile and drove down the road.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shermie was waiting for them in the hall, beaming with joy, and his little brothers ran to him for a tackle-hug.

“Good to see you, Grandpa!”

“Congratulations, Shermie!”

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Did we miss it?!” Stan asked. “Has it happened yet?!”

Shermie grinned and nodded. “Yes, everyone is safe and fine.” And he opened the door.

The aged explorers beamed (and no, they weren’t crying) to find Alex holding one baby and Dana holding another baby. The eldest pair of twins high-sixed and cheered and then gently approached the little ones, beaming down at them.

It was like they had been holding their breath for twenty years, and now they could finally breathe.

“What are their names?” Ford asked quietly, seeing how each newborn was sleeping soundly.

“This is Mabel,” Alex introduced, giving the bundle to Stan.

“And this is Mason.” Dana said tiredly, giving her son to Ford to hold.

Stan and Ford were a bit concerned with the name change, but one look at the baby boy relaxed them. Of course a name like Dipper was a nickname.

“Matching names, huh?” Stan asked cheekily, cradling Mabel and looking down at her with shining brown eyes.

“We couldn’t help ourselves.” Alex chuckled.

Ford’s eyes were glued to Mason. While of course he had been dying to see Mabel again, he had also been excited to meet his science-loving nephew. He was so cute and small in his polydactyl hands and Ford knew it would take a lot more strength than what he had to let him go.

The author tore his eyes away to see his twin looking down at Mabel with tears in his eyes, holding her close to his heart and trying really hard to hold it together, but his joy and peace was far stronger than any bad habits that stopped him from showing his emotions. Stan lightly kissed Mabel’s cheek and Ford saw his lips barely move, though he didn’t hear what he said. Which was fine by him. Ford smiled back down at Mason, finally content.

No one heard him say it, thank Moses, but Stan couldn’t help himself. He had whispered to his niece as quiet as a mouse, “I’ve missed you, pumpkin.”

And finally, after all these years, the small hole in the boys’ hearts could be filled.

THE END!

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Hope you enjoy the chapter; please leave a comment and let me know what you think <3 

Chapter Eight

It all started with a note. 

The next they were hightailing across the damn state, all the way back to where their deep dark mess of secrets and lies had started. There was no time to stop and question why Ellie had gone back; there was no need. They already knew. The poor girl was simply looking for answers that everyone else had refused to give her. 

The closer they got; the worse their fear became. The dread pulling tighter up the throat like a noose around the neck. It was like riding towards their own execution for the terrible crime they’d committed, of robbing the whole world of something they didn’t believe they even deserved. Because they didn’t. Not at the expense of Ellie’s life. 

Even now after everything; Joel and Adaline would always agree on that. 

When they finally made it to the outskirts of the hospital; Ellie was sitting alone. The pair barely bother to halt their horses before dismounting and rushing to their daughter’s side. Joel quickly pulling her into a hug. 

“The hell were you thinkin’? Joel uttered. Taking the words right out of Ada’s mouth as she moved to join the two. “Running off in the middle of the night like that…you talk to us.” He continued. “You don’t just leave a goddamn note-“ He didn’t get to finish as Ellie pushed him away.

And Ada knew this was it. Their time had run out and now there was no going back. 

The teenager paced on unsteady feet; her hands fidgeting with her jacket sleeves before finally getting too frustrated and just pushing them back up passed her elbows. It was a common habit Ellie had picked up as she’d gotten older; they’d both noticed. Whenever Ellie was stressed, uncomfortable, nervous or upset; she would fidget with her hands. Whether it was pulling on jacket sleeves, picking at her nails or just absentmindedly running her fingertips across the now hidden bite mark on her arm. Just as Joel did with his watch. It was always fascinating to Ada how much Ellie could be like Joel without even realising it. 

Over the years; the girl had picked up a lot of the man’s mannerisms. Like father, like daughter she supposed. Unfortunately that also meant she had Joel’s temper. And it was certainly a force to be reckoned with. 

The girl continued pacing, almost not daring to look back at her parents. Her mind racing a mile a minute as she contemplated what to say. How to string her words together. The endless list of questions that plagued her for years. 

‘What happened to the Fireflies?’

‘Why had Ada and Joel lied about it for so long?’

‘Was Marlene dead?’ Ellie had a bad feeling she already knew the answer to that one; it had always been an assumption she sort of accepted, considering how loyal the leader had been to her cause. If she had threatened the young girl in any way in order to get her cure; Ellie knew for a fact her mom wouldn’t hesitate to cut her down. Or maybe Joel had killed her; it didn’t really matter now. The Fireflies were gone and so was their precious cure. 

She just needed to know why. Looking back at the rotting ruins of the Hospital; Ellie finally settled on her words before turning to face her family. 

“Tell me...what happened here.” She started with a shaken breath. Resisting the urge to pull her sleeves again as hands began to tremble once more. “If you lie to me one more time, I’m gone. You will never see me again.” She took a breath and it caught in her throat. The air thick and tense, Joel and Ada staring blankly at her with sad eyes.

“But if you tell me the truth, I’ll go back to Jackson.” She promised. “No matter what it is.” It was at that point as her parents shared a look; that Ellie realised she had no idea just what she was promising. 

Her mother took a reluctant step towards her and Ellie had to stop herself from flinching.  

“I...uh…” Ada stuttered, clearing her throat several times before trying to speak again. 

“Mom...just say it.” 

The older woman glanced back at Joel as he nodded woefully. Ada turned back to her daughter; her brown eyes welling with tears. 

“Making a vaccine...would have killed you. So we stopped them.” She said, gesturing to herself and Joel. The older man dropping his eyes to the floor as the shame flooded his face. 

Ellie’s blood ran cold. She gasped out a strangled sob that burst from her throat as it burned. She felt sick. Her chest tight and heavy. The weight pushing down so deep she couldn’t breath. How dare they?

HOW FUCKING DARE THEY?! 

Taking such a choice away from her! Taking away the chance for her immunity to mean something. To make the losses mean something. Her pain mean something. But they had decided to take her away from all that and it wasn’t fair that she’d had no say in any of it. 

She collapsed letting herself sit atop an old box, old equipment the Fireflies had left behind maybe? She didn’t fucking care anymore. She pulled at the front of her shirt in a feeble attempt to give herself room to breathe. But her chest continued to tighten. Her airway closing around the lump forming in her now dry throat. Her eyes streamed with tears, blurring her vision.  

“Oh my god…” She choked. Her hand clutching her chest as her breath became quick and short. Her stomach churned; hands and feet turning cold and numb. 

“Ellie...sweetheart…” The voice was echoed and distant. But she flinched when her mom reached out to console her. Her whole body snapping to her feet as she pulled away. Her hand lashing out to shove her back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” She snapped. Ada's lower jaw quivered as she held back her own tears. The hurt was plain and raw in her eyes looking back to Ellie. “I’ll go back, but you and me...we’re done!” She screamed, her eyes narrowing at both Joel and Ada. Ada gasped a sob of her own as she took a cautious step towards her daughter but Ellie was already backing away. “Ellie...please.” She pleaded. “Just let us explain.” The teen scoffed bitterly; she wasn’t interested in anything they had to say. Her nostrils flared in anger, her lip snarled as she shook her head in defiance. 

“I don’t fucking care! I hate-” 

“Hey! Stop! That’s enough!” Ellie's eyes darted to Joel raising his voice as he moved to stand beside his wife, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. Pulling her close as she buried her face into his side. 

“Don’t do that. You wanna hate someone for this? You hate me, okay?” He clarified and somehow the audacity of Joel only made her angrier. “Don’t put this on your mother. It ain’t her fault.” 

Again Ellie scoffed bitterly. How dare he tell her how to feel. Who to blame. They were both at fault for this. She’d trusted them and this was what they’d done?! How could she ever see them in the same way again. “Are you fucking kidding me Joel?!” 

The man sighed heavily, Ada wiping away her stray tears as she looked back at her daughter with bloodshot eyes. Joel was quiet for a second, his eyes flitting back between Ada and Ellie before he finally spoke. “I pulled the trigger, not your mom. You wanna blame anyone then you blame me. Please don’t punish her.” He uttered pathetically. His whole body seemed to sag with sadness and Ellie felt sick the longer she looked at him, she didn’t even bother dignifying his plea with an answer as she shoved passed him and headed back towards Shimmer. Not even bothering to spare them a glance as she mounted and forcefully spurred the horse into a canter and rode away back towards Jackson without another word. 

Ada and Joel watched her go. Both feeling defeated and tired.

The Texan glanced back to his wife when she slid her hand into his and squeezed gently. “You didn’t have to do that.” She whispered. “I wished you hadn’t.” Joel felt his heart ache at the broken look on her face. Her nose and eyes rubbed red from her tears, Her face slightly puffed from the lack of sleep they’d lost from riding through the night to find Ellie. He softly kissed her forehead before dropping his gaze to meet hers. 

“If she has to lose one of us...I’d rather it was me.” He said. “She needs her mother if she’s gonna get through this.” Ada sighed, collapsing against his chest as her exhaustion caught up with her. “She needs you too.” She muffled into his jacket. “We both do.” 

He ran a hand through her hair as he hugged her close. In that moment it hit him just how grateful he was for this woman in his arms. He often thought about his life before Ellie and Adaline and he didn’t like it. There had been no way of knowing how things were going to play out the way they had when they’d met in Boston, but Joel knew without a doubt he wouldn’t have changed a thing. This was a life he’d happily choose over and over. At the beginning after losing Sarah, Joel had given up on the idea of family and love. After losing her, there was no getting it back. But then they’d come barrelling into his life...literally. Ada, eager to protect the young fourteen year old from the strange man forcing his way through the door, with Ellie in toe ready to strike with her pocket knife to protect her then mother figure from harm. If anyone had told him he would then go on to marry this woman, he’d have called them insane. Now he couldn’t imagine life without her. He didn’t think he could live without her. He didn’t want to. 

He squeezed her tight as her own arms found their way around his waist squeezing back in return. 

“Don't worry about me; I ain’t going anywhere darlin’.” He looked down kissing her then let his hands run the length of her arms, taking her hands in his, walking her towards the grazing horses. “Come on, let's head home.” 

Ada didn’t reply as she followed, the two quickly climbing back on and turning towards the same path Ellie had taken. Their horses breaking into a gentle trot. They rode in silence, both afraid of the fall out that awaited them when they returned to Jackson. Tommy and Maria would want to know what happened. If they hadn’t already noticed they were gone, Joel wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. He figured Tommy would understand but he was pretty certain, he hadn’t told Maria the whole story yet. He stole a glance back towards Ada as she rode beside him. But she just looked utterly broken. Her eyes set dead ahead of them, hands gripping her reins like a vice and legs rigid from the panic she’d woken up to in the night; when they'd found Ellie had disappeared. Joel looked back at the path before them. It would be a long ride back to Jackson. He just hoped and prayed that given some time and space...maybe...hopefully; Ellie would eventually understand why they’d done what they had done. And if he was lucky she might even forgive him for it. 

[lunawritingspaceoxoxxx]

Unresponsive II

Three months

Three

Three months

Y/N thrived in the art world, their first displayed piece expressed the raw feeling of losing a love that was so exciting and heart racing and trying to manage in this bland, cold world. They glanced out towards the concrete jungle, watching people hustle and bustle around; single mothers, business men, ladies of the night, etc. They sighed, walking towards the canvas, rubbing their face as they tried to create anything from this creative funk. They knew this was coming from the trip to the falling out with Jennie, suppressing it until they couldn’t anymore, breaking down from just feeling absolute shit from just everything, they cried for their lost friendship, for Damiano, for everything that they sacrificed to get her. When they first started dating Damiano, they were in college for communications and journalism and for the most part, they enjoyed it for the most part and they thought it was going to stick for the most part and then they met Damiano. He came through like a hurricane, tearing through their world and showing them more than just their little small town as he sent pictures of places that he toured at, sending love letters and expensive jewelry.And they cherished every single one, keeping them in a small box underneath their bed, unable to stand even looking at them. Y/N rolled their neck as they pulled off their shirt, tossing it to the side as they grabbed a paint can as they stared at the blank canvas in determination.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“‘Up and coming painter,Y/N L/N, has been hospitalized at New York’s mental hospital. They’ve been experiencing vivid hallucinations and long periods of mania, breaking the glass of their high rise apartment. One theory is giving a little bit of insight to why they’re acting like this, some say she hasn’t been sleeping well or sleeping at all. They recently did a painting stream and you won’t believe this, for almost 30 hours. Some say that they didn’t move either, to eat or relieve themselves, so they potentially have an eating disorder as well.’'

Ethan scoffed as he changed the channel, tossing the remote to the side. “Lo sa ancora (Does he know yet)?” Ethan questioned as he opened a bottle of liquor, pouring himself a glass along with Thomas and Vic. “No, but he’ll probably know soon, you know he kept tabs on them. I don’t know why though, I’m pretty sure that they’re over with.” Damiano stepped through the door, looking worse for wear as he stomped through the room, taking the swing of the bottle. “Damiano….” “Just don’t. I don’t want to hear it, I know they’re in the hospital and-” “Dude, we’re just wondering if you’re okay, we don’t care about them-” Damiano stopped as he glared at Thomas, bending down in front of him. “I don’t give a shit how I feel, but you’re not going to disrespect Y/N in front of me. You can do it anywhere else, but around me.” Ethan quietly watched him as he slammed the door shut. “Maybe he’s onto something, he knows them better than us, maybe they’re nice.” Vic spoke up after a while, rubbing her neck as she felt an insane amount of guilt. She knew that Y/N knew that, and the rest of the band didn’t like them. They were so different from Damiano’s partners, none of his partners were foriegn, Y/N was an American and they did things differently than they do. “Are you okay, Vic, you look like you have an idea that none of us are going to like.” Vic was going to make this right and help these two useless lovebirds. “Pack all of your shit, we’re going to America.”

“What do you mean they’re not here? Where could they go?” The receptionist stared blankly at three before grabbing the phone. “If I knew that, I still couldn’t tell you because of HIPAA, if you don’t leave, I will call security.” They quickly stepped out of the building, disappointed as they looked at themselves. “Okay, so we’re going back home right?” Ethan looked done with everything, glaring at the paparazzi that made their way down the street. “We’re going to look for them, I’m not giving up, Damiano is close to shutting down completely and leaving the band. We owe it to him to at least help him either get back together or help him move on.” Vic realized during the ten-hour flight how well Damiano was doing much better with them in his life, they actively made sure that he was eating and remembering important small details. They were a match made in heaven and according to Vic, everyone needed someone to manage in the cruel world. “I know that they have a friend named Jennie, we just have to find where she’s at.”

“The world hasn’t been too kind to you, hasn’t it?” An older man glanced towards the backseat, frowning as he occasionally watched his child sleep. They looked exhausted and ready to throw in the towel from this brutal boxing match. He remembered them, crying into the phone, on the verge of a panic attack as they tried to form a coherent sentence and the next thing he knew, he was on a flight headed to New York. He knew that after the death of their mother, his wife, that they weren’t okay, but it was their senior year of high school and they got into a very prestigious school. They just kept going and going, no time to grieve and he was surprised that it took them so long to do so. As a father, he wanted to protect them from the outside world and yet, he couldn’t be there for them and it frustrated him so much. He pulled into a dirt road, sighing as they made their way down that familiar path. “I just want you to be happy again, just have this snarkier, larger than life attitude, and enjoy yourself. If you didn’t know, I’m proud of you and I’ll make sure that you know that for the rest of your life.”

“So you’re that Måneskin? Not going to lie, I thought Y/N was lying about him, you know? They seem a little...off the rails.” Ethan furrowed his eyebrows at Jennie as she basically walked around naked. “Is there another Måneskin band that we don’t know about? I’m getting sidetracked, where is Y/N? I know they had a breakdown and I thought in America you had to stay there for three days so?” Jennie just looked at the other woman, shrugging her shoulders as she walked into her kitchen, dancing to trashy pop music. “I really don’t know and I really don’t care, I didn’t consider Y/N as my friend. When they came to New York, I just took advantage of that, they were from the South. They came here and wanted to make all of the friends, wanting to get close with everybody and you know what? I could see them, slowly crack and not be their cheerful self and -” “God, no wonder they acted like that, they have you in their right ear, being a negative bitch and making themselves feel like shit.” Thomas spoke up as she pouted, making Ethan and Vic wear a puzzled look on their faces. “How are you making this about yourself? They’re obviously not in a good mental state, don’t make this about you.” Ethan shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as he looked around, coughing awkwardly. Jennie raised her eyebrows at them before she opened the door, pointing out. “Get the fuck out of my apartment and never come back. You’re lucky that I became friends with that hillbilly freak, no one else would ever deal with them.” Once again, they were stumped, they had no leads and they were pretty much ready to give up and call it a day. “...Vic, why are you doing this? Be honest with us, why do you feel this urge to help them? What have they done for you to help them?” “Because Damiano..has become a better person because of them, he’s been worse than this before. He would sleep around, not caring about who he hurt in the process and he was just sinking further and further. Then Y/N came along, they became friends and it took months of Damiano being called out for him to change and during that time frame, he fell in love with Y/N. ...I was jealous, he was more open with them than me. I’ve known him longer than anyone else and it was painful for me to hear him express his dreams and feelings to someone else. I wanted him to express himself with me instead of trying to act like he’s okay with whatever he was dealing with. That’s why I despised them, my jealousy got the best of me and it clouded my judgement.”

2 MONTHS LATER

Y/N watched the fields of corn as they seemed to continue on, never ending as the days went on. They were mounted on their childhood horse, Luna, as they explored the unchanging surroundings around them. Everything was the same, albeit, it really wasn’t, people passed away and some left to bigger and better things and the town that they grew up with just faded away. It was a ghost town, hardly anything stayed in town, all of the mom and pop shops shut down as the older generation retired and their children didn’t want to run a store. Y/N was lucky to have such great parents and allowed them to explore and learn everything they wanted to know. They never held that against their parents, they knew that just being the weird kid would have been sheltered because they knew how society treated children who didn’t fit into the norm. ”Whatca thinkin about?” “Nothing really, just relaxing, thinking, I don’t know what else to do, I don’t want to go back to New York quite yet. I don’t want to paint..it just reminds me of him, and losing him was the second worst pain that I've dealt with. I remember when mom died and I just pushed myself through, buried myself in my college work and...Damiano helped me decompress, I lost my rock and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to see me. His group just won Eurovision and they’re getting international attention…” Their father watched them carefully, walking next to them. “Let me ask you a question, why did you and Damiano fight? Let’s start from there.” Y/N stopped Luna as they spun around to face the older man. “We fought because I traveled all the way to Rome and got drunk for two weeks. I thought we were going to spend time together and he would take me to see his favorite places-” “Did you tell him that? Before you confronted him?” Their father gave him that same look that they loved to give. Y/N had this bad habit where they'd daydream about important conversations and not have those said conversations in real life, they looked away shamefully. “No...I didn’t” “You know men are dumb as rocks, you need to tell us everything or we won’t pick up on hints that you drop. When your mother was pregnant with you, she would constantly get mad when I didn’t do things which led her to getting a chalkboard to let me know what I needed to do. Good communication makes a relationship thrive and survive, you can’t be silent and expect him to come to you. Now, do you want with this information, there’s someone who would love to speak to you.” A car sped down the dirt path, unfamiliar with this terrain, stopping as they rushed out of the car. “How did he even..” They urged Luna to slowly make their way back inwards, nervously glancing back towards their father, he only nodded as he urged them to continue on.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for…” Damiano trailed off as he watched them slowly trotted over to him. “..How did you even find me?” “Honestly, I spent hours upon hours looking through our facetimes and I just wanted to see you...I have so much to say and I just….Ti amo e voglio essere con te(I love you and I want to be with you), I’m hurting when you are and I realized that I can’t imagine myself without you. You’ve been there when I was at my lowest and you know me so personally and I don’t want to lose you.” Damiano grasped their waist as he pulled them into his chest. “Damia-” “No, let me talk first, you were absolutely right, we should’ve talked about what we should’ve done when you visited. I was stupid to think-” Y/N covered his mouth, shaking their head, “No, I’m partially to blame as well, I didn’t communicate what I wanted and I ended up causing a scene and I embarrassed you in front of everyone and your bandmates probably hate me even more.” Damiano wasn’t even listening to what they were saying, unable to focus on anything else but them, he quickly took their face in his hands, eagerly kissing as he ran his hands along their body, gripping their hips. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, did you?” “Diavolo, no(Hell no), you’re too distracting for me to focus.” He chuckled, pulling them closer to him, smirking when they gasped. “Don’t give me that look, I’ve always wanted to sleep with my amore on their childhood bedroom, let’s make that into a reality, shall we?”

[rrickgrrimes8]

Come Clean ~ Dylan x bi!reader

*homophobia is NOT tolerated here at all so piss off if you are thanks ☺️*

This is it.

Today is the day I finally come clean about who I am. Well not fully come clean I still have to tell my parents after this which I kid you not will be a shit show. Today is the day I come out to my boyfriend Dylan.

Now I can hear you guys confused thoughts through the screen. Yes I have a boyfriend. No I am not a lesbian. No I am not straight. Now for the grand reveal... I'm bisexual. I like boys and girls and I'm insanely proud of that. You probably wouldn't think that knowing I haven't told anyone for the first 24 years of my life but I can assure you I am. I've dated girls in the past and I've dated boys. Just because I'm not out to my family and friends doesn't make me ashamed of who I am and who I like.

And the reason that I'm so scared of telling people is because I don't want to lose them. Which I know is something one I can't control and two I should assume that I would lose them if I told them but I know for sure that telling my parents wouldn't end well because let's just say they are massive homophobic assholes and I know that because when I was a freshman in highschool my mom caught me kissing my best friend who is also a girl. My mom immediately kicked her out and called for my dad. She and him were screaming hestrically. Ranting and raving all sorts of bullshit. One being 'im never going to have grandkids. Oh my god I'm never going to be a grandma' but that doesn't beat the beautiful - note the sarcasm - words of my father 'I can't believe I've raised a dyke daughter oh what a disappointment she is'. So let's just say I had a traumatic childhood. As soon as they finished there screaming I just decided it was better to tell them that I was straight and she came onto me then the truth of that I had a massive crush on her. They soon got over that and we never spoke about.

But enough about my parents the real thing I wanted to say is that I'm terrified of losing Dylan. I don't know if Dylan is like my parents - god I hope not - or if he'll support me.

We've been together for almost 3 years and you know the story. Boy meets girl. Girl spills coffee all over him causing him to get severely burned and sent to the hospital prompting girl to be incredibly sorry but boy found her hot and asked her out. You know the usual stuff.

"Hey baby you okay?" Dylan asked snapping me out of the trance I had no clue I was in. I turned to him quickly and looked upon his concerned face. "U-uh fine j-just thinking" I mumbled adjusting my position in Dylan's arms. "Thinking bout what?" He said wearing his insanely adorable smile. "Umm nothing. No one. Nothing" I stumbled over my words causing Dylan to cock his eyebrow at me.

"You sure gorgeous?" I nodded but almost instantly stopped myself. "No actually I'm not okay" I said changing my mind and suddenly finding a rush of courage. "Okay baby what's wrong?" His hand ran through my hair gently combing out the knots in there.

"W-we need to talk" I hummed. Dylan immediately stopped what he was doing and pulled his hand away. His face contorted into a look of sadness and fear. He thinks I'm going to break up with him. "A-about what?" He stuttered clearly anxious to know what I was going to say. When I pulled out of his arms and positioned myself facing him his eyes started to build up small tears but he refused to let them fall.

"A-are you b-breaking up with m-me?" His voice cracked as he spoke and his tears fell freely. "Oh my god no Dylan I'm not breaking up with you." I assured him. "But you might after I tell you this." I whispered to myself sadly and his fearful look left his beautiful face and he whipped his tears away but his face soon turned into a look of concern and worry.

"What is it baby?" He said softly moving his hand to my cheek. "U-um well I need to tell you something." "You can tell me anything" Said the man.

"Uhh well let's see um how can I- Uh I don't know how to" I rambled but was cut off by Dylan's deep chuckle. "Spit it out baby" he teased stroking my check. "I LIKE GIRLS!" I bellowed. The words slipping away from my tongue without my consent. Dylan's hand left my cheek leaving behind a cold feeling and missing of his warmth.

"Y-you like girls?" He questioned more then stated and I nodded my head closing my eyes wanting this moment to be over. He cleared his throat causing my eyes to shoot open. "W-what about me?" Dylan's voice shook slightly his fear of me breaking up with him took control.

"Oh shit" I mumbled under my breath moving onto his lap and straddling him. "I like girls a-and guys Dyl" He furrowed his eyebrows at me inquisitively. "I-I'm bisexual. Bi. The big old bisex as no one calls it" He laughed at my stupidity and I felt myself untense. His laugh calmed by of the scale anxiety filled nerves and I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding.

"So what's the big deal baby? Why are you so nervous?" His hand gently rubbed my knee in a way to comfort me. "W-well I-I was kinda scared that maybe just maybe that you'd you know" I said attempting to draw away from the subject knowing he'd just get hurt by it.

"I'd what (y/n)?" "B-break up with me" I spoke shyly and I could see Dylan's face fall. His eyes were consumed by hurt and new formed tears found there way to his cheeks. "Y-you thought I'd break up with you because you're bisexual?" I nodded sadly looking away from him. "I'm sorry" I whispered feeling a pang of guilt in my gut.

"Hey baby there's nothing to be sorry for I-if anything I'm sorry" He reassured me moving closer towards me the process. "W-why would you be sorry?" I cried my head falling down to look at my shaky hands. "Because you're upset about this and that you'd think that my feelings towards you would change if you told me"

"you're feelings haven't changed?" I said a spark of hopefulness ignited inside of me. "No of course not (y/n) I do and always will love you till the day I die. I love every part of you. I love you voice. Your laugh. Your beautiful (y/e/c). Your lips. Your sexy little butt." He joked while moving his hands to my butt squeezing lightly causing me to giggle like a school girl. "I love everything including the fact you like girls. You're sexuality doesn't change anything and I'll love you no matter what." He added igniting a huge undying smile onto my face ignoring the tears that were plastered over my red raw cheeks.

"You mean that?" I asked just wanting to make sure. "More than anything. I've loved you since the first day I met you." "But the first day I met you I put you in the hospital." Dylan laughed while taking my cheeks into his hands lovingly.

"Yes you did but I still knew that one day I'm going to marry you." I was taken aback from his confession. We'd never spoken about marriage or anything a long those lines so him saying this now is quite the shocker.

"But at las that is for another day my love. I love you (y/n). I love you forever." Dylan mummered against my lips before kissing them lightly. "I love you forever and more" you confessed causing Dylan to grin into your passionate kiss.

He loves me no matter what. I thought to myself happily. And I love him too.

[buckaroosboogara]

911 week - Day 3:

“ Whatever you do, please don’t look.” + hurt

(1600~ words, May and Athena. Tw: suicide attempt.)

@911week

May had been waiting for this day for months. 

Her ride-along with a police officer that was part of being a dispatcher at the 911 call center. 

Her mother was anything but pleased when she brought up the topic and said no without a second thought. 

But she wasn't about to give up, no. 

After all, she was a Grant through and through, both her parents' stubbornness was in her veins and she would make it, no matter what. And after weeks of negotiations, she did it. 

But she never wanted this to happen. May would have done anything to undo the day if she could. Now it was too late. 

Everything started when Maddie told her Officer Williams was outside the call center to pick her up.

Athena had requested him and his partner to give her daughter the ride-along, trusting him with one of her most precious things in the world.

She thanked the woman and looked for her jacket, her phone, and her face mask. Josh walked her to the elevator and wished her luck before she went down to the entrance floor and found the officer.

"Ready for the day Ms. Grant?" He asked and she rolled her eyes, placing her mask on her face.

"I know you since I was like 10 Matthew."

"Okay then, ready for the day, May?"

"Let's do this Officer Williams." May said, getting into the police cruiser. She fist-bumped Officer Vargas and she started her ride-along.

There were some light calls at first, some private property trespass, and noise complaints. Then some disorderly conduct and infractions and May was kind of getting bored.

But she couldn't give her mother that pleasure, so she smiled and nodded and listened to everything Williams and Vargas had to say.

They stopped to eat at a food truck and she got to chat with other officers, most of them rookies and their instructors, they told her about procedures and every single one reacted with a glow in their eyes when she told them she was Athena Grant's daughter.

She quickly learned that her mom was someone most officers spoke about, like a legend.

Then Williams got a call for mental basic life support and they got to go.

May never knew that even existed, so she asked Vargas about it.

"Well, we have to check on that person and see if they are okay or keep company if they are struggling, so they know there's at least someone there for them." He answered, and May nodded. Flashbacks of her own experiences appeared in her mind and she tried to stay focused on the present. "It's usually a family member or a friend that calls the mental health hotline and units get dispatched, maybe that's why you have never heard of it. In this case, the sister called, saying he hasn't spoken with anybody in weeks."

Five minutes later they were at the front door, the officers leaving May in the car just in case something went south.

She was on her phone when the car radio sounded with Williams' voice. "Dispatch, the 1-56 turned into a code 1-42, send an ambulance in case the person attempts suicide."

Her breath hitched.

1-42 meant suicidal basic life support.

Meant they were trying their best to keep the person from ending their life.

She didn't know when she was inside, the air hot and heavy with sobs and low voices echoing through the walls.

May took a deep breath. She could do it.

"May what are you doing here? I told you to stay in the car." Matthew's voice snapped her from her thoughts.

"I know how to help him." May pointed at the man who was holding a blade to his wrists. He looked around her age.

Officer Vargas sighed, "Fine, go ahead."

May nodded and reunited courage, she started to walk close to him but he exclaimed, "Stop! Stop right there! I don't want anybody near me!"

She stopped in her tracks and raised her hands. "It's okay. Okay."

The man nodded and some tears spilled from his eyes.

"My name is May, can I know yours?" She asked.

"T-Tony."

"That's a pretty name, Tony." May said, as calm as she could. "Tony, why don't you put that blade down and we can talk?"

"No. N-no I won't."

"Look, I know what you're going throu-"

"You lie, everyone who tells me that is lying!"

"I'm not. Look, when I was 14 I... I took lots of pills and I almost killed myself." May's voice trembled. "All I could feel was pain and I just wanted it to go away... I- I didn't think my life was worth enough to live. Like I wasn't enough. That's what you feel, right?"

Tony nodded. May could feel the officer's eyes on her back, but she was making progress, Tony's arms lowered slowly.

"I know you are at your lowest point. But there are so many things that are worth living for."

Tony scoffed "Like what? This miserable place I can barely pay for? My stupid job? The thoughts in my head that are always telling me to quit already?"

"Like your sister." May said calmly.

She remembered being in the hospital with her mom and Harry by her side. The little kid asked Athena if his sister was going to be okay and then held her hand.

'Don't leave me, big sister.' He had said.

A tear fell down her cheek in the present. "She is sick worried about you. But there's someone else worth living for."

"Who?"

"Yourself." May stepped closer to Tony. "You matter. There's no one else like you in this world, Tony. And I know there's a better place out there where you will heal and grow, and you will never feel like this anymore. I also had to learn it the hard way."

Tony seemed caught on her words, he still had hope. She made another step.

"But that will only happen if you let go of that blade and walk out of that door with me. Come on Tony."

Her cards were thrown, now it depended on the man if he would trust her or not.

The sound of the metallic blade hitting the floor made her let go of the air she was holding. She came closer to the man and held his hand.

"That's it. Okay? We are going to get through this."

Somewhere while she was talking, the firefighters and paramedics had arrived and waited quietly behind her. One of the paramedics she recognized as Hen passed her a blanket and she put it around the man's shoulders, telling reassuring words as the paramedics checked his vitals and placed him on a gurney.

Both walked outside together and she promised to visit him in the hospital later, he had a few self-made cuts that needed professional attention.

His sister was waiting for him outside and ran to check on him as soon as she saw him on the gurney. Both siblings were crying when they got into the ambulance

"Good job there May." Chimney patted her shoulder and closed the vehicle's doors before taking off.

"He's right. How are you feeling?" Bobby's voice sounded behind her. She turned around feeling her eyes puffy.

"I'm a little shaken up, but good. Thanks, Bobby." May assured.

Bobby hugged her. "By the way, here comes your mom."

"May, baby!" Athena's voice said and May grunted quietly. Bobby chuckled as he walked away to give them space. The 118 was waiting for him in the truck, ready to go.

"Hey mom," May said, ignoring the truck's honk and already thinking of the upcoming scold. 'May Rose Grant, are you insane? Disobeying the officers and walking there when there was an armed man?'

Instead, Athena rushed to hug her.

"Oh, May my baby! I'm so glad you are okay." She said, relief exuding from her voice.

May sighed and made a small smile. "I'm fine mom, I swear."

"Good, now let's get you home, it's been a hell of a da-"

It came out of nowhere.

First, there was a bang and then her mom shook. May could feel something like a knife cut through her upper arm and then she felt a sticky hot liquid on her hands, which were still on her mom's back.

There were bangs everywhere and Athena's radio went off with Officer Vargas' words, "Shots fired against the LAPD! I repeat, shots fired, 727-L-30 is down! Officer down!"

Her mom collapsed and her strength wasn't enough to keep her from falling to the ground.

"Mom!"

May took her hands from behind her back and saw they were bathed in red.

Blood.

"May. M-May, baby-" Athena made a strangled sound with her throat as she came out of the shock. She couldn't breathe.

"Mom no!" She looked at her mom feeling powerless.

All those manuals she had read and re-read, all her training, all her experience, all was worthless now because her mind was blank. She could hear muffled screams, the shots had ceased and the sirens were sounding far away.

"May, listen to me. I love you, okay? Now press on the wound and-" Athena coughed. It sounded like she was drowning and May hated it. "And whatever you do, please don’t look.”

May hesitated, "But-"

"There's no time for buts. Tell your brother that I love him. I love you both."

May tried to cipher the place of the injury with her tear-blurred vision. She found it and pressed hard, earning a yelp from Athena. She then looked at her surroundings.

She couldn't look at her mom, she was ordered not to.

"Mom please don’t die." Hot tears streamed down her eyes. Her body numb to the pain on her opened knees or her gushing arm, and when she found her voice again she used it mercilessly.

"Help! Please, help me! Someone please, I need help!" She sobbed looking up to the sunny LA skies, her throat already raw.

"Please help me!"

[a-lonely-tatertot]

Finding Home

First / Wattpad / ao3

A/n: Another one done another one done! A longer chapter than the last, and the wait was because a lot of stuff came up and i didn't have much motivation to post because i was concerned that no one really cared about this so um yeah sorry

words: 6065

Tw: mentions of injuries and blood if there's others please let me know

Chapter 7: One Hell Of an Exit

It had been three days since Dex told him Fitz left, three days since the pit in his stomach had started steadily growing. What hurt the most wasn’t Fitz actually leaving, it was the fact he told Dex instead of him. Some best friend, he thought.

Keefe sighed and sat on one of the cots in the Healing Center. Elwin’s office had become home after a year of working as his assistant. Days went by, mindless and boring; they rarely got kids. Tam and Linh’s class often had the most injuries, sending in at least a kid a day because some idiot decided to go against the rules. But they were gone now, and Alchemy instructors were finally being more careful, actually watching the kids when they had dangerous chemicals, but it left the Healing Center bare. Somedays, as he played yet another round of cards with Elwin, he wished that at least one kid would get hurt so he could do something. 

Elwin did his best trying to fill the silence, teaching him new things. But Keefe knew that worry that came off him in waves, that concern that never really left after his coma. It had gotten stronger after Fitz left, keeping a watchful eye on him. Searching for pain that was there but Keefe was just too good at hiding it. No matter how many times he told Keefe that he wasn’t Cassius, that he would always be there, the wall between Keefe’s emotions never came down. 

“We should go see the Celestial Festival,” Elwin said, startling Keefe. “It’s next week and we haven’t been out much. I do always love Orem’s lights.”

Keefe hummed in response.

“I think Biana plans on going; we talked about it the other day.” Oh. So that was Elwin’s plan. Make him talk to people again. What was the point of it? Pretend that half of their friends didn’t get the great idea to hightail it out of this hell hole to be normal people for once? To pretend that they actually knew what they were without a war to fight?

“I bet with a little persuasion you could get Dex and Marella to come,” Elwin continued. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Keefe whispered softly. Why did he agree? Keefe pretended he didn’t know, but deep down under things, he didn’t want to look at he knew he was lonely. That he missed his friends. So why not take advantage of the few who were left?

The festival lights were insane. He stood with Biana as the council stepped to the stage, her determination flew off her in waves and he marveled at how far she had come. The way she held herself, scars on full display, mouth set, she looked older than he was used to. But when she glanced at him, through the flashing lights, her eyes were playful and mysterious and Keefe almost let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t completely left and grown-up without him too. 

Dex and Marella stood at his left, Dex holding some sort of snack over Marella’s hands as she lit a small fire, letting out a whoop when it just barely toasted. Keefe grinned with them, surprised at how far the two had come with their own fears of Marella’s fire. Biana tapped his arm, gesturing to a patch of grass a little ways from them and to the blanket in her hands. From there they had the perfect view of the light show, grinning ear to ear as they appeared in the sky. None of them talked of who they wished was there, and none mentioned the last time they’d watched the lights. They avoided topics flawlessly that they knew brought too much pain and weaved their way through, making their uneventful lives seem important. Honestly, the only semi-put-together person on that blanket was Biana; unlike the rest, she always knew what she was meant for, there was a fight in her that wouldn’t settle for anything less than a better world.

The rest of them were basically just melting mallowmelt. 

Eventually, Biana had to leave, and the others ended up back at Elwin’s with a unanimous vote of we’ve-got nothing-better-to-do. They raided the kitchen and grabbed whatever snacks they could find before climbing the stairs to the roof. 

They laid there for who knows how long, staring at the stars in silence. “What do you think the others are doing?” Dex asked into the dark. 

Keefe sighed. He honestly didn’t want to know but spoke anyway. “Probably doing taxes.”

“What the fuck are taxes?” Marella asked, propping herself up on her elbow. 

Keefe chuckled, “Horrid, horrid things.” They lapsed into silence again, the only sound being the scattered animals roaming Spendor Plains. Keefe always thought the name was stupid, but he’d given up on trying to get Elwin to change it a long time ago. 

“I want to go,” Marella declared. Keefe glanced at her, but she was staring at the sky; Dex had the same puzzled expression on his face. Finally, she continued, “I’ve got nothing other than people who don’t want me here.” Her tone sounded defeated and honestly, he agreed.

“I’ll drink to that,” Dex laughed, half-heartedly raising his cup of Lushberry juice to the air in a mock toast. After his new power surfaced people stopped believing he could control it. They avoided him on the streets, they hated the fact that he worked with Elwin. It didn’t matter that he had won a war for them, the fact that his mother had started it and had turned him into something dangerous was enough. He glanced at Marella and Dex, knowing they were thinking the same.

A few minutes passed when, “Then let's go.” It was Dex this time, he had sat up, the others following suit. “They hate that we’re here. That we saved them. They hate that Sophie and Fitz left, their Golden Heroes. We’re the screw-ups that are still here. Hell, look at us. The son of a bad match, a pyrokinetic, and a fucking mystery.” Keefe grunted, he’d been called worse. “We might as well find somewhere to belong.”

Keefe clapped sarcastically but he could already feel the addicting buzz of adrenaline in his veins. “Well said, fellow outcast,” he laughed. “But if we do this we’re not leaving quietly like the others.”

Marella nodded a grin taking over her face as she stood. “Buckle up boys, we’ve got one hell of an exit to plan.”

 Around 1 am (Keefe thought it was one am, he didn’t actually know at that point), Elwin came out with a plate of snacks. Keefe didn’t have time to register what half of the things were when his attention was brought back to the sheet where he had sketched up the layout of a building—that Marella was marking exits on. Dex watched them, laying on his stomach with his chin resting on a pillow and messing with his device.

 At some point they had moved inside, spreading along the couches, their ideas scattered in a chaotic order. Keefe didn’t quite remember when Elwin said he was going to bed, too wrapped up in whatever the others were saying to him. He glanced at the clock; its ticking hands read 4 am. He smiled around the room, Marella sprawled dead to the world asleep on one couch, Dex on the other sitting in a curled ball messing with something that Keefe couldn’t see. Right then, as he sat with his back against the wall and eyes drifting, Keefe couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want to leave with.

  Keefe paced Elwin’s office like a mad man. He couldn’t sit still, not with the buzzing and churning in his gut. When Keefe would let out a heavy sigh Elwin would glance up smile lightly before going back to his work. 

“You know,” Elwin said softly, after Keefe’s fourth round of the Center, “I’m still not entirely sure what I’m going to do when you leave.” In surprise, Keefe looked up to find Elwin with watery eyes. Keefe halted and stared, shocked, to say the least. The realization of how much he meant to this man who had taken him in after everything he had done when his own father didn’t want him. He didn’t quite know what to say, he wasn’t used to this raw emotion that came off of Elwin in waves. Finally, Keefe’s face melted into a sad smile.

“You’ll be okay without me,” Keefe said, for once sincere. A beat of silence passed where Keefe could practically feel Elwin trying to think of something to say without crying. Without Keefe crying, cause Keefe really didn’t like crying. “Plus,” Keefe smiled to try and break the tension, “You and the other parents can have weekly get-togethers about how much you miss our annoying little faces!”

Elwin let out a harsh laugh, “Yeah I guess we can.” Suddenly Keefe found himself wrapped tightly in Elwin’s arms. It still took him a second to remind himself not to tense up, that it was Elwin’s way of saying “I love you.” He felt tears welling in his eyes from the thought that it was real, that he wouldn’t see Elwin for a long time. He buried his head in his father’s shoulder and fisted his hands in the back of Elwin’s shirt. 

“I’ll miss you,” Keefe said finally, willing his voice not to crack. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Elwin reassured. “We’ll be okay. You need this, and when you’re ready you’ll come back home.”

Reluctantly, Keefe pulled away, “What happened to me reassuring you?”

Elwin laughed, “We both know I’m much better at the reassuring.”

He smiled at that. Yeah, maybe he’d miss this place, but he had a whole world to rediscover. A rustle of paper coming from under the door jostled him out of his thoughts. It was from Dex, his cue to get moving. In small words it read:

“headed to the meetup point, all devices ready on schedule - TM" 

Keefe grinned and turned to Elwin, "That’s my cue! See you tonight, Dad.” He let the title slip out, Keefe had never called him that before except in his head. Before he could see Elwin’s reaction he turned and was out the door. 

Weaving his way through the deserted corridors, he found his way out of Foxfire to the courtyard, running to the leap master and hastily yelling out for Marella’s house.

He arrived to find Marella already waiting for him outside, duffles around her. “You ready?”

With a nod, they grabbed the bags and headed to the leap master, places to be. A minute passed and all three of them, Dex, Keefe, and Marella, found each other standing outside Biana’s office door. Getting in was the easy part, since Biana was gone the house was empty. 

“You ready?” this time Dex asked, Keefe was confused about why, after the night they’d had and the plan they’d put together, they’d think to back out. “After this, there’s no turning back,” Dex said, eyes drifting to Keefe and Marella.

Marella grinned, all teeth. “Come on boys, we hit the point of no return the minute we decided to leave.” Promptly, she stuck her lock picks in the hole and twisted them around until they all heard a faint click. It was Keefe’s turn to grin as Marella swung the door open and marched her way in. He followed, placing the duffles in the center of the room, Dex came after him and whistled at the flamboyant decor. 

The far wall was almost entirely glass, sun streaming in and lighting the entire room. A desk sat with trinkets and papers scattered. The wall where they entered was covered in bookcases. There was a small nook that wasn’t covered in poorly organized books. A dark wood frame surrounded a drawing that Keefe had given her; it was of the entire crew, a sort of sequel to the one he had given to Sophie all that time ago. They had been laying in her room after the twins left, a week before Fitz would too, and they had both confessed that they missed them. Sophie, Tam, Linh, how rarely the entire team would get together because they had no reason to. No war to fight, no reason they’d need to get together. Keefe thought that growing up fighting a war made them all forget how to have a simple friendship. 

Before falling asleep that night he decided to draw something to remind Biana of them. He would never forget the way Biana’s entire face lit up when he handed the painting to her. He softly smiled at the memory.

“I found the crystal!” Dex called from the other side of the room, half stuck in a drawer. “Marella, are you almost done?”

Marella, who had one foot on the seating part of the chair and the other on the back, was trying to balance on two legs of it with one circular disk in her mouth and the other in her hand, trying to place it on the ceiling. “Well I would be if Keefe would get his butt over here and actually do something!” she grunted. Tried to at least, her words came out muffled and confusing, but Keefe got the idea quick enough to grab the chair before she fell. 

“Oh my god,” Dex muttered. “I’m going to be the one making sure you two dumbasses don’t die, aren’t I?” In unison, Marella and Keefe grinned at him and he groaned. With one last little hop Marella got the device on the ceiling and planted the other on the bookshelf. Keefe placed one under Biana’s desk, and next to the door on the wall. It all hit them at the same moment as Keefe armed the last disk, and Dex drew out the letter they had written up on the roof. 

“I think I’ll miss her,” Dex said finally; Marella nodded. And finally, it felt like a bright neon sign, right in front of him, blinking bright and loud, and somehow all along he had missed it. The only reason the three of them had stayed was Biana. Keefe, who knew her as his little sister. Marella who she knew as a friend that no matter what was there. And Dex, as the person who stuck by his side when Sophie left him and waited to return the favor. Maybe it was poetry, maybe Keefe was connecting dots that weren’t supposed to connect but it made him want to laugh. 

“Yeah, me too, but we’ll see her before we leave,” Keefe reminded him a bit forcefully. If he were in that office any longer, he’d convince himself to stay. Marella took the note from him to read over again before leaving it. “Let’s go, we’ve got four more places to hit.”

Keefe didn’t wait for an answer and ended up making it to the leap master before the others. It took a few minutes, but finally, they were all there calling out for Foxfire.

It was dark, everyone had gone. Keefe didn’t quite understand how time zones worked with jumping from Biana’s house, which the sun was just then setting, and Foxfire where it was already dark with the moon high. Granted, he didn’t really try.

Foxfire, being much bigger than Biana’s office, forced them to split up. Dex took the top levels, Keefe took the middle, and Marella the ground floor. Keefe slung his bag of disks over his shoulder and made his way through the classrooms. It was slow work, finding good spots to put them in each room and through the hallways, with the bag which felt like it held a bunch of rocks.

The job went by in about an hour, even though it felt much much longer, and he finally made his way back down to the courtyard. “What took you so long?” Marella laughed as he came out rubbing his sore shoulder. “Don’t forget we’ve got more to do!”

“Yeah yeah,”  he grumbled. “You guys done here yet?”

Dex poked his head out from behind one of the trees and said, “I’ve got two more left.“

Keefe could tell that the ones in his hands were the only ones he had left from how his bag looked much lighter. "So we can mark Foxfire off the list, ey?” Marella asked.

“Only three more places to hit,” Keefe grinned.

Dex rolled his eyes, “That’s not counting the spots inside those places. It’s much more than you think.”

Keefe just laughed in response; they were so close. To being free, to running away, the thing Keefe was so good at. Running, and well, making one hell of a lasting impression. That was really their plan. 

It was a short time till they found themselves in Atlantis weaving their way through the back allies to find the shed they had left the next batch of devices at. Dex reminded them, yet again because “everything has to be perfect”, that Marella was taking the treasury building—which sounded entirely boring, which was why Keefe had opted out. Keefe would be taking the various transportation locations, and Dex the business district (also boring). Their rendezvous would be the monument of Linh, Sophie, and himself when they had saved Atlantis. Keefe remembered making some horrible joke about the monument when it was built, something about how they didn’t get his hair in all of its glory, but then, after seeing it again, all he could think of was how much he regretted that his stupid crush had gotten in the way of actually being able to get to talk with Linh. He wondered how many of the others he’d neglected ‘cause of it; he wanted to groan at how stupid he was.

“You good there, Goldie?” Marella asked.

“Why am I Goldie? You’ve got blonde hair too." 

"Okay, yeah, but my hair is more pale than gold. And plus I deserve something much cooler than ‘Goldie’." 

Keefe shook his head, "Okay, Braids.”

Marella, who had started to walk off, threw a smile over her shoulder. “Could use some work!”

“I didn’t have enough time!”

“Excuses! I expect something better when I come back!”

“Oh, so I’m getting graded?” Keefe shouted, but she was gone and he was left standing alone. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he headed to the nearest light leaper. There were about five of them across the city that only lead to other light leapers inside Atlantis. He had five devices, the smaller ones that would reach only the light leaper itself and the edges of surrounding buildings. 

In total it only took him about twenty minutes to leap to each spot, find a hidden location to hide the device, arm them, and then leap away. Marella and Dex had more to cover than him so he found himself sitting at the edge of the fountain, fiddling with the KMD, as they had ended up calling them. Dex arrived first, grinning and clearly riding an adrenaline high, with Marella in tow. “All set?” Dex asked.

Keefe stood. “Yup just as you planned, Techmaster.”

“Wait, why does he get a cool name?” Marella gasped.

“I like him more,” Keefe deadpanned. Dex smiled and did his best to look innocent (which he was really good at for some reason) and Marella rolled her eyes.

“Don’t just stand around; we’ve got places to be!” Dex called, already headed for the whirlpool.

With a chuckle, he and Marella followed. Mysterium was next, in Keefe’s opinion the most boring of their stops but the way that Dex’s face lit up when he spotted Slurps and Burps whirling and glittering in the distance made it worth it. Dex beamed with something like pride and it was infectious. Keefe shook his head slightly, at how easy it was for him to grin, at Dex’s face that was entirely dorky, and at Marella who smiled somewhat mischievously as she placed her devices. It was quick and easy work placing the devices while Dex dropped off the letter—almost identical to the one they had left Biana—at Slurps and Burps. They waited as Dex made his way back to them and practically ran when they could see him. There wasn’t as much time left as they had hoped; the sun was supposed to rise in about two hours, leaving them barely enough time to cover all of Eternalia. Keefe reached the leaper expecting the others to be on his tail when he turned around, but they weren’t. 

His eyes scanned fervently and finally found Marella and Dex standing off to the side, staring back at the Slurps and Burps. Keefe wanted to laugh at the scene if it wasn’t so serious. Marella, stoney, sarcastic, quick-witted Marella, had her arm over Dex’s shoulders like she was pulling him in for a hug. Keefe raised an eyebrow at her when their eyes locked over Dex’s shoulder and her face turned hard. Speak of this and I will kill you, was the message Keefe read loud and clear.

After what seemed like ages, the pair made it to the leap master seemingly still emotionally intact and Dex with a new determined look in his eyes. As Keefe called out for Eternalia he couldn’t help but feel a new rush of adrenaline crash over him.

Now to tackle Eternalia it relied on many moving parts. Part I, the councillors homes. Each of them had two disks, set to cover a larger distance, and needed to place one in between every two towers. Keefe, along with his two devices, also was in charge of the KMD, which was to be placed on Alina’s tower. When they were still scheming Alina’s tower was the obvious choice of who they’d want to annoy the most. Alina’s surprisingly wasn’t the hardest to find, of course, being the most glittery and the most bright even in the dark. Just as he placed it he saw three flashes in the distance, Marella’s signal, marking her to finish first. Once the device was placed Keefe sprinted to his last spot when- CRASH!

He sprawled on the ground, head aching and pain shooting up his arms. Fuck, he thought eloquently. Curses slipped from his mouth as he tried to stand. He managed to pull himself to his knees to determine just how screwed he was. He had rough spots on his palms that were bound to bruise, a huge scrape down his arm, a busted lip from the way he could taste copper in his mouth, and from how much his head ached, he had probably cut his head too. His legs were probably worse; luckily, he couldn’t actually see the extent of his injuries because of his pants (and from the pain he could feel he honestly didn’t want to see it). 

He was fine. This was fine. He would just push past the pain and get himself through downtown than he could figure it out. It was just a fall. A fucking painful fall, his brain supplied unhelpfully. He saw three green flashes in the distance and cursed again. Dex was gone too.

He needed to get moving, and he needed to get moving fast. Keefe grunted, took a few breathes, and managed to get his feet. It was a bit harder to leap with an injury but he managed, and after placing his last device, he found himself in downtown. 

Dex saw him first, delight turned to concern turned to worry until he was rushing to him. “Why are you bleeding? Why are you beat up? I leave you alone for five freaking seconds-" 

"What happened?” Marella came up behind him with more annoyance than concern on her face.

“Well, I was going to explain to Gears over here-”

“Gears? Really?”

“-but I don’t think he knows how to keep quiet,” Keefe finished. 

“Start talking, now." 

Keefe sighed, "I fell.”

Marella stared at him, “You fell, and did this?”

“It was a very mean rock!”

“Oh, my Ancients-” Marella breathed clearly trying not to laugh.

“You’re benched. we’ve only got a few more left anyway,” Dex said, still eyeing his injuries. Keefe honestly didn’t have it in him to argue. Though it didn’t stop him from snatching the other KMD from the bag next to him and securing it to the ground with only a few winces. 

He watch as Dex and Marella placed the last couple of devices. They were clearly talking about something urgent, and from the way, Dex kept on glancing his way, it was probably about Keefe, but he wasn’t close enough to hear and honestly, it was getting on his nerves. What was so important they couldn’t tell it to his face? Probably something you won't like, Keefe thought. He wasn’t always the best at taking bad news, though he didn’t think he was as bad as Fitzy used to be.

“We’re gonna have to jump back to your house before we can set everything off,” Marella stated. 

Keefe balked. “We don’t have time for that!”

She threw up her hands, “Well you went and got yourself hurt and we don’t exactly have another choice.”

“I am fine,” Keefe said, trying to hide the wince that came.

Dex rolled his eyes, “It’s a short pit stop, come on. We’re all done here; a few minutes won’t hurt the schedule.”

Keefe wanted to argue that it would hurt the schedule because the schedule was flawless and nothing mattered more than the schedule. Unfortunately, he knew that neither of them would actually listen to him. 

Admittedly, when it was all done, getting Keefe patched up with the cloth they found and cleaning off the blood took a lot less time than he initially thought. They had found Elwin’s stash of pain killer serums and as soon as Keefe took them he ordered them to get moving. “We’ve got places to be and things to set off!”

“Lead the way, dude,” Dex huffed. After the war, Forkle had ended up showing the rest of the Black Swan members where his office was—with a heavy, heavy swear to never show the council where it was. The best part about Forkle retiring: they could use the dusty office as a great spot to see pranks. That was probably not Forkle’s intent but who could really stop them?

Stepping into the weird round office (what had Sophie said it resembled? A hobbit hole? Keefe put that on the list as a first order of business to figure out when they got to the Forbidden Cities), it was like nothing had changed. TV’s still lined the wall, and the desk in the center had scattered papers from who knows how long ago. From his memory, Sophie was the last person here, she had watched right before she left, she spent almost a whole day just watching. In Keefe’s opinion, it was kind of creepy but it was probably something sentimental to her. It had been a year since then and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. 

They set to work, setting up, connecting cables, dusting (not something Keefe thought this would entail). Their list was made quick work of and soon they were all set up and staring at the screens. People moved like nothing was going to happen, they moved in a trance of things to do and places to be and not a care for the world around them. Keefe remembered a long time ago, Alden saying that elves loved their work, but as he watched people go they didn’t all seem to love it. Their lives were a dull continuous day after day after day with nothing to want and nothing different. Keefe grinned, oh how they would change that. They all held separate controllers, all for different things.

With a nod, Marella started to count down. “Three. Two. One.” She pressed her button and the disks went off. Pink goop (Keefe got the idea from bubble gum, something he had been a tad bit addicted to in his time away) covered everywhere. Luckily, the cameras were high enough that their view wasn’t blocked, because the view from above was amazing. People shouted and left their shops, watching as the mass overtook everywhere. No one was actually in danger, anyone stuck would be just a tad bit uncomfortable but still safe. Dex let out a breathless laugh, “It worked, oh my Ancients it worked!" 

Marella let out a whoop and he couldn’t help but be caught in the crashing wave of her joy. But they weren’t done yet; there was still more to do.

They waited in anxious excitement for the panic to die down before they could release Wave 2. Finally, it was time and Keefe pushed his remote to see glitter fill the air and Biana’s infamous quote light the sky. ”' Sparkles make everything better,’“ Keefe said as he watched the shimmering rain. "That they do, that they do.”

Dex giggled as he pushed his button, releasing the KMD. Keefe was fairly proud of his odd combination of their initials, but it worked well. Keefe’s pink faded into Marella’s orange into Dex’s green in a shimmering rain that morphed into “The Outsiders”, as Dex had called them the night before. 

Keefe swelled with pride, “Now that is something sixteen-year-old me would be hella proud of.”

Marella nodded, “We did something amazing here today, boys.”

“That we did." 

That afternoon, moments before sunset, Dex, Marella, Keefe, Biana, and Elwin stood on the hill behind Elwin’s house. No one knew what to say, no one knew where to start. Honestly, Keefe thought that the only thing keeping Elwin from crying was his silence.

"Really,” Biana spoke startling them all. “You had to use the 'Sparkles make everything better'?”

Marella barked out a laugh. “Hey, we knew it would get your attention,” Dex said.

Biana raised her eyebrow, “Oh, really? Because the giant blob of pink goop in my office and everywhere else wouldn’t?”

“Wellll- it was a fun addition,” Keefe said.

Biana smiled softly, “I’m going to miss you guys.” Keefe couldn’t stop himself anymore and he pulled her into a hug.

“We’ll be back. I promise.”

“You better be, asshole; I can’t fix everything on my own,” Biana whispered into his shoulder.

“And you don’t have to,” Keefe whispered back. If anything, he wanted her to know that before they left. She nodded slowly. 

Keefe felt Dex and Marella join the hug, and eventually so did Elwin and it felt so final that Keefe had to remind himself again and again that it wasn’t; that he’d be back. 

Finally, they pull away, everyone with teary eyes. “If any one of you gets hurt you are calling me immediately, got it?” Elwin stated, point his finger at them.

Dex snorted, “I don’t think it works like that.”

“I do not care, I am not letting anyone of you get hurt by that place,” Elwin said, almost glaring at them. “Are you kidding? The amount of work I’m going to have to go through, detoxing you after you’re exposed to all those-” he waved his hands excessively, “pollutions!”

“Yes sir,” Keefe said as he mock-soluted him.

“We should probably get going,” Marella elbowed him, checking her watch. “Bi? Watch my mom, will you?”

Biana smiled, “Of course.”

Dex gulped, “And watch the triplets for me? And Elwin, talk to my parents? They’ll be mad I didn’t tell them but I just couldn’t say goodbye to them.”

Elwin and Biana nodded. Keefe raised his leaping crystal, “I love you guys.” The beam opened up and before he could bite his tongue, “I love you, Dad.” He stepped through, not even looking to see Elwin’s response.

Marella and Dex met him on the other side, both giving him quizzical looks. “You really just called him Dad for the first time and then ran away for who knows how long?” Dex asked.

“Yup!”

“I thought that impulsive phase was over,” Marella said.

“I'm sorry what have the past two days been?" 

"We don’t talk about that." 

Keefe grinned, "Okay Techmaster, lead the way.” And they were off a clean slate, a fresh beginning.

They had rigged up a computer, a shitty web camera, and a stand duct-taped together in the middle of their small Sydney apartment. Dex stood behind, still messing with the settings as Keefe was trying to fix the crappy white sheet they had hung behind them. “I think it’s fine,” Marella chuckled.

  “Oh suree tell the guy who actually can speak to the tech how it works,” Dex said, rolling his eyes and pressing a few more buttons. Marella moved her fingers around her temple and mouthed, “Crazy” and Keefe found that he couldn’t stop himself from snorting. 

“You know I can see you right.”

“Yup!” Marella and Keefe said in unison, giving in to another round of giggles.

Dex shook his head, “Well, we’re all set up.” For a millisecond Keefe could tell just how nervous Marella was in the way that her eyes darted, trying to make sure everything was holding steady, how her hands silently snapped to some imaginary song. It came off her in waves, though her excitement accompanied it. 

“Okay, you guys ready?” Dex asked. 

Keefe nodded. “Okay, three,” Dex held up three fingers. Two. One. He pointed at them. 

The first round ended prematurely in a fit of giggles. The second with Marella staring blankly, the third with Keefe singing some random song he had heard on the radio because who knew what he was supposed to say? Certainly not him!

It took more tries than Keefe could count and well after the sun went down before they finally had an acceptable intro (they also managed to drag Dex into the actual camera view which was secretly Marella and Keefe’s main goal). 

It took only two days to edit on top of the jobs that they had managed to find. Eventually, they were all standing in front of the computer anxiously watching Dex press the upload button.

“You know,” Dex said, “it’s not going to make any difference with you standing right there.”

“We are witnessing history in the making; we cannot miss out on that!” Keefe yelled dramatically,  met with an exaggerated eye roll. 

It all seemed too simple to be called a beginning, just a click of a button, and they were alive somewhere among the firing code in this vast world.

They were all lounging on the couch when it came. The doorbell rang, and no one moved, except the cat. Dex was too wrapped in his current school project that had to do with writing something that was way above Keefe’s amount of brain cell. Curled on the couch, Marella had her headphones in, editing their newest video that had them trying to paint a posing Dex with their fingers. This ended into chaos which was a surprise to no one. Keefe grinned at the memory as he tried to lure out their new cat that had decide to bolt under the sofa the moment the bell rang. “Come here Marty Jr.,” Keefe cooed.

Marella pulled out one earbud, “Did we really have to name her Marty Jr.?”

“If I recall correctly you didn’t have a better idea at the time,” Keefe retorted.

“I did!” Dex called.

“For the last time, we are not naming her after some weird chemical!”

“Pneumonia is a perfectly reasonable name!”

“Wait,” Marella said, “isn’t that a lung disease?”

“I thought it was some poisonous gas thing?” Keefe said. 

Dex groaned, “Why must I be the only intelligent person here?”

“Look is someone going to get the door? It could be pizza,” Marella said. Keefe groaned and gave up trying to get the cat out from under the couch, going to answer the door. 

No one was outside on the balcony, no one was in the courtyard except for the neighbor's kids. But there was pizza on the ground, still in the box, and it smelt like heaven. On top of the box was an envelop. “Did either of you order a mysterious pizza and a suspicious-looking envelope?” Keefe called out, carrying the box into the house.

“No?” Dex said, his face twisted in confusion. 

“Well, looks like we got a surprise then.”

Marella came up behind him, Marty Jr. sitting comfortably in her arms, “What’s in the envelope?”

“Just a letter,” Keefe said. It was a letter, but when he unfolded it, it held a handwriting he would never mistake. Biana’s. “What the-” Keefe started but Marella snatched the paper out of his hands. 

“She wants to meet us,” Marella whispered. 

“Where?" 

"In some cabin in the US.”

Keefe groaned, “Crap, we don’t have that kinda money without it being sponsored.”

Dex grinned holding up the discarded envelope, “She already thought of that.” He pulled out three plane tickets. 

Keefe grinned, “Well, I guess we’re going to America.”

[ahgaseda]

two can keep a secret || chapter 05

⇥ synopsis : when your father reveals his intention to remarry, you find an unlikely confidant in Mark, your soon-to-be stepbrother, but what began as a revenge fling ironically becomes far more complicated...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Mark decided to distance himself from you. Yes, he loved the sex. No, he didn't like the feelings that came with it.

The pussy is just too good, he told himself on more than one occasion.

Joke was on him, because you decided to distance yourself from Mark Tuan.

Any other time you would have been thrilled not having to deal with a period. Then you thought about all the unprotected sex you'd been having and panic set in.

In exchange for swearing to be exclusive to each other, you didn’t make Mark wear condoms, which he obviously appreciated. Birth control pills were reliable, but they could only do so much when you were milking every drop out of him on the regular.

You avoided Mark. He would react negatively to a pregnancy scare and you couldn't handle that on top of everything else.

Mark noticed how you cleared the house before he woke. Classes had started again and you gave every excuse to stay at the university or with your friends. You were short in your replies to his texts, rarely even answering when he sent you his usual dose of memes that he found.

Twice he called and you sent him to voicemail. And that was unheard of.

Mark realized you were giving him the cold shoulder and it drove him insane.

It was all well and good when he pushed you away, knowing it was due to the feelings he was growing for you. But why in the hell were you avoiding him? You didn’t have feelings for him. At least he thought. Did he do something wrong? Had he hurt you?

Mark felt a hole taking up residence in his chest, eating him alive from the inside.

Usually after his last class, Mark charged out the door to reunite with his gaming computer at the speed of light, but today he lingered, knowing you would come out of your lab in ten or so minutes.

He hated ambushing you. Everything told him to appear callous and cold, but he couldn’t stand the thought of having wronged you in some way. Were you bored with him? Were you over the sex? If that were the case, you could still hang out with him. Mark missed your company.

With a shake of his head, Mark chastised himself, Stop getting attached.

You appeared around the corner, binder held between your overlapped arms and a backpack heavy with books slung over your shoulder. Mark wanted to reach out and grab the strap to carry the load for you.

At first, you didn’t see him. Not in the sea of fellow college students filling the hallway. Then, Mark stepped out and your eyes met.

"Hello,” said your future stepbrother.

A lump appeared in your throat. "Hi."

Mark tilted his head, raising a brow. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

You never thought Mark would have a problem with your distance, but here you were on the spot, having to give him a reason for how intently you had been avoiding him. Rather than lie, you panicked and blurted, "My period is late."

Mark’s eyes widened. That was the last thing on earth he thought you would say. "Oh..."

"Yeah."

Mark swallowed. His brain overloaded with what those words meant and then promptly shut down. "What do we do?"

You gaped. "We?"

Mark grabbed your arm gently and led you around the corner with him for more privacy. In hushed tones, he said, "Obviously I'm the father."

"Duh,” you retorted.

He pressed, "Well?"

Well, what? You had no idea. It was damn well possible you were carrying his baby, but you couldn’t think about that - much less acknowledge it. So instead you rambled and gave excuses, "It could just be stress. I have a lot of classes this semester so I can graduate on time."

Mark seemed worried when he asked, "Have you been to the doctor?"

Biting your lip, you studied his face. Mark looked genuinely concerned for your well-being, which didn’t come as much of a surprise. Though he tried to hide his feelings, you knew Mark cared. It was more than evident with how he treated you and protected you every chance he got. Many things he did were borderline subconscious.

Walking down the street together, he always made sure he was between you and the road. Regardless of who was around, he always opened and closed doors for you. When that guy at the party got a little too handsy, Mark almost ripped his jaw off.

Snapping out of your reverie, you murmured under your breath. "I haven't gotten a test yet."

He groaned your name in reproach.

Putting off getting a test was stupid, you knew that and he knew that and most of the sexually active world knew that.

"I'm scared, Mark,” you finally said, voice soft and shaking.

Mark wanted nothing more to reach out and touch you, comfort you, but he resisted.

Fighting back your tears, you squeezed the binder in your arms a little tighter and continued, “I can’t be seen getting a pregnancy test. It’s a small fucking world and I have horrible luck.”

Mark glanced up at you through his disheveled brown hair and the next thing you knew, you were in the passenger seat of his darkly-tinted SUV, sitting outside a pharmacy.

Mark’s mother went to great lengths to spoil her son. Cars included. She gave him whatever he wanted - so she wouldn’t have to deal with him. Mark was well aware of that and milked it for all he could.

Mark scanned the tests, grabbing the most expensive ones, because from what his mother told him price and quality were correlated. Just to be safe, Mark grabbed another box of a different brand. Then another.

At the counter, the guy who looked barely out of high school gave the boxes a scrutinizing glance. Mark leveled his eyes at him, as if daring the kid to make a smartass comment and was tempted to buy a carton of cigarettes. For fuck’s sake, did he really knock up his soon to be stepsister?

Well, that would certainly derail the wedding.

As the kid rang up the tests, he said, “Plan B pills, dude. They’re a fucking lifesaver.”

Mark let out a scoff, knowing it was probably too late for that if your cycle was already missing in action. “How well do they work when she’s been on the pill for years and you been raw-dogging for months and the period still late?”

“Well, shit,” said the cashier, eyes wide. “The universe really wants you to go forth and multiply, I guess. Or you’re both just fertile as fuck."

Mark snorted. This random ass dude had almost gotten a laugh out of him.

You sat slouched in the passenger seat, trying to hide your face in shame despite the tinted windows. Feet propped on the dash, you chewed randomly at your fingernails, chipping the polish.

Mark’s mother had already said she wanted you as her maid of honor. How in the hell would you be able to walk down the aisle arm-in-arm with Mark at your parents’ wedding carrying her son’s baby inside you?

Mark opened the door and hopped behind the wheel, saying nothing as he dropped the bag in your lap.

You barely moved, letting it slide to the floor between your legs.

Mark noticed, turning to look at you with his hand draped on the wheel. “Talk to me,” he finally said.

You snapped, “Do you always drive around like some kind of drug dealer?”

Mark rolled his eyes, sensing you were on the verge of combustion and humor helped alleviate your fear. “You said you didn’t want to be seen, remember?”

You covered your face with both hands and choked out, “What am I gonna do?”

Mark’s heart sank that you left him out of the equation. Did you really think he would leave you on your own with a baby - his baby? Sure, kids hadn’t been on his mind even remotely in the future, but still, if you were carrying a baby, it was because the two of you had made it together. Regardless of how you felt at the moment, Mark was damn sure going to be involved in his child’s life.

“You’re gonna calm down,” he asserted, taking your hand and squeezing. “You haven’t even taken a test yet.”

You rubbed your brow were a headache had started. “Mark, birth control pills literally regulate my cycle. There’s no way I would skip a period unless…”

“You’re stressed,” Mark interjected. “Our parents are getting married and we hate that more than anything. You’re taking the max amount of credits and hate your degree because your father would never let you major in what you actually want to major in. And you’ve been actively fucking your future stepbrother.”

You groaned, “Gee, is that all?”

Mark stroked his hand over your fingers, trying desperately to provide some comfort. “Will you look at me please?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation.

He frowned. “Why not?”

Because I’ll cry, you thought bitterly. Because I will fall to pieces in your arms and I don’t know if you actually give a shit about me or if I’m just the girl you fuck. Slowly, you turned to face him, cheeks hot with tears.

Mark finally gave in. He couldn’t imagine what you were feeling; the nerves, the uncertainty. Reaching over, he rubbed his thumb through your tears.

“I really don’t know what you need to hear right now, baby,” he started tenderly. “But you are not alone in this. You understand me?”

You nodded and the faintest smile graced your lips. “Yes.”

Mark pulled away. It didn’t feel right to kiss you, all things considered, but damn it, you wished he had.

The ride home was silent, eerily so. Your heart was racing and your body trembling. The boxes on the floor beneath your feet were about to decide the rest of your life. Mark occasionally glanced at you, and though he said nothing else, he never let go of your hand.

When the car pulled into the driveway, your heart sank. There sat the familiar BMW. Mark’s mother was home.

Without a word, Mark came around to your side and opened the door. He grabbed the bag and stuffed it into his backpack, shutting the car door behind you once you had gotten out.

“Go to your bathroom. I’ll meet you there in a minute,” he whispered.

You sighed, “How is your brain still working right now?”

“I’m making myself useful,” he quipped.

You thanked the heavens that your future stepmother was busy ranting about the wedding decorations to some poor soul on the phone. She gave you a quick wave of her hand, which you returned before sprinting up the stairs to the safety of your room.

Mark was only a few minutes behind you. He opened your bathroom door, handed you the bag, and whispered, “Do you want me to wait with you?”

You peered up at him with glassy eyes. “Please.”

He nodded. “Okay, just let me know when you’re done.”

It didn't take you long. The two of you sat on the bathroom tiles side by side. The trio of sticks perched unassumingly on the counter though you stared at them as if they were judge, jury, and executioner. Mark draped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you close, and when the anticipation became too much, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

It felt like an eternity spent in that bathroom with Mark, sitting there in silence. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, though maybe a little faster than normal. You opened your eyes, wanting to apologize, but you bit your tongue.

The timer on his phone went off and Mark was quick to rise, squeezing your hand as he did. He peered at the three tests on the counter and exclaimed, “They’re negative!”

Your response was quiet. “Are you sure?”

“All of them.”

You exhaled heavily.

Mark picked you up off the floor and kissed your cheek. “See I told you. It’s stress, babe.”

You offered a brief smile and Mark chalked it up to shock. “You’re right,” was all you said.

Mark gave you one last chaste kiss and slipped out the door, making some comment about celebrating later. For a moment, you watched the door, ensuring he didn’t burst back in.

Then you turned, glaring down at the three tests. The ones you had run under the water in the sink. After a moment or two of nausea, you crouched down and opened the cabinet where three more tests were hidden. The ones actually stained with your urine.

That was when you sank helplessly to the floor before emptying your stomach into the toilet.

All three were positive.

You were pregnant.

chapter 04 ⇤ chapter 05 ⇥ chapter 06

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[msladyrosa]

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

[bisexualsforprompto]

Of Roommates and Red Heroes Chapter 4

Quick note: I had to change Mari’s hero names for logistical reasons, it’s now Lady Pegasus

Ao3

One            Previous

Of Nightmares and Thanksgiving Dinner

The bakery was on fire. Hawkmoth stood in front, laughing hysterically as the bakery, her parents, her livelihood, burned to the ground. He relished his triumph a moment longer before bolting at the sign of Ladybug’s furious face.

Marinette let the tears flow as she ran to the bakery, which was mere ash. She tossed the brick and mortar, ‘ please’ she cried. She dug her fingers through the ash until they were as black as charcoal. Yet there was no sign of her parent’s remains. Marinette sobbed, she couldn’t control her hands anymore, they kept digging until they were raw, calloused and bloody. Then she wept, when she saw what lay underneath.

A man, muscular, not overly tall, black hair with a white streak, blue eyes glazed over, and mouth curved into a viscous smile lay dead on the ground.

“Jason!!!” Marinette screamed as she tried to shake him awake, “No, no, no, this isn’t happening!”

His eyes, still glazed had humor in them, “If you couldn’t save me, who are you kidding? Even master Fu didn’t trust you, he sent you to Gotham because he knew you couldn’t do it.” He laughed, “Guess he was right.”

Marinette keeled over, “No, god no. Please, wake up. Wake up,

“WAKE UP! Mari wake up!” Jason screamed to a screaming Marinette who’d fallen asleep on his arm watching the Macy’s parade

~•Thursday, Nov. 28, 5pm EST•~•

Marinette shot up, “Wh-what?” She said dazed, she couldn’t tell dream from reality, she could still almost feel the burning sensation on her fingers from touching hot rubble.

“Buttercup, I get that you don’t wanna talk. Trust me, nobody gets it more than me, but you know what else I know?” Jason asked firmly, “You can’t just leave things pent up, because then it’s going to spill out and you’ll do something you’ll never forgive yourself for.” Something that could probably get her killed, Jason added silently. He couldn’t lose her, not when they’d just found each other. He knew what she was feeling, he could practically live her anguish just from the blood curdling screams she’d emitted from her dream.

“I- I- I just can’t. Not yet,” Marinette sighed putting her hand on her elbow and turning away. Jason put his arm around her and spun her to face him on the couch. He looked at her, he saw the tears welling in her eyes. He stood up suddenly and gave her what she needed, a hug.

That’s when it all poured out, she cried, she cried for what felt like hours. She clung onto Jason tightly, like a child with her teddy bear. She wanted more, she knew she was high on emotion, but she felt the urge to kiss Jason. Kiss him till all the feelings went away.

‘ Pull yourself together Marinette! Jason is your roommate, not your lover! Ladybug doesn’t cry anyway!’ She told herself, she pulled away from Jason, the tears had disappeared, what was left was a cold stare.

Jason knew it all too well, she was trying to keep her emotions in check.

“Butterc-“

“We should get ready for the dinner,” Marinette stated plainly going to the kitchen.

Jason sighed and followed her, she wouldn’t talk, she wouldn’t allow herself to feel but goddammit, Jason would cheer her up.

“So Buttercup, you excited to meet my friends?” Marinette gave a small smile, Jason mentally high fived himself.

“Yeah, from what you’ve said they seem great!” Her face grew to her regular permanent smile, entrancing as always, the only thing Jason wasn’t fond of was her puffy red eyes. “Kor’i and Dick will love you, they’ll probably adopt you on the spot.”

That earned a chuckle from the bluenette, “I can’t wait.”

~•Thursday, Nov. 28, 6pm EST•~•

Jason heard a rap on the door as Marinette took set the pie on the table decorated in white tablecloth. Her traditional pigtails were intact but she had changed into black slacks and a button up shirt with her signature black jacket. Jason pulled open the door to see Roy, Kor’i and Dick.

“Nice to see you Jason!” Kor’i exclaimed wrapping him into a hug. Roy smirked and walked in along with Dick. Marinette walked over to the guests extending a hand, “Hi, I’m Marinette, Jason’s roommate.”

“Nice to meet you!” Dick smiled charmingly while shaking her hand and returning back to his wife (who looked like she was squeezing Jason so tight he couldn’t breathe).

“Hmm Jason never mentioned you were so pretty, Pigtails,” Roy winked leaving a flustered and blushing Marinette. Roy was certainly not bad looking, she entertained, messy red hair, piercing green eyes, and a build that could only be envied by weight lifters. Marinette found herself wondering how he got so ripped. She shook the thought away and went over to join the group.

“It’s so good to meet you! I’m Kor’i...Grayson” Kor’i said, using her husband's last name, releasing Jason from her grip and zeroing in on Mari, “Good to know our Jason has a good influence finally.” Marinette giggled and nodded, “I don’t know about that-“

“Jay Jay won’t shut up about his new little sister, you got him to stop drinking too, you are a good influence. I’m Dick Grayson by the way,” Dick responded giving her smile of pride and appreciation. Marinette blushed, giving Jason time to take the wheel, “Well Buttercup, should we show them your pie?” Roy raised an eyebrow and gave a sexy smirk, ‘ Not sexy! Not sexy!!!’ Marinette tried to convince herself, at least Roy wasn’t as bad as Red Hood, if he was Marinette wouldn’t be able to function.

“Yes! I’m all for pie!” Dick smiled taking his chuckling wife’s arm to the table. Marinette and Jason went to join them, but Roy placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulders, “I’m Roy by the way.” Marinette smiled sweetly, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise Pigtails,” Roy winked causing Marinette to turn bright red and Jason to glare at him. Roy chuckled under his breath as the three of them joined the table.

~•~Thursday, Nov. 28, 10pm EST•~•

Dinner had gone over well. It was great actually. The only thing Marinette would’ve changed was Roy subtly flirting with her, not because it made her uncomfortable but because she found herself lost in fantasy about him when he called her Pigtails and winked.

It was considerably late and Marinette did want to get to sleep, but then she remembered that she didn’t know the sleeping arrangements. She didn’t really know how to ask so when everyone was focused on a football game Marinette whispered, as quietly as possible, to Jason, “Where should I sleep tonight?” Roy overheard and smirked, “Well Kor’i and Dick can share in the guest room together, Jason can take his own room and we can share Pigtails.” Marinette blushed and Jason gave Roy a death stare. If looks could kill…

“ Or,” Jason hissed quietly at Roy, “Kor’i and Dick take the guest room, you take my room, Marinette sleeps in hers and I take the couch.” Roy chuckled at Jason, getting under his skin was too fun, “Sure thing.”

“If you guys aren’t going to watch the game and instead gossip like teenagers we’ll change the channel,” Dick said with Kor’i wrapped around his arms reaching for the remote. Dick pressed a button and a news broadcast appeared. Everyone gasped audibly at what horrors laid on the screen.

Marinette didn’t know a lot about Gotham villains, but the face of this one was recognizable world wide.

Joker. In full manic glory he was laughing insanely, sweat running down his sick, white painted face and causing his green hair to stick to it. He held a little boy at gunpoint, screaming, “Where’s Batsy? Or maybe one of his sidekicks?” When only the sound military choppers answered his query Joker’s smile darkened and he spoke again, “Come on, I haven’t got all day!”

Jason’s fists clenched, Roy and him communicated silently as they tried to plan how to get to the scene without revealing their identities to Marinette.

“Why don’t you go to bed Buttercup? It’s late and this isn’t something you should see.” Normally Marinette would be annoyed at Jason treating her like a child, but she was relieved. This gave her an exit, and she’d be able to transform into Lady Pegasus to help with Joker. She walked to her room, not noticing how the heroes behind her had gathered and were motioning.

Marinette walked into her room and closed the door, she gave it a good minute before whispering, “Spots on! Tikki, Kaaliki, unify!”

Marinette was able to make a portal quickly, she had noticed the location of Joker on the TV and teleported there immediately. She landed behind a cargo container, which was deserted and dark. She peeked around it to see she was directly behind Joker and his hostage.

She thought about how she might go about saving the little boy when she saw four heroes land in front of the Joker. She recognized Red Hood from their previous encounter, and she saw a Nightwing with two other heroes she didn’t know the name of.

“Well, well, now things are getting interesting!” Joker cackled earning him a glare from the only girl in the group of heroes who stood next to Nightwing. “Tell me, Nightwing, Red Hood, Arsenal, Starfire-“

“So you know our names! Big deal!” Said the redhead, Arsenal.

“How rude,” scoffed Joker pushing the gun closer to the little boy’s temple, “Didn’t even let me finish.”

Joker moved the boy’s light brown hair out of the way and stared into his caramel eyes, “Tell me, do you want to save him?” He asked motioning towards the terrified little boy, “Or do you want to disarm the four bombs around Gotham that I’ve set to go off in twenty minutes?” The heroes faltered,

“You’re bluffing,” Nightwing said crossing his arms. “Am I?” Joker cackled pulling a detonator out of his coat, “Now, now. I want our game to be fair, each of you start out for one of the bombs or you can save the kid and millions of others go boom!” Joker made a motion, flicking his hand to symbolize the boom. “Better hurry and make your decision though, the clock is ticking!” Joker laughed pulling out a small clock which was counting down from twenty minutes.

Lady Pegasus saw her chance, “lucky charm,” she whispered. A red and black spotted frisbee fell from the sky. The gun flashed with spots as did her yo-yo. While the heroes were stunned, trying to figure out what to do, Marinette threw the frisbee, causing it to collide with great force into the gun. The gun was knocked out of Joker’s hands, “Hey!” He shouted, but before he could turn around Lady Pegasus had stood up and used her yo-yo to take the detonator from him.

“Oooh!” He grinned as he looked back at her, “New meat! She’s good too!” Arsenal was able to grab the child and the gun while Joker was distracted, “Sure you have my detonator, but the bombs are still rigged to go off in,” Joker spat at Marinette checking his clock, “Nineteen minutes! And you don’t know where they areee!” He singsonged as  he started to laugh.

Nightwing pulled up the schematics of Gotham, looking specifically for trace elements of laughing gas which Joker always filled his bombs with.

“Arsenal, central station! Starfire, Grand Plaza! I’ve got Upper Market, Red Hood take Gotham Flats!” Nightwing commanding signaling a special message to Red Hood. Both Red Hood and Lady Pegasus’ eyes widened, ‘ Gotham Flats is where I live with Jason! Oh no! Roy, Dick, and Kor’i are there too!’ Marinette internally screamed.

‘ Buttercup is sleeping in her room! I have to save her!!!’ Jason panicked as he started off to his home.

“Red Hood!” Lady Pegasus called. “Look Mystery Girl, we appreciate you saving our asses back there but now I’ve gotta move!” Jason said as he internally freaked out, he wanted to learn more about the mystery girl of course but he wanted to save Marinette more.

“I’m coming with you!” Lady Pegasus yelled as she ran to catch up with him, she grabbed her frisbee off the ground and followed Red Hood to save Jason. Red Hood didn’t argue, the more chance he had of saving Buttercup the better.

‘ Come on! Go faster!’ He screamed to himself, ‘ You just got Marinette, you can’t afford to lose her!’

Marinette raised her yo-yo and lifted Red Hood in her arms, swinging it to get to the Flats.

Though Red Hood wasn’t used to being carried he relaxed a little when he saw that the mystery girl was headed in the right direction and was going much faster than it would’ve been on foot.

Glass shattered as Marinette swung her yo-yo into the lobby of the flats.

“Red Hood, your bomb is behind the desk in the lobby.” Nightwing said over the comms. Jason jumped over the desk to see a large bomb at 16 minutes.

“Shit! Red Hood to Nightwing!” Jason called pressing his comm. Marinette rushed over to join him at the desk, she knew she had only two minutes left before she transformed back, “Which wire do we cut?!” Marinette gasped when she saw the bomb, a massive array of wires in a variety of colors.

“Damn it!” Jason said when he couldn’t get an answer, “Mystery girl! Can’t you get one of those magic charms!” Marinette shook her head, “It only works once and I have two minutes before I detransform!”

Jason facepalmed, ‘ of course’ . “Well we’re doo-“

“Nightwing to everyone! I disabled my bomb, cut the red wire!” Jason breathed a sigh of relief, “We’re cutting the red wire,” he told Marinette. Marinette nodded as he cut it.

Suddenly 19 minutes went to 1!

“SHIT!” Jason yelled, “Uh- We've got a problem!!!” He made a split decision and ripped out all the wires.

The time didn’t stop, in fact it went down to thirty seconds. Red Hood tackled Lady Pegasus, and shielded her from the explosion.

Which never came. Marinette breathed heavily as Red Hood was on her, his chest pressed to hers, she was rigid, hoping Jason, Roy, Kor’i and Dick would be ok.

‘ I bet you’re eating this up,’ Kaaliki giggled the back of her mind.

‘ KAALIKI!’

‘What? Just trying to lighten the mood.’

Jason got up, and Marinette realized thirty seconds had passed. Jason laughed and sighed in relief when he looked at the bomb. Marinette sat up to see the bomb had completely powered down.

“Update Nightwing, we got ours.” Jason said smashing the bomb into pieces.

“Good, Rendezvous back at you know where.”

Marinette breathed in, relieved. “Before I go little Lady, I have to know. Who are you?” Red Hood asked as he stood up and hopped over the desk.

“I’m a friend.” Was all Marinette could say as her earrings beeped. She tipped an invisible hat to him before saying, “Miraculous cure!” She escaped out the window and climbed up to her room with the help of her yo-yo in the chaos of the ladybugs cleaning up.

Marinette pushed her open window and fell into the bed as her transformation wore off, “What a battle, huh Tikki. Well all three of us should actually get to bed. What do you say?” The two kwamis smiled at their holder, “Sounds great Marinette.” Tikki said before lounging on her pillow.

“I don’t know, wouldn't you rather go sleep with that guy? The redhead who’s been flirting all night?” Kaaliki asked as they giggled at their own teasing.

“KAALIKI!” Marinette whisper-shouted burying her face in her pillow. “Priceless!” They laughed as they joined Tikki and fell into a slumber.

~•Friday, Nov. 29, 1am EST•~•

Marinette couldn’t sleep. She’d tried, but avoided tossing and turning as to not wake up her kwamis. She checked the clock on her bedside table and sighed when she realized how long it had been. Marinette slowly crept out of the bed and to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Marinette didn’t wear anything revealing to sleep, she enjoyed being comfortable while sleeping so she mostly wore long flannel pajamas in the fall and winter. That was what she was wearing today, but when she got into the kitchen she realized there was such a thing as too comfortable.

Roy was opening a water bottle as he turned around to Marinette. “Ah Pigtails.” He greeted, “Why are you up so late?” But Marinette could barely answer, he didn’t have a shirt on.

And he was just as ripped as she imagined, not that she had! She totally didn’t! Thank god he was wearing long jeans, she did not want to be thinking about him like that.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She responded as she too went to the fridge for water, looking at his face and not daring to look any further down.

“Hmm. Bad dream?” Roy asked as he took a swig of water. “Not really, I just couldn’t turn off my brain.” Roy chuckled, “Yeah, I have days like that. Try counting backwards from 100, that always puts me out quickly.” Marinette nodded, “Thanks Roy.”

“Hey no problem Pigtails. And you know, if you need me I’m right down the hall.” He said charmingly, but not in a flirty way like Marinette expected, just in a caring way. Roy left her standing in the kitchen as he went back to Jason’s room. Marinette followed suit, going to her own room.

She put the water on the bedside table and laid down again.

‘ 100, 99, 98…’

Tag List:

@northernbluetongue

@dawnwave16

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@caffeinetheory

@vixen-uchiha

@thepeacetea

@marinettepotterandplagg

@zalladane

@littleblue5mcdork

@eliza-bich

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@derpingrainbow

@iloontjeboontje

@crazylittlemunchkin

[edream93]

I’m Hooked On All These Feelings (Harry of Auradon AU) Part 12-End

Hey everyone! This is the final chapter! Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read and supported this story. 

Anyway, this is also posted on on AO3 or FF.net. Here’s the link for Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6 ,  Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 , Part 10 , and Part 11 of the story.

Maleficent’s head crashed against the floor, the vibrations nearly knocking most people off their feet. A final exhale was released before both head and body turned into dust before completely disappearing. 

Jay cautiously got up from holding Mal, slowly stepping back as if dealing with a wild animal.

Uma moved silently towards Mal, sword down but cautious. Her face was expressionless as she watched Mal’s body shake with sobs. Uma’s entire body sang with energy so intense she clutched tightly to the hilt of her sword. 

Her legs itched, feeling too dry, too restricted. She wanted nothing more than to follow the call of the sea and test her new limits. To see how long she could swim and be one with the waves and tides before she ever felt tired. She wanted to sail the seas. She wanted to see the shores of Neverland that Harry always spoke about with such delight and wonder. (She wanted to watch that look of wonder unfold across his face again and again and again. To soak it in. To kiss it like the sun and sea kiss at the horizon…) 

But not now. 

The fight wasn’t over. Not yet.

There was one last dragon to slay.

Mal’s sobs suddenly stopped as she turned to Uma. Green eyes flashed haphazardly. “You did this,” she said so quietly Uma almost didn’t hear her. Getting shakily up to her feet, Mal’s face twisted with raw anger. “YOU. DID. THIS!” Mal howled, body shaking, blurring around the edges, a hazy smoke that Uma eyed wearily. As if a line holding her up had snapped, Mal bent over, the weight of her despair pulling her down. “FIX IT!” she ordered at the ground. 

“No,” Uma firmly stated with the power of thunder in her voice and steel in her stance. 

Mal gasped.

“Please Uma. Fix it!” Mal fell to her knees, hands raised and outstretched to Uma as if she was her only salvation. Her green eyes were soft and filled with something that Uma would never be able to be forgiving enough to call love. “Uma. Please. You can do it. I know you can. You can- you were-just, please!”

Uma’s face was a complete expressionless mask. Rage boiled beneath her skin. Had Mal ever listened to her pleas? Had she listened? Had she? HAD SHE?

 She took a step forward, bending forward to whisper into Mal’s ear, warm breath caressing her ear in a mocking twisted imitation of a lover’s murmur. “Rotten roots make rotten apples,” she said before pulling away, a not at all small part of herself relishing the way that Mal’s face crumbled at those words.

Mal glared up at her. “So what are you going to do? Slay me too?” she nodded towards the sword in Uma’s grip. 

Uma’s grip on the hilt of her sword tightened. It would be so easy to do that, wouldn’t it? But then...she would be no better than the villains that she had grown up around...or the heroes that had left them on the Isle in the first place.  

“No,” Uma shook her head. “You aren’t worth my time,” she said sheathing her sword dismissively.

Mal’s expression cracked. She looked more creature than human, snarled mouth and fae like features sharpened and inhuman. Claw like hands reached out to wrap around Uma’s neck and wring out every last breath...

...and then Mal collapsed against the floor with a thud and a loud snore.  

“Wow. Mother was right. Apples do make sleeping potions more potent,” Evie hummed conversationally as she looked at a small spray bottle before tucking it into the pocket of her dress. “Maybe taking a little nap will put her in a better mood.”

Uma hummed distractedly, looking down at her lifelong tormentor. She had never seen Mal’s face so relaxed and peaceful before. She knew that she should be figuring out a more long term solution for Mal but as she felt someone turn her around and lift her up into the air, Uma found it difficult to allow Mal to get in the way of her happiness any more.

“Uma,” Harry purred against her stomach as she dropped her sword, her hands finding perch on his shoulders. “Uma,” he murmured again, placing her feet back on the ground, their foreheads pressed together. “Uma.”

“Harry,” Uma found herself smiling, releasing a breath she had been holding now that she was able to touch him again. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, her cheeks warm. He looked at her like she was his world, a feeling that made Uma feel both powerful and terrified. 

For Harry, he never knew until that moment that his name could be said with so much fondness. Her hand instantly began running through his wet hair, his knees nearly buckling, praise falling from his lips like the most delicate pearls. He leaned forward and tucked his face into her deck, breathing deeply and pressing a lingering kiss on her neck before pulling back, pressing his forehead against her again.  

The necklace around his neck hummed in tandem with the one tucked underneath her collar, wrapping them in magic that made his blood sing, too much magical energy rushing through him with no release. But each run of Uma’s fingers through his hair seemed to siphon off all of the excess energy he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in for days until this moment. A delicate and delicious balance of pain and pleasure. 

“Sorry,” the sea witch murmured, bumping gently her nose against his before taking one of his hands into hers.

Sorry for running.

Sorry for being afraid of whatever was growing between them.

Sorry for doing anything that put space between them.

“Oh! An apology! I see those Remedial Goodness classes are working out,” Harry softly teased, wrapping his other arm around her waist, pushing her further against him, teal and red colliding. He pressed his lips against hers to drink in the soft gasp that escaped hers like it was the only thing that could sustain him...Like she was the only one that could sustain him.

“Maybe you should get a room.”

Harry blinked, dazed, then pouted as Uma pushed him away with a laugh. He glared at Ben who only grinned smugly back.

“You know, your majesty,” Harry pointed his finger at the now king, his other hand already reaching out to pull Uma back against his side. “You are a terrible wingman.”  

Uma rolled her eyes at Harry, slapping his hand away before turning her attention to Ben instead. 

“I’m not going to apologize for what I did,” she stated as the coronation goers including Adam, Belle, Fairy Godmother, Audrey, and a now awake and ashamed look Jane began to enter back in. “For breaking Gil out of jail or stealing from the museum.” She picked up the sword from where it fell on the ground, feeling the heavy but grounding weight of the sword. “Or even for killing Maleficent,” she looked down at Mal’s unconscious form still on the ground. “It had to be done.”

Fairy Godmother gasped taking in the Sword and Shield of the Three Good Fairies that Uma and Gil were holding, respectively. “Unfortunately Uma, all actions must have their consequences!” she tutted. “Uma, you are guilty for obviously breaking out Gil and you both are guilty of stealing from the Auradon History Museum!The rules are there for a reason! To keep order. Punishment for such deplorable actions must be given!”

“Are you going to punish Uma by making her fall off a roof to her death?” Gil asked worriedly, stepping protectively next to Uma. “That’s what King Beast did to my dad.”

Adam and Belle both paled at the memory.

“Or maybe pushing people off cliff edges is your more your style, Fairy Godmother” Evie asked with an innocent pout, eyes sharp and calculating as she stood behind Uma. 

Fairy Godmother look offended. “W-why I’d never-”

“Maybe they’ll make you go insane before locking you up,” Carlos interrupted, easily dodging out of Fairy Godmother’s reach as she tried to grab back her wand from him. He moved next to Evie, behind and slightly to the side of Uma, handing her the wand. 

Everyone in the room seemed to tense as Uma fluidly took the wand, handing Harry the sword. 

“Or maybe,” Jay said stepping up to Uma, his eyes never leaving her guarded brown ones. “They’ll turn you into a slave and keep you in a prison so small and restricting you’ll beg for death as long as that means you’d be free.”

Unspoken words went between Jay and Uma for several seconds before Uma nodded, and Jay slid easily right behind Uma, between Carlos and Evie. 

Uma gazed at the wand, running a long line down it with a finger, a thoughtful expression on her face. She turned her gaze towards Fairy Godmother, watching smugly as the woman paled in fear. 

It would be so easy to lean into it. To make them all fear her name. 

She glanced over at Mal’s unconscious body, hand gripping the wand even more tightly, before looking back up.

“You know, a lot of people on the Isle would literally kill to get their hands on this thing,” she said with an almost absentminded tone that was betrayed by the way she flicked the wand experimentally, dangerous gold and teal sparks flying from its end. Everyone except Harry, Ben, and the rest of the Isle kids took a fearful step back. “It would be so easy to just...” shrug, “...tear the barrier down. Free all the kids who never got a chance to choose for themselves whether they would be heroes or villains. I’m sure all our parents would be so thrilled for a reunion with all of you,” she smiled at Ben’s parents and the headmistress. 

“And with Maleficent gone and Mal temporarily out of the picture, I wouldn’t be surprised if it became a power struggle between the baddest of the bads that led to your pretty little kingdoms falling. One. After. The. Other,” she punctuated with flicks of her wrists that shot out spells as easy as breathing. 

Waves of magic that smelled like sea salt flowed throughout the room, righting knocked over furniture and erasing scorched marks. Thick iron handcuffs appeared around Mal’s wrist which wouldn’t kill the half fae but would definitely leave an irritating rash against her skin. 

“So cool,” Gil whispered in awe as she also made their clothes dry and clean. And just to see the look on the woman’s face, Uma changed Fairy Godmother’s gown into a patch worked Isle version of her signature cape. 

The sea witch smirked, crossing her arms over her chest at the indignant squawk the woman gave. “I mean, it’s like you said, Fairy Godmother: Punishment for such deplorable actions must be given. And I think allowing innocent children to grow up and starve on an Isle full of thieves, killers, rapists, and swindlers deserves punishment too, don’t you?”

Fairy Godmother, grew pale, eyes growing dangerously wide as the wand was lazily pointed towards her. Before she could mess with anyone else, Ben stepped in front of her, hand outstretched to her with that gentle patient smile of his, all kingly justice and naivety wrapped up in sincere blue and gold wrappings.

Uma sighed as she felt Harry tense next to her but didn’t hold a grudge against him. Ben with his kindness and loyalty and good faith in others had gotten under her skin. 

“Help me then,” he said simply to her before looking at the other Isle kids around her. “All of you. Be the solution. Uma, you told me once about how cruel the Isle can be. So help me get kids like you, kids whose backs have been pushed against the wall and are just trying to survive the only way they know how, here where they can be safe.”

“And what makes you think helping you appeals to me at all?” Uma questioned.

Ben smiled, as if she had asked something obvious. 

“Because,” he looked towards Harry.  “Even though he’s basically committing treason right now, I still trust Harry and his decisions with my life. Because even before you took down an actual dragon, you cared. I could see it and I think I can guess that the only reason you let yourself be the subject of the love spell on me was because it was better than it being Mal. And because when I look at you and Harry,” his voice filled with warmth and genuineness, “it just fits. Does that make sense?” 

Uma snorted, shaking her head though a small smile broke through. The hand not holding the wand reached out without looking and easily slipping into Harry’s, giving it a tight squeeze. 

“It’s starting to.”

Harry grinned, raising their entwined hands up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. Uma glanced at him, seeing all the tension release from his shoulders and ignoring the way her heart lurched as if it wanted to punch right through her chest to be closer to him. She looked to her other side at Gil who was beaming brightly down at her and for once in her life Uma felt without fear. Her body felt light and filled with warmth that she had never really experienced before. 

She was happy. She was free. 

Stepping forward, Uma handed Fairy Godmother her wand back. The headmistress, let a relieved smile split her face before stepping back, doing a small flick that returned her dress back to the gown she was wearing. 

Ben cleared his throat, drawing attention back to him. 

“Uma of the Isle,” Ben said with a grin. “As King, any crimes that you or the others have committed in the last week have been pardoned. Good deeds deserve to be recognized just as much as bad ones deserve to be punished,” he winked. 

Uma paused. “Are you serious?” she questioned.

Ben nodded. “Very. So it is said, so it be done.” 

“So you’re not sending us back to the Isle?” Carlos questioned.

“Nope. You’re free to stay in Auradon if you wish.”

“Oh, we wish,” Carlos said happily giving both Jay and Gil a high five while Evie squealed with genuine happiness. Harry could tell King Adam and Queen Belle seemed exchanged unsure glances with each other behind Ben but kept silent, trusting their son’s judgement.

Evie stepped forward. “Your majesty. Ben,” she smiled taking his hands. “There’s a lot of kids on the Isle who deserve a happy ending. If I’m not being too bold, I’d like to offer my help in getting more kids off the Isle and aiding in their transition here.”

Ben grinned, squeezing her hand. “I would love that Evie."

"Uh...we'd like to help too," Jay said humbly. Carlos nodded next to him. "There's a lot more kids like us who need their pain and aggression channeled through more positive influences," he said glancing at Uma with a sad smile before looking back at the king. "I know that was true for me."

"That's great! Write me a list of all of your ideas and we can-” Ben began but was cut off by a loud commotion outside.

“They’re here!” Gil perked up, looking eagerly between Uma and Harry before pushing through the confused crowd to the door. Uma and Harry grinned at each other as well, quickly following Gil. 

Ben followed them outside, unsure of what to expect with Evie, Jay, and Carlos behind him. When he got outside, the king had to do a double take at what he saw. 

A large crowd of children from toddlers to gangly teenagers wearing the distinctive patchwork clothing of the Isle stood on the steps leading up to the coronation hall. Looks of wonder, fear, and awe were all on their faces as they looked around the bright and clean views of Auradon taking it all in. One little girl with glasses and colorful streaks of hair pulled into messy ponytails at the top of her hair pulled away from the group and ran towards them straight towards Evie.

“Dizzy,” Evie exclaimed happily, pulling the younger girl into her arms in a tight hug, Dizzy speaking with rapid excitement 

“Remember what you said about pardoning us for any crimes we may have committed this week?” Carlos grinned holding up the remote that let down the Isle’s barrier.

“I wasn’t going to forget that we weren’t the only ones who needed to get off the Isle,” Uma said with a look that said she dared him to say something negative about her freeing a bunch of Isle kids.

Ben was speechless for a moment before he shook his head with a laugh. “I guess you and I have our work ahead of us,” he chuckled at Evie before turning to Uma. “Any other surprises?”

“Just one more Benny!” a familiar voice shouted above them, a large shadow falling on them all. 

The new King paled as ship covered in fairy dust floated over them, CJ wearing a very obvious Isle inspired outfit as she hung off one of the rigs, iridescent wings flashing a kaleidoscope of colors behind her. On board the deck of the ship, he could see more Isle kids yelling with excitement over the boat edges as they shouted at and pointed at the dumbstruck Auradon citizens below. 

“UMA!” they all cheered, when they saw her teal hair. Someone threw down a rope ladder that Gil already started climbing up. 

“That’s our ride,” Harry grinned. “I’m guessing we’ll have two days head start before you send Harriet after us?” 

Shaking his head, Ben patted him on the shoulder. If it lingered longer than necessarily, neither boy pointed it out. “Oh, not even being the High King of Auradon can stop Harriet from giving you anything more than an hour head start.” 

Harry ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right. But this is what I want,” he said softly, glancing over at Uma who had already said her goodbyes to Evie, Jay, and Carlos and was climbing up the rope ladder. “She’s what I want.”

Ben reached out and pulled him into another hug. “Then I’ll try to get you at least two hours headstart,” he grinned pulling away.

“Just two?”

“Well my fiance is running away with a beautiful woman so forgive me if I’m feeling a bit scorned,” Ben teased.

Harry rolled his eyes as he began to climb the rope ladder. “You’re never gonna let that go are you?” he shouted over his shoulder as the ship began to rise.

“Nope!” Ben shouted back, becoming smaller and smaller. 

Harry shook his head, a smile on his lips before climbing the rest of the way up. Uma reached out and helped to tug him over the side of the ship despite her small frame. They stumbled however, and Harry found himself bringing Uma closer to him once more to keep their balance. 

“You’re amazing,” he found himself breathing out as he looked into her brown eyes. 

“Not bad yourself, sailor,” Uma chuckled, allowing herself to enjoy being in his arms, leaning towards him, lips barely brushing against each other.

“Captain!” CJ shouted from where she now stood at the wheel. 

“Yes?” Both Harry and Uma said at the same time. Uma glared at him, a look that would have made other men tremble in their boots, but for Harry made him smile with glee, letting out a little giggle. 

CJ rolled her eyes at the two of them. “Where are we heading?”

“We’ll go where the wind takes us!” Uma grinned before looking at Harry. “Together,” she said softer so that only he could hear her. 

He grinned, a wild crazed look that buzzed in the presence of the surrounding pixie dust, threatening to overwhelm him. But Uma’s presence kept him anchored. Every touch, every smile, every little wrinkle of her nose kept him from drowning. The necklace around his neck thrummed, vibrating with unsaid but acknowledge feelings of warmth, trust, and love. Uma reached up to her necklace, the Nevershell she had given him and he knew she felt the same. 

Pivoting on his heel, Harry’s manic grin grew wider as everyone’s eyes were on them. “You heard the Captain,” he laughed. “We ride with the wind! Now get your lazy asses moving or I’ll toss you over myself,” he barked as he began to give orders to their crew, easily inspiring both fear and awe despite being Auradon born. 

“Uma,” Gil asked softly next to her as they watched Harry tease one of the crew, Jonas, about his horrible knots. “Is this what happily ever afters feel like?”

Uma shook her head. “No...this is better.”

[nerdyagony]

WARNING: this is a very long appreciation post.

I am unashamed to say that my parents are my heroes.

My dad is a psychologist who primarily works with kids, teenagers, and families going through things like divorce, depression, anxiety, autism, abuse, etc.

He literally stops people from committing suicide every day, and he STILL has time to explain things to me and my brother, watch violent movies and TV shows with us, and take me book shopping (where I regularly go overboard).

He runs his own practice, is fair to everyone who works for him, and has offered to see a few of my friends who struggle with some of the aforementioned issues.

He is the nicest person I’ve ever met. He remembers everyone’s name, reads some of the stories I’ve written (and have asked him to read), and — and this is VERY important to me — he doesn’t speak to teenagers like we’re teenagers.

He speaks to us like we’re adults. Like we have the mental capacity to grasp difficult terms and understand certain things. Because we do. And I will forever be grateful to have him as my dad.

My mum is also a psychologist, except now she’s retired due to various health problems, and her clients mainly consisted of adults who were non-binary, part of the LGBTQ+ community in some way, or had anxiety, Aspergers, autism, etc.

My mum is the person who proofreads the eleven different drafts my sister wrote for her university assignment. She’s the one who trusts me to read a university-level book on the study of gender, and she’s also the one who picks me up from school on a hot day with a cold drink.

She’s the one who recommends all the crime fiction books I now love, who buys me fancy pens because she knows she can trust me to not lose them, who dealt with my insane eating habits growing up.

She’s the one who, when I told her that I thought I might be a boy, immediately said, “OK, what do you want to do? Change your name? Awesome. I’ll set up an appointment with a psychiatrist so we can get you on hormone blockers ASAP.”

She is the one who constantly tells me not to start my assignments the night before they’re due, because she won’t help me, and then helps me anyway.

She is the person who took me to my first protest (BLM) earlier this year, even though COVID was still a problem in our community and both my parents are high-risk.

My parents are the people who, when they heard my friend was going to come out to their parents, told me to tell them that they are always welcome in our house, and even when I’m not home, they can crash on our couch.

My parents are the people I, an angsty teenager, tell my teachers about, because they are such smart people that I am not afraid to let it be known that I love them and will forever be thankful that they are my parents.

I am not afraid to be seen in public walking with my dad to the bookstore. I am not afraid to be seen in public having breakfast with my mum in the local cafe. I am not afraid because if anyone from my school happened to see me with them and even attempted to make fun of them, I would laugh.

Because they have no idea how badly my parents could tear them apart. If they wanted to.

That is the reason I am not ashamed of my parents.

I am a nerdy, book-reading, DnD-playing, story-writing, song-singing, guitar-strumming, music-listening, raw-cookie-dough-inhaling ice-tea addict of a person.

I have social anxiety and I’m a tad aspy and I am the mother of two cats and the aunt of three dogs. I have a lot of embarrassing moments that I wish to the lord that I could forget.

But none of those moments involve anything to do with my parents. And I love them so much for all they’ve done for me. And for all the times they’ve messed up. And for all the people they’ve helped. And for all the work they’ve done. And for all the other amazing things they’ve accomplished.

Because they are just that amazing.

[jessejostark]

10 Questions w/ Jesse Jo Stark About Cool Parents, the Awesomeness of Cher + Still Believing in Rock & Roll

Other than maybe Sean Lennon and Jakob Dylan, Jesse Jo Stark grew up with surely the most inspirational people a future musician could possibly hope for. Indeed, her parents Richard Stark and Laurie Lynn Stark are the founders of rock & roll jewelry studio-turned-empire Chrome Hearts—whose clientele includes the likes of Bono, Elton John and Slash. And her Godmother is none other than the goddess of stage, screen and song Cher, who has been a continuing influence on her very talented niece.

Not just that, but she was sort of mentored from the start of her music career by Sex Pistol Steve Jones, who hosts the now legendary radio show Jonesy’s Jukebox in Los Angeles, where Jesse Jo also resides. And most recently, she appeared in the video for Brit punker YUNGBLUD’s new single “Strawberry Lipstick,” while corona had stranded him in LA.

But for all they may have rubbed off on her, the young Ms. Stark makes music that surely comes from somewhere deep within herself. Each song seems a little piece of her that she allows out into the world, revealing the inner intensity and intimacy that belie a very public persona.

Her previous single, a cover of John Prine’s “Angel From Montgomery,” was a languid, fuzzed-out country gem of a ballad. But new track “Tangerine” is a mini-masterpiece of sorts, exhibiting her ease with crossing genres and weaving them seamlessly together. The twangy guitars are back, but there’s a little Beatles, a little widescreen Britpop, and just a hint of retro Cali dreaming as well. With its lush strings, and Stark’s haunted voice so full of longing, it vividly evokes so many life memories of love’s powerful pull.

For the video, she reached out to fans to create their own vision for the visual accompaniment to the song, and they were then edited together—a way of crossing the quarantine divide via the power of art. She describes it thusly:

“What I’ve missed most in this new way of livin’ has been the live shows and hanging out with everyone every night. So along with the ‘Tangerine’ track release, we thought it would be super sweet to get everyone involved in the video, so it’s almost like we’re all having this one big party together, no matter where we are in the world, physically we are together in heart. i’ve been at home watching everyone’s videos in full tears with the biggest smile wrapped around my face. everyone’s creativity and love for this song has been overwhelming. It makes my heart beat knowing that they can take away a little piece of ‘Tangerine’ and make it their own. it’s fucking beautiful. it’s art.”

We hit Jesse Jo with ten questions about all of the above, and as it turned out, even her answers were uniquely stylish.

Your influences are distinctly 1960s + ’70s. Do you feel a bit out of place in the current musical zeitgeist of hip-hop preeminence and so much over-glossed pop? my influences are not only 60’s and 70’s

and the thing about the current state of music right now is that there is nothing out of place. hip hop artists pull samples from old soul, country, and r&b records and it’s all turning into a place you can do anything you want. the only thing that pisses me off is when people chase chart positions by making the same shit over and over.

there is a difference between being out of place and making a place for yourself. so to answer. no i do not feel out of place. i feel like i’m right where i should be

What was some of the music you grew up listening to? my dad was always my go-to with music. he always played the clash, merle, john lennon, brian eno, david bowie on the way to school. with the occasional britney n christina.

i remember this one time,i think i was about 7 years old, he picked me up at my friend sasha’s house and i was throwing a fit because i didn’t want to leave. as we pulled out of the drive way he turned on “should i stay or should i go” by the clash. i had never heard it before. he looked at me and smiled and i felt my bad mood melt away. i remember thinking, as i tried my best to keep scowling at him, “i wanna make something this cool” . n i’m still tryin

What was it like growing up with rocker parents? Did that imprint on your personal aesthetic? are they rocker !? i mean i know they are pretty damn cool. everything about them has left a huge beautiful mark all over me. they are my favorite legends and they inspire me completely and truly .

On “Tangerine,” one can detect references to the The Beatles, Oasis, Patsy Cline, Mazzy Star…what has been your musical state of mind of late? what a major line up i wanna go to that show.

my musical state of mind has been to make more.

Image by Laurie Lynn Stark

Your music is very raw and seemingly unfussed over. Does inspiration find you in a mostly spontaneous fashion? oh it’s fussed . i am fussy . music for me is never just one thing. sometimes a song comes easy like it was layin on my night stand when i woke up. other times i feel like i have to cut my body open, drown in my tears and claw at the floor just to get one word out. inspiration is endless when you show up for it.

How did you come to work with YUNGBLUD? he called me n asked for me to be in his video . he said there’d be lips n latex. and so…

Cher is your godmother – has she been a mentor and influence? in every single way. i am in awe of her.

As opposed to those with batteries of stylists, you seem to really own your sense of style. Who are your fashion inspirations? my brother n sister, the cramps, cher, audrey hepburn, hands, animal print, love n london. i want to dress up like my favorite singers voices.

just like in every medium, i have people i’ve worked with forever. they’re my family. we understand each other. challenge each other and force each other to be brutally honest in the things we make.

i also love fresh eyes and ears and people that find new ways to look at the same things.

Is a full Jesse Jo Stark album on the horizon? it is n soon

Rock & roll as we know it seems to be on life support. What do you think is left for it? only if you aren’t lookin. there are so many insane bands in the world. some of my favorite bands now are kids my age. it isn’t dead. you just gotta find it.

[prongsisabadger]

Songs for the Heartbroken: That’s What You Get

AO3

FF.net

Prologue.

What is the scariest thing in the world? If people say whatever first comes to mind, we would probably end up with answers like heights, spiders, or maybe even death; but there are definitively things in this world that are scarier than that. The ones I particularly find most terrifying, are people. Of course there are different types of people that are terrifying in their own particular way, but here, I'll only write about one of them.

People who love. This might sound a little stupid to some but bare with me and allow me to explain. The word 'love' has now lost its essence from the amount of times we've heard it said with astonishing lack of sentiment. But I am not referring to an eleven-year-old's version of love when they first confess to their crush; nor am I speaking about those words guiltily spat between ground teeth or stuttered in the spur of a moment for lack of a better thing to say. I don't mean those many whispered 'I love you's of someone who just cheated on their significant other.

No, what I fear is much more profound, raw, animalistic even. What I feat is a person who disregards their own life in order to whatever or whomever they love. Those people have a purpose and will do anything to see it through. Just like a parent protecting their child, a soldier fighting for a cause they believe in or anything that can inspire such passion in a person's heart that the consequences of their actions go beyond one's imagination. People with a mission and the will to lay down their lives to accomplish it; those are the people who scare me the most. It's men and women with this kind of drive and determination who bring down nations, who are able to destroy anything in their path; capable of building relationships, entire lives and tear through them with savage violence and not an ounce of hesitation.

But the most frightening part of it is not what they are capable of, it's the fact that you never know who they are until its too late. You might have known that person your entire life and never had contemplated the possibility. Anyone can be one of these people, one of those who love too much; and you'll never know until it's too late, not even if that person is you.

That is the moment these people will stun you the most, when you find that you yourself are one of them, unsuspicious even to your own consciousness, until you realize that you would be willing to do the unthinkable to protect what you love. When you realize, that after all, those things that once seemed so terrible are not anymore, and that if it means safety, then you don't mind doing them anymore. Not even if it means you will lose your humanity in the process.

I have only seen such drive in someone other than my brother and me, and it took me quite some time to realize it too. I knew Shisui and I were special in some way other kids in the clan were not, that was at least until I met Itachi. The heir to the Uchiha leadership seemed like nothing special when we had first been introduced, he was serious, pensive even beyond what would be considered normal for a four year old. Even I with the extensive training (it was extensive, ok? Cut me some slack I was four) I had been put through at that tender age, was not as stuck up as he was. Turns out it wasn't because he felt superior to others, as most people outside the clan thought, he was just very insightful and preferred to assess the situation before taking part in it.

His father, the Uchiha clan head Fugaku, was insanely proud of him, and he had reason to. Itachi was a prodigy in every sense of the word, excelling in every ninja art at a very young age and showing more promise than any other child in Konohagakure no Sato. But what no one expected from the quiet prodigy, was the fact that he was one of these people; one of those who love too much.

My childhood had been good enough considering the times we were living in. I had grown up within the safe walls of the Uchiha compound, caging me in for six years until I would be allowed to enroll in the academy, keeping me from seeing much of the village and even less of the world. Not that this was uncommon, after all I was a child; but it was at that young age that life started shaping itself around me, and events that would be shaping my future, started taking place.

"But onii-chan, I already practiced shuriken jutsu and kunai this morning! Why can't you teach me more taijutsu?"

Ah, the innocent, peaceful days when my only concerns were regarding my training. For some reason, even if I was a spoilt brat most times, my brother managed to somehow keep his cool; he was good with children like that, even if he was only two years older.

"Akane, your taijutsu is nearly perfect; you're the only one who could give Fugaku-sama's son a run for his money. Your other skills need honing too, you know?" I pouted. I used to do that a lot back in the day, so much in fact that Shisui had become immune to its effects, unlike our grandparents.

I took the weapons basket my brother handed me and once again, turned to face the target hung on the sole sakura tree in our garden. It had become a routine with the passing of the years, after our parents died in the war, Shisui had decided to take my training upon himself; since our grandparents were too old (and in my oba-chans case, too reluctant) for the task. So ever since I could stand up straight, Shisui had attempted to give me the knowledge he had acquired over his few years ahead of me. So far, he had been succeeding, and with my upcoming entrance exam in two years and Shisui's eventual graduation, we tried to spend as much time together as possible.

All of this led to a very strict training schedule we followed almost religiously. Before Shisui left for the academy, we would do a series of stretches and warm-ups, followed by our daily morning spar. And when I say spar, I mean a four year old attempting to pose a challenge to her seven year old brother. Anyway, Shisui would leave for class after breakfast and a bath, and I would get stuck with obaa-chan and the chores for the rest of the morning. Cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, doing the futons, I hated it all; but I did it without complaining or slacking off for obaa-chan's sake.

After that, I would help jii-chan at his shop in the Uchiha district market. He was a blacksmith, one of the best among the clan, and I had always loved watching him turn raw iron into the fine pieces of art that were considered his blades. Most customers were members of the clan, but every now and then came people from other parts of the village; and since I rarely stepped out of the compound, these were the most interesting days.

The bell hung on top of the front door chimed, snapping me out of my reading induced trance; I marked the page I was reading and put the book under the counter. Chakra control was a very important part of shinobi lifestyle, and I'd taken to read it's theory after a rather long rant Shisui had gone on after being under graded at the academy. The chunin sensei had obviously been in the wrong, so I was determined to, when the time came, point this person in the right direction and avenge my brother. No one looked down on Uchiha Shisui without facing the wrath of his younger sister, ever.

I let go of my still unborn plan for vengeance as I saw one of my favorite cousins enter the shop.

"Obi-niiiiiiii" I screeched as I jumped down from the stool behind the counter and made my way to him as fast as my short legs allowed me.

I only stopped a few feet away when I saw he wasn't alone. Embarrassing Obito-nii in front of his friends would not do. I would have loved to force the air out of my cousin with all the force a four year old could put into a hug, but apart from embarrassing him, I would put a blemish in the spotless name of the Uchiha with such childish behavior. So before I could give jii-chan a reason to scold me, I bowed down at the waist and tried to put the best impression of 'shinobi Shisui' on my face.

"Obi-chan, Onii-san, Onee-san; welcome to Uchiha Fuko's armory. What can I do for you?"

The girl behind my cousin cooed as silently as she could to try and not hurt my pride; while the silver haired boy simply acknowledged me with a slight bow of his own. Meanwhile, Obito smiled proudly and held his held high, probably showing off, with a light blush on his cheeks.

"Mah, Akane-chan, no need for formalities, this is just my team. This is Rin, and The gloomy bastard is Kakashi, I call him Bakashi though, It's more fun that way." The last part he whispered, shooting me a cheeky grin.

My cousin had always been quite easy to read, but the fact that a four year old could tell he was extremely pleased, spoke volumes. When Obito was pleased about something, he tended to boast, a lot; thus providing me with a semi-reliable information source; one just had to know where to look. That was how I came to know they were due another mission the next day, which delighted me in a way only Shisui knew. I had always been almost morbidly interested in anything shinobi, so this new information summoned a wave of curiosity and enthusiasm that I could only just hide.

"So you need more supplies for your new mission, is that right? Should I get your usual order of kunai, shuriken and fire conducting wire? Or will you need something else? I heard things are getting rough out in the battlefield."

I tried to hide my curiosity as best I could, Obito might have been a bit naïve, but I had heard about a silver haired prodigy before, and didn't want to get caught red handed trying to collect information. Thank goodness, he seemed to think I was interested in the subject, or at least making polite conversation; because he gave no signs of being onto me. Meanwhile both Obito and Rin looked amused by my 'playing adult' and had bright smiles on their faces as well as their full attention on me.

Ever since I had first started speaking, I'd found that different words and expressions, got different reactions out of people. Shisui, being the ideal shinobi trainee, had wasted no time in helping me hone that skill. He said information gathering and manipulation were key abilities for a shinobi to have; but that should only be used on the enemy. Of course, being a four year old, my 'enemy' was whoever happened to have what I wanted. In this case, Obito-nii and his team.

Obito put his hands on his knees and crouched to my height in order to address me. I, on my behalf stood straighter at attention, like my brother had told me when being addressed by a superior.

"That, Akane-chan, is classified information." he said slowly, clearly with the intention of letting my brain take in the new word; but I had been in the same room as my brother when he studied, it wasn't completely foreign to me.

I nodded rapidly and took a step back to address the other two, obaa-chan would have my head if she heard I was impolite to customers; and she would sure flip if she knew said customers were friends and comrades of the Uchiha.

"Rin-san, Kakashi-san, were you two looking for anything in particular? Our shop has quite the reputation for our work with chakra conducting metals." I said and made my way behind the counter to look for my cousin's usual order.

I struggled a bit with my yukata when I tried to climb the ladders and reach the top shelves behind the counter; but I managed to avoid breaking my neck and look at least a bit like I knew what I was doing. Traditional clothes were very restricting, when movement was concerned, but it sure looked good on a shopkeeper.

"That's the reason we are here actually, Uchiha-san. Both Kakashi and me are in need of chakra conducting blades." Answered the girl politely, the gleam of amusement still present in her eyes.

The other boy, on the other hand, who I was now certain, was the last member of the Hatake clan, stood silently to the side. He was eyeing up a tanto that was being displayed on a shelve to the side. He had a good eye, if I was being honest. The blade was not just beautifully decorated, displaying a wolf pack in the hunt on the side; but it was also of the finest quality my jii-chan had ever been able to make.

"I am no expert in that specific area," I said climbing down and placing my cousin's order on the front desk. "Would you please excuse me while I fetch my grandfather?"

When the lone kunoichi nodded, I smiled as sweetly as I could. Turns out Fuko Jii-chan was done with his orders for the day; so when the customers left, with their personal needs satisfied, I was allowed to go home and wait for Shisui.

In the afternoons, my brother would tell me about the lessons he had had that day or even a story if he had one about his classmates or teachers. After that, he would oversee my chakra training for the day. On this special discipline, I struggled more than was considered appropriate for a member of the Uchiha clan. Shisui worked hard to encourage me and hide his concern, but even if I was four, the disappointment whenever the leaf fell from my forehead, was still present in my eyes.

I tried really hard not to get discouraged, my brother was making a huge effort, and giving in to despair would be like throwing it all away. I didn't care if the clan thought of me as a disgrace; I just wanted to make my brother proud, to make him acknowledge me as a capable individual, someone worthy of being his sister.

I panted hard, trying to regain my composure, as my brother sat cross legged in front of me; leaf still firmly chakra-bound to my forehead.

"Nii-san, this isn't working!"

I wasn't trying to be ungrateful, not at all, but there was clearly something I was doing wrong; and it wasn't only compromising my training and hindering my development, it was making me a burden for Shisui. I never wanted to burden my brother, ever.

"Maybe Obaa-chan is right, maybe I'm no good-"

"Nonsense" Shisui never showed his frustration, not when it came to me; but for some reason, whenever I mentioned the issue with Obaa-chan he seemed really bothered by it. "If you want to be a Shinobi; that is what you will become. It makes no difference if you develop slower than everybody else in the clan. You will not be a career bride if you so clearly don't wish to."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before standing from his place on the training ground floor.

"I don't care if I have to train you myself. We will make an outstanding kunoichi out of you, Akane-chan." Shisui offered me his hand with a tired smile and waited for me to take it.

I couldn't help but hug him once I was on my feet. I knew he meant every single word he had said, he always did; and the fact that he so clearly had my future in consideration, showed me just how much he cared, and how lucky I was.

"Thank you Nii-chan, you are the best."

Shisui smiled right back at me and crouched, offering me his back. It had become almost a ritual; whenever we would be done with afternoon training, Shisui would give me a piggyback ride back home.

"Everyone deserves to live their own lives the way they want to, to make their own decisions and learn from their mistakes. No one is the same, Akane, and even if you don't agree with them, you should respect the path they have chosen."

The usual buzz surrounding the main road in the Uchiha compound was noticeably absent as we made our way through; it was to be expected since business was a lot less in the evenings. Very few people could be seen roaming around, and the few shop keepers that usually worked late were now closing up their stores.

"what if someone makes a bad decision, Nii-chan?" I asked quietly, noticing that I had no need to raise my voice above a whisper for him to hear me. The atmosphere around us was very calm and gave off a sense of warmth and comfort that I didn't want to break.

"Then you can do nothing but accept that it is the path they have chosen for themselves; and that they will have to face the consequences no matter what. Just make sure you never enforce those consequences out of spite, anger or vengeance, Akane. If someone has to atone for their sins, then let yourself be guided by your sense of justice."

Not entirely sure about what he had just said, I decided to just nod and let my head rest against his shoulder. I would later in life realize what he had meant back then; when friends and family would turn into criminals if only for a series of bad decisions.

[mercysingstheblues]

Dinner Disturbed || Flashback Chatzy

Who: Sam Evans Mercedes Jones & Quinn Fabray. When: 7 months ago. What: Mercedes plans a nice dinner for Sam only for it to be interrupted.

Mercedes: smiled to herself as she put the finishing touches on dinner.  She was making Sam’s favorite meal.  She wanted to show him that although things had been a little awkward between them more so lately than normal that she was still appreciative of him.  Truth be told she wanted to show a form of affection that didn’t involve them having sex.  Sex they could do.  Sex they were amazing at actually, but when it came to the everyday romanticisms they were severely lacking.   She pulled the dinner rolls from the oven and placed them in a basket then on the table completing her meal.  “Sam,” she called out to him checking herself in the kitchen mirror quickly. “Dinner is ready.”  She straighten her dress and stood next to the table with a purpose.  Tonight would be a first step in the right direction for them or so she hoped.

Sam: Things between them were strained..had been for some time if he was honest. Ever since Finngate as he had dubbed the incident to himself. Something always held him back from her-apart from in bed. In bed, they pretty much fucked each other's brains out, the want, the need, the connection so damn raw and sinful, it was a wonder the whole damn bed..or truck..or restroom didn't combust. Yeah, he was an addict..addicted to sex with his wife, wherever, however, whenever..it didn't matter to him as long as he could get inside her with a quickness. Their friends ribbed them mercilessly, knowing exactly what they were up to, as soon as they spied the sex-mussed hair and rumpled clothing. Truth be told, he didn't care, and if Finn was there, he made sure to do it even more, wanting his friend to see the just-been-thoroughly-fucked look in her eyes, to remind him, she was Sam's wife, not his, and he was the only one that got to make her look like that. Still..things between them were awkward..He'd heard Kitty remarking rather loudly and snidely, that for a couple who 'screwed like bunnies at every opportunity' they never really engaged in any type of PDA in public. His fault, he knew. He had to get the image on Finn kissing his wife out of his mind. It was now over a year later, she hadn't left and they were doing OK..so why couldn't he move on? "Ok.." he called back to her, walking through to the dining room, of their now, much more well appointed apartment..still he did miss the older, smaller one though. They'd had some memorable times there. "Hmmm..smells good.." he murmured before reaching out and pulling her into his arms, his lips, nuzzling her neck. He was going to forget all about Finn and start showing her, how he felt and this right now, touching her felt right.

Mercedes: welcomed his embrace settling into his arms.   “I hope you’re hungry cause I made all of your favorites.  Including chocolate mousse for dessert.”  This wasn’t a special occasion of any sorts but she just wanted to do some gesture in hopes to get the ball rolling towards them opening up more with one another.  She noticed him becoming distance.  It had been almost a year since the change in Sam.  She couldn’t put it all on him though, since the kiss with Finn, she acted differently too.  At first she was just trying to make up for the guilt she felt and compensate for all the time she had been standoffish in the beginning.   “I was thinking, with Sammie being at my parents house that maybe we can have a nice night together.  Talk about some things.” She walked over to her seat and began to fix him a plate.   “So tell me how was your day?”

“It was good,” he replied, grinning as she subconsciously fussed over him, fixing him a plate of all his favourite things that she had taken the time and trouble to fix for him. “I think you’re right by the way..” he said softly, his hand going out to still her for a moment. “We need to talk..and I kinda think this has been a long time coming..” He was going to tell her, ask her if they stood a chance at forever- he’d agonised over what to do after Finngate and he’d come to the conclusion there was nothing for it. They needed to talk, about how they really felt and where that left them. “Cedes..” he began before the peal of his cell phone cut across his words. “Shit..” he sighed, snatching up the phone as the name Quinn scrolled across the screen. “Hey...I have to take this..” he said to Mercedes before hitting connect and walking out of the room into the hallway. “Quinn..what’s-“ Broken sobs sounded down the phone line and he frowned. “Quinn...what’s wrong?”

Mercedes:   He seemed opened to having a conversation about them and their marriage and she was glad.  She was going to use this opportunity to lay everything out there for them to discuss.  She even flirted with the idea of telling him about the kiss that meant nothing with Finn.  She wanted to be honest with him, about how she felt when it happened and what it made her realize that she wanted this marriage to last.   “Yes,” she replied only for his words to be cut short by a phone.  She sighed annoyed that he decided to take the call.  It’s not that she wanted to eavesdrop on his conversation but it was more so that she had to know who or what was more important than them deciding their future.  She stood out the way where he couldn’t see back against the wall as she heard he say her name.  Quinn.  She didn’t have an ill feelings towards Quinn but somehow a ping of jealousy hit her.  Mercedes could only pick up bits of the convo but what she heard made her sick to her stomach.  ‘you knew..married...’ came Sam’s voice from the other room.  ‘No I’m not gonna tell her..’ she had heard enough she couldn’t believe this was happening.  She made her way back to the kitchen table willing herself not to cry.

Sam:  Dammit..Quinn was sobbing uncontrollably..and she was pregnant. What a complete clusterfuck. "OK..just calm down..it'll be OK.." he tried to reassure her, grabbing his coat and keys. He'd promised her he wouldn't tell a soul, not even Mercedes and he grimaced at the thought of having to lie to his wife. "I'll be there..give me ten minutes.." he said, cutting the connection. "Hey Cedes..uh..something's come up at work, so I'll have to take a raincheck, babe.." He headed towards the door stopping to plant a kiss, on her forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Mercedes:  wasn’t a fool but at this moment she felt exactly like one.  She did all this planning and preparation trying her best to make things right for her and Sam just to end up looking stupid.  Played.  That’s the word that came to mind.   He played her.  When he came out and kissed she, she didn’t feel anything but betrayal.  The longer she sat there the more viscous her thoughts were.  One second she was grabbing her keys and the next she was out the door and trailing a few cars apart behind Sam.   She knew this was insane but she wanted to know if he was being truthful, especially after hearing the bits of his conversation.  Her heart in her chest as they passed right by his office.  He wasn’t going to work.  In fact a few minutes later he was pulling into a duplex.  She parked across the street a a few cars down, and before he even got out the car Quinn was running out in tears.   Mercedes watched as he consoled the crying blond as her own tears began to fall.  

Sam: Quinn flung herself into his arms as he'd barely gotten out of the car. His arms went around her, his hand rubbing her back, even as his thoughts drifted back to Mercedes, the woman he loved more than life itself. He hated having to leave her, hated even more having to lie, but Quinn had been his friend ever since elementary and they'd been through a lot together. A lot of firsts together-first date, first kiss..first..yeah..a lot of firsts together.. and that kind of history was hard to set aside. "You need to calm down.." he told her, as she cried on his shoulder. "This isn't good for the baby.." She lifted her head up, then stood on her tiptoes, her arms encircling his neck, blonde hair cascading down her back, swollen tear-stained eyes trained on his lips. "Kiss me, Sam..kiss me the way you did before..make me feel it Sammy..please.." she whispered before her lips landed on his.

Mercedes:  didn’t know why she was torturing herself by not driving off.  Once he enveloped Quinn in his arms she should have left and went about her merry way.  Instead now she was watching as he rubbed her back.  He handled her so delicately and the jealousy she felt began to become too much.   This was her own fault.  Had she not been so scared to let him in maybe he wouldn’t be seeking love or affection from other woman.   She held her head low resting it on the steering wheel as she weeped.  He didn’t love her.  She was right about thinking all of the times he showed her some semblance of affection it was purely out of obligation.   Feeling like she’d cried enough she lifted her head just in time to see them kiss.  How could he do this? How could he ruin everything?  What about her and Sammie?  She cranked her ignition pulling out fast as she dialed a number.  “Rachel....” she sobbed.  “I need you.”

Sam: Horrified he pulled back, gently pushing Quinn away and out of his arms. “What the hell, Quinn?! The last time I kissed you was back in high school! We were kids!” Quinn sobbed harder tears streaming across her beautiful face. “ I shouldn’t have let you go back then! If I hadn’t been so dumb we’d still be together and maybe this baby would be ours..” Sam shook his head slowly. “We were never going to last- we were friends, best friends and sure we dated and yeah we kissed and fooled around but it was more a right of passage..” She shook her head wildly, denying his words. �� We split up but I knew we’d get back together..but then you got Mercedes pregnant..and you got stuck with her and a baby..” Sam grasped her shoulders, making her look at him. “Quinn, I get you’re upset. You’re pregnant, alone and scared. But you need to face the truth. You didn’t love me then and you don’t love me now. We were never destined to be together. Yeah, I got her pregnant...and all of you, every last one of you, assumed I was trapped. That I was paying some sort of penance. And that is just not true. I love my wife, Quinn. Always have done, always will. Getting her pregnant was bad luck- not because it meant we were trapped but because it limited her options. But here’s the thing- back in high school, back before Sammie, I vowed I was going to do whatever it took to win her. That there was no future in which she wasn’t with me.” He could see the shock in Quinn’s eyes as she assimilated what he was telling her. “ You love Mercedes...I..we..always thought that...I mean Sam, I liked her, still do...I just..thought you guys were together for Sammie..I saw the way you were with her, and I thought..I wanted that for me..I’m so selfish..” her face crumpled, hands flying to cover it. “You’re upset and I get that. But you need to talk to Mike. You love Mike, Quinn and trying to move on with someone else is just going to end in disaster, You knew he was married- yeah, he’s damn miserable with Kitty but married all the same. For the record, it wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t have been in love with Mercedes. My answer would still be no. Marriage is something I take incredibly seriously..” She threw herself into his arms, completely heartbroken. “Mike’a never going to leave her, she’ll never let him..” Sam shrugged, not knowing how Mike would react. “ He might surprise you..One thing I do know, Mike loves you. The way I love Mercedes. And that kind of thing can’t be dismissed...Just hang in there, things will work out, the way they’re meant to..you’ll see.” His thoughts went to his wife- he had to do something..the last ten years had been a rocky ride sure, full of ups and downs, but he was also incredibly grateful he’d gotten to live it with her. Maybe..maybe it was time to tell her exactly how he felt.