#would love to get Fiver one day but he seems to be one of the characters that pop up for sale very scarcely

[canisalbus]

Hello! I saw that you said watership down is one of your favorite books and it's one of mine too!

I just wanted to show this amazing pin I bought of Fiver, Hazel and I believe Bigwig!

Ah, that's neat! You don't see Watership Down merchandise very often, especially if we're talking about the 1978 film. Good find.

I have this ceramic Bigwig guarding one of my bookshelves, bought it shortly after Richard Adams passed away in 2016. I believe it's from 1982 and was made by Royal Orleans.

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

Random Thought of the day. (This actually could be a Short story, but I’ll label it as a headcannon) pre agggtm.

The Quiet Affections of Pippa Fitz Amobi (HeadCannons)

Paring: Pippa Fitz Amobi x fem reader

Warnings: fluff, heart melting fluff, stomach inducing fluff🤭

Pippa Fitz Amobi is a cuddler. You wouldn’t think it just from knowing her, but as soon as you two become girlfriends, and she’s completely smitten by you, she lets her walls down. She’s always the first one to initiate physical contact. It first happened at one of Josh’s football games. You had been a favorite of his lately, he adored you. “To pieces” as Leanne put it. Growing up you had a lot of siblings, so you were use to children, and you had first met Pip when your mother had inadvertently signed you up to be Josh’s baby sister in grade 8.

“Oh just this once love! Please!! The Amboi’s would be just so appreciative if you did! And you can make some pocket money! How does a nice fiver sound?” Of course you didn’t care a whit for the money. So you had agreed, taking your homework with you. You had known the Amboi’s for years, had seen them around town. You knew Pip from school, but you never spoke. You were to shy, and your schedules were always busy. Never synchronized enough to have a chat. But you knew she was kind, studious, always getting the highest marks in her year.

Josh had been overjoyed to see you, taking you by the hand as soon as soon as you had darkened the door, books in hand. He simply eyed you with his brown eyes, his brow squinting, “oh not another homework girl!” He whined, “all my sister does is homework! Are you going to do that all night too?”.

You chuckled, putting your books on the Amboi’s kitchen table, you leaned down so you were eye level with Josh, your eyes serious, “I may not know your sister as well as her friends, or you, but I do know she’s very intelligent, especially at schoolwork. Don’t you want to be good at schoolwork?”. Josh seemed to think before shaking his head, “Miss says my homework is atrocious! What does that mean?”.

You hid your smile, “I think it means you need a little more work”. Pip had come home well into the evening, you noticed because you had seen Cara Ward’s big sister drop her of. You liked the Wards, they were comical and always made you laugh, even if not on purpose. Pip at first had been surprised to see you, stopping in her tracks as she opened the front door, “mum! Can Cara sleepover on Friday?” She announced into the air, cheeks red when she found you looking up at her from the Amboi’s couch. Your cheeks red, smile wide.

You lifted your book in your hands, “Not mum sorry to disappoint” you had joked. Pip’s cheeks had turned a shade of crimson, she had shaken her head, a few embarrassed laughs falling of her lips. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be here in my living room. Did Flora Cancel? Mum didn’t tell me she and dad were going out” Pippa stated, walking over and sitting across from you, blue watercolored eyes undoing her laces of her trainers. You shook your head, “I’m not sure about Flora, mum basically hired me for the job, apparently your mum thinks highly of me when it comes to children” you spoke, eyebrows lifted up as you turned the page on your book, “not sure why”.

You noticed Pip’s eyes had become trained on your book, a small smile perched on her lips. “Is that Great Expectations? I’ve tried to get Cara to read it with me but she just calls it “Newer Shakespeare”.

From then on you had been more accepting of babysitting Josh, Pipa would sit with you after you had put Josh to bed, eyes alight as you told her where you were in the book, how you felt about what was going on, how Charles Dickens had a way with words. She listened, attentively. At school you were more inclined to smile at her as you passed in the corridors. Pip had even gone so far as to find you in the library, “I just thought you’d like this book, it’s an Agatha Christie. It’s a first edition copy, took me ages to find. Dad had to go to ten second hand stores in London just to find it” she rambled, biting her lip. It was here where you first noticed how pretty she looked.

It hadn’t been this big earthshattering moment. It had been a small thought. But then that small thought became more. Until you didn’t think she was just pretty, you thought she was beautiful. With her soft defined cheekbones and her eyes. Which were different every time you saw her. At school they were bold, analytical, dare you say scholarly. At home in the comfort of her room, they were wild and magnetic. In the library they were radiant, and suddenly blue had a new meaning to you. It was the colour blue that made your heart race, made your tongue falter as she eyed you on her bed, waiting for your thoughts on the next classic she had leant you.

Then it was homework. You two had begun doing homework together, “a get together with a focus on scholarly matters” as Cara had put it. As Pippa worked alongside you, you noticed something, call it a earthshattering realization, but She was not the most objectively attractive girl in school, but her beauty was amplified because you admired her. Admired her for her absolutely angelic voice as she sang in the library, headphones in ears. Admired her when you sat opposite side of the room from her and watched her while she sang. She was confident enough and cool enough to have been one of the popular kids, but she didn't seem to care about that sort of thing. She was down to earth, and kind, and warm. And yes, pretty too. But that wasn't really the point. The point was, she understood you. And maybe just maybe, the way Pip would smile at you through the layers of books, might have made your heart ache in the best way.

Then it was pip herself who surprised you. She was more touchy with you, finding you at school and sitting so close your legs brushed. Holding your hand as you walked her to class. Letting you in her room, which you knew was special, only Cara and Lauren had been up here. You didn’t know what you were, best friends? But did best friends think about what her lips would feel like? How soft and warm they would be?

“Cara’s been my best friend since primary school. But you…you don’t feel like one to me. I’ve spent days reasoning with myself. Analyzing myself, trying to figure out why you feel different” Pippa had stated to you one day, out of the blue, her eyes seeming to shine, bold as the colour blue. “But I just realized. It’s because…your my person. You understand me. In ways nobody does. So when are you going to ask me out?”

So it was no surprise when you had asked her on an outing the next day, the book store of course. And she had said yes.

I just might do a actual story based on this. 🥺😭

[idiot-mushroom]

I would love the Casey lore but I also don't want spoilers, so I'm going to ask a bunch of stuff again!

What are Casey, April, Irma, and Sunita's fashion sense like? Music taste? Favorite food? Favorite type of books/shows/movies? Least favorite food texture? Any specific neirodivergency or mental illnesses? What are they most insecure about? Do they all fight along side the turtles or aid them with their adventures?

Please tell me everything you can about Keno!!!

Do any of the humans get mutated at any point? Why does Donnie create retro mutagen?

Is spike mutant or yokai? Will he eventually be an ally to the turtles? Do have a design for him? Do they acquire other allies? Do you have any character designs we can have a sneak peek too?

Is Bishop and his hole thing in this au? Are the triceraton? Will there be professor Honeycutt/Fugitoid?

Do the O'Neil's have any other foster kids? Do they have an apartment or a house? What the layout of their place like? Which half of them makes April 1/4 Kraang?

In the new lair layout there isn't Splinters room, does he not live with them anymore? Or is it a more separate room?

I swear everytime I do this I feel like a crazy reporter or paparazzi running up to you just asking frantic questions I'm so sorry. Also sorry if these are repeated questions.

Sunita:

has autism swag

kidcore fashion sense (bright colors, chunky jewelry, ect)

they’re mostly insecure abt how she seems to not be able to fit in with human kids as well as with people in the hidden city

she likes hard rock (which contrasts with her personality and everything abt her (i think it’d be funny))

she doesn’t like the texture of celery bc of the fiver strands that make it hard to eat (for her)

she likes learning abt plants :))

her favorite food is mango pudding

she only aids them later on as ‘the man in the chair’

Casey:

he has add swag

the grunge fashion is strong with this one

he likes indie rock and rap

he’s insecure abt his past with his dad and mom, and the fact he doesn’t know much abt his own heritage from his father’s side.

he likes the percy jackson books

he does aid them in adventures as back up and muscle

April:

her brain is on default setting

casual fashion for a casual girl

she likes anything under ‘sad girl starter pack’

she rlly enjoys marvel and star wars

she aids them in adventures as a second opinion and back up

she’s rlly insecure abt her parents not paying attention to her as much with so many other kids in the household

Keno:

country bumpkin 2 da max

half Italian, half Korean

likes making pizza and pasta all day

oldest out of the entire group (in his early 20’s)

has a farm (passed down from his family)

neighbors with Casey’s old house (a mile down from the old jones’s house is keno’s house/farm)

they meet keno during the farmhouse arc

he is very friendly and acts as an older brother

I don’t think that any of them get mutated in the series but j might change my mind idk

Spike (Slash) is my au is a leatherback sea turtle that gets mutated!! She doesn’t ally them, but isn’t a bad guy either, she’s more of a morally grey vigilant.

i have no new official designs rn but after this latest arc i’ll defo post Slash’s design

Bishop will be in this au (still trying to find out his character tho) and yes mr honeycutt is in this au but he’s a robot assistant to irma 👍

these are the rest of the o’neil’s foster kids!! they live in a nice, two story house in the city.

april gets her 1/4 krang from her dad’s side (ik girls going through it)

splinter does live with them in the new lair, he’s just dubs his room as ‘the meditation room’ bc he’s an extra bitch like dat

thank you for the asks btw, don’t feel bad or worry abt it, i’m happy to talk abt my au!!

[articulatedbyleilani]

The value I bring to him PART III

I'm supportive, I'm willing, I sacrifice and I've always been there during his lowest, hardest and most stressful times. Donnel is so ambitious that he is constantly setting goals, accomplishing them and setting new ones. Being the person he was dating and being his girlfriend, could I really say I was good for him if I didn't support him? When I met him, he was at one of his lowest times in life. He had to move because he couldn't afford rent, he ended up moving in with his friend and even then he was still struggling a little bit. Did I have too? No. Did I want too? Absolutely. Why? Because given my financial situation, I felt it was right to pay my blessing forward. So I made sure I always helped him with his rent when needed. When I met him, he was starting to take on personal training full time, mainly making commission based pay. I wanted to see him succeed, so anything he asked me to do, I made sure I got done. I'd do everything I could from making flyers, making business cards, passing out flyers, making ad's to post on his facebook page, helping him make content, helping him set up fiver and more. Did I have too? No. Did I want too? Absolutely. Why? Because there's no better feeling then contributing to your partners success, let alone growing and succeed with them. There's no better feeling them making consistent income with somebody you were broke with. His car and his debt are really important things to him. It seems like every car he has, tends to give out on him and it makes me sad because his car is his biggest source of income. It's what gets him to where he needs to be for his clients. My cars though, perfectly fine. I wasn't using either of them, so of course I let him use my car. Did I have too? No. Did I want too? Absolutely. Why? I had to resources available, and it would've hurt me to see him struggle to find another way. It helped him continue to do what he loved and continued to help him be great. Donnel was always stressed out about his debt. I would do anything I could to help him eliminate his debt. For the longest, I was working 6 days a week, 10 hours shifts Monday-Friday, 6 hours on Saturdays - just to make sure we had enough for bills, to cover any extra finances and for fun. It didn't matter how tired or exhausted I was. I didn't mind because I saw how much stress I was lifting off his back. Every bonus check I got, I'd send him the cost to cover his credit card debt, with a little of his money mixed in there too. I even suggested a joint bank account because we've reached the point to where my money was his and his was mine. It seemed to help a lot and when he confirmed that, my heart was filled with so much joy. Did I have too? No. Did I want too? Yes. Period. Why? I was making good money until I started making great money and I truly believe in the "If you don't got it, I got it" mentality. I truly believe in the "She was there when I didn't have much so when I have it, it'll be my turn" relationship. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for US.

[martincwhitney]

The Red Lion

I met Dave at The Red Lion, one of our old haunts from the time we worked together twenty-two years before. My memory of that time was not great because, to be honest, it was pretty boring. I was an IT contractor and Dave was not exactly my boss, but a senior employee of the client with a supervisory role over my job. So far, so dull. However, fortunately for me, Dave was a decent guy and fun to be with. We went out drinking fairly regularly after work. He was into rock music and football and knew how to have a laugh. We weren’t best mates or anything but more than just work colleagues. There was some mutual respect there. He could be a bit difficult sometimes at work. A bit of a blocker if he didn’t agree with something, a stubborn bugger in fact, but we got on fine almost all the time, and the pub was another matter entirely. Dave was always good with a beer in hand.  We never discussed work down the pub, it was taboo, apart from bitching about the bosses of course. He was a bit older than me and maybe a bit wiser, certainly wiser about the company we worked for. Anyway, I was looking forward to meeting him again after all this time. It would be fun. We would have a laugh.

The Red Lion was an old-fashioned pub. You know, loads of dark wood panelling, booths down one wall and a long bar with stools. Back in the day, the air would have been thick with smoke and the ceiling was still nicotine-yellow, even though nobody could have smoked in there for years.

Dave was there ahead of me. I saw him right away in a booth near the door, half a glass of bitter in front of him. He smiled when he saw me.

He looked like shit.

I smiled back, badly, hoping my horror didn’t show while knowing it must be obvious.

‘Hello, mate,’ I offered him my hand. I was glad he didn’t try to get up and greet me. His hand was thin, dry and cool. His eyes were grey ringed and sunken in his pale face. I slid into the booth opposite him, unable to think of anything to say. My mind was frozen blank.

‘How are you, John?’ His voice was as thin as his face. ‘Keeping well?’

‘Yes, thanks,’ I nodded like an idiot. I should have asked how he was, the obvious reflex question, but I stopped myself and the question hung in the air between us like a glass wall of silence. I didn’t ask because I knew the answer would be bad and I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to get away from this horrible situation and was disgusted with myself. I was appalled by my reaction. I needed to get away for a second to collect myself. I needed a drink. ‘I’ll get a drink,’ I slid out of the booth. ‘Want another?’

Dave shook his bald head very slightly and gently as if his skinny neck might break so he had to be careful. I hurried to the bar feeling clumsy. The pub wasn’t busy, and the middle-aged barmaid served me immediately. She smiled a welcome and I ordered a pint of London Pride. As she was pulling it she nodded her bottle-blond head towards Dave and looked me in the eye, lips pursed and painted eyebrow raised. Her unspoken question was obvious—Is he alright? She seemed a friendly sort and I liked her for taking an interest in people. I was grateful for her concern and humanity, but all I could do was shrug with a rueful smile. I felt inadequate, somehow a lesser human than her. I needed to get a grip.

‘There you go, love,’ she said, passing my pint. ‘Need anything else?’

‘No, thanks,’ I gave her a fiver.

‘Well if you do just shout,’ she said with another nod towards Dave.

‘Yes, I will, thank you.’

As soon as I sat down Dave answered the obvious question before I had a chance to pluck up the courage and ask it.

’Prostate cancer. Inoperable.’

‘Jesus. Mate.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘It’s okay,’ he made a smile.

I took a long pull of beer, blinking hard.

‘I’ve got a month, maybe six weeks.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Yeah.’

We sat in silence for a few minutes which felt like a few hours. I looked at my beer until he cleared his throat. I looked up then but couldn’t help my eyes flicking away from his face almost immediately. I couldn’t bare to look at his pale, big-eyed, hollow-cheeked face. I stared hard out the window at the crowded street and then over to the bar where the barmaid was serving a young couple white wine. She looked so alive and happy. She was smiling like she was proud of the youngsters for being so grown-up as to come in here and order wine rather than cokes or alcopops. She welcomed them to her establishment like a mother, happy to serve these nice young people—.

‘I have something to say, John.’

My mind and face snapped back to point at Dave.

‘I have something to tell you.’

‘Okay.’

Dave looked down at his hands while he told me why he called, after all these years, to arrange this drink with me. Because something had haunted him for all those years. Because he needed to unburden himself before the end.

‘I hope you can forgive me, John.’

I was shaking my head, ‘Dave, please—‘

And then he told me what it was.

Ten seconds later I was on the street striding away from the pub as fast as I could go without actually running. I made for the tube on autopilot. Heading home without thinking about it as I had done hundreds of times. Thousand of times. The familiar streets, stations, stairs, platforms, and trains went by without consequence. I passed five thousand people who didn’t know or care about me and I ignored them all. I stood with my face to the black window of the underground train and watched the blackness rushing past. I left the last station and walked the dark, wet streets to my front door and stopped, key in hand. My head was full of questions without answers.

How can I go in?

How can I face her?

What will I say to her?

I stood in silence for a few minutes which felt like a few hours.

The sound of footsteps came up the road from the station. It would be one of my neighbours coming home from work. They would see me standing in the porch light in front of my own house. They would wonder what I was doing there, but I didn’t care what they thought. I really didn’t care. The steps passed behind me and for a second I thought I heard them falter as if the person was about to stop. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself and relax my face enough to turn and smile, but no, the steps continued and I breathed out shakily.

I opened the door and went inside silently as if I could creep in without her noticing. As if I could avoid her completely. As if I could be invisible and ignored, like a ghost in my own house.

‘Hi,’ she said coming down the stairs. ‘You’re early.’

‘Hi,’ I said.

‘Good day?’

‘Not too bad,’ I smiled and took off my coat.

‘How was David?’

‘Yeah, pretty good. Enjoying retirement.’

‘Oh?’ The barest hint of a frown.

‘Yeah, he’s looking good too, lost a bit of weight.’

‘Really?’ She turned away. ‘That’s good then.’

‘Yeah, it is,’ I followed her into the kitchen.

---

Inspired by the Reedsy.com prompt Write about two old friends meeting for the first time in years.

Photo by Zach Rowlandson on Unsplash

[martsonmars]

Happy Sunday! Thanks @takitalks for the early tag <3 I'm here with a new episode of Marta Fights Words and WIPs Fight Marta.

Me: I'm overwhelmed by all my WIPs. I need to write more of my COBB. Need to update my other WIPs on AO3.

Also me: well here are 35 new ideas I want to start working on NOW.

It's so fun to be me. I have three things for you today:

1. My COBB. Less than a week left before I have to post, and I want to write at least 2 more chapters before then. I love setting myself up for failure <3

2. COTTA. After days of struggling because I have too many ideas, I think I settled on a concept (which of course isn't one of my original ideas but a new one). It's going to be full angst and MCD (you can maybe hope for a super short epilogue à la last-three-lines-of-the-song-of-achilles, but that's the amount of happy ending this fic will get). I'm really excited about this because I already have all the story in mind, since in 2016 I started writing an historical novel with the same exact plot. I'm now translating and snowbazzing what I have, and it's great not to start from an empty page. What I'm sharing was written in Italian in 2016 and translated/snowbazzed this morning. I don't know if it will make it to the final draft, but there will be a scene inspired by it for sure.

3. New WIP. Because that's how things go around here. This one is called “Simon And Shep Raise A Baby”, but it's going to be in Baz's POV for plot reasons.

Find six-ish sentences from each WIP + the tags under the cut!

1. COBB!

“I want to protect the people I love. Ebb says we have to respect every living being and that violence is wrong, but evil people don’t care. They’ll be violent with you, and I don’t want more people to die.”

Sometimes Niamh wonders what exactly happened to Simon. She has her theories—he's the first dragon who's been farther West than Hampshire since Watford was founded, and she heard the stories. About the remaining dragons, the ones that didn’t follow Lady Salisbury beyond the border decades before, leaving Worges for good, this time. But there has to be more than abandonment to his story.

One day, she’ll ask him.

2. COTTA.

Simon is staring at the river, his eyes lost on the horizon.

He would sacrifice himself, too, to follow his dream.

That dream that once was ours, that dream we believed in for so long that we made it seem real.

But the only real thing now is Simon's endless desire to prove himself, to get to the end of the world, and even beyond, to obscure the glory of Heracles, of Achilles.

He will not stop, and he will leave behind anyone who no longer wants to pursue that illusion.

He will push aside even me, if he has to.

3. Pining Baz <3

Penelope abandoned me today, so I'm drinking alone. Rising my Tequila Sunrise and toasting to the pathetic hopelessness of being desperately in love with a man who's in a loving and committed relationship. A father, nonetheless.

(Is he a DILF if he's three months and twenty-eight days younger than me?)

(He lost his wallet in the hall between our flats, once, I can't be blamed for checking.) (And I definitely did not cry when I found a photo of his boyfriend and his kid kissing his cheeks, hidden behind a creased fiver and a condom.) (Didn't they teach him that you do not carry condoms in your wallet?)

@wellbelesbian @urban-sith @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @johnwgrey @fatalfangirl @prettylightsbigcity @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @dragoneggo @captain-aralias @theotherhufflepuff @otherworldsivelivedin @excalisbury @shemakesmeforget @starwarned @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @gekkoinapeartree @bazzybelle @bloodiedpixie @stardustasincocaine @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @angelsfalling16 @basiltonbutliketheherb @messofthejess @ivelovedhimthroughworse @nightimedreamersworld @artsyunderstudy @foolofabookwyrm-activated @ionlydrinkhotwater @yellobb

[thesmokingguns]

Soulmate Search Chapter 9

Maddie POV

I wouldn’t leave the hotel room.

I found whatever way I could to drag Izzy into bed, showing him all the ways that I loved him with my body. Distracting him with my lips on his, my tongue tracing fivers over his skin and leaving pretty little bite marks as if to say ‘mine’. If he had thought something was wrong he didn’t push me and I appreciated it.

But it was day six and all of New York that I had seen was the inside of the hotel room. My anxiety was so piqued that I had to keep the curtains drawn because I didn’t want to see the way outside was so dreary. It didn’t matter if it was sunny days because to me all New York would ever be was cloudy skies.

Izzy slid into the hotel room from a busy day recording, looking at where I laid in bed, a paperback in my hands as I waited for him.

“We’re going to dinner.” my eyes snapped up to him, he was holding a dress bag in one hand and a bag in the other. A look on his face making it known that he was absolutely not going to take no for an answer.

Pushing myself up I looked at him, ready to tell him no, absolutely not but Izzy was already moving to the closet where his clothes hung, getting himself ready. He came bounding back towards me, unzipping the dress bag as my eyes took in the sight of  the shimmering silver dress.

It was extravagant and Izzy wasn’t the type to do such big shows of things.

“I bought shoes and jewelry too. I just want one night out with you in New York, my beloved. One night together for a nice dinner, a walk on the busy streets, maybe even a picture together in Times Square.'' He was begging me and I knew that this meant a lot to him, even if he wouldn't say that.

Izzy had imagined the New York trip going very differently. He had imagined showing me the city and exploring together but I had put a damper on the trip. My fingers moved over the fabric of the dress, letting the smile slip onto my face.

It was easy to give into Izzy.

“I hope you don’t want to leave soon. I need  time to get ready.” i was twirling away from him with the dress and grabbing the shoes, ready to commandeer the bathroom. Two arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting me up as I squealed out a laugh.

“We’re going to shower together because I know what it’s like with you getting ready.” He set me on my feet when we reached the tile, moving to turn on the shower as I hung up the dress on the back of the door.

Jeffrey was turning on the shower, his back to me. I was watching him, his dyed black hair curling at the end from a long day. I loved the way his curls looked when he let them dry when we were not going anywhere. I would play with them until he pretended to be annoyed and playfully would bat my hands away.

How was I supposed to tell him that I was married?

“You have that look on  your face.” I blinked, realizing that Jeffrey was staring at me, looking at me like I was carrying the news of death with me. “I know whenever you  get that look you’re going to either fight with me or tell me something that makes me need to punch someone.” The problem with soulmates is you got to know each other on a deeper basis. Body language and looks seem to be a second language.

Which left me the choice to either: A.Tell him the complete truth and deal with all the shit storm that came with it or B. Lie my fucking ass off or option C….

“Why don’t we just have a goodnight tonight and we can talk about this in the morning?” I thought he might go for this but he was turning to shut off the water, arms crossing as he looked at me like he knew I was about to say something that was going to make him want to shut down.

Jeffrey sighed, pressing his eyes as he mentaly prepared himself for the next round of bad news I was about to deliver and I felt myself folding in. Crossing my arms and lifting my toe to rub behind my cal as I panicked.

“We are going to get through everything, my beloved. Please just tell me what it is so we can come up with a plan together.” He was being practical and I could appreciate that. My heart thundered in my ears as I wondered how long this would last.

“I’m married.”

Jeffrey opened his eyes, looked at me like I had slapped him and told him I had an incurable diagnosis. He turned after looking at me like that, vomiting in the toilet as my words made him physically sick.

Izzy POV

Married. My soulmate is married.

She was on her knees as I vomited in the toilet, feeling like I had got the stomach flu from just her words. Her hands rubbed my back and I was aware she was crying as she tried to calm me down.

Married. Not to me.

This was the cruelest joke the universe has played on me this far.

Falling back on my ass I took my head in my hands, looking down at the tile floor as I tried to think of what to say, or what to do.

“Jeffrey…I’m so…” my eyes flashed up to look at Maddie. The fear so clear across her face and I knew she was upset.

But she had her initials. She knew that she had a soulmate and her marriage was a slap in the face. It was worse than her just being a stupid kid and trying to get them removed, she knew I was out there and she married someone else. A spit in my face.

Pushing myself up, my hands shook. Maddie was standing across from me as I looked at the dress and then her.

“Put the dress on, I’ll give you an hour to get ready.” She nodded, knowing not to fight me when I was like this, knowing that there was meaning behind my rage and I was justified to be feeling it.

He was in New York and Maddie also knew where he was. I needed him to come with us, glad I came home early enough we should be able to find a town hall where soulmate divorces could be handled. Where this mistake could be fixed. Where Maddie could marry me and we could right this wrong.

I needed to fix this. It was the only way.

It only took her forty minutes to get ready, sparkling as she came out of the bathroom. She looked breathtaking, every bit the bride that I wanted her to play.

“I’m sorry.” But I had moved past apologies, grabbing her hand I pulled her close to me, kissing her as she melted into my arms, the relief as tension lifted from her body made me smile.

“We’re going to fix this all now, my beloved. The only person you should be married to is me.” Her eyes lifted, understanding what I meant but seeming to be taken off guard by this comment.

Maddie POV

For some reason when I imagined Jeffrey proposing I pictured something romantic. He was all about the soulmate life and I thought he would want something lavish to show we were bonded forever.

I did not expect to be in a dress meant for dancing in the back or a yellow cab on the way to my husband's house that we had shared with Jeffreytonight. I knew he was planning on getting my marriage annulled and then quickly taking away my single status by marrying me the same night.

But I also knew how hurt Jeffrey was and how he needed this to prove it was real and it was going to be okay. I had to push aside what I wanted for him.

“I’m sorry.” I was apologizing again and Jeffrey was reaching for my hand, kissing my fingers as I thought about how I should have handled all of this before I went to LA.

But I had been running blind and I wanted to hurt Jeffrey because I had been hurt. That plan seemed to be working now that I had already canceled it.

“I want to know that you’re mine, my beloved. It’s been…” he exhaled and I shifted into his lap, stroking his face.

“I should have told you. It’s a big deal and I didn't tell you about it.” He didn’t say anything, he just wanted to get this over with. “I love you.” The words felt small, stupid but his lips on the side of my head were the comfort I needed.

“I love you too, my beloved. Always.”

Izzy POV

Maddie was behind me, squeezing my hand like she wanted to shatter the bones as I knocked on the apartment door. Beautiful, confident, my Darling girl being this upset just fueled the fire inside me.

My hand raised again to knock but the door squealed open and a man around 50 wearing glasses and a sweater opened up. He had gray in his temples and lines on his face that showed age.

“Can I help you?” He must be the asshole's dad and I was more annoyed by the well you do man’s presence now.

“I’m looking for-“ I stopped as he caught sight of Maddie, stepping towards me as he reached for her.

There was no way.

“Jackson. My sweet Angel.” She had married this old man.

My nose curled up, and I could see Jackson looking up at him like she was scared of this senior citizen. The initials on his wrist made me pause. He had a soulmate. Was that why she had left? He had found his match and suddenly my beloved wasn’t good enough for him?

“We’re just here for a city hall divorce so we can be on our way.” the man blinked, like he wasn’t hearing what I was saying, his eyes screwed up and he looked at Jackson. His eyes scanning her until he saw through the low cut dress, MY initials on her body.

I turned, watching the way that she lifted her finger, tracing them like she wanted him to know that she had found me and we were together. For some reason the small way her fingers slid over her skin made my heart beat extra hard, the blood rushing to my face as I watched her lift her eyes up to me, tilting her head as she looked at me.

Mine, all mine.

“I don’t want a divorce.” her head snapped to the man and I was looking at him as well, the initials on his wrist and she shook her head, “I still believe in love. Our love, my sweet angel. I believe-”

My fist cocked and I turned to let go of Jackson but she was stepping in front of me, her fist colliding with the man's face before I could punch him. He fell back into the house as the sneer on Jackson’s face turned her from a beautiful angel to my strong demoness.

“You’re going to come with us and you’re going to divorce me.” she looked up at me, like she was checking what was happening was okay.

Wrapping her in my arms I Nodded, watching the way he rubbed the blood from his nose looking between us and knowing that we weren’t going to leave without him. It was time, time for us to be together.

Time for my beloved  to be my wife.

[nat-20s]

fill of @jonmartinweek day 6 prompt- flirting AND jealousy, though much heavier on the jealousy than the flirting. Set in a classic “season 5 jmart time travel bac to season 1″ au

~*~

“Mr. Blackwood-Sims, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re trying to proposition me.”

“Mr. Sims-Blackwood, I would never. For one, neither of us are inclined towards those sorts of activities, for second, we’re both married men. What would my husband say?”

“I believe your husband would say he never specified exactly what you were propositioning, and he would be more than amenable to kissing, preferably sometime in the next few seconds.”

“Mmm, suppose I’ll have to find him and take him up on that, then. If that’s really how he feels.”

“Trust me, it most certainly is.”

Christ, would those two shut up already? Granted, it’s late enough that they probably think they’re alone in the archives, but, still. This is, technically, a work place, and Jon would’ve preferred not to have accidentally gotten an eyeful as he made his way past the open door in the breakroom. Now, the image of (supposedly) a future version of himself sitting on the couch, with (supposedly) a future version of Martin straddling his legs, using one hand to cup his face, and the other to run his hands through that Jon’s longer hair, was seared into his mind, and he hated it. Look, contrary to what people who don’t know him very well seemed to believe, he’s hardly a prude. He’s more than fine with descriptions of physical intimacy, as well as public displays of affection. If he’s being honest with himself, deep down, he doesn’t even care all that much about professionalism, especially considering it is after hours.

But of course, he’s not being honest with himself, because then he’d have to admit that it bothers him that it’s them. He doesn’t know what to call the acrid burning in the pit of his stomach, the too tight ache in his chest, that’s present whenever the fun house mirror versions of himself and Martin are besotted with each other, but he knows it’s there. It doesn’t help that he’s the only one that seems to be bothered by it, the only one that frowns at the flash of wedding rings or the orbit those two always seem to occupy around each other.

Or, no, he’s not the only one. Occasionally, while witnessing the two of them being...the Two of Them, he can’t help glancing over to Martin. Lo and behold, Martin also doesn’t look thrilled about all of this, usually skewing more towards confusion or, oddly enough, resignation. At least, that’s what Jon thinks he sees there, it’s one of the few times where he can’t fully get a read on Martin.

Still, as much as Martin might share in being somewhat perturbed, as anyone who meets their “future selves” should be, Martin doesn’t seem nearly as upset as Jon is. That brings him back to his current predicament of feeling that level of upset, but not being able to determine the root cause of it.

It is not that he’s jealous. It’s not! He does not feel a pang of envy at seeing someone who looks extremely similar to himself loving openly, and being openly loved in return. He doesn’t find his thoughts drifting to the imagined feeling of lips pressed to his temple or arms around his waist or fingers running through his hair. He certainly hasn’t looked down at his left hand and been disappointed by the fact that its bare. He doesn’t even want those things, as he’s been telling himself for a number of many lonely years. One of these days he might even believe it.

Fine. Fine. Maybe, but only maybe, there’s a part of him that’s jealous. Maybe there’s even a part of him that despairs, because try as he might he can’t connect point A to point B, can’t see the steps he would have to take to be like that other version of himself, and he knows his Martin (well, not his Martin, but..) will never look at him like that, will never see him in that light. And, damn it all, it hurts, so if they could kindly stop ru-

Oh. Wait. He can’t hear them outside his office door anymore. Huh, perhaps they-

“Knock knock.”

Startled out of his...contemplation, Jon looks up to find himself looking back. Sims is leaning against the door-frame, with mussed hair, swollen lips, and pupils blown wide. Jon loathes him and wishes to be him in equal measure. In a move he usually would’ve thought more characteristic of Tim, Sims doesn’t wait for a response, instead sitting himself across from Jon and saying, “Figured you’d still be here.”

Trying not to sound too much like he’s speaking through gritted teeth, Jon asks, “Did you now?”

Sims gives a lackadaisical shrug. “With any luck, you’re not going to become me. I not sure you can become me, at this point, diverging paths and all that. However, we do share the first 28 years of our lives, and I certainly didn’t believe in the concept of a work life balance, so why would you?”

“Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually. I want you to ask out Martin, your moping is getting insufferable, and considering how much of our misery has been entirely outside of our control, you shouldn’t put up with what is in your power to fix.”

Jon blinks. Jon processes. Jon stammers. “I-what?! I am not, you can’t just-. Martin doesn’t even like me, and if you really were the same person as me, you know I’m not all that keen on him either.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you can’t stop thinking about his hands?”

“I do no-”

Sims puts a hand up in surrender, though the smirk doesn’t entirely drop. “Sorry, sorry, I know that’s rather unhelpful. What I mean is, you’re already loved, right now, as you are. No, that love is not coming from Martin, but it could be,t because he doesn’t dislike you.  He doesn’t know you, because you have done everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t. You also don’t know him, even though you’re interested in him, because you’ve been trying not to be. It’s stupid. Get to know each other. It’ll probably work out.”

“I...is that how you did it? Because this seems like an objectively terrible idea.”

Sims snorts. “God, no. It took a coma before I was able to untangle my own feelings. The whole point is that you won’t have to take the same looping, painful path that I did.”

Jon wants to reject it outright, almost does, and yet. “Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Why?’

“Nothing, just. We’re usually a more stubborn on these sorts of things. I was expecting more of a fight.”

“Mm. Normally, I would be, but I’ve been forced to watch two rather obvious proof of concepts waltzing around in front of me, and agreeing will hopefully get you the hell out of my office.”

Sims studies him for a moment, then a surprised smile spreads on his face. “All right then.”

Jon makes a dismissive hand wave, and Sims obliges, and he spends the rest of the night trying not to think about what he’s agreed to.

~*~

The next day, about half an hour before the end of the work day, Jon calls Martin into his office. From his tight shoulders and carefully blank expression, it’s clear Martin very much does not want to be there. Great. This is going to go so well.

Jon gestures for him to sit, Martin does, and he dives in. “As we both now know, I don’t have the ability to fire you. In all reality, even though I am, on paper, your boss, I truly don’t have any power or authority over you.”

Martin leans back in his seat, letting a heavy pause fall between them before saying a stilted, “Okay?”

“So, I want you to know that I am about to ask you a question, and you have complete freedom and choice over your response, without fear of any negative consequences. Alright?”

“Um. Sure.”

Jon takes a breath, slowly lets it out, and bites the bullet. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Martin stares. Then he squints. Then he studies. “Oh. Jon, you...we’re not them, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“So..why?”

Jon lets out a sigh, and tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense to either of them. “Well, though I myself have some trouble with the concept, they’re not..entirely removed from who we are, and there’s enough foundation there that I have reason to believe we might...get on? Maybe we don’t, maybe we end up being friends, maybe we end up like them. That’s already enough to pique my own curiosity, but, alternate future versions of us aside, I mostly would just like to get to know more about you, and I’m hoping you might like to get to know me better as well.”

Martin’s shoulders relax, and he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before replying, “Okay. Yeah, why not?”

“Oh. Oh! Great! Does this Saturday work for you?”

“Works perfectly. Let’s give a shot.”

The first date is..fine. A Bit of a mess, but fine. The second date, however, is the best Jon’s ever been on. It’s so wonderful, in fact, that he doesn’t even mind when he catches Blackwood passing a fiver to Sims the day he can’t stop smiling at work.

[equalseleventhirds]

can i tell all of you about fiver? would that be okay? i don't have, like, people i can talk to at length about him. i want to tell his whole story to someone, i think. i want to remember him, his whole time with me, and not just the end.

you don't have to read it, i just. want to type it all out.

fiver's last owner brought him into her home. i don't know a lot of details, but she said he was a rescue, that his first owner hadn't socialized him or taken care of him. that's why he was always so fighty, even years and years later.

a few months after she got him, i moved in. i felt a bit like a rescue, lonely and newly-far from a home that hadn't always been kind, and struggling to learn about myself and where i fit in. the people there welcomed me in, and i felt at home.

and i met fiver, back when he was so afraid of people that he hid inside his cage whenever anyone came into the room, and bit and snapped at anyone who came near him.

i didn't know anything about rabbits; i'd barely been allowed goldfish when i was growing up, and i'd always sworn i'd have cats when i was an adult. a rabbit was a surprise.

but he was, you know, adorable and small and i wanted to get to know him, how to take care of him. i asked his owner questions. i googled things. i learned.

i used to lie on the floor for hours waiting for him to come and cautiously sniff me. eventually he'd run around the room while i was around, even hop up on the bed to see me. he'd let me pet him (when he felt like it; he also might grunt and growl and try to bite, or if he was feeling generous just smack me with his paws.) i helped take care of him, got him food and treats, cleaned his cage, brushed him, clipped his nails. brought him to a bigger room to run around regularly and get exercise. got him toys and played games with him. i was never his mommy (that was his owner), never had a parental title, but i became 'auntie algie' (gender and so on aside, that's who i was to him).

about a year after i moved in, fiver's owner, tired of both me and him (neither of us as sweet or biddable as our small, fluffy exteriors seemed; both of us contrary and untrusting and prone to snapping), moved away. gradually cut off communication. left me with this rabbit and no real home for either of us. (i don't blame her; like i said, i'm contrary and untrusting and prone to snapping. i get it. we were young, and she had a better life to live. i hope she's living it.)

i could've.... well, i could've done a lot of things, probably. but what i did was find a pet-friendly place for us to live, and took him with me.

(there were also two rats i was left with, who i also loved dearly, and a third i adopted as well. but rats live even shorter lives than rabbits, and they have been gone for many years now. i still miss them. fiver was friends with them, while they were here.)

we moved around quite a bit, for a while. had some roommates. crashed with a friend when those roommates also fell through. got a teeny tiny one-room apartment, eventually, just me and fiver.

i was very lonely during those years. pretty depressed, also. not doing great in the general life and living it department.

but fiver helped. he needed me; i was all he had. so i got my shit together just enough. kept rent paid. went to the grocery store regularly enough to keep both of us fed (and once a week, the farmer's market, to get special treats for him). kept track of his food and so on to order more on time. cleaned out his cage every few days, which meant taking out the trash every few days.

i would talk to him, in that lonely little apartment, when i had no one else to talk to. it's a habit i kept up even after we moved into my current apartment with my current roommate, who i can talk to now. but i had a very lonely job and a very lonely apartment for a while, and i talked to fiver more than anyone else for quite a while.

and when i finally did move, left wisconsin and found a place here in new york, i had to bring him with me. easier said than done, because i couldn't take him on the train, didn't trust airlines with him, and couldn't drive, and so i swallowed my pride and called up my parents for help. went on a road trip with my dad, which, given i was nearly no-contact with them at that point, sure was a fucking thing. but i'm grateful for that, because i got to keep fiver with me the whole way.

i remember how good he was in the car. i'd gotten him a new carrier specially for the occasion, a really big one so he'd have room to stretch out. (i kept that carrier. i brought him to the vet in that carrier, in the week before he passed.) i fed him pellets and greens and and hay and held spoonfuls of water through the opening in the carrier because the ride was too bumpy for a water bottle or open bowl, and he ate and drank and sat comfy in his carrier and wasn't scared a bit, over a three-day car ride (and two nights in motels, when he was let out of the carrier for a few hours and at one point scared the life out of me by escaping the little pen i'd made for him and zooming around the room).

he was so brave, you know? he used to hide away from people, at the beginning; the last few years of his life, he wouldn't even hide from my roommate's dog. they weren't allowed in the same room (just in case), but the dog would come up to the pet gate separating them, and fiver would just ignore him and go eat his snacks. he wasn't afraid of fireworks or car rides. when new people went into his room, he'd run right up to them and try to chew the hems of their pants.

he chewed through... so many of my things. blankets. clothes. shoes. like six different computer cords, even though i tried to keep them away from him. countless headphone cords. he loved chewing things he should not chew. he also liked to dig and throw and fight his way through blankets, towels, pillowcases (that's my icon; him victorious over a battle with a pillowcase).

he'd also lick blankets and pillows and stuff like he was grooming it, which was so funny because he'd never groom me. i could groom him, but i wasn't allowed to be groomed; apparently according to bunny hierarchy that meant that he was the one in charge. i like to think grooming my belongings was grooming me by proxy while still maintaining his pride.

he slowed down a little, the last couple of years. his joints weren't quite as good anymore, so he took things slow. spent a lot of time resting. would still race for the food bowl anytime i gave him pellets or greens or a cookie. would still chew up my stuff. was still plenty fighty. (that was one of the two things the vet always said about him, at his annual checkups. fighty, and also so handsome. a beautiful and angry boy, that was him.)

i don't want to dwell too long on the end. i made some posts about his health stuff. he went from still kind of okay to really bad very quickly. a couple of times we thought he was improving, and then he. didn't.

i was alone with him for several hours, after, because the vet was about to close when he passed and my roommate wasn't home. i cleaned him up and hugged him and wrapped him up safe in a soft soft towel, one of the ones he'd been resting on in his cage. i took him to the vet, and by now they've given him to the cremation service, and next week i will have his ashes.

i still open my mouth as i'm going to my bedroom, about to start talking to fiver. even when i left to just go to the bathroom or get water, every time i stepped back into that room i'd say hi to him and ask how he was doing, tell him he was my good and darling boy, ask if he wanted a snack. i did that for years, and it's hard not to do it now. it's quiet, and it's quiet because i'm not talking to him.

but we had so many years together. i had so many years when i had him to talk to, even at the loneliest point of my life.

i miss him. but i'm so glad i had him. and i'm glad he had me. a couple of contrary, abandoned, bitey little creatures we were, but we were together.

[ID: a photo of my rabbit fiver, a brown dutch rabbit, eating some greens.]

[ID: another photo of fiver, sitting on a blanket.]

[greektravelblog]

Day 10 and 11 (Part 2)

Once we got home, I took a shower and ordered sushi! The soy sauces here at this one restaurant are shaped like little fish!! It was delicious and I definitely ordered more the next day. 

 Day 11 started with me waking up on my own accord. (Thank God for sleep!) And I took my time getting ready and watched some tv to avoid the hottest temps of the day. After a taxi ride into the city, I visited the flea market! Which was amazing! Since it was sunday, only tourists were in the city, and I loved the calm-ish nature of the city. The first thing I spotted was a vendor who had things that would be perfect for my dad. I picked out two, and then realized I didn't have cash on me. I asked him if he would hold onto them for a bit and he told me "No, you go. I trust you. You go." He refused to take them back so I assured him I'd be right back. After finding a fiver in my wallet I had forgotten about, and buying a 2 dollar magnet in order to pull cash from my account, I went back as fast as I could and handed him the money. He smiled when he saw me and said "See? I knew I could trust you. I look at people and I know. I know when I can trust. Thank you." I thanked him for trusting me and he proceeded to say, "Thank me? Thank you! Enjoy our city, and come back to see me, yes?" I nodded and made my way back down the street. 

Several stores later, I came across another that seemed to hold a bit of everything. Yknow those antique stores that are filled from ceiling to floor with stuff, yeah that was this. I asked the owner if he had something my dad would like, and we spent twenty minutes pouring over different choices before I decided on something. He even included some free pieces for me and when he said it was cash only, I told him I didn't have enough and would run to grab more, he refused and took my card anyways. After thanking him, I made note of the store and realized that that area was filled with antique vendors and stores. It made me miss my dad. I miss going to antique stores with him and mom and having a bunch of history lessons even if it was about stuff I didn't particularly care about. 

Don't tell him I said that. 

I'm not completely home sick yet, but those older shop owners reminded me of my dad and his car buddies that I'd see at Berryville or other car shows. 

Today, I'm not doing much. I'm taking a day off to rest and recoup before going back to classes. So I also decided to use the time to update you all. 

Things I've taken away from today:

Evil eyes are big in Greece, despite it being a Christian country. They believe in positive energy and karma. 

Just like WV, you can, in fact, fine really good sushi here. 

You will not be able to open your eyes underwater here, it's too salty.

Shop owners treat you like family and all Greeks love to talk to you. Even the taxi drivers. 

Mango and Passionfruit slushies slap

If there's no boats coming in, you can jump off the port and no one will yell at you. 

Tiny churches are everywhere in Aegina. 

Nothing will beat fresh pressed OJ, baguettes, and macarons from here. 

Greeks who don't know english will ask you for names of items, and teach the greek equivalents in return. 

Despite the driving being worse than NYC, Taxi drivers are relatively calm.  

More later!

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

The things we never tell.

[[Zuko x Reader]]

Summary: After the war Y/N strays away from her friends, and her relationship with Zuko seemed everytime more distant, slowly she starts to fall into a darker place.

A/N: I took a very extensive but very needed break, I’m incredibly sorry to anyone who sent me a request before I disappeared and was left waiting for me to post it but my mental health was not the best during this past few months and it’s been hard to do anything at all. But I’m back and I hope writing again gives me a sense of purpose or something lol. Talking about mental health, this fic talks about heavy topics like depression and isolation, if you’re not confortable with that or are going through this stuff I recommend skipping this one, I will have lighter fics coming soon. Remember you are never alone, no matter how much you feel like it. There’s always someone to reach out to or ask for help.

Requested: Yes!!!! By a lovely blog that deactivated but went by the name of aristasiaclarke :( (yes that’s how long I’ve been away) But side note, if you sent me a request before my break and would still like me to write it send it to me again I’d be more that happy to do it!

Warnings: Depression, Anxety, Isolation, Angst

~IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK ~

The war was over, it had been for months now, yet some things hadn’t gone back to normal . You decided to stay in the palace after Zuko was crowned since your relationship with him had only grown stronger by being so close to losing eachother. Your friends on the other hand all went their separate ways. The friend group you’d spent so many days with, planning on how to defeat the firelord, training, camping, going on missions, it all became just memories and it had been so long since you’d all been together last. You couldn’t complain though, you understood after everything that had happened all your friends were left with many responsibilities laying on their shoulders and, in a way, none of you were the same kids you were when this adventure started. You had all grown up.

Zuko and you spent a lot of time together those first few months since you moved in, that period of time when his people understood his need to settle into his position and take charge of his nation, but after that was over the workload was relentless, Zuko had been left with a broken nation and the full responsibility of fixing it. At first he always made sure to eat every meal with you, chat and update you on everything new that had happened, little by little he started to miss lunch and then it was dinner, soon breakfast and any midday break was gone as well. It came to a point where you rarely saw him at all, him working so late you were usually asleep by the time he came to bed, if he did at all, and you waking up to an empty bed every morning.

Slowly but surely a feeling you knew all too well started reappearing in your chest, something you hadn’t felt in years and were too scared of to even acknowledge. You tried to figure out what to do with all the free time you had in your hands so the feeling wouldn’t consume your mind, you remodeled at least fiver rooms in the palace, picked up several hobbies, offered your help to servants all around just to be rejected, anything and everything your mind could think of, but nothing was enough. That darkness and emptiness inside of you seemed to be determined to conquer your every waking moment once again.

Last time this happened you had your old friends around you, back at home. You family did everything they could to help you, and little by little you learnt how to heal. But this was different, all you had now were empty hallways that lead to even emptier rooms, and the ones that weren’t empty you weren’t permitted to go into.

Days were longer and shorter at the same time; on one hand, a day seemed to last ages, all you did was wait til night fell so you could go back to bed and rest, on the other you started spending more time inside your room, taking naps here and there turned into sleeping most of your days, taking baths became a task harder than any of the ones you’d had to complete in your adventure days, the curtains stayed closed and the bed unmade, day and night slowly started to blend in together.

Servants noticed first, they knocked on the door several times a day to ask if you needed anything at all, to which you would always answer no. When you stopped going to the dinner hall they started to bring food to you, most of which you didn’t eat. One too many times they even had to drag you to the bath so they could get a chance to clean your room.

It was your personal maid who had decided to finally bring in the palace medic. After running some tests on you he concluded there was nothing wrong with you and all it could be was hormonal changes. But hormonal changes weren’t supposed to last weeks, not to mention months.

The maid tried encouraging you to go out to town, visit some new boutique that had opened or a restaurant with great reviews, but all you ever said was “maybe tomorrow”. She came to understand that tomorrow wouldn’t come.

—————————

One day she decided to not stand by and witness a girl who had once been the light in every room wither away. It took all her courage to approach the fire lord,. Even though she knew of his kindness and how different he was from his predecessor he was still an intimidating ruler.

“Fire lord” she called as the young man walked through the palace surrounded by his officials, discussing some political matter she assumed. He didn’t seem to hear her so she sped up and stood in front of the group of men.

“I’m sorry but any issue at the moment will have to wait, important matters need to be addressed with urgency.” He informed her with his usual formal tone.

“Your majesty, it’s miss Y/N, she-” the maid started but was soon interrupted

“Yes, well if she requires my presence please inform her I’m occupied at the moment, but whatever she needs she can ask the help to do it for her.” Zuko attempt to walk past her but the maid stopped him once again.

“Your majesty, I hope I’m not being too bold but I don’t think you understand, she’s very unwell.” the maid saw as Zuko was about to protest her audacity, but once his eyes fell on her he seemed to realize the seriousness of the matter.

Zuko’s heart sank, all kinds of thoughts went through his head, had you gotten injured? Had one of the rebellious groups he’d been dealing with infiltrated the castle and taken you? had you fallen ill with a terrible condition? He soon turned to his second in command and said “You can take charge from here”

The man rather surprised replied after a few seconds “Your majesty, this matter requires your presence, it can not wait.”

“Well it will have to, I’m going to be unavailable the rest of the day. I’m sure you all can manage without me.”

———————

Nothing could’ve prepared Zuko for the sight he encountered when he entered the royal chambers. He hadn’t sleept there a few nights in a row, not wanting to wake you up at late hours when he was done with his workload of the day, but even when he did sleep there he was too tired to even notice anything wrong. Now, at broad daylight, he saw it all.

You were cuddled up under the covers, your hair matted and messier than ever, very dark under eye bags and an extremely pale complexion, even laying down and under blankets and covers he could tell you’d lost a worryingly amount of weight. He’d never seen you in such state.

“What happened to her? Is she ill?” Zuko asked the maid who stood next to him.

“The medic has been called, your majesty, he wasn’t able to point out anything wrong with her. Said it was just hormonal changes, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on.” she said softly.

“Well then bring another doctor in. Someone has to know what’s wrong.”

“Yes, your majesty, we’ll being someone else in first thing tomorrow.” she bowed and was about to leave the room when the firelord stopped her.

“Thank you... for bringing this to my attention and for looking after her.”

The maid just bowed once again and made her way out of the room. Zuko walked up to you, your eyes were closed and even in your sleep an uneasy expression was plastered on your face.

“Love...” he cooed stoking the side of your face slowly. “Hey, darling... wake up.”

He made sure to rest his hand on your forehead to see if you had a fever, but on the contrary you were rather cold. You barely opened your eyes, but it was enough for Zuko to see how the light that had once been there was now gone.

“Zuko?” you asked, your voice barely audible and raspy as you tried to blink the sleepiness away slowly.

“Hey, do you feel sick Y/N? Does anything hurt?” Zuko’s hand had moved from your forehead to your cheek and his thumb was now sweetly caressing your skin.

You hadn’t felt a loving touch in what felt like so long, you’d almost forgotten that you could feel something good and not painful. It was all it took for tears to slowly start forming in your eyes and eventually rolling down your face.

At the sight of your partner’s concern, you forced yourself to smile a little and respond “Nothing hurts.”

“Y/N... something’s not right. I’ve never seen you like this before, i need you to tell me what’s going on.” Zuko’s voice was almost breaking, you could tell how hard he was trying to be strong and keep collected for you, this broke your heart even more.

You took in a deep breath, your mind running while trying to find an answer for him. You knew what was wrong, you’d ignored it so far, pushed it away even though it now consumed your every waking moment, but you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. “I don’t feel well, Zuko. I haven’t for a while now.”

“Are you ill? We’ve called a doctor already, he should be-” He said before you cut him off.

“Zuko... It’s not that kind of unwell.” you almost whispered. “A doctor can’t help me with this.”

The firelord seemed lost for a while, not quite sure of what you meant. You took a second before sitting up on the bed and pressing your back against the headboard. You decided to recount the events of the last time you’d gone through this to him, every sleepless night and every full of sleep day, the multiple crying sessions, the pain and hopelessness, the ever changing appetite, the heavy chest you couldn’t seem to get rid of. This was all terribly hard for you to do but needed to be done, for your sake and for his. Zuko didn’t seem to understand at first, his eyes looking at you attentively, waiting for the moment where the pieces of your story would fall into place. It took you saying how what was wrong with you wasn’t physical but rather emotional for him to get what you were referring to. His face had fallen into a heartbreaking expression, you didn’t know if it was guilt or pity or something in between.

Once you were done and the tears that pooled in your eyes while tellling your story had fallen, Zuko held your hand tightly. “This is all my fault. You should’ve been my priority.”

“Zuko...no. This isn’t your fault, it’s nobody’s fault.” You assured him as your hand went up to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry. You shouln’t have had to deal with this alone. You were there for me when no one else was and I want to do the same for you, always.” He tilted his head into your palm before turning slightly to kiss it.

“I’d like that... I really would.”

For the rest of that night, you and your partner opened up to each other like you’d never had before. For the first time since the war had ended you didn’t feel so alone, you were together and that made you feel like you had the strength to get better, maybe not today or in the days to come, but someday. He gave you hope.

[ciggylungz]

Pray to me

word count. 4,077

Warnings-like probably the most risky smut i’ve ever written, church sex, wild stuff (sorry)

Pray to me:

(A random little smutty one shot relating to my bad boy harry series, it’s not going to affect the story line so just imagine this is another au for my au that’s an au. I just gave myself a stroke writing that.)

__

Detention.

A ‘punishment’ Harry Styles was used to getting by now, he was in his third year of Catholic high school and to say he has gotten his fair share of detention slips is a gross understatement. You’d think being surrounded by crosses would help subdue his cursing yet Harry didn’t seem to inherit the same fear his classmates did by the ‘word of god’ that was crammed down his throat every day. So, it wasn’t exactly tolerated when the boy strung a slew of curses together to describe the head Priest, or when he got caught smoking spliffs in the boys bathroom when he was supposed to be in math and well, those choices led him to where he is now. Slouched in a pew whilst the head nun was giving him a proper tongue lashing and explaining to him that he was to clean the chapel from top to bottom, smooth any creased pages in the 300 bibles that were stacked in the rows of pews, get any gum off the under side of them as well and wipe down the stain glass windows. The school had called his mum to tell her he would be home very late that day knowing the job would take a solid 4 or 5 hours to complete and that’s if he rushed it. To say he was pissed was putting it lightly, yet the biggest shock was yet to come when he heard the heavy wooden doors open and slam again as another person shuffled inside.

“Miss Yln, you’re here. Mister Styles here can tell you the duties you both must complete, here are the keys lock the doors when you both are finished. We’ll expect to meet with you before mass tomorrow to get a proper apology once the work if finished. Right-o, chop chop kids.”

The grouchy wrinkle faced nun thrust the keys into an anxious Y/n’s hands while she shuffled her way towards the exit, giving a careless slam of the 20 pound doors causing both Harry and Y/n to flinch. Harry was genuinely surprised to see Y/n there with him, he’s used to seeing her at mass or in line at confessional but detention? That was a new one for her. He took his time standing from his seat, cracking his back and neck whilst he settled onto his feet, casting a curious glance at the girl who stuck out like a sore thumb in the somber hostile environment. He knew Y/n well, he considers her a friend which is rare since he’s not the friendliest of people around town. Yet he liked Y/n, she was cute as button and what teenage boy doesn’t find an innocent girl wearing a catholic school uniform appealing?

“well well well miss sunshine, what did you do to get yourself this torment?” Harry gave her the quick once over, using his typical teasing nickname for the girl just to get her cheeks to blush a bit and help lighten the mood. Y/n blew out a breath out through her plump glossed lips, subconsciously stomping her foot a bit in annoyance which Harry thought was funny, and also cute. “I accidentally said a bad word in class! James tricked me into saying it and Sister Amy heard and gave me detention.” Her pout grew further when the boy chuckled at her attitude. “How did he trick yeh into saying somethin’?” Y/n grunted a bit, very peeved and mentally hexing James for what his actions caused her, “He said hold your tongue while you say apple…” Harry at this point was letting out a belly laugh, just imagining Y/n’s face when she realized she’d said asshole and finding humor in how ditzy she could be sometimes. “You fell for that? Did you not have a childhood? I thought everyone knew that trick, hon” Y/n simply smacked his arm and tossed the keys onto the nearest surface. “Shush Harry” her little finger pointed at him, trying to be serious but he found it comical. His hands moved out to poke her sides, knowing exactly how ticklish she was feeling content as Y/n squirmed and squealed. Adorable giggles falling from her lips and making the chapel seem a bit less creepy, her tiny hands trying to push his biceps back to free herself from his tickling fingers. “Ah! Harry!-“ she was trying to speak between her laughs, the boy one year her senior smiled, dimples sinking into the flesh of his cheeks, “Dunno what you expected, love. You thought you could tell me to shush?! no one tells me to do princess.” “Okay! Okay I’m sorry! I take it back!” after what seemed like an eternity to Y/n, but was only a few ticks over a minute Harry finally let go, smiling down at her while he ruffled her hair chuckling to himself while she tried to straighten her uniform back out. “That was not a fair fight Harry, you had an unfair weight AND height advantage!” y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, you started it bossy pants. You’re lucky I didn’t throw yeh over m’ shoulder and tossed yeh around. You got off easy this time missy.”

Harry wasn’t typically so playful and relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cold around Y/n. How could he? She’s sunshine personified, the real version of the rhyme ‘sugar, spice and everything nice’.  The girl was the only thing that kept him from dropping out. Y/n makes day to day bullshit tolerable for him…and well she also has given her inspiration more than once when he couldn’t sleep at night and resorted to a quick wank while mumbling of dirty phrases topped off with her name to send him off to dreamland.

 _______________________________

After some more shenanigans, the pair got to work on their scheduled tasks.  Y/n had started in the bibles in the first 6 pews on the right side of the chapel while Harry dug through a supply closet to get a ladder out to wipe the windows. He was contemplating if he should pretend to fall and collect an insurance claim instead of actually cleaning the 12-foot art pieces but he decided against it by the time he found what he was looking for. After setting the ladder up and grabbing the giant duster Harry decided to take his first break, he knew he was just procrastinating but who cares? He decided during his break he’d get Y/n to take one with him. “Hey love, wanna take a fiver?” Y/n looked up from the 12th bible she had fixed giving him a frantic nod, her mind numb from the task she was busy doing.

“what do yeh wanna do?” she left the choice up to the older boy, watching as he bit his lip lightly in thought, shrugging and scooting in next to her. “truth or dare?” he wiggled his eyebrows tempting her and being the compliant and very bored girl, she was, Y/n agreed.

“Okay you first Harry, truth or dare?” the boy pondered for a moment before shrugging, “Truth” he didn’t miss the way she was fidgeting with her skirt all excited for the game. “Ok, have you ever uhmmmm got drunk?” her innocence laced her tone, genuine curiosity. Her voice slightly lowered as if what she was asking was naughty which of course got Harry to chuckle, “Yes, pretty much every weekend. You’ve never drank? Not even once, love?” his left eyebrow raised and she timidly shrugged “Nope, I only had wine at communion but then it’s only a sip. Never been drunk before…Okay your turn!” he hummed slightly, “Truth or dare y/n?” “uhhh dare!” at this point she was squirming in her seat from her giddiness, and Harry took full opportunity over the chance he had. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Y/n wasn’t exactly expecting that one. She thought maybe he’d dare her to say another bad word or smoke one of his cigarettes, but he wanted her to kiss him…and she was confused on why she wanted to. She didn’t want to say no, she had the urge to follow through with it. The girl noticed the butterflies in her stomach she was used to getting when around her older friend, and a blush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Harry sat with an amused smirk, darting his tongue out to lick over his lips whilst tipping his head to the side slightly, “cat got your tongue, love? What are yeh waiting for?” a pointer finger was placed under her chin to get her to look at him, and y/n decided it was better to bite the bullet and pushed her thoughts out of the way while quickly leaning in to give him a peck.

Harry was surprised she actually did it, feeling her lips on his for a split second before she pulled away with a shy giggle yet he was having none of that. “uh uh, a real kiss” his natural dominance reared it’s head when he grabbed the girl and plopped her on his lap, holding her jaw and planting his lips on her’s yet again coaxing her to move with him. When she didn’t respond how he wanted he tugged her hair a bit, biting her bottom lip and dragging it down so her mouth was pried open, “Being a tease y/n, keep your mouth open wanna taste ya’”

y/n’s head was swimming, she’d never done anything like this but her body went weak under Harry’s rough hold and demanding voice and so she complied opening her mouth so his tongue could infiltrate. She wasn’t really skilled in the kissing department; she’d only kissed one person before and it was nothing like this. Harry didn’t mind her clumsy, clueless movements he found it even hotter that she didn’t know what she was doing and he was the one cracking away at her purity. His heart was pumping, his fingers tangled in her hair as he tugged her by it to get her to move where he wanted her, it was hot. So fucking hot.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss he observed her. Plump lips now a flushed red, swollen and slick with her lingering lip gloss and their mixed spit. She was breathing heavily, eyes staring into his darkening ones. She looked amazing. “God…pet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuckin’ do that” his tongue darted out to lick over his own lips frowning when he got a heavy taste of sticky lip-gloss , “gotta get this off yeh, it’s too sticky” his sleeve was pulled down to cover his palm whilst he rubbed the remaining product off her delicious lips before shuffling it back up to bunch at his elbows. “There, look a little dazed petal. Yeh alright?” Y/n nodded quickly at the question, smiling a little bit before kissing his nose and each of his cheeks then going back to his lips mimicking how he’d kissed her prior. The boy could hardly contain himself, taking over the kiss and pulling her hands off his face holding both her wrists in one of his hands yanking them above her head so she was completely bound. “No no no, little love. I make the rules hon, you don’t. I didn’t say to kiss me again did i? I didn’t say you could touch me, hmm? Being a bit naughty aren’t yeh baby?”

To say she was overwhelmed and a tad confused was accurate, she had really no experience in any sort of sexual situations all she knew is she was going to listen to Harry. His gaze was enough to melt her into submission. “Words Y/n, did I tell you to do those things?” his grip on her wrist tightened a bit, “No….no you didn’t tell me to…” his eyes were staring into hers a subtle hum exiting his throat. “Good girl, now tell me your sorry.” “I’m sorry, Harry” an adorable pout decorated her lips, Harry was loving this.

He let go of her hands, both of them falling into her lap where she folded them, making sure to follow the new rule of not touching without permission, waiting for what was going to happen next. Only a moment later did Y/n feel Harry’s right thumb pressing into her bottom lip, eyes jumping to meet his, “open” she complied, letting him slip his thumb past her lips to rest on her tongue, “Close, now suck.”

Her confused gaze met his stern one while she started suckling on his digit. She didn’t really understand why he wanted her to suck his thumb, regardless she did it.

It was taking everything in Harry to not bend the girl over and shove himself inside her, god he fucking wanted to but he had something else in mind. Something more sinful than two teenagers having premarital sex in a chapel, no he wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could to the school, and the ‘god’ he was forced to submit to. He knew if all the preaching’s were true, this idea was his first-class ticket straight to the devil’s doorstep.

“Listen princess, you’re going to do what I say, okay?” Y/n gave a quick nod of her head, Harry scooting her off his lap and removing his thumb from her mouth as he guided her up the steps to of the pulpit where the priest usually gave his sermons, a holy pedestal of sorts but today it would get a new use.

“on your knees.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Harry stood in the center of the pulpit, the religious art work surrounding them did little to stop his ‘sinful’ desires. Desires of the flesh were the only thing on his mind.

Y/n was on her knees before him, looking up at her friend who had a smug sultry look on his beautiful face. His hands fumbled with his belt whilst he looked down at her.

“you’re going to pray to me now, angel.”

Y/n couldn’t believe she was really in this situation, kneeling under the podium in the pulpit where she hears sermons 5 days a week for 3 hours with Harry pulling his cock out. when he finally managed to get himself free a loud groan echoed in the sanctuary, one that made Y/n feel a tingle between her legs and salivate slightly. A strange new sensation she couldn’t describe, but she knew she liked it.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Y/n had never seen Harry’s eye’s look so dark, his tone so demanding and his breathing so heavy. His cock loomed over her face, bobbing slightly with every beat of his heart whilst something clear and sticky was leaking from the tiny slit in the top of it webbing onto the underside of his tip. She was nervous, but she did as she was told opening her sweet little mouth so the older boy could guide the crown of his cock into the warm cavern of her virgin mouth. The sensation was the closest thing to heavenly Harry had ever felt in this room, her mouth was warm and wet. Tongue slightly textured and slick with the nice, thick spit that comes from the back corners of your mouth. It’s better than any lube you can buy truly. He instructed her to suck his flesh, hollowing her cheeks and massaging his prick with the flesh of her mouth for the very first time in her life.

“Holy fucking shit, doll…you sure this is yeh first time? Good little cock sucker aren’t yeh? On your pretty knees, praying to me now huh?” Harry could see his cock pushing into the side of her cheek as she nodded, her mouth stuffed full of his leaking member, and because Harry was Harry and liked to really make a statement he decided if he was going to hell for this, he might as well make it worth it.

His fingers plucked one of the small wooden crosses off of the staircase on the pulpit, it was a decoration dedicated to Christ yet he had other plans for it.

The boy took a step back from Y/n, moaning slightly at the sight of her following after his cock when it started slipping from her lips. She wanted it, she liked it and god he fucking did too but he couldn’t wait any longer to execute the idea that just tumbled into his mind. Harry snapped his fingers in front of the drooly lipped girl, getting her attention on his eyes instead of the cock she wanted so desperately back in her mouth. “Up, don’t be greedy yeh can finish me off when I’m done with yeh..” Harry lifted the girl by her underarms up onto the flat part of the pedestal, where a bible was sat opened to a scripture that was suddenly smothered by the doe eyed girls round plump ass. Harry wishes he could dig his teeth into it but that’s for another time.

Y/n didn’t resist at all when he tipped her back a bit, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs. The only reaction she gave at first was a quick gasp when he ripped her school tights right at the crotch her white cotton panties now in his view. “cute” was mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the tiny pink bow stitched into the waistband of her panties, but soon they were gone as well pushed fully to the side to expose her cunt, a small smattering of light curls at the apex of her thighs. They looked soft, light and quite cute. He could tell they’d never been shaven off before by how soft they were, wasn’t a very course or thick section of hair. That was likely to come later in her life, but for now her cunt was the only thing he was willing to worship in the holy home of Christ.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…got a real nice little pussy, angel.” Y/n was past the point of being shy now, she was spread eagle perched on top of a open bible with her cunt on full display in front of her half naked friend. Modesty flew out the door a while ago. And so, she responded in a little whine and shimmy of her hips, feeling the cold air lapping at her hot center and cooling the slick that had collected between her folds that she didn’t even notice till now.

The boy thought he might have been in the midst of one of his wet dreams, the stereotypical catholic school girl splayed out in a chapel with his hungry eyes staring at her virgin cunt. He was trying his hardest to take a mental picture so he can relive this the next time he has a wank, but in this moment his plan was coming to fruition.

Harry held up the small wooden cross, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. The piece of religious art was about as wide around as a taper candle and maybe a good 4 inches from the base to where it met the divider of the cross. Much smaller than his cock, but a good size to fuck his classmate with.

“Open.” His voice doomed after the stretch of silence, Y/n letting her lips fall open again gurgling a bit as the wooden cross was thrust into her mouth. Harry was purposefully being rough, pushing her gag reflex intentionally, “Gag on it, get it nice and wet. Do as I say y/n, m’ getting’ yeh throat to slick it up. Could shove it in yeh dry be glad I’m lubing it up pet.” With a few more jabs at her uvula the boy was content with the amount of thick spit that dripped down the object.

Y/n couldn’t help but squirm and mewl, feeling Harry split her labia. An audible clicking sound fell on their ears from the wetness adhering the folds of skin together, the sound gave a boost to his already prominent smirk. Once her engorged clit came into view Harry made a point to give it a few strong strokes with his thumb before pressing the end of the cross into the girl’s virgin opening. The sight was nothing short of filthy, completely sinful. He wouldn’t be surprised if the floor caved in and they fell straight to hell as he finally managed to press through her thin hymen gaining entry to the untouched inners of the girl.

The stinging caused Y/n to hiss slightly, her legs quivering as he finally made it inside her. A small streak of her purity stood out against the white wood. Harry couldn’t help but snicker to himself, he thought of Virgin Mary in this moment. Ironic right? The first thought into his mind when seeing Y/n’s virginal blood striping a cross was how this was a strange twist on the story of the savior’s mother.

His movements sped up considerably after the flimsy membrane of resistance was punctured. The cross now being plunged in and out of the girl’s sacred spot in quick succession while she gripped the railing behind her in an effort not to tumble off the stand.

“Would yeh look at that, might be the first girl in this school to get fucked with a cross, baby. Always knew you were special huh?” Harry migrated his hand down to thumb at her clit, the foreign sensation of something inside of her and a massaging of her pleasure organ had the girl pigeon toed and panting. Harry swears he’s never seen anything hotter than what he was doing in this moment. His arm was getting tired but he didn’t dare fucking stop. No, he decided he was going to violate the artwork until Y/n had her first orgasm clamping onto the now not so holy figurine.

Y/n could barely form a thought, pleasure wracking through her body and a strange sensation building inside of her. Harry mumbling filth to her was the icing on the cake, her body tipping over the edge. Her body went stiff before breaking out into shakes, vocal cords strained from the moans and yelps escaping her throat. Her first ever orgasm was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and Harry almost came just watching her suddenly remembering his abandoned cock.

Y/n was scrambling to regain control over her body, pushing Harry’s wrists away with a slick popping noise following as the cross was removed from her body. Harry leaned down to kiss the panting girl, dribbling spit into her open mouth while she gasped for air. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” His ring clad fingers pet her cheek lightly, the other hand sitting her up and tugging her forward giving her a shove to get her back onto her knees.

“Now, time to finish your prayer, love” His hand pushed his cock back into the cavern of her mouth, she suckled hard on him. Tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, suction hard on the crown of him. The way she gave harsh spongy movements of her tongue and cheeks had his knees weak having to hold himself up on the podium. “Shit, Christ pet I’m gonna cum”.

Harry felt his climax rapidly approaching, taking both of his hands and putting them on the back of her head forcing the entirety of his cock down the girls sore throat. The muscles already tired from all the noise she made with it, but she only dug her fingers into his thighs as he spilled down her tight throat.

Harsh breathing along with Harry’s pleasured chuckle were the only noises filling the room as the pair removed themselves from each other. Harry getting his control back, putting his cock away before pulling Y/n to her feet giving her a few smacking kisses as he helped straighten her out tossing her ruined tights into the trashcan.

“Think we took more than a fiver babe, guess we gotta finish now huh?”

His smirk was wide while he put the cross right back in it’s place, cum still dripping off of it.

[freddiefiction]

Jimercury Advent Calendar (Day 20)

Figgy Pudding 🍮

Freddie was certain that this was the proudest achievement of his life.

Forget Bohemian Rhapsody. This was his jewel in the crown, his magnum opus, his pièce de resistance. To someone of lesser intelligence, it might have just looked like a misshapen, slightly overcooked Christmas pudding – but no, it was so much more than that. This was living proof that he wasn’t completely useless in the kitchen, as Joe fucking Fanelli had absurdly implied. This is what he would be remembered by. Not his music or his stage theatrics, but this single festive dessert; dried fruits baked into a sweet spongey bread and topped with brandy sauce. A delicacy. It was poetry in cake.

He was a mess, flour and sugar adoring his apron, brown batter smeared across his face like war paint. But it was all worth it.

He couldn’t wait to show Jim. He couldn’t wait to see the look of utter surprise on the Irishman’s face when he saw this remarkable creation. Jim would surely be so taken back by his husband’s accomplishment, he would sweep him off his feet right then and there and take him upstairs to bed to make sweet and passionate love. The very thought made Freddie weak in the knees.

After ensuring that the pudding was perfectly centred in the middle of the counter, Freddie brushed his hands against his apron and rushed off to find Jim, failing to notice several pairs of eyes glinting from beneath the kitchen table.

--

‘Something smells good.’ Jim chuckled, treading carefully as Freddie guided him towards the kitchen, covering his eyes with both hands. ‘And I didn’t hear the smoke alarm go off once. Joe owes me a fiver.’

‘Forget that Negative Nelly.’ Freddie said as they neared the kitchen door. ‘I haven’t tasted it yet, but I can assure you, this will be the most delicious figgy pudding you’ve ever eaten in your life.’ He reached around his husband to push down the door handle, before throwing his hands away from Jim’s eyes. ‘Behold!’

The moment the word left his mouth, Freddie caught sight of the counter and felt all the blood drain out of his face. What had once been the beautiful Christmas pudding he had put all his blood, sweat and tears into for the last six hours was now little more than a pile of crumbs; and five hungry cats were chomping away on the remains, munching through the fruit filling, and licking brandy sauce from their whiskers. There was a long, agonising silence, before Freddie let out a noise that sounded like a wounded animal.

‘My cake!’ he cried, his outburst causing the cats to scatter. ‘My perfect, precious cake – ruined!’

He immediately rounded upon the five offenders, who were now congregated on the kitchen floor, wondering what the fuss was about. ‘You are all very bad cats! Daddy worked very hard on that pudding, and you had no business eating it for yourselves!’

Miko purred loudly at him, her nose and mouth covered in white brandy sauce.

‘Don’t you make that face at me, young lady!’ Freddie thundered. ‘I have half a mind to smack your bottom for being such a naughty girl!’

The tortoiseshell stopped purring immediately and she let out a distressed meow, running to hide behind Jim, her sticky face nuzzling his leg as if asking him to protect her.

‘Now, now, love.’ Said Jim, as he bent down to scoop his favourite daughter into his arms. ‘It’s not their fault that your pudding was so delicious. They couldn’t resist, poor things.’ He pressed a gentle kiss on Miko’s head. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t let Papa smack your bottom.’

Miko mewed happily, snuggling into Jim’s chest.

‘If any of them are sick, you’re going to be the one cleaning it up.’ Freddie grumbled, grabbing a tea towel, and attempting to wipe the mess off Delilah’s face. ‘Well, I hope you’re all satisfied, darlings; you’ve ruined Christmas!’

The cats seemed completely unfazed by this statement. Goliath licked the rest of the crumbs off his paws. Romeo was grooming Lily, trying to get every last spot of sauce out of her fur. Delilah made a noise that sounded strikingly similar to a belch. Miko yawned, ready for a nap now that she had a full belly.

Jim glanced at the counter and spied a small lump of cake that had been seemingly untouched by their wayward felines; he quickly grabbed it with his free hand and, after inspecting it for any stray cat hairs, popped it into his mouth. His brows immediately raised to his hairline.

‘Wow. This is fucking incredible.’

Freddie stopped scowling long enough to look over at his husband, who was sucking the sugar off his fingers thoughtfully. ‘You really think so?’

‘You were right, this is delicious. I dare say it’s better than my mum used to make – though don’t go telling her I said that.’ Jim gently set Miko onto the floor and went to wind his arms around Freddie’s slender waist, pulling him close. ‘Did you really make that all by yourself?’

‘Well, Phoebe helped me a bit with the oven.’ Freddie replied, recalling how frustrating it had been twisting all those knobs, trying to figure out which one turned the damn thing on. ‘But the rest was all me. I was so looking forward to presenting it after dinner tomorrow. Joe is never going to let me live this down.’

‘Joe doesn’t have to find out. We’ll make another one.’

‘What?’ Freddie stared up at Jim as if he’d lost his mind. ‘Darling, it’s almost nine o’clock. The cake needs to be boiled for six hours!’

‘Then we better get a move on!’ Jim chimed, pecking Freddie on the nose. ‘Right, I’ll get the children out of the way while you gather all the ingredients together. This is my first-time making pudding, so go easy on me.’

Freddie felt his heart do a flip as he watched Jim shepherd the cats out of the kitchen, his devastation almost immediately replaced with a new sense of hope. He rushed to the counter to begin cleaning up the mess, a grin spreading across his face at the thought of pulling an all-nighter to bake with his wonderful man.

Perhaps Christmas wasn’t ruined after all.

[hops-hunny]

The Daft and Dashing

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Male! Reader

Pronouns: He/Him

Word Count: 1.3k

Request: “can I request a ron weasley x male reader where ron just discovered his feelings for the reader and he kinda freaks out because its the first time that he feels attracted to a boy and he is just so cute and kind to the reader and everyone its like ??? because ron its treating the reader like that and just they end together and super fluff?”

Summary: Ron is a bit daft but he eventually realizes what he feels.

Warnings: A bit of swearing (as usual), fluff, slightly sassy Luna.

A/N: Sorry for the wait anon! Hope I captured the prompt well enough!

Ron had a very unusual life. He lived in the middle of nowhere in a house that could fall apart at any moment, he had as many siblings as a small class, and his best friend was Harry-fucking-Potter for merlin’s sake! He had come to a point in his life where nothing was really surprising to him no matter what circumstance he found himself to be in. That was until (Y/n) came into his life.

(Y/n) had transferred from Ilvermorny half way into the year. No one wanted to befriend the new kid, especially the new kid sorted into slytherin. After the things (Y/n) had heard about his house, he couldn't blame them. The sad thing is, if anyone would've taken the time to watch the boy they'd see he really wasn't much harm if any. He loved to stay after and help professor Sprout out with the green house. He’d sneak from his dorm late at night to prepare meals for the next day with the house elves. And although up to that point no one had noticed him, that one night someone had.

(Y/n) had bid his favorite house elves goodbye, eating the vanilla cupcake they had given him. His heart dropped at the sound of a jingling collar and the swearing of Filch’s gravely voice. He had always been careful, making sure to keep track of time to avoid this situation but it seemed that Filch was patrolling earlier than usual. 

“Oi! Weasley, get back here! I’ll get ya just you bloody wait!” He heard as a mess of red hair rounded the corner.(Y/n) hid behind a pillar debating whether or not to help the boy. He grabbed Ron’s wrist, pulling the larger boy with all his strength. He began to run, moving a tile on the floor as he jumped through it, dragging Ron as well. 

“What are you doing? Who the hell are you?!” The ginger boy said loudly, looking at the smaller boy as he muttered ‘lumos’. Even with the light illuminating from the unknown male’s wand, he could barely make out his features.

“Shh!!I’m the guy who’s saving your ass. Keep moving, quickly now!” (Y/n) said. He was very thankful for all the free time he had to himself due to his lack of social life. While everyone else had a blast at Hogsmeade, he simply explored the castle finding new ways around that would even put Fred and George’s passage ways to shame. (Y/n) and Ron went through many twists and turns, ducking under cobwebs and avoiding critters. They finally reached a wall. The shorter boy hit the wall three times, a passageway opening up and a ladder falling down in which the Gryffindor common room could be seen. “Here’s your stop.” He said. Ron stood there, inspecting the boy before looking down at their hands. He quickly pulled his back as they had at some point began to hold hands.

“Thank you… I’m sorry, what was your name? I don’t think I caught it.” Ron said, looking down the hole he had come up from. His eyes widened slightly at the Slytherin emblem embedded on the boy’s sweater vest.

“I didn’t throw it. See you around.” He said. He smiled slightly and winked before hitting the wall 3 times again as the hole that was once there vanished right before Ron’s eyes.

To say Ron wasn’t amazed with the boy after that would be an utter lie. He recalled how he didn’t sleep any that night, thinking of the mysterious Slytherin boy he had seen. It gave him a feeling in his chest that felt familiar and when he saw the boy that following day in potions, he knew he had to know him. And now, months later he was glad he did.

“I think you’re in love.” Luna said, knocking the boy out of his daze.

“Yeah? And how the bloody hell would you know?” Ron said, getting defensive over the subject. Luna wasn’t phased by the boy’s demeanor however.

“Well, the real question is, how the bloody hell wouldn’t you know?” She said in a calm state, continuing to weave together the flower crown she was making. Despite how Ron and his two best friends thought the girl was an absolute loon, he knew she was very intuitive especially when it came to emotions. He knew Hermione would just tease him and rush him and that Harry couldn’t keep his trap shut. So, he came to the only other person he knew could help. “Okay, let’s try something. Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see, just close them.” she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to do so. As he did, she started to speak again. “Okay, now picture this: you’re hanging out with (Y/n). You’re having a blast, studying together in the astronomy tower. All of a sudden, someone approaches him. They hold him, kiss him deeply, hold his hand. How would that make you feel?” Ron’s brow furrowed as he listened to the situation. He clenched his fist slightly, visibly getting more angry. Luna gave him a knowing look even though the boy couldn’t see her.

“I’d bloody kill them! No one should be doing that to him, no one but me that is.” His eyes snapped open, widening at the realization. “Bloody hell. No way...I like him. I fucking like him!” He said in shock, Luna shaking her head in agreement. He stood up quickly. “I gotta go! Thank you Looney- I er- mean Luna!” He said as he ran back to the castle. The girl rolled her eyes when he was out of sight, sighing softly as she placed the freshly done flower crown on her head.

Ron continued to sprint, not stopping until he reached the gryffindor common room where he found his friends. They were all deep in conversation, looking up when they saw him coming. Hermione moved over, making room for the boy to sit in his usual spot which was next to (Y/n). (Y/n) smiled up at him.

“Hey Ron! Where’ve you been? I was lookin’ for ya earlier!” He said as his friend sat next to him. Instead of Ron saying anything, he simply grabbed the boy by his sweater, kissing him rushed and roughly. The slytherin boy gasped, but melted into the kiss nonetheless. Ron pulled away from him.

“I love you, I love you for merlin’s sake! I don’t want some fucking bloke to hold or kiss you in the astronomy tower!” He said, stroking the boy’s cheek softly as he looked into his eyes. (Y/n) looked at him, tilting his head confused as he chuckled slightly.

“I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean by that, but I am sure that I don’t want that either. Although, I was wondering when you’d realize you were into me that way. I was starting to lose hope.” He said, rubbing his arm sheepishly. Ron continued to caress the boy's cheek delicately, before he hugged him close.

“You owe me a fiver, Harry. I told you Ron would tell him first!” Hermione said, breaking the silence as Harry groaned, pulling his money from his pocket as he handed it to the girl.

“What? You guys knew?” Ron said, mouth agape as he watched his friends who had lost bets exchange money with the ones who won. “All of you bloody knew?! How come no one told me?”

“Ron, you carry the boy to his dorm when he’s too tired, bring him soup and flowers when he’s sick, and let him wear your sweaters. Anyone would be a damn fool not to notice! But, I suppose that’s why you didn’t.” Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head at her brother's stupidity. He was about to get steamed but the smaller boy kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand.

“Everyone calm down. The important thing is that he DID notice! I’m just glad to have him now.” He said, not wanting a repeat of the last time Ron and Gin had gotten into a fight. He yawned and began to rub his eyes. “Carry me to my room, love?” He asked him. Ron didn’t hesitate, picking the boy up bridal style as he began to walk off to the slytherin common room. He turned around, looking at the lot of their friends, giving a devilish smile as he winked.

So, as the sun began to go down, so did Ron….on (Y/n) that is.

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

If you wanna be added to my tags list, please make sure to shoot me a message or ask specifically who for!

Tagslist: @sarcasticallywitty15

[a-tomb-with-a-view]

Ahh congrats on 600!!

For the prompt: Reggie and Alex and feeling lonely

Love you! Congrats again

Hi! Thank you so much :))

(Send me an ask with characters/a relationship and a prompt and I’ll write smth)

This is also available on ao3 if that’s where you prefer to read your fics

Reggie’s always felt a little lonely, he thinks.

It’s hard to feel surrounded by love when you’re the only person in the world that knows something.

For some people, maybe the thing they know is worth the loneliness. Something that would be dangerous to share, or that could hurt somebody.

For Reggie, the thing for a long time had been that his parents hated each other, and didn’t love him enough to do something about it.

Maybe that’s not fair.

Bobby would probably say that his parents lost their right to fair the first time his mom slammed something so hard that Reggie had spent the rest of the night crying, and not eaten his dinner.

Bobby understands being lonely, but he doesn’t care about it as much as Reggie. He likes the quiet that fills his house, even if sometimes Reggie thinks he’d like someone to tell him he’s doing a good job, instead of it always being him telling the three of them. Bobby fills the empty spaces in his life by fretting about the three of them and letting Luke climb into his bedroom window in the middle of the night, like neither Alex nor Reggie will notice that Luke’s late to band practice those days even though he’s living in the garage, and always wearing Bobby’s clothes instead of the five layers needed to make his new home comfortable.

Luke understands being lonely a little bit too. He describes it like the hunger pangs he gets sometimes, when the money Bobby’s parents leave doesn’t extend to the food requirement for two boys, but in his chest. He’s always plastering himself against the three of them, and tilting his head up pleadingly until Bobby drops a kiss on his cheek or his nose. Reggie sometimes thinks Luke just hangs around with them because they don’t care enough about societal norms to push him away, because they let him use them to fill the gaps his parents used to fill, but Luke loves too openly and honestly for those thoughts to stick around for long.

Alex is the one that really gets it. He gets the isolation that comes with keeping secrets, hiding rainbow badges and pride bracelets the way Reggie dabbed concealer under his eyes to hide the dark circles from a night spent listening to his parents shouting instead of sleeping, the way Reggie tried to force back flinches at sudden noises. It’s not the same, but it’s close enough.

He describes feeling lonely in a way that resonates with Reggie, something about feeling like his mind and his body are so separate that even when his body is being hugged, it doesn’t feel like he is, sometimes.

He worries at times, when he starts crashing at Bobby’s as well, when Alex comes out, when Reggie’s loneliness doesn’t go away even though he tells his friends about his parents, when Alex starts dating one of Bobby’s friends, with long hair and the kind of arms that seem to be able to shield them all from the shitty parts of their life when he hugs them, that maybe Alex will stop feeling lonely the way Reggie feels it, will stop calling him in the middle of the night to see if he’s up to drive for a bit, to find a field to sit in so they can stare at the stars and feel lonely in an existential way, instead of a way that’s so crushingly personal that sometimes Reggie feels like he’s splintering apart under the weight of it.

It doesn’t happen though, not when Sunset Curve became Julie and the Phantoms, and not when Alex and Willie hit their third anniversary, and not when Reggie decides relationships aren’t really what he’s into, at least not at the minute, and not even now, even though Alex has been living with Willie for a full two months now.

The car is cold, in the way that Reggie always associates with the school run when he was a kid, in a way that sits bone deep and makes him feel like he’ll never be warm again, but there’s something refreshing about it, even if it’s making his ribs ache.

He likes living with Luke and Bobby, he really does, but as bicker-y as they are, the way they’re so visibly in love sometimes hits a little too hard. He’s pretty certain he doesn’t want that, but there’s something about living in such close proximity to unfettered romantic content that makes him feel like he’s missing something without that. The cold is the kind of biting that doesn’t seem to exist in their house, that’s stacked with blankets and space heaters to try and make sure it’s not a space where Reggie is uncomfortable, and he appreciates it more than he knows how to tell them, but the cold makes him feel less surrounded.

Alex nudges his shoulder against Reggie’s. “Wanna get ice cream?”

Reggie glances at him, easing the car into the left lane so they can pull into the service station he knows is coming up. “Allie, it’s four in the morning, and it’s five degrees.”

Alex shrugs. “And you’re wearing basketball shorts, if you gave a fuck about the weather you should’ve made better choices.”

“Oh, so this isn’t do i want ice cream, this is get me ice cream?” Reggie asks, even as he lets the car slow to a holt outside the 24/7 co-op and hands Alex a fiver. The crate of shitty beer on the back seat was Alex’s contribution, and he’s not about to let Alex eat ice cream without him.

Alex grins and opens the door. “Now you’re getting it,” he jokes as he climbs out.

Reggie watches him disappear inside, then swears under his breath and climbs out to follow him in. Standing next to Alex won’t make him feel better than waiting for him in the car, not really, but supermarkets at night are the kind of liminal space that lets Reggie put his feelings aside, even when they’re the kind that are woven into his DNA, and Alex will probably let him hold his hand.

He sidles up to Alex, who doesn’t look surprised at all to see him. He just holds his hand out automatically, without saying anything, and Reggie takes it and lets himself focus on the single point of warmth and the way the light above them is flickering without pattern, until he feels a little bit less like he’s floating a million miles from anyone who speaks his language.

He trips over his laces when Alex drags him towards the freezer section, and although he knows the feeling will return, although he knows as soon as they’re back in the car, driving towards a field to sit in and eat ice cream and drink shitty beer, he’ll feel impossibly distant from anything and everything, but for now he lets himself bathe in the feeling of childish freedom flood through him as Alex cackles maniacally at him falling over, and knocks against him when he manages to stand back up like they’re seven and co conspirators again.

Alex giggles into Reggie’s shoulder and hands him a tub of Mint Choc Chip, and the light near the door flickers out, and he doesn’t quite feel great, but he feels okay. Okay is good enough, at least for now.

Thanks for the ask :))

[marmolady]

Homecoming: Part Two

Continued from PART ONE

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister, Variego

Summary: Endless Ending. Back on La Huerta for the first time since the world's resurrection, there are some heart-to-hearts with old friends in order.

Word Count: 4680

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

“Howdy there, pilot. Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Taylor asked as she stepped into the cockpit, squinting as she adjusted to the bright light that shone through the large windows as they soared over the Caribbean.

“You comin’ in here to annoy me is just part and parcel of my La Huerta jobs now, ain’t it?”

“Oh, Top Gun, so sentimental,” she teased-- but really, like she could talk.

Jake rested his hands behind his head and looked out over a familiar green spot in the blue expanse, now fast approaching. “Well, she’s no ‘Delilah’, that’s for sure. If something comes to me, it comes to me. But like I say, it ain’t the same. It’s not as if you people are about to let me hide from the world with this baby as my only friend.”

“Damn straight.”

“Thought as much. Well, everything’s reading as normal; think we might make it, sans freaky storms this time.” Jake turned to his visitor with a smirk. “I’m still gonna want you to get your ass in a seat. A landing’s a landing.”

Safely in her seat-- Estela by her side, and little Fenix in a pet carrier tucked against the seat in the next aisle-- Taylor felt her stomach doing violent flip-flops as the green spot in the ocean came closer, beginning to take on detail. Rivers she’d bathed in snaking out to the sea, Atropo looming, and the now-abandoned Celestial-- still standing by all appearances unchanged-- in its shadow.

Estela was calm and quiet, contemplative as the small plane descended. So much about this journey was familiar, and yet, everything had changed. This time, marching towards her destiny wasn’t a lonely trail to a foregone violent conclusion; this time, the future was all a big unknown other than the fact that it would be anything but lonely. She wove her fingers with Taylor’s, feeling nerves flowing through, and gently squeezed.

“Almost there, querida.”

With a gentle bump, the plane was on the ground, and Taylor gave a small sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be rude about Jake’s flying ability, but until that point, she’d finished every ride with him in either a crash, a near crash… or plummeting into the sea. That she was something of a nervous flyer was, she thought, pretty damn reasonable.

In no time at all, the cabin door had been swung open, and the warm Caribbean air welcomed the small group home.

“And here I was worried I’d need to replace another plane. It seems the pilot can fly one of these things after all; that’s a fiver I owe you, Grace.”

“He of little faith,” Grace laughed, though it was quite clear she was at least somewhat giddy with relief. “Jake knows what he’s doing.”

No sooner had Taylor set her feet on La Huerta soil than a familiar figure was running towards her, streaking out of the cover of the foliage at the side of the runway.

“Diego! Ohmygod!”

Diego flung his arms around his friend and held her tight. Last he’d seen her, she’d only just clawed herself back from death’s door; Taylor was going to get hugged, and she was going to get hugged hard.

Estela set out into the humid air, immediately aware of the sounds of the jungle; insects and birds, rustling of leaves. Even the smell of the soil was distinctly La Huerta. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but… she was home.

_____________________________

An almost comically deep miaow made Estela jump. Engrossed in what she’d been writing-- and the frustrated doodles she’d been swirling on a separate piece of paper-- she hadn’t noticed Taylor’s cat, Madam, joining her on the wooden bench outside their home.

“I must be making myself crazy, hey Mierdita? I guess you’re here to make sure my senses stay sharp… or you’ve come to complain to me about Nixie.”

“Mow.”

Estela giggled and scooped the little cat, presently bright orange in colour, though that was subject to change, and hugged her to her chest. It was nice to have the company. Taylor was down on the beach, catching up with Diego for the first time in far too long. And what Estela was doing… for the most part, she needed to be left in her own space to do it. The little cat might have been a distraction, but from the number of doodles Estela had scribbled, it looked as though her productivity had already peaked for the time being.

“You’ll just have to learn to forgive Taylor. You know she likes to surround herself with lots of friends.”

Madam nimbly climbed her way up onto Estela’s shoulder, and enthusiastically rubbed against her face.

“I’m glad I can make you feel better. I guess I wasn’t getting anywhere with writing this anyway….”

With a little sigh, she tucked the unfinished letter in her hoodie. She’d written so many letters to her mother-- one for every week she’d been working here on the island-- but to find the words to say goodbye, to get some kind of closure, did not come easy. Maybe with a little more time to think….

“Hello?”

Estela looked up to see Varyyn outside the front of the house. “Haalta, Varyyn. I’m round the side.”

With a low growl, Madam ducked down into Estela’s hood and pressed herself against her neck. She eyed their visitor with great suspicion from her perch.

“It looks like your little friend is happy to have you back,” Varyyn said as he approached, “--and less pleased to see me.”

“Don’t worry; she has a lot to say, but it’s all talk. She won’t bite.”

Varyyn, rather daringly in Estela’s view-- though he did regularly hang around with a hulking smilodon, so maybe he was just good with cats-- reached and tickled Madam under her chin.

“I have been wanting to find you,” he said. “Diego had told me you were preparing a memorial for your mother.”

‘’S a long time coming,” Estela grunted. “And maybe it’ll be a long time still; I don’t want to do anything extravagant, but it’s got to be right.”

“That is fair. I hope I am not disturbing you.”

“No, no. I don’t mind,” she said, gentler. “So long as it’s in progress. Finally. I couldn’t exactly get any kind of closure until I’d dealt with Rourke, and then… I needed to go home. I dunno… maybe it was easier to feel it as anger, because the sadness was too much to bear if I let it take its place. When I let myself really feel it….” A tear rolled down her face, and she brushed it away. “I don’t know if I can say I’m at peace with it all… I don’t think I ever really can be. But I’m better. I brought over the letters Mom sent me when she was here on the island, to bury. And I then thought of writing again… to say goodbye. All I’ve gotta do now is find the words. Anyway,” she finished hurriedly, “you wanted me for something?”

Varyyn nodded sagely. It wasn’t lost on him the intimacy of what was being shared. Perhaps the violent death of his own mother had given Estela a sense of tragic kinship with him?

“Seraxa and I talked at great length. It had… troubled me that there had been no acknowledgement of your mother’s sacrifice. She must have felt very alone standing against the Hydra, but we will not see that bravery forgotten now.”

He reached into his satchel, and brought out a neatly folded set of clothes.

“To wear the traditional uniform of our warriors is the greatest of honours. We wish to pay tribute to your mother as a hero to the Vaanti, if you will accept this gift.”

Estela’s eyes grew wide, and her bottom lip wobbled. “I--- um, thank you.” That’s the best you can manage? “I… don’t know what to say. Thank you.” In Varyyn’s nod of understanding, the look in his eyes, it was plain to see he felt the depth of her gratitude.

A gentle smile came to Varyyn’s face, as though he was relieved. “It is your choice whether you would like to wear this in her honour, or simply keep it as part of your memorial.”

Her cheeks flushed, Estela hugged the folded uniform to her chest. There were just… no words to adequately say what the gesture meant. For Estela’s own protection, any trace of Olivia Montoya’s connection to Everett Rourke had been wiped from record; and with it, all evidence of the courageous last stand taken. But here she was remembered.

“I don’t think I’ve told you…,” Estela choked out after a little while. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m the best conversationalist… I don’t know what to say to people half the time.” She shook her head. “But, anyway, I always found you impressive. When your mother died… it was sudden, and brutal, and somehow you had the strength to honour her by taking up her mantle. Immediately. And you always seemed so together, however much you were crumbling on the inside. You had to be.”

“I had good friends to lean on. And I had Diego.” Varyyn chucked darkly. “It is terrible, but when you all came back through the gate, as much I was very sad for you all, and for Diego, that everything you knew and loved was gone… there was a very selfish part of me….” He stalled.

“Fair enough,” Estela said, not about to force him to finish a clearly uncomfortable sentence. “It had only been a couple of days. How’s anyone supposed to bear that much loss? While carrying the expectations and fears of your people? Diego gave you comfort when you needed it most. And… then you gave him the same.”

“Yes.”

Having that shoulder; it made all the difference. It made living through the worst of horrors bearable, and then, somehow… it made the act of living on, in hope, possible. Varyyn had Diego. She, Estela, had her Taylor. And they all had one another.

“We’re lucky we found the right people.”

___________________________

As she slogged through the soft white sand, Taylor wasn’t sure what was going to give out first, her legs or her lungs. Using her best friend’s hand as an anchor, she kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, Taylor, you know, it might be easier to have a real conversation if we sat down for a bit.”

Diego was polite and tactful, but what he meant was clearly; ‘You are an absolute wreck; sit down before you put yourself in an early grave’.

Taking the hint, Taylor flopped down heavily, squinting against the bright sun as she tried to get herself comfortable. While she struggled to get her breath back, Diego sat himself down close by, patiently letting her recover.

“I swear the beaches in San Trobida aren’t so much of a work-out,” Taylor said apologetically. “Not as soft. I have actually gotten a lot fitter, if you can believe it.”

Diego put a hand on her shoulder. “I can actually. You did a pretty good job of covering up how much you were struggling those last few days you were here, but I really don’t think you were fooling anyone. You do look better. Last time I saw you, it was hard not to get the impression that one stiff wind could have you over.”

Taylor snorted with laughter. “Damn, and I thought I put up a good front.”

“Not remotely. You are incredible, my friend, but a talented actor you are not.”

This was wonderful. The warmth of the sun of her body, and the easiest of company. Taylor reclined back, her arms propping her up in the sand from behind.

“Well, now that I’m not having to focus on not falling over… how’ve you really been?”

Diego stared wistfully out to sea, all the while playing with a little lock of his hair that Varyyn had braided for him. “’How have I really been’ as in not the brush-off, ‘oh, I’m good’ answer?”

“Yep. And I promise I’ll keep my own bullshit in check as fair trade.”

“Okay. If that’s how we’re doing this.” Diego fiddled with his hair for a little while longer as he contemplated his answer… and where to start. “I’m good.” As Taylor rolled her eyes, he added quickly; “ I am good.”

“Yeah?”

“Going back home was the best thing I could have done; it made me realise just how much I actually belong here. I’ve found my people. And Varyyn. I don’t have to tell you how cut up I was to be away from him; you could see it. Heck, even Grandma Bhandarkar saw it-- I have never been force-fed so much in my life, and I grew up with my abuela!”

Taylor chuckled. She was eternally grateful that the extended Catalyst family had been there for Diego when she couldn’t be, through one of the most pivotal periods in his life. “Did you… did you manage to talk to your parents at all?” she ventured gently.

With a sad smile, Diego shook his head. “I called from Raj’s place. I did speak to my dad, and honestly it was better than I expected. But he said Mom’s not ready.”

“Oh, Diego….”

“No, I knew she wouldn’t be ready.” He gave a little sigh. “That big, scary conversation’s done now, though, and I feel kind of… lighter. Like… I can start to accept how things are. If Mom and Dad were ever going to accept who I am, you’d think the year and a half I’d disappeared off the face of the earth would have done the trick.”

Taylor put an arm around Diego as he sniffed. “You know it’s all them, yeah? None of this is on you.”

“Yeah… I know. I came back here and… Varyyn just looked at me like I was the most beautiful person in the world. I could not have felt more loved. So, yeah-- I’m good.”

“So,” Taylor said gently, “what happens next? Do you still want to come back to Hartfeld with us in September?”

Diego huffed out a long exhale. Now, that was a question.

“The only really honest answer I can give you is… I don’t know. Could not be more conflicted.”

“That’s… that’s fair.”

“I keep thinking about that vision we saw when I took my action figures from Vaanu.  I didn’t think it was possible for me to be that comfortable in my own skin, but it wasn’t like I was just seeing it-- I could feel it.”

“Yeah. It was kind of, just… radiating off you. You were just one-hundred percent genuine Diego, no holes barred… and everyone just loved you for it.”

“Look, I know that whole thing was just Vaanu trying to manipulate you into sacrificing youself--”

“Diego--”

“No, it’s okay. Because even if that’s all it was, it doesn’t matter. The more time I’m here with Varyyn… and people are respecting me as me-- you should see the queues of kids that form when I re-tell the original Star Wars trilogy….”

Taylor chuckled fondly.

“...The more I realise that, actually, that could be me. If I wanted it.”

“That really could be you. Without a shadow of a doubt. It would just mean…”

“Leaving Varyyn? Shattering both our hearts into a million pieces? Yeah, that’s the sticking point.”

Putting her head on Diego’s shoulder, Taylor offered what support she could. “What… what does he think?”

“He really loves me, so he’s unhelpfully understanding about the whole thing. It would be so much easier to know what I should do if he’d just say he’d rather I stay here!”

“So inconsiderate.”

“But, well, he said how much I light up when I talk about what I saw in that vision. And he lights up when he talks about that,” Diego said with a resigned laugh. “He says if I stay here, I shouldn’t be giving up every part of me.”

“He’s right,” Taylor said. “It’s you he fell in love with, and it’s you the hordes of Vaanti children seek out whenever they need smiles put on their faces. One way or another, I think you should always feed the real you. ‘Cause that guy’s pretty great.”

Diego glanced away, bashful, but unable to hide his smile. Again, he started playing with his hair.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Taylor. How about it’s your turn. Do you have a plan? I guess Vaanu didn’t bother showing you what a future on Earth could look like, hey?”

Taylor gave a soft humph. “No, they certainly did not. That’s something I’m just going to have to figure out myself.” She frowned. “They just showed me enough to put the pressure of ensuring the happiness of everyone I love on my shoulders,” she said bitterly.

Catching her tone, Diego raised an eyebrow. “That’s really getting to you.”

“Yeah,” she heaved. For a moment, she considered what she wanted to share. “Look, I haven’t exactly talked about this before…. All those visions I saw, just about all of them showed you guys rocking your dream careers. Except for, well….” She trailed off, sadly.

“Except for Estela and Aleister, right? Now you mention it, that does kinda say a lot about the impact Rourke had.”

“Exactly. It makes me so… so angry,” she said, than added with a dry laugh, “I don’t have the energy to be angry. Seeing you all die in my dreams doesn’t help either; all I can think is that he did all that. ”

“So, you’ve put it out there now. Maybe that’ll help you move past it?”

“I sure hope so. Letting that fester isn’t going to be healthy for me, and it sure as hell won’t do Estela any favours. She’s been amazing. There’s been so much she’s had to move through. I think I’ve been so focused on her that it only just recently sank in how much I’m simmering in hate for that bastard. And I don’t want to let it out and feed into her own feelings. Does… that make sense?”

“That sounds pretty natural,” Diego assured. “Being protective of your family is pretty much wired into you; kinda makes sense that it would get you all fired up-- and that you want to shield Estela from even more hurt and anger. I’m here, you know. If ever you need a best friend to off-load on; I’m your man.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said softly, and boy, did she mean it. A little smile came to her face at the sound of Furball yipping as he chased a euphoric Fenix up and down the shoreline. Bad feelings passed quickly, for there was just too much beauty in the world she had fought for and won.  “All things considered, I’m doing really well. Since I ramped up the self-care, I’m getting less nightmares-- I know they’re not proper nightmares, it’s just my brain replaying memories that aren’t even all mine. But they’ve gotten better.”

Diego shook his head, incredulous. “Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to sleep with that going on at all.”

“With great difficulty is how,” Taylor laughed. “Poor Estela is now pretty used to me waking her up, screaming and crying.” She smiled softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without her; she has this magic way of just… chasing away all the horrors. I guess it’s because I feel safe when she’s holding me.”

“N’aww!” Diego’s eye twinkled. “I really am the best wingman around. I’ll happily accept tips for match-making services given.”

Taylor snorted. “I feel like we can take some of the credit, but fine, thanks for the help. I’ve seen hundreds of different versions of me and Estela falling in love… and it’s surprising how many times it was you who gave me the push.”

“So, you really do owe me one.”

“I really do.”

Fenix ran over, panting heavily, and flopped down into Taylor’s lap. A little way behind, Furball trotted after.

“Hey, Diego?”

“You’re missing your buff wife?”

“That, and I’m absolutely starving. You wanna head back to Catalyst Village?”

Diego looked out at the darkening sky. This day had flown. No doubt, the days to come would fly too, and in no time at all he’d be faced with leaving Varyyn… again. Then his stomach growled loudly.

“Apparently, you’re not the only one. Come on-- d’you need a piggy-back?”

Indignant, Taylor plopped Fenix down in the sand and got to her feet. “I certainly do not.”

“Okay… reframing that. Would you like a piggy-back?”

Ooh, that smirk. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “In the time it would’ve taken me to walk back, I’d have already died of hunger.”

So, they made their way back up the beach; Diego giving a more-weary-than-she’d-care-to-let-on Taylor… and their two furry companions leading the charge, drawn home by the scent on the wind of food being cooked over an open fire.

___________________________

“A toast!” Aleister pronounced loudly, holding aloft a glass of Breath of the Moon. As his friends and family around the fire raised their matching cocktails, he thrust his own glass ever-higher with slightly-tipsy gusto. “To new beginnings! To reuniting with comrades! To bringing about justice!”

Estela leaned over and whispered in Taylor’s ear. “You see why I thought you should only take a little sip of this stuff?”

Taylor sniggered. “I’d make a toast to the fact that we have a whole house to ourselves again.It’s gonna be a lot easier to get our sex on when your brother and sister-in-law aren’t in the next room.”

Giving her wife an exaggerated wink, Estela huddled closer, delighting in the giggle she stirred. Somehow, everything felt easier here. It was is if just to be in this place brought her back to the best of herself, to the sense of peace within herself that had once felt like an impossibility. Now, with Taylor, in their home and surrounded by people they loved, it was an inevitability. This time would refresh her-- it would them both-- and ready them for the greater steps that lay ahead.

It seemed the feeling was catching,for everyone was relaxed and laughing as they cooked skewers over the crackling fire and sipped their cocktails. In the firelight, Varyyn’s face seemed to glow with affection for his beloved husband beside him-- who himself was bubbling over with the simple pleasure of being surrounded by friends. Estela wondered about the two of them… what the future might hold. A year could go by so quickly-- she learned that the had way when she’d been counting down to Taylor’s self-sacrifice-- but away from the one you loved, time would stretch agonisingly. She did not envy the choice Diego was faced with; that they were now with him to offer support though that… that mattered.

Opposite them, Jake was back to ribbing Aleister, something even more fun now that the target was a little sozzled. No amount of back-and-forth teasing could hide the genuine --rather unlikely-- friendship that had formed; Aleister, blessed with both wealth and contacts in high places, had made himself a pivotal force in the fight to clear Jake’s name. The more Estela had gotten to know her unexpected sibling, the more it became obvious to her that at his heart, Aleister was driven by the same protectiveness of those dear to him that powered her. It was something, she’d come to realise, that Rourke had cemented into them both-- not through any passing of genes, but by fierce resistance to the poison he’d inflicted. It had taken time… and it had been painful, but in their budding kinship, Estela had found undeniable comfort.

Taylor took Estela’s hand, and laid a weary head on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Estela laughed softly. She could feel the smile on Taylor’s face; so open and radiant, full of tenderness for the people surrounding her, and it spoke wonders.

With her free hand, Taylor gently chinked her glass to Estela’s.

“Cheers. To being home.”

“To being home.”