#they missed each other so much & kept in contact by sending letters

[intercomkris]

october 13th 1995 : georgina liu, jennifer clifton bestfriends forever! since the 1980s - jaime's diary from sixth grade 🧸✏️

[campingwiththecharmings]

hi baby<3 can i please have a uhhhh “next time we get into an argument, i’m reminding you that i took your virginity” WITH A LARGE SIDE OF SANTI PLEASE OH MY GOFFJKNKJFN

Long Time Coming

AN: Thanks for sending this in, Hads. And thanks also for being so patient with me lol. I struggled a little with this prompt for some reason, but I hope you still enjoy what I ended up with. ❤️

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,950 Pairing: Santiago Garcia x F!Reader Warnings: p in v, praise kink (if you squint), a little angst, a dash of inner turmoil, overuse of italics, probably too much softness but i'm a sap so 🤷‍♀️ AO3

——————

Your breath stalls in your chest when you see him, body stiffening, eyes widening in surprise.  

“Santi?”  

He shifts awkwardly on his boot-clad feet, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He’s older than you remember, but it’s definitely him—those deep, brown eyes, tight curls, full lips, chiseled jaw. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, the look in his eyes hesitant but hopeful. 

You twist your lips, crossing your arms over your chest as anger flares in your belly. You’d been best friends growing up, pretty much inseparable. So when he’d joined the military a week after high school graduation, you’d been understandably gutted. You’d tried to be supportive, knew this was his best chance of getting out of this shithole of a town, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was abandoning you. Maybe it was silly, but you’d always assumed you’d eventually end up together, maybe married, maybe not, but together nonetheless. The idea of losing him, of losing that future was difficult to deal with.  

Him confessing his love to you the night before he was set to leave didn’t help matters. Especially when you’d told him you felt the same. 

He’d kissed you, his hands cupping your cheeks almost reverently, like you were the most precious thing he’d ever touched, and you’d melted into each other, an awkward tangle of lips and hands and teeth. He’d admitted afterward that you were his first, something you’d found hard to believe given how flirtatious he always was. You can still recall the faint flush of his cheeks when he’d said, “Yeah well, the only one I wanted was…you.” 

Needless to say, neither of you had gotten much sleep. 

The memory of that night had gotten you through the many long stretches of time apart that followed. You’d kept in touch as much as possible, writing letters and emails and talking over the phone. He’d come home to you a few times, warming your bed for a week or two before shipping out again and starting the cycle over. You’d dreamed of a day when he’d stay, when he’d come back and never leave, when he’d finally be yours. 

Sadly, that day had never come.  

It had happened slowly, responses to your emails and letters taking longer and longer, scheduled calls being rescheduled or missed completely, until they just…stopped all together. You’d panicked, thought that something had happened to him, thought he’d been killed in action, but no one would tell you anything because you “weren’t family.” You’d held out hope for months, hope that’d he’d call, that he’d write, that he’d come home to you. But he hadn’t. 

Until now. 

You’re not sure how he’d found you; you’d left your childhood home years ago, and had moved around quite a bit since, just searching for a place to belong. You’d finally settled on this place a few months ago, the quaint little town making you feel at peace for the first time in ages. 

Seeing him takes you back, back to the place you were before, to the place where you’d lost him, to the place where he’d left you without a second thought. 

Ignoring the part of you that is elated at his sudden, unannounced reappearance, you say, “I thought you were dead.” 

He winces at your bluntness but maintains eye contact. “I can explain…if you’ll let me.” 

You glare at him, the pain you’d felt all those years ago, the pain you thought you’d overcome, rearing its ugly head and stabbing you in the chest like a knife. When you don’t say anything, he sighs, stepping closer.  

“I’m so sorry, cariño.” 

You swallow hard, willing the tears welling in your eyes not to fall. After a moment you blink, looking away and inhaling shakily. 

“Come in,” you say flatly, stepping to the side so he can slip in past you. 

After grabbing you both a drink, you settle on the couch where he tells you about how right before he lost contact with you, he was recruited for this special ops team and they told him that he couldn’t tell anyone about it, that he couldn’t have any communication with the outside world. He’d made the mistake of thinking this was only during missions and was devastated when he’d discovered it wasn’t. He tells you he’s thought of you every single day, sick with guilt over the fact that he hadn’t been able to tell you where he was, what he was doing, that he was even alive. When he’d finally gotten out (and he was out, for good, he says), he’d gone home, hoping that you’d still be there, hoping you’d let him explain. He’d been gutted when they’d told him you left. 

You ask him how he found you and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck and mumbling something about calling in a few favors. You nod, unsure what to say, unsure what to do. You want him, God do you want him. For years, you’ve been trying to forget about him, to move on, but no one has ever made you feel the way he did….the way he does. When you meet his eyes again, you know he feels the same. 

“Do you remember that night? The one right before I left?” he asks, leaning closer as he sets his empty glass beside yours on the coffee table. 

Emotions swirl inside you as the memories come flooding back—the awkward tangle of limbs as you’d torn at each other’s clothing, the desperation you’d felt, the need. You nod, swallowing thickly. 

“I think about that night all the time,” he rasps, a soft, nostalgic smile forming on his lips. 

His eyes are unfocused, as if he’s reliving that memory now, just as you had only moments ago. He looks so soft, like the man you remember, the one that you’d fallen for all those years ago. You still love him, you never stopped, and now that he’s here with you again…all you want is to start over. 

Unable to help yourself, you lean in, tentatively pressing your lips to his. His body stills, limbs going rigid, and you almost pull away, but then he sighs in relief, his breath shaky as he kisses you back, hard. His hands cup your cheeks, holding your face to his as he devours your mouth, his tongue hot as it slides against yours. You moan, your fingers fumbling with the hem of his shirt. He lets you pull it over his head, immediately reclaiming your mouth as you toss it somewhere behind you. Your shirt is next, thumping lightly as it hits the floor beside his. His hands rove over every inch of exposed skin and you arch into it, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. It’s clumsy, much like that night, and you can’t help the smile you press against his lips at the thought. 

You both rush to divest each other of your remaining clothing, giggling when Santi trips as he steps out of his pants. He lays you on the couch, covering your naked body with his, arms braced on either side of your head. He pauses as he settles over you, his warm eyes greedily roving your face. 

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning in and nuzzling his nose against yours. 

Something settles in your chest, something warm, something light, and you smile, reaching up to comb your fingers through his salt and pepper curls. He leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure. 

“I love you too, Santi,” you breathe, right before you pull his mouth back to yours. 

He smiles against your lips, his mouth sliding languidly over yours. You sigh at the feel of his skin against yours, at the comforting weight of him on top of you. This, right here, right now, this moment with him, it feels more like home than any other place you’ve ever been. Maybe those sayings were right, maybe home isn’t a place, but a person. Tears well in your eyes at the thought and you will them not to fall. Santi’s groan is broken as he pushes inside you, his cock stretching you, filling you better than anyone else ever could—like he was made for you, and you were made for him. 

You moan, arching into him as he buries his face in your neck, his muscles tight as he stills, trying desperately to pull himself together. It was like this that first night too, you remember. He’d been so keyed up, so lost in you, he’d almost come the moment he slipped inside your warmth. You smile, rubbing his back soothingly, wordlessly telling him it’s okay (because you know he’s stressing right now).  

He relaxes not long after, the tension in his body lessening as he grinds into you, pulling your leg higher around his waist. You moan as he somehow slips in even further, shivering as his cock bumps against your cervix. He groans when you flutter around him, his mouth finding yours against as he pushes and pulls, taking you both higher and higher. It’s soft and it’s slow, all the emotions you’d thought you’d buried long ago swirling like a hurricane in your head, in your heart. They’re so strong, you can’t help the tears that begin to fall, slipping out and winding down your cheeks as you and Santi cling to one another. 

You fall over the edge together, so wrapped up and lost in each other you no longer know where he begins and you end. Finally, after all these years, you feel whole, feel complete.

Later, after a much-needed nap (followed by more sex), you order take out and settle back onto the couch. You’re curled into his side, clad only in his shirt (him in his boxers) as you share a carton of lo mein, chuckling as he stuffs a ridiculous amount of noodles into his mouth. He smiles at you with puffy cheeks and you laugh again, cleaning the corners of his mouth off with your thumb. You still can’t believe he’s here with you, that he’s staying.  

Santi catches the look in your eyes and he softens, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You kiss him back, humming at the taste of him. When you pull away, he presses his forehead to yours, your breaths mingling. 

The carton of lo mein is in your lap and you frown when you notice it looks lower than you’d realized. 

“Santi, you ate all the noodles,” you pout, pulling back enough to shoot him a half-hearted glare. 

He bites his lip, eyes guiltily flicking down to the mostly empty container before meeting yours again. 

“We had Chinese that first night too, didn’t we?” he rasps, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

You snort, shaking your head. “That’s not gonna work every time, you know.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says airily, clearly fighting back a smile. 

You raise an eyebrow, smirking at him. “Fine. The next time we get into an argument, I’m reminding you that I took your virginity.” 

His eyes darken a little, running his tongue slowly over his bottom lip. He’s silent for a moment, then reaches for another carton on the coffee table. He holds it up between you, as if it’s an offering and you take it with a smile. 

“Good boy, Garcia,” you say with a smirk, eyeing him teasingly as you crack open another carton of noodles, “Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Later, he makes you pay for that comment (“How’s this for a trick, cariño.”)

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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[the-amber-fox]

Young Royals Fic Rec List 2023

The holidays are coming early for this lovely fandom. I present you my favourite fanfics from this year to tide us all over until season 3.

Canon / Missing Moments

a running start (T) by This_time_its_just_me It’s so surreal to see him standing here in the Palace, in the Royal apartments where Wille had grown up through all the good and the bad of his life. It’s an image he couldn't have imagined, not in the sheer unremarkable and yet truly remarkable way it feels in reality. Sure he’d conjured up images of him, ghosts of memories and fantasies tangled together in a love-sick teenager's ache of loss. However, this is him here, pragmatic and tangible and real and it’s just difficult to wrap his mind around it.

Post Canon (maybe)

The equation of you Whiterabbit11 Simon is hurt and unconscious at the local hospital. Rosh watches, Ayub sleeps, and Wille is not happy.

All my loving (I will send to you) (M) @pagegirlintraining „Especially now that they’d been happily dating again for nearly ten months, Simon could’ve easily just teased Wille about being a drama queen and then kissed the pout off his lips. He didn’t, though. Instead, he kept staring at Wille’s handwriting, usually scrawly but now tidy and precise, feeling his heart slowly break for the sad, lonely boy who’d written and never sent this letter all those months ago.”

Baby, We Are Front-Page News (M) Ripki When Wille says, it was me, in front of the whole school – in front of the whole world – Simon feels simultaneously light with joy and leaden with trepidation. Once again, he is suddenly thrust from obscurity into spotlight, from normalcy into absurdity. He is certain though that together he and Wille can face anything. However, that is soon put to test, when a hurtful article about Simon hits the press.

no need for verbier (NR) starrystoryteller simon finds out about verbier

Fix Its

The daisy follows soft the sun (G) @romanticalrj Simon has two dark red seeds inked into his skin just below his belly button. He has always had them. He doesn’t remember a time when he looked into the mirror and that pair of burgundy seeds weren’t staring back at him. To Simon, the marks are an obligation. He doesn’t ever want to be tied to someone in this irreversible, caging way. But, as in most things in his life, Simon doesn’t get a choice. The seeds sit and sit on his belly for years, ignored and hidden and resented.

AUs

Ivy (M) unfortunate17 Wilhelm raises his eyebrows as well. “Pirate Captain Simon Eriksson.” He watches as Simon swallows, stepping forward to set the coins down on the countertop. He still smells like the ocean, Wilhelm notes vaguely, like sunshine and sea-salt. Ayub looks between the two of them, alarm twisting across his features until Wille sighs. “I’m not here to arrest anyone.”

obviously (M) grapehyasynth In their final year of secondary school, Simon and Wille find themselves entering a potent, secret relationship that threatens to upend both their lives. It can't last, but neither can they stop being a part of each other's lives. Over the next few years, even as everything around them changes, even as they hurt and lose each other, they keep finding themselves drawn together. Normal People AU.

Can you see me now? (T) kimmeke wilhelm needs eye surgery and has no one to help him with his recovery. he turns to his only option left: his next door neighbor simon

You're Still the One (M) queerfrogprince Simon and Wille meet on tumblr as teenagers, but when they lose contact, Simon doesn't think he'll ever hear from Wille again, much less bump into him in a supermarket in Stockholm one random afternoon. It's been five years, after all. He barely even thinks about Wille anymore. But, it seems, Wille never stopped thinking about him. Maybe it's not too late to rekindle what they had at fifteen, after all.

Hetero of the Year @girls-are-weird Prince Wilhelm is nominated for the Hetero of the Year award at the QX Gay Gala. In response, he freaks out. Simon, his popstar friend who's been pining for him for the better part of a year, worries this might mean Wille's secretly homophobic. After all, what other reason could there be for him to get so upset?

Slightly unhinged - but so worth it

Sorry this is awkward, I didn’t mean to airdrop that to you (T) @piebingo Wille accidentally airdrops his own fanfiction to a stranger in the library. (Written for the yr week 2023, the prompt of day 2: Alternate Meeting)

fighting dragons with you (T) burntromacesea “You have another knight in shining armor come to rescue you from my evil clutches and my murderous dragon,” Simon comments blandly, handing his husband a cup of coffee, “he should be here by this afternoon.” https://archiveofourown.org/works/45092605

Simon-Appreciation-Posts (T) DrogonTheDragon Wille didn't mean for it to blow up as it did. He didn’t.  … or Wille makes a secret Simon Eriksson fan account and it gets a lot more attention than he intended.

Of Dinosaurs, Unicorns and the Perfect Proposal (G) @groenendaelfic Five-year-old Wilhelm steals his Mamma’s engagement ring to propose to Simon. Linda questions her life choices.

E - Rated

One, two, three, four, five, sex on my mind (E) pagegirlintraining, TheAmberFox When Wille first sees Simon, the rest of the world simply fades away. Which would be romantic and all, if it didn’t lead to him blindly stumbling into the sex shop Simon works at. Once he figures out his mistake, it’s already too late. But Wille wouldn’t be Wille if he let that stop him from pursuing the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. If only things didn’t keep getting in the way of his plans…

Fuck the Monarchy (E) itsme_hi_imtheproblem Simon and Wille get stuck with each other when they both intern at the riksdag. Wille is intent to just get this dreaded thing over with. Simon can't believe he of all people has to work not only with an old conservative but with the literal prince. Both are surprised by the inexplicable and inevitable pull they feel towards each other.

say my name, say it loud (E) margosfairyeye (Skittery) The argument scene in the locker room in s02e04, but this time there's sex. (inspired by how much I thought there was going to be a spicy scene when I saw Simon come out in that towel)

Three Floors Down (E) emerybemery Simon hates how he can’t keep his eyes off Wille whenever he sees him. He hates how Wille seems to stare back at him with a borderline intoxicating intensity.

A Marvellous Time Ruining Everything @earlgrey-lateatnight Henry accidentally witnesses an intimate moment between Wille and Simon. How will they deal with the fallout?

The darker stuff Watch out for the trigger warnings and tags.

when you find me, let me in (G) paintersong Simon winced with guilt as Wille’s wide eyes traced his laptop. “Crown Prince Wilhelm Denies Involvement in Viral Sex Video” glared back, and Wille blinked, stepping away from the screen, away from Simon, away from the sting of betrayal.

Everybody loves you now (M) lc2l International pop sensation Simme has announced on Instagram that he will be celebrating the end of his sold out world tour with five consecutive shows in Stockholm starting TONIGHT and running through the week. This will be his first extended stay in Sweden in four years, since he graduated from high school and flew to L.A. to sign a record deal. And what is Wilhelm supposed to do with that.

In Another Life (E) @ungaroyals Wilhelm never returned to Hillerska after winter break, and he has spent his entire life regretting it. Nearly a decade later, he runs into Simon. He had hoped he'd successfully moved on from his feelings after all these years, but clearly, he was wrong. The two spend a passionate night together, expecting it to be their last. That is until it happens a second time when the two come arrangement that suits both their needs. Friends with benefits? No, they'd have to actually be friends for that to be the case. So this is it for this year. I must confess I did not have time to read everything. So if you have things that are missing in this list put them in the comments please. I also don't know everyones tumblr, so feel free to share with your mutuals.

The list from 2022 you can find here

[ros3kill3r]

angsty & regulus’ death || the letter barty received from his ex-lover || part 6 of 8

~*~*~*~*~*~

~*Barty Crouch Junior*~

Everything felt normal. Fine. It was a day like all the others recently. It was a day with just Evan, lounging around in an abandoned living room in an abandoned house, and drinking not abandoned alcohol. Well, it was a normal day, until Evan had said something quite true; Regulus’ star was dim. It wasn’t there. It was gone, almost vanished. He had looked away for one second, and it had disappeared.

Evan had said that something was wrong, that they should contact Regulus. The idea seemed right, that that’s what they should do, so they did. Evan had sent Regulus a letter, and they had waited. He would usually reply to them–or Evan, at least–as quickly as he could. And Barty appeared right. There was the owl, swooping down and below the rustling trees and headed straight for the dark haired male sitting in front of the open window.

Evan’s brows had furrowed, he had expected the owl to flap its wings towards him, not his boyfriend. Said boyfriend let out a laugh, “See? I’ve always been his favorite.” And he had earned a slap on the nape of his neck. “Whatever Bee, I’m heading out to get more alcohol. Tell me what he wrote when I come back.” And the blonde boy had slipped from the room.

Barty took a big inhale from the cigarette hanging from his lips. The letter being sent to him was weird, he knew that much. Regulus got a letter from Evan, not Barty. So why on earth was there a letter sent for him? The owl had been pecking on his leg for the past minute, so Barty had untied the letter, and shooed the bird away.

He hesitated when opening the letter. He finished his cigarette, then grabbed another one, and another. And finally, he had decided to open the message. It just didn’t seem right. But in all honesty, nothing is right with the Black family, was it? So, he had picked on the stamped wax with his nail, and peeled it open. His brows scrunched together, he pulled out the sloppily folded paper inside, and placed the envelope on the table near him.

His hand flopped down onto his lap, and he sighed heavily, rubbing the spot in the crease of his eyes with his fingers. Leaning back against the bottom of the couch, he unfolded the letter, hesitated once again, glanced at the door in the hopes of Evan coming back, and when accepting the fact that he wasn’t, he returned his attention back to the yellowed paper, and he read.

______________________

08/01/79

Dear Mr. Obnoxious,

If you have received this letter, I am dead. I have told Kreacher to send out all of my letters if I don’t make it back. In all honesty, I always knew I wouldn’t make it back, but I foolishly kept my hopes up. I kept my hopes up that if I went on just a day longer, things would change. But they didn’t. To make sure you read this letter, I have sent an owl to accompany it and bring it to the receiver.

This new thing you have going on with Evan is important, and was needed for the both of you. I didn’t know what to start this letter with, so I might as well say what was on my mind first. Spend as much time with him as you can, Bat, you’ll need it. I don’t mean to scare you, or startle you, and I know this is all so sudden, but this has been planned for a while now. No, this is not suicide, this was a plan gone wrong.

I already miss you all. It hasn’t even been a month without you all but I still miss you. I’ve spended as long as I could with each of you, but it still wasn’t enough. How is Evan? Pandora? Dorcas? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had no news on Cas. She hasn’t been replying to my letters either.

Don’t tell me you’re still drinking alcohol like a damn alcoholic. Seriously Bartemius, it’ll cause your death to be sooner not later. Anyway, Kreacher must’ve sent a separate letter for Evan, the owl should be flying its way to you both as you're reading this.

Thank you for everything B, seriously. I know I never said it as much, but I really do love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed, and I’m sorry that I made your feelings so much harder for yourself. I had to work on myself Barty, my identity. And at the time I thought you didn’t like men. But now you have Evan, and he loves you so much. Don’t ruin it. Don’t ruin what you both have.

I’ll always treasure you in my heart, I’ll always treasure our memories, and the times we had shared our secrets, and the smiles and laughter, and your stupidly hilarious jokes. I’ll treasure every ounce of you, and I’m sorry it had to end this way. I’m sorry I never got to apologize in person.

Our little group has always been and always will until the end, never forget that. There’s one wish I have for you before I end this off, show them respect. James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, every single one of them. Thank you for everything, Crouch. I’ll see you soon, yeah?

Forever and always, and don’t get ahead of yourself.

R.A.B.

______________________

Frozen. Empty. Cold. Numb. He felt numb, he felt frozen, he felt cold, and he felt empty. He’s dead? He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s gone? Gone.

All the moments they shared, all the times they had bonded over their darkest trauma, all the times they had bursted into the dorms and seen each other crying, all the times they had comforted each other, all the times Barty had held himself back when seeing James and Regulus together, all the times Regulus had spent the night with him and left the next morning, all those times. And no more of those times.

What now? What after this? What does he do without Regulus? Reg? Reggie? What does he do? What will Evan do? What will Pandora do? What will they all do? How will he live without him?

Is it bad that he feels this way? Is this considered cheating on Evan? His Rose? Shit, how will his Rosie feel? Is he going to get a letter? Where is his letter?

He zoned in at the written ‘R.A.B.’ signed at the end of the note. His fingers struggled with the cigarette box, eventually managing to take out a cigar and shakily place it between his lips, lighting it up with a flickering lighter and taking a deep inhale. He closed his eyes. Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath. Evan. Breath. Breath. Breath. Evan. Evan. Evan. I need you.

The downstairs door slammed open, and Barty knew it was him. He knew. So he stood up, cigar falling from his lips, and without stubbing it out with the sole of his shoe, he walked numbly down the hallway, and stood above the stairs. “Junior?” Evan called, and he stepped into view several beats later.

He was carrying multiple packs of beer, and it was clear he was calling for help, but Barty remained silent above the staircase. He couldn’t feel his voice, he couldn’t call for him, nothing would work. His body was barely functioning, and he still couldn’t feel his fingers when Evan turned around in concern after no sound coming from his lover.

The blonde’s brows relaxed as he spotted Barty on the top step, but the two remained quiet. Evan–the lovely man that he is–could tell that Barty wasn’t right. Something had happened. So he dropped the beer and made his way up the steps. Barty didn’t break eye contact with him, his heart hammering or slowing down in his chest, he couldn’t tell. But Evan was right there, in front of him, and his eyes were filled with concern, and worry.

“Barty? What happened?” He spoke in a whisper, hand raising to the other man’s cheek. Nothing was uttered. Evan inhaled deeply and stepped into the open room.

All those memories, all those times, and all those moments. Gone, in a blink of an eye. So sudden, so surprising, Barty couldn’t believe it. He could hear Evan pick up the letter, he could hear his footsteps as he read and paced the room, and he could hear him stop. He heard the way the letter was slammed down onto the counter, he heard the way his Rose’s breathing began to fasten, and he finally turned around to face the doorway.

He was leaning against the couch, knuckles white and tears rolling down his cheeks. “Fuck.” he hissed, head whipping around to look at Barty. They stared at each other in silence, Barty’s complexion unsettling.

And finally, finally, Barty cried. He let out a harsh sob, face still stoic, but he broke down. On his knees he fell, and the burry blob of Evan had approached him. He joined him on the floor as he wailed for the loss of his best friend. Practically his family, and he was gone. “I know darling, I’m here, I’m here Bee.” Evan cried, wrapping the younger man in his arms for comfort.

“So quick,” Barty choked, “I wasn’t prepared.” And all Evan could do was let out a cry as he buried his face in the crevice of Barty’s neck.

There was a hoot near the window, and it had caught Barty’s attention. “Evan,” He rasped, and Evan had combed his hand through the young man's hair in reply. “Window.”

Evan turned his neck to his left, and spotted the glowing eyes of the owl on the sill, its hooting audible even through the billows of the wind. Regulus’ owl.

With a letter, presumably for Evan, this time.

16 years later, Barty Crouch Jr. got ahead of himself, and so had his insanity.

And he couldn’t remember his Rose.

~*~*~*~*~*~

[hikarry]

In the 1800's, if you wanted to contact someone, you had these handy little things called "letters" that you would write with pen and paper, stuff it into an envelope and send it through the mail. Most of them arrived at their destination, but not all. Accidents happen. Parcels get lost.

But even before the 1800s, for many many centuries at that, an angel and a demon exchanged correspondence frequently. Most of them filled with code words that would be but a string of nonsense in case someone intercepted them. All in the name of strategy. If the wrong eyes landed on those writing, they would be way more than just "in trouble". They would be utterly fucked. So secrecy was key and had been since around 1020 when the Arrangement began.

Even with the danger looming over him, the angel couldn't help but keep some of the letters his correspondent sent him through the millenia, all of them now stuffed into two drawers of his desk in his bookshop. The spidery and pointy handwriting was clearly different from his and, if found, they would arouse certain suspicion, but he just couldn't help himself from time to time. It was either because of a word, a sentiment. A letter after they've seen each other with a joke or something surely unintentionally poetic. He couldn't burn those. He didn't dare.

The angel was used to hear from the demon at least once a month for the last roughly 8 centuries. But, suddenly, that steady flow was cut after a confrontation in St. James Park at the end of the century. For almost a century, the angel got the fine amount of 0 letters from the one he expected to hear from the most. Yes, one of the last things he had told his companion was that he didn't need him, but that wasn't quite true now, was it? Truthfully, he didn't NEED him, per se, but he wanted him around. He missed him for as much as he tried to distract himself with his new human companions.

For the first 2 decades after the incident, the angel was still upset over the whole argument, so he forced himself to go out and meet new people. His ink and papers only used for reports to Heaven or other matters to do with the bookshop. And one Oscar Wilde.

But soon his result started to waver. He started questioning if everything was alright with the demon. If something had happened to him these past decades. He found his mind wandering towards the demon more and more often.

Around 1890, the angel sat on his desk, got hold of some paper and a pen, and started writing. That first letter was a long one. About 3 pages. A lot of time had passed by, and he had a lot to say. Yet, when he put down the pen, he put the paper inside an envelope and burned it.

He was being a fool. If the demon wanted to regain contact, he would have reached out by now. He was probably busy being a menace to society, causing chaos and mayhem and fraternizing with whatever friends he apparently had. He didn't need Aziraphale. So Aziraphale didn't need him.

That train of thought fed him for 3 more years. In 1893, his mind started plaguing him again, and before he knew it, he once again sat at the desk, a letter half written in front of him in his pristine handwriting. This time, when he finished, he stuffed the letter in a random drawer of his desk and pretended nothing whatsoever had happened. But then he wrote another. And another. And another.

Suddenly, it was 1915, and he had a whole box of unsent letters. With the war igniting in Europe, his worry grew. He had been sent to France as a medic to help the Ally troops and report on the state of humanity to Heaven. The Lord knew where Crowley could be. Maybe back in England, completely removed from this situation. Or maybe on the other side of the fence, wearing a German uniform by Hell's command, dodging bullets, and starving in the trenches - not that he needed to eat.

Aziraphale kept writing letters and started sending some of them to Crowley's flat back in London, but he did not once get a response. His spirit tried to convince him it was because the demon still didn't want contact, but his gut pushed him to imagine more dire reasons.

The war eventually ended, and, back in London, Aziraphale kept writing and sending some of the letters. At the start of 1919, the letters started returning to him, impossible to be delivered. He tried 4 letters, and every single one returned to his address with a stamp of "No Reception" in red across the desired address. Again, his mind started coming up with less than ideal scenario: the best of them was that Crowley had left London or England entirely and moved somewhere else. The worst was the scenario of discorporation. If that had happened, God only knew how long it would take for Crowley to get a new corporation. Heavens, maybe he had been called back to Hell all together, and he wasn't coming back. And the last thing the angel had told him was that he didn't need him. What an idiot.

Aziraphale finally stopped writing. It wasn't worth it without knowing where Crowley was.

By the time the Second World War began, he was feeling rather more lonely and adrift than he imagined he ever would. To keep his mind occupied, he joined forced with the Secret Services to catch some group of Nazis that was reigning avoc in the streets of London, leaving trails of corpses behind. That operation left him with very little time to think or wonder.

Never in a million years, he would have expected to see the demon again sauntering down a church's isle, coming to his rescue. Much less for them to fall so easily into their normal banter as if the last century of silence hadn't happened whatsoever.

Crowley was alive. In London. Sitting next to him as they drank Châteauneuf-du-Pape at candle light. It almost felt absurd.

"I wrote to you." Aziraphale found the courage to murmur, glass of wine a few centimeters from his lips.

"Ah. Yeah. I know." The demon took a large sip of his drink, finishing the glass and reaching out for the bottle to top it again.

"You never returned them."

Crowley was silent for a while, watching the wine as it filled his glass.

"I was sleeping."

The angel almost felt like laughing. Right. It wasn't the first time he had pulled one of those long naps. The 14th century came to mind.

"At some point they started returning to me without being delivered."

Crowley moved on his seat, somewhat uncomfortable.

"I woke up in 1914. A few months after the war began. Joined the British Intelligence."

"You're still in the British Intelligence." The demon nodded. "Don't they find it weird you don't age?"

"Nah, they think Anthony J. Crowley is Anthony Crowley's son. That's why I added the J."

Aziraphale hummed, taking a sip of his drink.

"That still doesn't explain why the letters returned."

"At the end of the war, I had to change flats. I would guess that's why."

Silence fell between them, both looking down at their respective glasses.

"So...you did see the letters when you woke up in 1914."

"...I did." Aziraphale nodded. His question quite obvious. "I read them. All of them. Took them with me to the new flat. They are hidden in a box in one of the kitchen cabinets behind some bottles of Sherry." Crowley was rambling, trying to avoid the real question. They both knew that. "...you had 60 years to process what happened. I was sleeping. When I woke up, it was like it all had happened yesterday." He tapped his fingers on the table. "I didn't know what to say. What to think. I wasn't ready." Slowly, he slid his hand through the table, getting closer to Aziraphale's hand. Almost touching. "I'm sorry." Those words were surely new on his vocabulary. Maybe they were more drunk than Aziraphale thought.

"Why now?"

Crowley chuckled, taking his hand away to hold his glass once again.

"I heard through the grapevine about a Soho bookseller wrapped around some Nazi business. I don't know if you've noticed, but, at the moment, you are the only bookseller in Soho." The demon took his eyes away from the wine and finally looked at the angel, meeting his eyes already looking back. "As I said, I didn't want to see you embarrassing yourself."

Aziraphale offered him a soft smile.

"Are you sure I can't thank you for the timely rescue?"

"Better not."

Letters stopped being necessary. Now, there were these crafty things called telephones, and they exchanged numbers. The regular meetings started up again, up until the early 60s, but that's a story for another time.

[vesselsscarlet]

Lovely of you two to host such a gift for Vessel! Just for clarification, when you say the Vessel book project result will be shown, you won't be showing any specific letter entries, right? Will those be kept private? On that sort-of same note, is there not a more anonymous way of sending in a letter submission? Is there consideration for a submission form, or would a dud/alt account to send it in on either platform be fine for this purpose? Of course nothing bad would be written, I'm just a tad anxious about sharing my thoughts. I also have been unsuccessful in getting a PDF to send via Tumblr DMs unless I save it as an alternate image file, so I'm not sure if that's what you meant in the post, or if I'm missing something? Apologies for the many questions!

Hi lovely anon.

Merry Christmas to you!

Thank you very much for this sweet compliment, we are already in the next step.

Of course, there won't be any details shown, we value your privacy.

Except, someone really wants to show off their page, you will receive your personal page(s) privately, so you will see, what we made out of your stuff.

Regarding submitting your contribitions anonymously,

This is a bit difficult since we want him to know his fans. You can add an alias, or you can add a certain letter. But we need something where we can contact you in case something goes wrong with your submission.

Since we are working from two different cities on it (and we are living kind of far away from each other), it is important to have your contact details (discord, tumblr username etc.) ready.

I can offer you that we can work on a solution together, if this isn't enough efford, we would like to work with you. You don't have to be anxious but I can offer you that we can work on this together, so I can give you feedback and stuff, whatever you need to be comfortable.

I added my discord (vesselsscarlet) but in case you don't have discord, we will open a separate E-Mail account, just for this project, otherwise it will be very hard to receive everything. The Tumblr direct was actually meant for digital artworks and questions.

So yeah, I hope that helps. If you still have questions, feel free to drop a message/ask. x

Best wishes,

Lia

[4awny]

Kyman Week Day 6 - First Trip

As Eric Cartman.

June 12th. Aged 42. A Thursday. This was the day of my release. 

Let's just address the elephant in the room first. It was second degree murder and I got 20 years. Due to good behaviour, I was out in 15. Coming off my medication was my biggest downfall and none of it would have happened if I just listened to people and got the help I needed.

I still think the guy deserved it, that's something I'll never submit to. I did it for Kyle, but I was also a danger to him too. Prison was inevitable.

He often came to visit. We talked everyday and he was this beacon of hope that got me through the first few years.

Prison wasn't so bad for me. I was terrified at first, but as time went on, I felt a sense of belonging there. I met people who were just like me, people who thought the same way I did. People void of emotions, people that were selfish, people that used others for their own gain. Psychopaths, narcissists. You name it, they were there. I kept clear from them.

It made me realize that I wasn't there to serve my time and be done with it. I was there to be rehabilitated.

After my second year, I cut ties with Kyle. 

He was completely devastated. I refused visits, made zero calls and couldn't bring myself to read his letters. After the fourth year, he stopped sending them. I think it probably broke him.

It wasn't fair holding him back anymore. I couldn't expect him to wait for me and I just wanted him to move on. It was the right thing to do and I have no regrets making that decision.

I befriended a few weirdos. Found a new faith. Lost weight, gained it back. Made connections. I still thought about him. Everyday I thought about him. 

As I approached my tenth year, I got the news that an old friend passed away. I was heartbroken. They buried him in South Park cemetery, where mom is. I still miss them both.

The later years were tough. Things started to change in there and I was struggling to cope. I came close to calling Kyle on so many occasions, but I always ended up disconnecting the call when I heard an answer. I only wanted to hear his voice. He has no idea how much it helped me.

Then one day, after around the year twelve mark, I heard a different voice. I hung up quickly, distraught. Desperation kicked in, like an old habit. I spent the next few months calling frequently and I didn't stop until I heard Kyle's voice again. Relief, because it became an obsession and I was doing so well up until that point. I broke the chip and tossed the phone for my own sanity. I promised myself that I wouldn't contact him again.

I got an early release, which I wasn't expecting. I said goodbye to home and before I knew it, I'm walking through the doors to freedom.

I'll cut the boring details. Two years go by and I got a car, an apartment and a job. I had a girlfriend too at one point, but it didn't work out. I broke it off, but she was also pregnant, so we remained friends.

The anniversary of Kenny's death came around, so I went to the cemetery to pay my respects. Just when I started to pray, I heard my name being called.

I turned around immediately and there he was, standing opposite me with flowers in his hand. He was just as stunned as I was and neither of us said anything for a few moments. I didn't have my glasses on, but his face was as clear as day.

His hair was shorter, he had a beard and the color was less vibrant than what I remember - more faded. My knees almost buckled over. He ran over to me and we crashed into each other. I silently sobbed into his shoulder and I couldn't let go.

"You'll be fine, everything's gonna be okay." He told me. He always knew what to say.

He took me to a diner and we stayed in there for hours, talking. I told him I had a daughter on the way. He didn't attempt to hide the surprised look on his face, but then he blurted out that he was divorced and I laughed hysterically.

It was so fucking typical of him.

He was curious to see where I lived, so he came home with me. We went the long way back, whatever that meant because it was only a ten minute drive. I think he just wanted to remind me of all the memories we shared together. Reminiscing, like old men.

I consider this our first trip together. Call it a trip down memory lane. My next and final story is where it ends.

6 / 7

Prev / Next

You'll be fine - ao3 for notes and shit

dayum im 5 mins late today 😭 whoops

[brknmnds]

@gareththegreat Frankie/Gareth/Violet

It had been a few months since Violet had been back in Hawkins. She had been busy living her dream life, travelling and modelling around America and Europe. She kept in contact with her brother, sending postcards and letters and talking on the phone whenever she got a free chance.

She had a 3 month break before heading to Italy for a fashion show, so decided to spend it back home. She hadn't told anyone. Not wanting to deal with her parents fussing over her and dealing with them trying to get her to settle down and marry plus she wanted to spend as much time with Frankie as possible before they found out.

It didn't take long for her to get into the Hideout, knowing that her brother was currently working. She watched him from a distance as he served and talked to a guy, that she was sure they went to Hawkins with. She let out a hum and walked over to him, leaning on the bar next to the young man as she tried to remember his name.

" You grew your hair out, it suits you." She spoke up causing Frankie's head to flick up and a smile graced his face before he jogged out from behind the bar and hugged her.

" And you dyed your hair pink." He let out a laugh and they grinned at each other. "I've missed you Vi."

[anticomedygarden]

until we came to leningrad

title taken from billy joel's 'leningrad'

-

The second time in her life Piper McLean saw Percy Jackson was at Camp Jupiter when he was 16 and she was 15 after months of work trying to find him. 

There was something to be said in him running to Annabeth immediately, something that she adored immensely, but there was also something to be said in the look on his face when he realized who Piper was. 

“Piper McLean?!” he exclaimed, face slack. 

She spread her arms. “In the flesh!” She smiled. 

“Wow!” He ran the fingers of the hand not holding on to Annabeth’s through his hair. “I was starting to think I’d never see you again.” Next to him, Annabeth smiled. Piper knew she was nearly as excited to see her boyfriend’s reunion with Piper as she was to experience her and Percy’s own reunion. “So, you’re a demigod?”

She nodded. “And one of the seven, apparently.” 

Jason and Leo looked at her oddly. So maybe she had neglected to mention her connection to Percy, but why was it any of their business? It had been a stressful time; she could tell them whatever the hell she wanted to tell them. Besides, they could have easily found out if they had ever taken her and Annabeth up on the offer to go to Sally’s. 

Besides, the rest of their reunion would have to wait until after the battle discussion and lunch. 

----

Later, when Jason’s head was healed and the ship had been repaired, Piper and Percy finally had time to catch up with each other at dinner. 

Predictably, Percy, who she had to admit, had done a great job growing up, (cause damn those cheek bones! And muscles - for a very brief second, she was jealous of Annabeth), spent a while staring wistfully at the holograms of Camp Half-Blood. She couldn’t imagine how much he must be missing home. 

Finally, he managed to tear his eyes away from the wall to look over at her. “So, how have you been?” he asked. 

She was pleased to hear excitement in his voice. After nearly 5 years of no contact, she had been afraid Percy would no longer care about their letters, or worse, hate her for allowing them to peter out in the first place, but after hearing Annabeth describe him so many times, she really should have had more faith. 

She rubbed the back of her neck and turned to face him. “Oh, you know…not great,” she answered, about as honestly as she could. “You heard the story.” 

“Yep,” he chuckled. “That I did.” He grinned and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to your new life as a demigod. It fucking sucks, but on the bright side, you also get to be completely ignored by the parent you never knew you had!” 

Piper laughed and shook his offered hand, also getting into it. “Yeah, you also get these cool powers that come in real handy when your godly parent finally decides you’re worth their time.” They were both laughing at this point. 

“Hang on,” Leo said suddenly, making a T with his hands in the timeout symbol. “You two know each other, how?” At the other end of the table, Hazel, Frank, and Annabeth turned to look toward their side as if sensing the change in topic. 

Jason spoke up. “I would also like to know.”

Percy and Piper both grinned, and she knew he was remembering the exact same thing she was. “Okay, so it all happened 12 years ago when Piper was being a problem child at the New York City Aquarium-”

Piper broke in. “I was not being a problem child! That could have happened to anyone,” she defended herself. 

“Yeah, but it happened to you,” Percy responded and poked her in the side. “Anyway, and we were both toddlers by the way, my mom and I were at the aquarium when I happened to find Piper crying in a corner looking for her dad, so-”

“He fucking introduced himself and asked me what my name was like it was a preschool socialization lesson!” she finished for him. “Then he saw Dad and I on TV a few years later and convinced his mom to let him send me a letter.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah, and we kept up with each other for a few years. We only stopped around the time I found out I was a demigod.”

“That was also around the time I started stealing and went to boarding school,” Piper informed them matter-of-factly. 

The others barring Annabeth stared at them rather blankly. She supposed Frank and Hazel were pretty straight laced to be hearing this kind of story, but Jason and Leo should know her well enough to not be surprised. 

Thankfully, Annabeth started laughing. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. This isn’t even one of the weirder things they’ve done.”

Percy laughed. “You got that right.” 

Leo gaped at him. “What is your life?” 

“You don’t want to know,” Percy answered. 

Pretty soon, everyone went back to their previous conservations, allowing Percy and Piper to return to theirs. 

Percy was the first to start. “You know, those letters really meant a lot to me. Those were some of the hardest years of my life, and I was really lucky to have a friend like you.” 

Piper smiled. “Same here. And I’m really glad we got to see each other again!”

“Yeah,” Percy agreed. “Hopefully, this time, it sticks.”

----

A few months after that pseudo-initial meeting, Piper found herself on the steps of the Poseidon cabin, hand poised above the door. 

Am I really about to do this? she thought. Once she told Percy, there was no going back. 

She knocked. 

Right away, she heard footsteps from inside, and then the door was being opened, and she was walking through, and -

“I’m gonna break up with Jason,” she blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth. 

Percy’s eyes grew wide, and he shut the door. “Maybe we should sit down,” he said weakly. 

She nodded vigorously. “That’d be good.”

Once they were seated facing each other on his bed (that he had to slide a pile of dirty clothes off of, though in Piper’s opinion, it looked no better on the floor than it had on the bed), he said, “I’m not gonna lie, this isn’t exactly surprising.”

She raised her eyebrows and motioned for him to explain. 

“I just mean, with how you started, I kinda thought you guys would’ve ended things a long time ago, what with the memory manipulation and all,” he hurried to explain. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. Piper was not at all surprised that Percy hadn’t just taken her relationship with Jason at face value; he was far smarter than people gave him credit for. “Lately, I’ve been finding it harder and harder to get past that.” She picked at his blue comforter. 

“That’s understandable. I love Annabeth more than anything, but if we’d gotten together because Hera had implanted memories in one of our minds, I don’t think we would’ve lasted very long. Plus, we probably would’ve chewed Hera out and gotten ourselves killed.” He grinned as did Piper. That sounded exactly like something her friends would do. 

She cleared her throat. This was the hard part. “There’s one more reason I wanna break up with him.” She took a deep breath, and Percy looked at her worriedly. “I think I might be-,” she hesitated, “-not straight.”

He looked at her, stunned. “When did-how did you-what-?” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “How long have you been questioning?” he finally asked. 

It was Piper’s turn to be surprised. While Percy was smarter than he seemed, she certainly never would’ve pegged him as a guy up to date on LGBTQ+ terms. 

“A while now,” she answered truthfully. “I guess it started after I put Gaia to sleep. I felt really powerful, you know? It made me think about why I was actually with Jason if we didn’t even start out truthfully. Then that kinda made me feel like maybe I didn’t need a man at all, and the only reason I thought I was supposed to be with him was because of Hera, who would’ve assumed we were both straight. Then I did a bit of a deep dive into queer media and sexuality, and now I think I’m either a lesbian or bi.” She took another deep breath, heart pounding. “And that’s it.”

Percy just looked at her, smiling. “I’m really glad you told me.” Then, he held up a finger in a wait a minute gesture. She watched him walk over to a desk in the corner stacked with books, papers, and pens and pencils. That must be new, she thought. She didn’t remember that being there the last time she was in the Poseidon cabin. A gift from his father, maybe, for saving the universe again? An answered prayer for a smooth and uninterrupted senior year from a certain goddess of wisdom? Whatever it was, she was glad Percy had it. 

Then, he shifted a stack of books to the floor, and she stared, for tacked to the wall was a small bisexual flag over a demiromantic flag as well as a demisexual flag. 

She pointed, stunned. “Y-you-”

“Yep,” he chuckled. “Me, too.”

----

Another few months after that eye opening conversation found the two of them and Annabeth at Percy’s apartment in Manhattan, Annabeth working on school work at the kitchen table and Piper on the living room floor while Percy carefully sectioned her hair into two Dutch braids. 

“You know,” Piper was saying, “I’m starting to think there are no more decent single people.”

Percy laughed. “In the whole world?”

“In the whole world,” she confirmed. They had just finished telling Percy all about the last date she had been on in which the girl had shown up sweaty, 20 minutes late, and still in her gym clothes. The girl had then proceeded to spend the entire date gushing about Piper’s dad and how cool was it to have a movie star as a parent? despite Tristan having been blacklisted and bankrupted several weeks prior. She’d also flat out refused to refer to Piper as anything but ‘she’ even though Piper had mentioned several times that their pronouns were she/they. To top it all off, the girl had sent her food back five times and made Piper pay because there was, “No way a few little lawsuits could have taken all of the great Tristan McLean’s money.” All in all, not the best date she had been on, but definitely not the worst, either. That award went to the blind date with the guy who spent the whole date complaining about how the gays were ruining America. 

“She’s right,” Annabeth called from the kitchen. “I’ve got the only good one in the entire universe.” 

If Piper could’ve seen Percy’s face, she knew they’d be seeing a deep blush gracing his cheeks. “I know, right?” Piper added. “If only we were living in a world of Percys, life would be so much easier.”

The fingers in her hair stilled. “I don’t think I’m that great,” Percy said sheepishly. “I just love her and take her on dates.”

Annabeth snorted derisively. “You also rearrange your day to make sure we have time to actually talk to each other, you comfort me after nightmares, you bring me things when they remind you of me, you let me talk to you about architecture, you don’t get mad when I beat you at stuff, you don’t step in and try to fix things for me when I’m having trouble or when I’m fighting, you’re incredibly romantic, you’re a feminist without even realizing it, need I go on?” she finished smugly. 

Percy huffed. “But that’s just basic stuff. Doesn’t everyone do that?”

Piper laughed at him, no longer trying to hide it. “And he doesn’t even think he’s special! You’re right, Annabeth, he’s the last true good one.”

Annabeth made a noise of agreement and turned back to her homework now that she’d won the discussion. 

Piper returned her attention to Percy. “Seriously, dude, that stuff isn’t normal.  You’re like, the number one boyfriend,” they informed him. “Just accept it.”

He laughed nervously. “No way.” 

She shook her head. “I’m serious! Jason and Leo are convinced that Calypso and I broke up with them because they couldn’t compete with you,” they said, smiling. 

“We’ll agree to disagree,” he said, tieing off her hair. 

She turned to him. “Fine, but mark my words. You’re gonna realize one day that you’re the best boyfriend in the world.”

Annabeth snorted again. “Sure he will.”

----

“All right, I admit it. I was wrong,” Piper said a few months later. “There was one more good single person left, but now she’s mine!” 

Percy smiled. “Is that right? Tell me again how amazing Reyna Remirez-Arellano is, cause I haven’t heard it 30 times already.”

“Gladly,” she smirked. “But maybe later. It looks like they’ve found the place.” Up ahead, Annabeth and Reyna had stopped in front of a Mexican Restaurant that Annabeth had heard about from one of her classmates at NRU, one that Reyna had somehow not heard of despite her several years as praetor. It hadn’t taken long for Piper to suggest a double date, both for the two couples to catch up as well as for Reyna to ensure that she knew about all of New Rome’s establishments. 

That was another thing Piper was eternally grateful for. Reyna had come out of nowhere. Months of first dates, helping their dad, hanging out with her family in Oklahoma, and frantically catching up on school, and one trip to Camp Jupiter had completely unraveled all of it.

Piper had been there to help Jason and Annabeth start the minor gods temple project, but her part was very brief, mostly just negotiating with the various New Rome leaders. She had ended up spending almost the entire time hanging out with Reyna, allowing them to show each other previously hidden facets of themselves. They had both done some soul searching, Reyna more so than Piper, and, after an impulsive decision on Reyna’s part, the two had ended up together, and they couldn’t be happier. 

That had also ended with Piper deciding to move on to the next phase in their life where they would do hybrid classes in Oklahoma, partly online and partly in person, allowing her to spend part of the month with their family and the other part with Reyna (and Percy and Annabeth) in New Rome. It was really the best of both worlds. 

Percy turned back to them. “You coming?”

She smiled. “Always.”

[sore-child]

I really miss Lyana. She was my best friend. Even though we live completely different kinds of lives and had different beliefs, she was always accepting of me and kept an open mind. And of course I did the same for her. I miss all of our phone calls pretending we had celebrities like Miley Cyrus or aly and aj visiting our house. I miss watching TV when a new episode of icarly or naked brothers band came out and we would call each other immediately after and talk about how awesome it was. I admired how soft-spoken she was but still had confidence! She was always ready to stick up for me because I was so easily hurt when I was a kid. I miss going to the park with her. I miss when she and her younger sister Kayla would come over a little bit after school because her mom was at work and needed a little extra time to pick them up. We used to share music and play pretend. It's strange because we were nothing alike but it's like we were connected at the hip. After she left the school we went to the summer of 6th grade I was left alone. Neither of us had cell phones or internet at home. And she ended up moving away to idk where. I only got a hold of her one time when she had a MeetMe account. But I ended up losing her number and I haven't heard from her since then. I always wonder how she is these days. I wonder what kind of life she lives. If she found a true love. If she has her dream job. And even if she doesn't I would just love to talk to her one more time. I still have dreams where she started going to the same high school I went to even though that never happened. I don't know why I still dream about high school. And every time when I see her in my dreams I just wave at her and tell her I missed her so much. I never get close enough to actually give her a hug. I doubt I will ever see her again. But if I do I need to make sure I never lose contact with her again. I want to catch up with her so badly. I bet we could still talk foreverrr if we had the chance. I wonder if her favorite color is still blue. And if she still loves dolphins. But I also wonder if she ever wonders about me. This is where I get sad because I feel like if anyone wanted to get a hold of me they could just look for me online. I have an account on SOOOO many websites. The only thing that might make it hard for her if she has tried looking for me as that she doesn't know I changed my name to Lunette. She only knows me by my dead name. I wish there was a way to just send her a letter but I don't even know where she lives. I don't know where she works. Or anything like that. And I can't find her sister or her mom anywhere on the internet either. I am always wishing that the three of them are in good health and staying positive in life no matter what the situation is. Just like they were when we were kids. I haven't poured my heart out on here in a while and I forgot how nice it is to just ramble on and on without anyone to tell me to shut up or talk over me. Maybe I need to start back up

[fandomnerd103]

Stranger Things/Bridge to Terabithia crossover?

So I had this idea and I really like it but I know I’ll probably never write it so if anyone wants to continue it feel free to write it I guess just tag me cuz I’d love to read it. Anyway I’d love to see a bridge to terabithia crossover wit Mike as Jess.

So in this AU Ted and Karen get divorced and the kids end up split up when they’re young. Ted remarries Mrs. Aarons and takes her last name. he’s happier here but still doesn’t really parent Jess/Mike who is the only kid he gains custody of since his new wife already has 3 (was it 3?) girls and if he added his 3 kids Ted feels it’ll be too much so he lets Karen keep Nancy and Holly but fights for Mike not because he wants him but so that he can help on the farm Ted bought. Karen kept the same house the OG wheelers live in. Ted changes Mikes name to what he wanted to originally name him, and makes him take Mrs. Aarons name instead of keeping Wheeler (for the family image). He still meets Will, and the party but now sends them letters and calls them to stay in touch. He also gains an interest in art through Will who encourages this new passion they share. However Ted obviously doesn’t like it and tries to get them to cut contact. Mrs Aaron’s adopts Mike and now he has a third mom and they get along well though he misses his mom, Nancy, and Holly. Annabelle (was that her name I can’t remember… or was it Mary belle? I can’t recall the sisters names… oops?) and Jess get along ok but his older stepsisters and him do not get along very well even if they grow to love each other. Any way I picture him being there from around 7/8 to around 11 which is when he met Leslie. *cue very bittersweet music * everything in Bridge to Terabithia happens and after Jess/Mike is traumatized Ted decides to move back in with Karen for a while to help. In this Au they are still divorced which is why Ted sleeps on his couch/recliner. He still visits the Aaron’s all the time but doesn’t let anyone know outside of his family so that rumors aren’t spread around. Mike also visits them and Karen and Mrs. Arron’s end up with a weird kind of friendship due to everything and because they both love Mike/Jess as their son and are trying to help. Mike(Jess) gives up his art but still keeps Wills. No one in the party really knows what happened when he lived with Ted and kind of forgot about it as Mike never talked about it.

Mike visits in the weekends all the time to hang out with Annabelle(?) who is the only one who knows of Terabithia and both go a lot and talk to Leslie. What they don’t know is that Terabithia is like the upside down but a good version/sorta. There are dangers but since Jess is King and Annabelle(?) is a princess it’s not as dangerous to them. Mike doesn’t realize this and no one in the party knows . It’s not until Vecna becomes a problem that they find out. He possesses Mike which all of Terabithia feel and send Annabelle and Leslie(her ghost) to help. The upside down is basically an evil version of Terabithia with Creels influence while Terabithia is influenced by Mike/Jess. Also this is endgame Byler. Mike/Jess is bi in this and loved both Will, Leslie, and El(mostly platonic however he confused his feelings for El due to their trauma) Jess/Mike moves on for the most part from Leslie but will always love her just like with Will. While El and him become besties. Everyone in the party eventually find out what happened once he’s vecnad as stated earlier. Also they find out he had a crush on his music teacher who he’s still broken up over because if he didn’t take her offer of hanging out (weird date thing??? I never understood what that was about I always thought it was a bit weird….but it might just be my trauma) then he feels as if Leslie might have been alive still….

Um that’s all for now so yeah let me know what you all think ? Also I was thinking that maybe some how Holly, and Jess’s/Mikes other siblings got involved with the upside down as well? Maybe they make a comment about Leslie and Nancy and co ask who that is while Mike freezes and then that’s how they find out because Annabelle(?) who has no filter says it was his girlfriend but she died… I dunno anyway if anyone wants to write this into a fic let me know… also yes this should be an original prompt? I haven’t heard of anybody else doing this….

[blackink-onpaper]

The Descend and the Resurface

Damian Hart x OC

Summary: OC comes from a complex background, and in the midst of trying to save it all and help her family she enters a strange arrangement, which will change her life forever.

Masterlist 🖤

Tags: Beyblade, Beyblade Metal Masters, Julian Konzern, Jack, Damian, OC, mention of suicidal thoughts, team Starbreaker, team Excalibur, dr. Ziggurat, Hades Inc.

Chapter 24

From hazy memory, I recall my final days passed slow and fast simultaneously. Zeo helped me with my suitcase and went to the airport with me, holding me in a tight hug as I cried. It just wasn’t fair: why does everyone deserve to go back to their lives while I can’t possibly move on? Why does everyone have a happy ending while I don’t even know what happened to Damian?

Upon my return, I found my room crowded in fresh bouquets of the most beautiful flowers, all from Julian. Each had a handwritten note: apologies for his “unforgivable behaviour”, apologies for ever letting me go, promises and pleas for another chance. He also came by one Sunday morning to beg my hand back. I truly believe his repentance, turns out he realised he loved me more than he thought. That day, he left promising he will wait as long as it takes and earn my trust and love back. The final days of the summer slipped away in tears of heartbreak, of worry and nescience. Each day brought less news, even the gossiping and theory-plotting voices dimmed down eventually, distracted by new events. Everyone seemed to move on, except for me. As the leaves changed colour, my mind ran across different shades of emotion as well: my worry occasionally soured into hatred, boiled into anger, or sunk into depression. Some days I believed he selfishly ran away on his own, some that he has passed away, and on others that a worse fate than both found him. On a particularly rough night a month after he dissapeared, the thunderstorms reminded me of the cracks left in my sad heart: we didn’t even have a picture together, or something to remember each other by, nothing. Nothing but a painful memory. That night I considered ending it all, thinking we might finally be reunited as I looked over the balcony down into the garden. What stopped me was the thought he might still be alive. The thought he might be looking for me as I was looking for him. The thought that he loves me.

I am sitting next to my bedroom window as a misty autumnal morning wakes up with the rest of the world. Every day the thoughts from that night keep me going. Hope against fear of the unknown. Hope against a painful imagination. My parents are worried about me, and I agreed to start therapy under the condition that it was with dr. Carlisle. I felt comforted speaking to him because I felt at least somehow closer to Damian, imagining him speaking to Carlisle all those years. Julian never ceased his support for me and my family, sending fresh flowers, gifts and letters regularly. Through the letters he repeatedly expressed his sadness over being blind to how much he loved me, and that he fights his urge to contact me every day, choosing to write letters instead. In my pain and suffering, I constantly considered giving him another chance because I missed the warmth of an embrace, a shoulder to cry on. But my contemplation always circled back to the reason why I was crying in the first place.

Even though I had completely lost all contact with Jack, I kept a somewhat regular streak of occasional calls with Zeo. His new life brought out his cheerful side, and I was so happy for him. I hoped Jack and Damian had found the same calm happiness. The same lift of liberation that filled him with life made each of our calls more spaced out, but I was thankful for each one nonetheless; I couldn’t blame him for moving on, or for not sharing my pain. All of my friends told me I should move on, but they didn’t understand time doesn’t heal all wounds: it heals only the ones you know how you got, and that you know are going to pass. In other words, time only heals the wounds you know have an end, but how can time fight against an unknown end? An unfinished story?

A/N: Even though it is a short one, I wanted this chapter to reflect the first in the sense that a lot had been said in a few words. I wanted to highlight what Camila is going through right now, a pained heart every day with little to no new things in her life (Lana’s “Dark Paradise” is the literal soundtrack of this chapter).

If you have a moment to spare, please let me know what you think! And thank you so much for reading my fic, each like means so much to me and I appreciate each returning reader! Don’t be shy to ask questions!

[imxthexhandler]

📂📂📂📂📂

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have. ---------------------------

( @mcltitcdes- I couldn't decide if it should be focused on our PR AU or with the Moon boys, so...)

v: Cancelling the Apocalypse

The first person Amelia talked about Joshua was Alexis. After that, every K-Day, Alexis sticks by Amelia's side unless she's on duty so she doesn't have to be alone. The tradition expanded to include Sonny as the three of them became best friends.

Amelia refuses to fly (unless it is absolutely necessary) if Axel is not the pilot. He is the only one she trusts. To try and keep her calm during flights, if they're alone, Axel will bust out singing his favorite karaoke songs, with Amelia singing along with him. Their favorite is "You Really Got Me". Axel prefers the Guns n Roses version, Amelia prefers The Kinks.

Nearing the time of the attack on the Breach, Amelia noticed Pentecost's repeated missed calls and messages from his private medical doctor. She confronted him about it a couple of times, each time with him denying it. After he was suited up in his dive suit, Amelia confronted him for the third time. The two had a brief argument before Amelia tearfully told him goodbye and thanked him for giving her a new life with the PPDC.

Amelia waited a year after Yancy's death before she tried to reach out to Raleigh, knowing on some level what he was going through and wanting to spare him the same despair that consumed her. He never contacted her back, but every three months, she kept trying to send him messages- whether by letter, by email, or by phone.

Mako was the one to teach Amelia how to speak Japanese. She found out Raleigh spoke it similar to the same way Mako did. She stated to Mako in Japanese (with Raleigh present) at the canteen, sipping on coffee, "He's cute. His attitude needs some work and his brother was better looking, but he is cute." Raleigh glanced up with a completely serious expression, staring at Amelia, "Oh, you think I'm cute?" Which made Amelia choke on her coffee and hiss at Mako for not telling her that he knew Japanese. Mako and Raleigh still tease her about it.

Moon Knight and Mr. Knight

Once Amelia and Steven started seeing each other, Amelia began experimenting with vegan recipes. To get a majority of the Avengers to try them, she usually has to leave out the fact that it's vegan.

Even though Amelia will straighten up the flat while they are away on business for Khonshu, she will not touch Steven's books. She will make sure they do not gather dust, and will clean underneath them, around them, but she always keeps the stacks right where Steven left them.

Both Steven and Marc can be very distracting when Amelia is trying to work on something. Marc is much more dramatic and direct, but Steven is just as bad, he's just more polite about it. Damn those brown eyes.

When Amelia was first interacting with Marc and Steven, she had an easy code with them to know who was fronting at the moment. Steven's was asking about tea time; Marc's was discussing the Cubs.

Amelia spent the night with Steven first during their first date. The two literally spent the night talking until they ended up falling asleep on the couch together. Marc was the first to spend the night at her apartment, surprising her with dinner and flowers.

[shinehalley]

I've been thinking about the Frankenstein family in the Penny Dreadful universe and decided to share some thoughts.

I'm not sure if the three men who were in the corner at Victor's mother's funeral were supposed to be his much older brothers, or family acquaintances, or lawyers, or anything similar so I won't focus on them. Although I elaborated that if they really are Victor's brothers, then they are his father's children from his first marriage. Baron Frankenstein's first wife died after giving birth to their third child, and many years later he met Caroline and they had four children together before she died of tuberculosis. That would make a total of seven Frankenstein children, practically.

Victor didn't spend enough time with his three much older brothers, but he did spend considerable time with those closer to his age, and those are the ones I'm going to focus on in this post.

The eldest is Henry Frankenstein and is Victor's least favorite. Henry is a lunatic in the purest sense of the word. His ideas and concepts made him a difficult creature to live with, especially when he was fixated on an idea. His penchant for the mystical and mocking Victor's aspirations is the main reason their relationship is complicate. It's impossible for Victor not to compare his brother to his best friend, even though they don't share any resemblance other than the name. Yet Victor feels that, after Henry Jekyll, if there was anyone who would travel halfway around the world to help him, it's Henry Frankenstein. Victor is still his little brother, after all.

Victor is kind of aloof towards Ernest most of the time. He is the wittiest and most optimistic of the Frankenstein brothers and the only one of the last four to have married. Although Victor has the soul of a poet, it is Ernest who became a writer after an unsuccessful attempt to enlist. Like Victor, he was the least built brother, but not having asthma gave him a huge advantage. Although Victor is not close with Ernest, the same cannot be said for his wife. Sometimes it's as if Elizabeth were born to be a Frankenstein, she's blended so well into the family. Victor considered her more his sister than Ernest at times and he was sure she saw him in the same way. Victor avoided them more because of the feeling that he was missing something when he saw what they had with each other than because he didn't really sympathize with them.

William was the Baron's favorite and when he died in a carriage accident a few years before Victor left for England, it was as if Baron Frankenstein's world had completely come crashing down. He died a short time later and Frederick, the eldest son of the first marriage, assumed the title, leaving the rest of the brothers to fight for the rest of the fortune. Victor took what was rightfully his in his father's will and let his brothers argue over these futilities.

Victor has not kept in touch with his siblings after going to England, with the exception of occasional letters to Elizabeth and Henry sending money to make sure Victor is not in need. After dropping out of college, contact was lost completely. The next time Victor had any contact with the family it was through a niece he didn't even remember he had.

So far the only one who had children was Frederick, although to his disappointment no heir. An older daughter called Tanya and a younger one called Sophia, both with the same light eyes inherited from their grandfather. Tanya was born with an indomitable soul and an intimidating intelligence, which led to a head full of ideas and dreams. Sophia is not far behind, but she doesn't possess the same relentless confidence as her older sister. That means Tanya didn't mind running away from her family in search of her own space in the world, but Sophia would never be able to come close to doing something like that.

Finally, I imagine that Victor's mother is English and his father is Swiss. They were all born and raised primarily in the Frankenstein family home in Switzerland, but have spent a lot of time in England with their maternal side of the family as well.

[k9wa]

༉ 𝟒:𝟏𝟑 𝐏𝐌 ꒱ with hanemiya kazutora.

⠀— where kazutora is welcomed back into society.

the black metal of your car was practically cooking under the blazing sun, and warm against your skin as you leaned against the driver's side door. you were on the verge of boiling in the street, between the mix of the heat beating down on you externally, and the even hotter surge of suspense running through your nervous system internally.

you fidgeted with your hands, staring at the correctional facility across the street from you, and it felt like it was glaring back. like it was taunting you.

would things be the same once he got out? would you be able to go back to being a couple? sure, you visited him every time you were able, and you wrote letters and kept in touch, but you haven’t been…together, i mean really together, able to touch and see and talk to each other free of limits since you were teenagers.

you glanced down at the watch on your wrist, trying to find an angle where there wasn’t a blinding reflection on the glass.

4:13.

he’s almost 15 minutes late. you figured this wasn’t necessarily a speedy process, but were plagued by worry. had something happened?

a sudden sound, a loud buzzer from across the street was quick to shake the thoughts out of your head.

there he was, walking out of the iron gate, a small plastic bag of belongings clutch in his hand.

it was cliche, the way everything seemed to stop moving once you made eye contact, the way all you saw was each other. 

he was right there, within your reach, he was nearly at the end of your fingertips.

you bolted across the street, leaving your parked car in line with all the others on the shoulder of the road. you didn’t bother to look both ways before your legs moved, causing kazutora to yell out a frantic ‘careful, careful!!’

the moment your feet touched the parallel sidewalk, he moved forward to meet you as you just about leapt into his arms, he was there to catch you.

it couldn’t be deciphered who was holding who. the grips you had on one another was vice, and even while falling victim to the humid weather, was so comfortably warm.

kazutora inhaled you, your new scents, rubbed his thumbs along the soft skin of your waist, relished in the feeling of your cheek against his, and in this moment it all caught up with him that god, he missed you so much. he’s subconsciously lifting you off the ground, pulling you as close as he can get you and you let him, as you too are soaking up every ounce of him in the moment. 

kazutora sets you down, hesitant to pull away, but it's quickly washed when he’s able to get a clear look at your face. you’re crying, he’s quick to wipe away the tears with his palm.

“….hi.” hanemiya is still in a daze, he doesn’t know what else to say. the simple greeting is enough to make you laugh through your tears, and your smile makes kazutora’s heart clench in his chest.

“hi.” your hands find their way back around his neck, your thumbs running along the curve of his jaw, as if touching him was helping you to convince yourself he was really there, in the palms of yours hands.

kazutora looked at you with such awe. it had been so long since he’d seen you up close, a gleaming smile, the glow of the sun on your skin. his hands moved to hold your face with such delicacy, as if he was holding glass. he became teary eyed himself at the way you nestled into his hold.

“you’re–” the words catch in your throat. “you’re out. you’re out oh my god.”

you brush some hair out of his face, moving it behind his ear. kazutora nods his head, pulling you back into his arms, head back safely in the crook of your neck where it belongs.

“i'm out.”

⠀ master. ꒱ send me an ask!

[rayslittlekitten]

"Wanna Be"

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

A/N: Okay so, I just need to add this little scene to bridge the two parts together but the scene didn't turn out to be so little. Because of how it plays out, I felt it deserved to be by itself. It needs a bit breathing room between this part and the final part so y'all get a little something extra. Thank you again @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading and helping me with this.

Rating: T

Word Count: ~980

Pairing: Teenager!Will Miller & Teenager!F!reader

Contains: pining, also probably some inaccuracies of military traditions and how they operate

Standing next to Benny, you anxiously twist the program in your hands. You haven’t seen Will since he left for basic training and now he’s graduated to move on to specialized training. He was only gone for a couple of months, but you’re excited you get to see him before you start college. The two of you have been keeping in contact while apart. You weren’t joking when you told him you would send him a letter a day. He can probably bind the letters into a book. He also kept his promise to write back and even though he didn’t send back as many as you did, the letters were just as long and it sounded like he was doing really well.

“You want some?” Benny nudges you and offers you some peanut M&Ms.

“No, thanks.” You glance over at him before turning your attention away, but then quickly turn back to him. “Where the heck did you get those?”

“I brought them with me. I knew these things would run long so I prepared myself with snacks.” Benny pulls out a handful of candies out of his pocket to show you. He offers them to you again but you shake your head.

You and the Millers are waiting to meet up with the new graduate after the ceremony. They had an extra ticket and let you use it. You were so proud to see him on stage in his uniform.

You wipe your clammy palms down on the hips of your dress. You wanted to look nice for Will’s special day so you picked out something nice for the occasion. You start fidgeting with the program again. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. He’s just your best friend.

“Oh, there he is!”

You look around and finally spot Will walking towards the group. It’s like it’s happening in slow motion. He seems to be standing a little taller. Definitely more confident. There’s an extra pep in his step. His blue uniform fits on him perfectly. Not too tight and not too big. It’s like it was tailored just for him. His black leather shoes and gold buttons shine brightly, making him glow.

As soon as you make eye contact with him, you sprint over to him and throw your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you enough to spin you around for a rotation before planting you back on the ground. The two of you hold each other for a beat longer.

“I missed you so much,” you tell him.

“I missed you too.” With his hand still on your waist, he pulls back.

“I’m so happy you came.” There’s no denying how happy Will feels from his bright baby blues and his infectious smile.

“You look very pretty,” Will says, noticing your dress.

“Thank you.” The butterflies in your belly are still fluttering about. You thought seeing him would make them go away, but it’s actually making them worse.

“You look very handsome,” you reply quietly, tucking your lower lip between your teeth as you gently pull at his jacket collar.

“Hey, bro!”

You immediately separate yourself from Will, suddenly embarrassed by your actions. You had totally ambushed Will without letting his family see him first.

Will greets his parents and Benny with long hugs and sweet words.

Afterwards, you all go to grab something to eat. While waiting for your food, you watch Will as he tells everyone about his experience and what’s next for him. He’s really excited for the next step and you really admire his passion.

“So when do you start?” Mrs. Miller asks.

“I’m actually getting shipped off in two days,” Will answers.

“And how long is this advanced training?”

“I’m being told AIT is probably going to be a year.”

The food finally arrives and you all dig in while having small talk. You see Will shoveling some of his French fries onto your plate. You look up at him curiously.

“I know you’re going to take some of my fries when you don’t order your own. You also hate ketchup on your fries so I’m giving you some before I drown mine in it,” Will tells you.

You smile back, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Your letters kept my spirits up.” Will shakes the plastic ketchup bottle and paints his French fries red.

********

You wish you had another day with Will, but it’s not on your timeline. He has obligations to the government now. You and Will were able to get a few minutes alone and you were telling him how excited you are about starting college and meeting new people.

“It would suck if you get a terrible roommate,” Will says.

“Couldn’t be worse than Benny. I love him, but he is a mess and half. Remember that time we all camped out in your backyard? He left candy wrappers all inside the tent,” you laugh.

“Yeah, I do remember that,” Will chuckles. “I know how he is. I’ve lived with that guy his whole life. He also leaves lights on and dishes everywhere. But trust me, it could be worse.”

The August sun is at its peak and the heat is becoming a bit unbearable. Will takes his uniform cap off and rubs his sweaty head. It’s weird seeing Will with such short hair. You expect it to be prickly but when you run your hand over his head, it’s actually soft.

Will looks over at you and smiles while staring at you.

“What?” you ask, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing,” Will shakes his head. He then leans in and wraps his arms around you, holding you and hugging you. You wrap your arms around his waist and melt into him.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Will whispers.

“Never,” you reply, squeezing him a bit tighter.