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#I helped paint my sister’s walls so of course I get covered in paint
gavisuntiedboot · 10 months
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OMG WE'RE BDAY TWINS
Going to use this beautiful user's ask to upload a cute little birthday themed one shot! Happy birthday to you as well twin, and everyone else born during gemini szn <3 (so this is set as a summer birthday - apologizes to all my cold weather kids - pretend global warming took full effect and it's sunny on your birthday).
~*Boot Birthday Special*~
"Sir, I don't think that many candles will fit on one cupcake."
Gavi looked up from his phone and his eyes met with that of the poor teenager working behind the counter of the quaint little bakery in the plaza. It was a gorgeous day, the sun beaming down on the pale bricks and multicolored tile, painting the walls with sprinkles of gold. You were currently out with your friends, glasses of orange juice clinking the soundtrack of your early birthday brunch. Despite the day being about 11 hours away, Pablo's declaration that your birthday was his meant you needed to celebrate with everyone else at alternate times. So while you laughed and basked in light and friendship, Gavi stood at the front of a busy bakery using whatever geometry he possessed to see how many candles would look good on the delicate cupcake before him.
"I mean that's how old my girlfriend is turning. I can't just... change the number?" Pablo asked, nervous hands tugging on the hood covering his face despite the heat. A pink slip peaked out of his hoodie, the details of the real cake he had ordered for you written in scraggly blue ink. The girl at the counter, 15 at most, studied Gavi's features, trying to remember where she had seen these anxious features before. She glanced at the growing line, and turned back to Pablo's hoodie-shrouded form.
"Can I see what you ordered for her? On the full size cake?" She asked, smiling sweetly and extending her hand, gesturing for the form. Her eyes swept over her sister's messy handwriting, recognizing the request.
"This is one of our more vintage piped cakes. Very aesthetically pleasing. If this is something your girlfriend would like, then you should get one of these and put it in the middle of the cupcake. It seems like it would fit her vibe." Turning around, she lifted a large glass jar from the shelf behind her, filled with beautiful swirly candles in a variety of pastel colors. "That top one matches the color of the frosting." Pablo picked out the candle carefully, handing it to the girl to place in the bag. He thanked her profusely while she ran his credit card.
"I'm kind of nervous, if you can't tell. This is the first time I've celebrated a girl's birthday besides my sister so I want everything to look good." She laughed lightly back at him, returning the card. "Of course, happy to help. Can I ask for something, though?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Do you need a signature for the receipt?"
"Signature yes, receipt no. Could you sign one of our boxes and take a picture with it? We're pretty small and family-owned, and it would bring in a lot of business to the shop."
Gavi's eyebrows perked up. He had had this request before from friends of his such as his barber, but he never expected to get it from just a local cake shop. "Yeah, of course." After taking the picture in the back of the shop, the delicately picked up the pale yellow bag, bidding goodbye to the staff and telling them they would get to meet his girlfriend tomorrow when he picked up his cake. Getting into his car (yes ladies, he can drive now), he checked his messages, ignoring all of them except the one from princesa <3 xoxo, which was a picture of you in red lipstick and a sparkly tiara that read birthday girl in rhinestones. Smiling from ear to ear, he made his way home to wrap the rest of your presents and protect your cupcake from the rays of the Spanish sun.
~
"Pablo? I'm home!"
Your voice bounced off the ceramic on the walls, echoing down the hallway as you slipped off your heels. The plethora of paper gift bags were placed on the counter as you searched for your fireball of a boyfriend, who you heard before you saw.
"Bebe!'' A yell came, followed by thunderous footsteps from your bedroom to where you stood in the entryway, strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground in a tight hug. Giggling gently, your arms circled his neck and lips pressed to the top of his head, gentle kisses conveying how much you had missed him throughout the day.
"Enjoy going out with the girls?" He asked while returning you to earth.
"Oh, so much! They took me to this great spot that had the best pastries. That crème brulee concha was probably the best thing I've ever put in my mouth."
"Is it now? Well-"
"Ew Pablo shut up! I mean food." Giggles continued to shake your body as you pushed him away, failing as he kept you pressed against him. He pressed exaggerated kisses to your warming cheeks, the sound of your laughter swimming through his veins and causing him to float an inch above the ground.
"I missed you today, amor." You said, head rolling to one side to expose you neck to Pablo, allowing him more space to pepper gentle kisses along your skin.
"We were only apart for a couple hours." He replied, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in your scent, a couple spritzes of Chanel mixed with that special something that only you possessed.
"I know, I know but when I was celebrating with everyone today, I couldn't help but think, 'damn, I wish Pablo was here.'" You turned around in his arms, pressing your forehead against his and looking deeply in those beautiful brown eyes.
"You're genuinely one of my best friends, and I just... always want to be this close to you. Wherever I go, I want you to come with me."
Pablo brought both of his hands to cup your face, pulling you closer to gently kiss your forehead, before gently kissing your lips. It was so innocent, almost like it was the first time the two of you had ever kissed. Like you were an angel who would ascend if he applied too much force.
"I'll always go where you go, princesa. Forever." A beat passed with the two of you just gazing at each other lovingly The digital clocked displayed that it was 11:02pm, and Gavi dragged you into your shared bedroom, giving you a pale blue shopping bag.
"Get in the shower and put this on. Quickly, before you age." He flashed his gorgeous smile as you pushed him out, locking the door behind him. After washing away the excitement of the day, you walked cautiously towards the bag on the bed. You reached in, fingers feeling luxuriously smooth fabric. You pulled the contents out to reveal a gorgeous silk night gown, fabric printed with an array of flowers, a golden crown embroidered on the top left. Your face lit up, stunned by the beauty of the garment. A blue tag hung off the nightgown, careful handwriting spelling out, 'Fit for royalty'.
You walked down the stairs, the lights switched off, and a dull yellow glow emitting from the living room. You walked in to a room covered in glowing candles, Pablo in the center, with a pink box tied in a bow. Hearing your steps, his head turned to you, and his jaw went slack. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, admiring the way the soft fabric hugged your hips and framed your form beautifully, like a renaissance painting in the flesh. Your bare face, still fresh from the shower, took his breath away. The words died on his lips. He knew it was stupid to say out loud, but he knew that he had never laid eyes on something so stunning. He had never looked at something with so much love. He had never wanted to be this close with someone, and was certain that he would never feel this way about anyone else. He was so irreparably in love with you, and he had never felt better.
You walked over, arms wrapping around your form to deflect Gavi's intense stare. You had rarely worn sexy things in front of Gavi for prolonged periods of time, and were not used to the admiration. You moved towards him, sitting across from him on the plush rug.
"Princesa, we have all this furniture and you're sitting on the floor?" He asked with a light laugh.
Grabbing his hand, you laced your fingers with his. "I wanted you to be able to see this beautiful present up close. And plus, this is our house. We can make our own rules."
He moved his free hand up to your shoulder, tracing it down the fabric, mapping the planes of your body. His eyes meet yours again, and the love they're swimming in hits you like a ton of bricks. He loves you. Pablo Gavi loves you as much as you love him. Separating from you, he turns around, and you hear a match light and smell smoke faintly. He turns back around, placing a plate before you, with one perfectly piped cupcake and a beautiful candle. Your eyes began to water, and you looked at your lover.
"Pablo, it's so beautiful."
"Wait, I almost forgot." He pushed the wrapped present towards you., It was now 11:58pm, and he urged you to hurry.
"So you can use it on your birthday." Your fingers pulled at the plush velvet ribbon, removing the lid and moving the matching paper out of the way. You reached in and pulled out a beautiful vintage polaroid camera.
"Pablo! You shouldn't have - this probably cost a fortune!"
His laugh echoed through the empty room. "That's actually one of your cheaper gifts. Hurry, bring it here so I can take a picture of you and your cupcake."
"One of?" You asked, bewildered as you slid your camera over.
"Yes darling. You're my princesa, and I'm going to treat you like one."
You went through 8 sheets of film on your birthday. The first was one Pablo had captured of you blowing out your candle, your nightgown giving off an ethereal sheen. The next was a selfie of you and and Pablo, both smiling from ear to ear after passionate thank you's for the presents. The third was a candid Gavi had taken, your sleeping form with your hair splayed across the pillow. 4 and 5 were dolled up pictures of you in your birthday dress, looking and feeling like a million bucks, not just because of the clothes, but because of the way Pablo was making you feel. 6 was a picture of a little blue bag with 'Tiffany & Co.' in black print, and a silver pendant with a cursive G engraved into it. Number 7 had been gifted to the girl at the bakery who had helped Gavi, showing a picture of the two of you sitting behind your magnificently piped birthday cake, the ruffles and swirls dulled by the grainy nature of the photo. And finally, number 8 was the one you kept by your bed. It was taken by that same bakery girl, and showed you kissing Pablo on the cheek, his smile bright as he looked at your birthday cake, and a silver spot of light glimmering on your neck. In pink sharpie, you put the date, and in your best cursive you captioned the picture,
'my lover'
~~~
Hey everyone! THANK YOU SM TO EVERYONE WHO SENT ME BIRTHDAY MESSAGES!!! I SAW ALL OF THEM AND HAVEN'T BE ABLE TO REPLY BECAUSE I HAVEN'T BEEN ON MY LAPTOP AND THEY DON'T SHOW PROPERLY ON MY PHONE! Back after a long while to post a little birthday special in light of me turning 22! It's based on, funnily enough, the events of my actual birthday, and a certain Taylor Swift song that I heard live. I hope you all enjoy, and can't wait to write more stuff for you guys!! (I can't believe it's almost 4am jet lag is kicking my ass).
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Stepping Stones, Spencer Reid
This was a request, and it’s a bit different from what I usually write. The request included flashbacks, and I don’t write them in many of my fics, so I hope they don’t sound too bad.
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Word Count: 1.3k~
It’s funny how one room in a house can change so much over the span of two years. What was once grey walls are now painted a light blue, and the area once covered with stacks of books now holds various stuffed animals and baby toys. The desk was probably the hardest to move, but the crib wasn’t much better. Not to mention the best change in the whole house was the new presence of a baby boy - mine and Spencer’s baby boy.
After my brother died, it felt like nothing could bring me happiness. Spencer tried and tried, but even his smiling face seemingly couldn’t bring me out of my funk. Although, his hard work did end up helping me, albeit slowly. Thankfully, Spencer understood where I was coming from, and he always assured me that it was okay when I felt bad about not sharing his happy moments with him.
It was only after Scratch’s death that I could feel the warmth that I hadn’t felt in such a long time. Of course, I was on morphine at the same time as I didn’t come out unscathed when it came to catching Scratch. He managed to get one bullet in me before falling to his death and making me fall back onto the roof of the building with a bullet lodged in my shoulder. I don’t remember much from those moments of terror, but I do remember Spencer’s face appearing above mine with nothing but fear written all over it. What would you do if your wife was bleeding out on a rooftop?
When I woke up in the hospital the next day, a lot of things ran through my head. First was the realization that Prentiss was alive and safe, and the second was that the man who killed my brother was now dead, to which I ended up sobbing in my hospital bed. Spencer, whom I hadn’t even noticed in the corner of the room, immediately rushed over and tried to make sure I was okay, and to his delight, I was. We were both alright after so long of a hell we had to face.
Steven’s funeral was the next step I had to take, and even though I didn’t like the idea of arriving at my older brother’s funeral with a cast and bruises adorning my face, I went. I wouldn’t say it felt good to say goodbye to him, but it was a relief to see him in a more peaceful manner than when I first saw him deceased. When that happened, it ended with me screaming and sobbing while Luke held me back from running to his body in the SUV. I didn’t know what else to do in that situation. I felt numb; it was as if I was losing my mind at the sight of Steven with a broken neck.
Fortunately, I got to see Monica there, and eventually, I got to talk to her as well. I felt the self-guilt gnawing away at my stomach, and even though I didn’t say anything that showed it, Monica knew. Instead of saying words she knew I wouldn’t believe, she pulled me close and held me as we both quietly wept. My sister-in-law and I always had a close relationship like that, and I couldn’t be more thankful.
~~~
“Your auntie Monica has always loved your mommy,” I whisper to the baby boy in my arms as he stares up at me with eyes to mirror his father’s own chocolate orbs. “She used to come over when she was dating your uncle and always spend a few minutes with me to help me feel counted,” I add, “When your daddy and I got married, she helped out a lot. She was mommy’s bridesmaid, and both she and your uncle made me and daddy feel so loved.”
~~~
Two months before Steven’s death was mine and Spencer’s wedding. In retrospect, I couldn’t be more thankful that we chose the date we did as my brother got to not only witness one of the happiest days of my life but he got to walk me down the aisle as well. Not to mention he got to hand me off to a man whom I not only loved, but a man that Stephen and Monica knew would treat me right. Spencer and I had been dating for two years, and we both knew that neither of us ever wanted to be with anybody else. In my heart, I knew I didn’t want to go through any more of life’s moments without him by my side permanently, and at the altar, Spencer confessed the same thing. We wanted everything together, the bad and the good.
~~~
“And so, that’s where you come into the picture, Henry Stephen Reid,” I murmur, smiling as the restless baby starts to close his eyes. As he’s gotten older and hit the six month mark, it’s easier to put him down for a nap, and I couldn’t be more thankful.
~~~
Barely a year had passed after Stephen’s death when I found out I was pregnant. Both Spencer and I were ecstatic, along with the rest of the BAU when we discovered the news. I don’t think anyone stopped smiling for the entire nine months I was pregnant. The person I had the hardest time telling my pregnancy to was my sister-in-law, Monica. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t want to take her away from mourning Stephen or if I was scared of how she would react. Although, I think a majority of my problem was the heartbreaking irony that presented itself to me in this situation: when life was taken away from me, it was given back in another way.
Spencer and I had been married for a year then, and in all honesty, the thought of pregnancy wasn’t a priority. It wasn’t something we were too concerned about - if it happened, it happened, but we would be happy. The only problem was that after a year without protection, we still had no baby to show. Sadly, we both realized the possibility that maybe we weren’t meant to be parents. Now that I think about it, it was kind of ridiculous that we even thought to give up after only a single year.
~~~
“Is he down for the afternoon?” Spencer asks as I walk out into the kitchen, baby-free. Well, kind of.
“Yes, he is,” I murmur, walking up next to Spencer at the counter where he flips through one of my cookbooks. “Did you find something for us to have for dinner?” I ask, looking up at his concentrated face. I could stare at his face all day, and not have a single worry.
Turning toward me with a smile, Spencer wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me to him, kissing the side of my head. “Do you think the littlest one would like stuffed shells tonight?” He asks, one hand moving to caress my non-existent bump.
“Spence,” I say his name with a small laugh, reaching up to hold his face. Still my biggest advocate in life, Spencer smiles down at me, his happiness somehow connected to my own. “I’m only ten weeks along; I’m sure they’ll be fine,” I point out, Spencer’s hold on me never faltering. Despite all of the things we've been through together, the good or bad, we’re still there for each other and always will be.
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homeofthepeculiar · 8 days
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Over the garden wall was such a special series 🥹🫶🏻 before time runs out, i simply MUST put in my own request for a drabble - I need to see more of the Princess and Marietta’s relationship! Maybe Marietta (along with Siobhan!) taking care of the kids one day?
Ahh thank you, my dear! Here you go, I hope this is kinda like what you wanted lol 💕
Over the Garden Wall Drabble - More Than a Maid Series Masterlist
Word Count: 964
Having three children was, sometimes, not the most glamorous thing Y/N had ever experienced. She and Benedict had decided to forgo the countless maids and governesses and tutors that were the norm for royalty. The children still had those, of course, but not nearly as many as was expected. There were certain times that Y/N regretted that decision. 
Perhaps it was because Karina would not stop crying or because Isabel was now at that curious age where she got her hands in everything, or because Julian had started throwing his toys, or, and this was the most likely option, Benedict was not there. 
“I love you,” Y/N kept muttering. She kept reminding herself. “I love you, you are so cute, you are amazing, you are the best. Good God, stop crying.” She bounced Karina on her hip. “Isabel, stop that,” she hissed as the girl started to reach for the easel that had been left unattended. And…the paint toppled over. And…she had gotten her hands in it. “Julian!” she screeched as he crawled over to slap his hands in the paint alongside his sister. He could walk some, but not terribly far. But he was such a fast crawler. 
A figure passed the open doors, then stopped, and turned back. 
“Help,” Y/N whined, seeing Marietta in the doorway. Siobhan appeared only seconds later. “I can see you two trying not to laugh,” she sighed. “Isabel!” she shouted as she heard another clattering. That would be the paintbrushes. 
Marietta immediately ran for the girl and picked her up. Isabel yelped then dissolved into peals of laughter as she slapped her paint-covered hand on Marietta’s face. “Oh, God,” Y/N cried. Siobhan was there as well just in time to grab Julian, saving him from the canvas that almost fell on him. “I am at my wit’s end.”
Marietta let a chuckle through her lips. “Come, we will draw them a bath.” Karina was still crying. Screaming in Y/N's ears, more like, but she still followed Marietta and Siobhan through the halls until they found their way to the nursery wing.
It took a few minutes, but Karina finally cried herself to sleep. With a sigh of relief, Y/N put her in the crib and made her way to the other side of the room where Siobhan was struggling to wrangle both children while Marietta filled the tub with water. Y/N took Isabel from the woman’s hands. 
“Thank you,” the princess said with a small smile. “I love them, I do.”
“Mhmm,” Marietta said as she poured the water into the basin. “That does not mean that they are not trouble.”
“Mama, I want paint,” Isabel said.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Not now, my darling.”
“But, I want to!” she cried. The princess sat her daughter on her lap and shook her head firmly.
“No tears,” she said in a soft voice. “You can paint all you’d like when your father gets home. Just not now, alright?” Isabel immediately stopped crying and nodded. “So easily persuaded,” Y/N sighed. 
The bath was ready in no time and the children were carefully deposited. Marietta told Y/N to sit down while she and Siobhan took care of the children. The princess did not complain. 
“I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you,” she said with a sigh.
Marietta smiled at her as she scrubbed the red paint from beneath Isabel’s fingernails. “You know, it is time for Isabel to have a lady’s maid.”
The princess frowned. “I know…I just…Well, I will never find one as good as you and I can’t ask you to take on both me and her.”
Marietta’s face was soft. “I know someone who might be good.”
“You do?” Y/N asked, eyes wide. “And you…trust her?”
“Yes,” Marietta responded. “I will write a letter tonight.”
“Thank you,” the princess said with a sigh. She sat back in the chair and rested her hands over her stomach. She watched Marietta and Siobhan with the children. She watched the way they shared secret smiles and soft whispers. For a moment, Y/N's heart hurt. “You would make good mothers,” she said quietly. 
They both turned to her with wide eyes. Their expressions were almost identical. Perils of being around each other for so long. Y/N and Benedict were the same way. “You are,” she corrected. 
“You are their mother,” Marietta said.
Y/N shook her head. She stood and walked over to them, kneeling beside the bath. She ran her hands over Isabel’s wet hair and pressed a kiss to her head. “I might be, but…it takes a village, as they say. I wouldn’t be able to do it all without the two of you. Not just today but…well…every day.”
Marietta cleared her throat to fight back tears. Siobhan looked at her with a soft smile. “Thank you, Y/N,” Siobhan said. The princess’ shoulders fell in relief. She had finally stopped calling her ‘Your Royal Highness.’ It only took three years. 
“We love them as though they were our own,” Marietta said. “We all do.”
“I know,” Y/N nodded. “Benedict and I are…we are grateful. I don’t think we say that enough.”
“You don’t need to,” Marietta said. “We know.”
The children were cleaned and dressed soon enough. It wasn’t night time by any means, but they were tired, so Y/N allowed them some rest. She would regret it in the middle of the night when Isabel found her way to the bedroom she shared with Benedict, but it was alright. 
The princess stayed in the room with them, finding comfort again on her armchair. As she settled in, she saw Siobhan press the lightest and quickest kiss to Marietta’s cheek. It was enough to make Marietta smile, which made Y/N grin. 
Yes, she was lucky to have them.
-------------------
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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year
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Chapter Two
To snatch a short break from Nyx, who was in a positively vile mood due to teething, Feyre winnowed Nesta home. Lucien remained at the river estate to speak with Rhysand. His presence had Elain making an excuse why she needed to retreat to her bedroom despite Lucien saying nothing more than a polite hello. Nesta had wrinkled her nose up, disappointed with her sister for being too cowardly to tell Lucien if she did not care for him. 
‘Don’t make me go back,’ said Feyre, pressing her knuckles to her eyelids. ‘All he has done today is cry.’ 
‘Rhysand or Nyx?’
Feyre let out a sigh. ‘I am exhausted. Rhys is busy with Illyria. If I didn’t have the wraiths and Elain, I don’t know what I’d do. I never have a minute to paint anymore.’
Nesta jailed her tongue. She had wanted to say that’s what happens when a twenty-something year old has a child with a man she’s known for a couple of years. It was laughable that Feyre thought she might have time for painting with a baby and a court to manage. She said nothing, only waited for Feyre to say her goodbye rather than cause an upset. 
The house greeted her with a sharp tug of the curtains across the windows and back in lieu of a wave. She couldn’t help but smile at it. Lucien was right, it was a house - but it was still her friend. It had been the house who gently encouraged her to eat and shower each day when they had seemed like impossible tasks. 
It prepared food for her that evening despite her blood still being thick with sugar from the bakery. She ate alone in the quiet with a book pressed open beside her bowl of broccoli soup. 
Cassian didn’t arrive until late, when she was already busy in the bedroom. Mud had dried up his cheek and his hair was matted with it. He flopped into a chair in their bedroom. 
Nesta exhaled through her nose. ‘You’ll make the chair filthy. Stand up. Take your boots off.’
‘The house will clean it.’
‘That’s not the point,’ she protested. They didn’t need to make more work for the house for the sake of it.
At the sight of her open bag on the bed and the folded piles of clothes beside it, Cassian startled. ‘Visiting Emerie?’
‘No,’ she said airily. ‘I’m going to the Dawn Court.’
A hand landed on her shoulder to turn her. The light of his siphon nearly blinded her. She shielded her face from it, so Cassian covered it with his hand. 
‘Tell me that again. Dawn Court. Since when?’
‘Lucien invited me. I’d like to shadow him to see if I still want the role as emissary.’
‘Lucien is emissary. There can’t be two.’ 
‘Then tell Lucien I’m about to usurp him,’ she replied, turning back to her bag and adding a thin, lilac dress to it. She had been advised that it was very warm except near the sea where the breeze provided a blast of fresh air. 
Cassian stared at her for a moment. ‘Why are you in this mood?’
‘I’m not in any mood. Actually, I’m in a good mood. I’ve had a great day.’
‘So, you’ll just swan off with Vanserra and not tell me?’
‘You never tell me about going to Illyria.’
‘That’s my job.’
‘And maybe this will be mine. I can’t spend the rest of my life inside the warded walls of Velaris, never seeing anything else. You only ever take me to the Hewn City or Illyria so forgive me for wanting to branch out.’ She trampled on her temper. This was her mate. She had made a commitment to him for the rest of her life. ‘I’m going. That’s the end of it. Why don’t we spend time together this evening? We could go into the city for a drink-’
‘One of your taverns to get plastered in?’
‘I don’t have to drink. I haven’t in a long time. We could just take a walk or go for dinner or even stay here.’
‘I need to speak to Rhys about something.’
Her hope deflated. Of course. There was always something to talk to Rhysand about. That always took priority. And if Cassian spent time with Nesta then Rhys would inevitably appear in his head. Either that or one of the others would show up.
‘Fine. But I’m going early in the morning with Lucien.’
‘I’m not happy about you going there. Who says Lucien will protect you? That he won’t try anything?’
‘He’s my sister’s mate. I am your mate. The Dawn court is safe and furthermore Lucien is our ally.’ Her blood was beginning to boil. Cassian had spent plenty of time with Feyre and she’d never taken offence by it. None of the times that he ever flew Emerie back to Illyria incited any jealousy in Nesta either. 
‘I’m not happy,’ he repeated. 
Perhaps if she was better, she might have caved to the pressure or felt guilty by the disappointment nibbling at his features and called it off. Nesta had to do this. If anything, she had to do it to prove a point. She was made for more than the walls of Velaris. If Cassian couldn’t support that then… she’d have to figure out her next steps.
‘I’ll only be gone a night or two. Speak to Rhys quickly then we can-’
‘It won’t be quick. See you later.’
Without a further word, Cassian had turned on his heel. Without bothering to shower or change, he departed to the river estate, leaving Nesta to pack alone. She should have been used to it. Shouldn’t have gotten so upset every time that she was pushed aside in favour of Rhys or the others. After all, in the grand scheme of Cassian’s life, Nesta was little more than an inkblot compared to their enduring presence. Still, unwanted tears fell from her cheeks as Nesta continued to pack. She pretended not to notice them, as she did often.
That night, when her mate came home, he woke her with kisses down her spine. Before Nesta could even speak, Cassian had turned her onto her back and was sliding his length inside. It was nothing new. Sex was their only form of communication. It was good – as it always was – but Nesta could have done without the wake up.
‘Sorry that I was grumpy earlier,’ he murmured when he had finished then kissed the back of her neck softly. ‘Long day in Iron Crest. The males are the worst sort there.’
Cassian pulled Nesta a few inches across the mattress so that his chest pressed to her back.
‘I talked with Rhys about going to the Dawn Court. He doesn’t want you going with Lucien. He said we might be able to go in a few weeks.’
‘We?’
‘All of us. We need to speak to Thesan about a trade agreement.’
Disappointment seeped through Nesta, thick and clogging, catching in her throat. ‘But I wanted to go tomorrow. I wanted to be able to explore – not be cooped up in a room or trotted out in a meeting.’
‘We’ll find time for all of us to explore.’
It took little time for Cassian’s exhausted body to succumb to sleep. His arms had locked around her like a vice, holding her to him. Not right, not right, not right. Why was it Rhysand’s decision whether Nesta could leave or not? She wasn’t a damn prisoner – and certainly wasn’t one of his subjects. She might have saved his life – and his mate and child - but his lavish gifts and warm reception towards her lasted only a handful of weeks. Why was it Cassian’s business to even talk about it with Rhysand? The thought of them gathered around, discussing her again like she was an item on the itinerary for the evening had her clenching her hands into fists. She was sick of Cassian never being able to be apart from his family. He could never find time to be with just her. Nesta was beginning to worry that he couldn’t stand her company either – that he always needed others present because their words dried up too quickly together. Not that they talked amongst the inner circle. She was always to one side like an unwanted guest who they were forced to put up with.
***
When Lucien headed up to the roof, Nesta was already ready and waiting. A small bag was clutched in her hand. Rather than a smile, she greeted him with a brisk nod of her head. It was a cloudy morning. The days of glorious sunshine were stifled by a rough wind from the north. He was glad to be getting away for a handful of days.
‘Early riser,’ Lucien noted.
Nesta nodded again. ‘Are we leaping from the roof or hoping we’ll grow wings?’
As if on cue, Azriel appeared from the narrow stairway and walked onto the roof. His black hair was tousled and shadows had made their home beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t been to sleep. ‘Ready?’
‘Yes. Just onto the street, please. I can winnow us to the Dawn Court.’
Azriel seemed to realise that Nesta was there because she was travelling with Lucien. Definitely not on form today. ‘You’re going? Did you tell Cass?’
‘Yes, I told him,’ she sniped back, voice slightly on edge. ‘Weren’t you at dinner last night?’
The shadowsinger shook his head. ‘I was elsewhere.’
Those three words had Nesta’s shoulders loosening. She seemed to let out a sigh of relief which did not fill Lucien with any sort of comfort. Before he could question the sudden ease that had come across Nesta, she had stepped towards Azriel, ready to be flown in his arms.
Lucien watched them go, pitying Nesta for the life she was trapped in. Fancy living in a place that she was a prisoner in. It was demeaning to have to ask somebody to bring her to and from her own home. His own demoralisation was about to begin as Azriel landed back on the roof. Neither of them particularly enjoyed being in such close proximity to the other. What had happened to Morrigan in the Autumn Court was also Lucien’s burden, in Azriel’s eyes. Lucien wouldn’t mention what had happened on Solstice though in retribution. The shadowsinger was aloof and alarming as it was. To bring that up whilst cradled in his arms was foolish.
‘When will you be back?’
Nesta stepped in before Lucien could, ‘Later. Thank you, Azriel. Goodbye.’
Her fingers enclosed around Lucien’s wrist like a claw, urging him to winnow.
They were met with a warm blast of air and bright sunlight that made Lucien shield his eye before he blinded Nesta.
Despite the niggling feeling that Nesta hadn’t been wholly honest, the look of sheer delight on her face swept those thoughts away. She blinked towards the sea, lips parting in wonder.
‘It’s beautiful.’
For a long while, they remained in silence. Lucien did not want to interrupt her vigil to the sea. In this quiet moment, he couldn’t help but compare her to her sisters. Nesta was not what he was expecting. He had only known her as the vicious protector of Elain, but that was not all she was. He had thought that Nesta was hard where Elain was soft. Maybe the eldest had never had the chance to be soft. Feyre’s loyalties were flimsy, but Nesta’s were as solid as stone. She was funny too, with a lethal wit that struck hard and fast.
With some coaxing, Lucien managed to tear Nesta away from the ocean to walk along the dusty streets of the Dawn Court. It was a pleasant place to be. Their winters were non-existent with temperatures dropping only slightly. Summer was filled with golden days that stretched on and on. Both of them were over dressed for the hot day ahead, so Lucien steered Nesta towards their lodging for the night. It was a pretty inn made of orange stone to reflect the sun from it. A mosaic of orange and yellow pieces in the shape of a sun covered the doors. Inside, it was cool thanks to its tiled floors and stone walls.
They managed to find twin rooms that had a door connecting them. It was the best outcome. The Dawn Court was safe – but Nesta Archeron seemed to have a target on her back in many places. He’d rather be able to reach her quickly if needed but they had their privacy too.
‘What is the plan for the day, Lucien?’
‘My meeting is in a couple of hours, so we can explore, if you like.’
‘During your meeting, what am I to do?’
‘Whatever you like,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Stay here. Visit something. There are many sights here that I can recommend. My friend, Nuan, resides here so we could meet her for dinner if you didn’t mind.’
Nesta blinked. ‘Why do I know that name?’
‘She created the faebane antidote.’ For good measure, he gestured to his ruined face, ‘and gave me an eye when Amarantha removed my original one.’
Grey eyes traced his scar then met his eyes. Most people avoided looking at it – or took brief, fleeting glances when they thought Lucien didn’t notice. Not Nesta. She refused to flinch from it. The usual revulsion didn’t come to her features either. She merely nodded and said it would be acceptable.
‘Pardon me for prying, but it was quite a swift escape from Velaris. Did you really tell Cassian that you were coming here with me?’
Lucien needed to know what sort of reception he might receive on the return to Velaris. The general of the Night Court’s armies hunting him down wasn’t on his agenda.
‘I told him. He wasn’t happy. He told Rhysand. He said no. I’m not their subject. And here we are.’
Ah, just as he had suspected. And that meant the shadowsinger would get it in the neck for unwittingly helping them to leave the House of Wind. Lucien was torn. He almost wanted to deliver Nesta back to save his own neck – but how could he? She’d summarised her miserable existence. Her mate had to give his approval. The high lord she didn’t want had also waded into a decision that was nothing to do with him. Miscommunication was the only reason why she had been able to remove herself from the red stone house carved into the mountain.
‘We’ll buy him a souvenir,’ he winked. ‘Change into something cooler. I’ll meet you on the balcony.’
When Lucien emerged, Nesta was already there. She leaned against the balcony in a pale-yellow gown. It fell to her toes but was thin enough that it floated, providing relief from the heat. It scooped low on the back, displaying her hard shoulder blades and a strange, shimmering tattoo. He hadn’t known she had made a bargain with anybody. Night Court bargains were generally black, like the whorls of Illyrians. Feeling his attention on her, Nesta turned.
‘You look nice. I’ve never seen you in yellow.’
She tugged at the narrow strap on her shoulder, uncomfortable in the gown. ‘I’ve never worn this.’
‘It looks lovely,’ he reassured her.
Her eyes flitted back to the view. The sea was visible from the balcony, luring Nesta to it again. Lucien knew she’d likely spend all day here if she could.
‘When we were first taken to Velaris, Mor had looked at us then went into the city to find us clothes.’ Nesta gave a slight laugh. ‘Elain’s were all pinks and tulle. Mine were yellow or floral. Definitely not me. They fit at least – and now they have a use.’
Their morning was spent combing the beach for shells. Nesta just kept pressing them into Lucien’s hands to hold for her, not speaking a lot, merely enjoying to be out in the fresh air. As the temperature began to climb, a faint blush stole across her thin cheeks.
She wasn’t at all like Elain. When he had first seen Elain properly, he had thought that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. And she was beautiful. It was a delicate, classic beauty. Nesta was different. She was wilder, more untameable, untouchable like the sea herself. Yes, Lucien could see why Eris had been prepared to lay an engagement on the table after a handful of dances. He always thought he could catch the uncatchable, tame the wild-spirited. Eris had likely seen Nesta as a challenge that only he could rise to. And Cassian had seen her as his given right as a mate.
‘Look at this one!’
Nesta held a starfish up to his face. He laughed briefly then remembered that Nesta had never been to the beach before.
‘It’s a living thing.’
‘Eurgh,’ she tossed it back towards the water – then he really did laugh.
‘You liked it a moment ago.’
‘Before I knew it was alive!’
Maybe he was bordering on dangerous territory, but Lucien hunted in the shallows for a crab to terrorise her with. When he found his prize, Nesta reacted exactly how she thought she might – by throwing her hands in the air and darting out of his way.
‘That is vile, Lucien.’
‘They’re delicious to eat.’
Nesta’s face screwed up in puzzlement. ‘I’m not so sure I like this place.’
 ***
While Lucien was busy with emissary business, Nesta had free reign in the Dawn Court. It was strange to have no routine, even stranger to have nobody to report to. Lucien had offered Nesta a handful of places to visit and given the recommendation to avoid the sun at noon when it was at its hottest. Embarrassment had swelled inside of her when Lucien had handed her a pouch of money to spend. She wished that she could have said no, but Nesta had no money of her own. She had believed Cassian when he said that she could use his money whenever she needed it. But Nesta never went anywhere without Cassian. Her life could only happen when Cassian experienced it too.
Her time was not spent idle. There was so much for her to see and do. Nesta explored the beach a little longer then visited a library with a great glass dome that nearly burnt her scalp. She visited the many shops along a main street, buying a ridiculous hat that she’d never wear again to protect her fair skin and little trinkets. There were many tinkerers in this city who created wondrous things that caught her eye. There was a sort of palace too that had been built from white stone. It had gardens running along one side of it that provided some shade. Many people stopped at the fountain to drink from the fresh water.
When Lucien found her later on, she was back in their rooms, resting on the bed. It wasn’t the sort of rests she used to take in the House of Wind when her motivation had evaporated. Her body was tired from the heat so it had demanded she stop until the weather cooled. He had tittered out a laugh at her prone form then touched a finger against her cheeks.
‘You’ve caught the sun.’
The skin was tight and tingling where he’d touched it. She excused herself from a meal with Nuan, claiming he could catch up with his friends without her unwanted presence. Lucien promised to find her later that evening, but, before he departed, ensured she’d drank lots of a water to fend off heat stroke.
It was difficult not to feel cross about her situation. Part of it was her own doing. She and Cassian had been like two pieces on a chess board, drawn to each other from the start. Whenever Nesta had aired those feelings that they weren’t a good match, they had been waved away by everybody else. They were opponents more often than not, rarely on the same side. Since their mating ceremony, Cassian had taken Nesta for granted. No escaping him now, a small voice said in her mind. If Nesta had stopped to think – to breathe – after what had happened then maybe she wouldn’t have rushed into something so eternal. Feyre had died. Nyx too. Then Nesta had touched the Harp after a week spent terrified and exhausted in the Illyrian Mountains, saving them all. Her heart had been tender. It had been bruised and broken and barely beating. So she had accepted the bond.
And every day since, Nesta wished she had not.
‘There you are,’ came Lucien’s voice.
Nesta had taken refuge for the evening in a broken-down watch tower. The stone had been claimed by time so parts of it were ruined, exposing it to the sky and the sea. It made a nice shelter though.
‘I have a surprise for you.’
Lucien’s voice echoed in the empty tower as he approached. Nesta peered down at him from one of the upper levels. In his arms, he carried a heavy stack of plates.
‘I hope it’s not that you’re about to host a dinner party.’
‘Come down here a moment.’
Once Nesta stood beside him, the precise reason why he had a stack of plates hadn’t become clear. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to explain.
‘Throw one at the wall.’
Hesitantly, Nesta lifted the top plate off. Despite believing it was a trick somehow, she dropped the plate to the floor but it didn’t shatter.
‘A little more conviction, please, my lady.’
With a furrowed brow, Nesta picked the plate back up and hurled it at the broken stone wall. It shattered brilliantly into massive shards.
‘Again,’ encouraged Lucien.
Another plate smashed against the rock and Nesta felt good.
‘Keep going.’
Needing no more encouragement, Nesta launched plate after plate in the watch tower, stepping back each time a shard threatened to shoot back towards them. The grin spreading across her face refused to leave even after every item of crockery had been destroyed.
‘Feel good?’
‘So good,’ she breathed. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. For once, it was due to excitement rather than fear. It had been a lifetime since anything had excited her.
She looked at the remains of the plates. ‘Was there a reason for this? An enemy’s plates?’
‘I just thought you could do with breaking something. Anger isn’t wrong, Nesta. It doesn’t need to be shut away. Anger is allowed.’
‘I feel as if I’m always angry.’
Lucien nodded then, ‘you’ve had a lot to be angry about.’
 ***
They settled for the evening beside the watch tower, watching the sun set together. Their legs dangled over a low cliff. Every now and then, they would need to raise them to avoid a soaking from a stronger wave. It was still warm despite the darkness settling in.
‘Sometimes I wonder if I should have just said yes to Eris’ proposal instead of this.’
Nesta gazed up at the sky, sighing slightly as her eyes snagged on the stars. Lucien really did feel for her. He tracked the bob of her throat as she swallowed.
‘No. You wouldn’t want that. As somebody who lived alongside Eris, you do not want that. Eris alone is bearable but you’d have to survive against my brothers and father too.’
‘Well, I’m always in second place to Rhys. Not even second place, I’m probably about fifth in the pecking order.’
How he longed to tell her that it wasn’t true. But Lucien had seen it first-hand. When news had reached him of the hike – the truth of it – he was disgusted. Rhysand would always be the centre of Cassian’s orbit. Feyre, Morrigan, Azriel, they were all part of it. It should have shifted at Nesta’s arrival. A mate should have been more. More important, more loved, more wanted. More everything.  
Nesta swallowed again. She was blinking rapidly, fending off tears that Lucien pretended not to see. ‘It’s not supposed to be like this, is it? I’m supposed to want to go home. I’m supposed to look forwards to seeing him. I’m not supposed to feel hurt by him so often. I’m not supposed to wish that I’d never accepted the bond.’
He reached over to take her hand. It felt so small within his. Nesta wasn’t a clawed beast that needed a hesitant approach towards. She was just a female thrust into a world that she did not understand. Lucien remembered Feyre – all snarling and anger – when she first came to Spring. Gently, he squeezed Nesta’s fingers. ‘No, I don’t believe it should be that way. Love should be celebrated. It shouldn’t bring dread.’
The female had many things to figure out. He could offer suggestions, advice, guidance, but it was her path to forge. He didn’t need to insert himself where it wasn’t wanted. But, Nesta was trapped between a rock and a hard place. With no finances, no way to leave, she was completely dependent on Cassian, just as Feyre was to Rhysand. That was exactly how his mother had been trapped. Day after day, his father had worn her done like a river eroding the rock.
‘If you make that decision,’ he said carefully, ‘to sever things then I will be there for support. It can be difficult when Cassian holds a lot of the power.’
‘Thank you, Lucien. You’re a kind person.’
‘Kind,’ he said, shrugging a shoulder. ‘With little money to my name, a ruined home in the mortal lands, and a face like this, kindness only goes so far.’
Nesta tilted her head. Her unflinching gaze landed on his scar again. There were some who worked hard to pretend it wasn’t there. They’d resolutely stare into his eyes, determined not to see it. That wasn’t Nesta. The pad of her thumb traced the ruined skin.
‘I think maybe Amarantha thought it wasn’t fair when she saw you. She had to give your brothers a fighting chance at finding a female. You’d be too handsome otherwise.’
He batted her fingers away, glad to see a mocking smile twisting her lips.
‘I have little to offer a female.’
‘A good heart is all one needs.’
Nesta wrapped her arms around her bent legs then tucked her chin on top of her knees, staring out towards the sea. The bright light of the moon rippled across the waves that dragged up the shore.
He didn’t know if Nesta was loyal. She’d proved her loyalty to Elain ten times over. But, would she be loyal to him – a male she barely knew? Lucien had nobody else to tell. Jurian and Vassa knew, encouraged it even. Taking a breath, he said, ‘I’ll be leaving Velaris soon. I will no longer work for the Night Court.’
Her eyes shot to him, lips parting slightly. ‘Why? Where will you go?’
‘I have been offered a position here – and one in the Day Court. I’m debating which to take. Day would allow a cordial relationship still with Night. The emissary role is yours, if you want it.’
She nodded, following his speech.
‘Which would you prefer? If you could choose with your heart, forget about political alliances, which one?’
Lucien swallowed against the lump in his throat. ‘I wish I could go home.’
‘Autumn?’
‘No. Spring. Autumn was a home for a long time, but after Jesminda, I don’t think I could ever be there again and be happy. Spring became my home. I loved my court.’
Until Feyre wiggled into their lives and uprooted it for so many people, damning the consequences.
‘The Night Court won’t ever feel like home for me,’ Nesta admitted. ‘I have so many bad memories associated with it. They tend to muddy any good ones.’
That was understandable. Even in the safety of Velaris, Nesta had been set upon in the library then forced into the Blood Rite not even two years later.
Softly, she asked, ‘What about Elain?’
‘Your sister has had enough time to strike up a conversation with me. I cannot force my presence on her. After Solstice, she made her feelings clear enough.’
‘Why was Solstice any different? She ignores you at every opportunity.’
‘If they want each other then that’s their decision.’
Nesta leaned her weight onto one hand as she moved towards him. Her brows pinched together. ‘If who want each other?’
Oh. She did not know. It wasn’t Lucien’s business. In a roundabout way, it was, he supposed although he had no sort of claim on Elain beyond a magical binding.
‘I would have thought you knew about it.’
‘About what, Lucien?’ The irritation rang out in Nesta’s voice.
‘I couldn’t sleep. I never settle well in Velaris. Elain and Azriel had a moonlight tryst until the high lord shut it down. That was the only one I’ve been nearby for, but undoubtedly there are more.’
‘That wretch,’ Nesta said, face contorting with annoyance. ‘At least have the decency to tell you she doesn’t want the bond rather than sneaking around. And Azriel? I will have him. Both of them. Bastards.’
Lucien waved his hand as if that might wave away both of their issues. ‘Elain never asked to be my mate. If she’s happy with Azriel then I’ll ensure the bond is not accepted. It’s just my luck really.’
‘You would let her go, like that?’
‘Yes.’
For a reason that he did not know, Nesta’s eyes filled with tears again. She blinked them away, not letting them spill over. ‘When I told Cassian that I never had a choice, do you know what he did? He started an argument with me on the Sidra. People avoided us. Said he’d not chosen to be shackled to me.’
Lucien couldn’t help it. The words came out before he could stop them. ‘And you still accepted the bond?’
Nesta shuddered. ‘Let’s go back to the inn. If I stay here any longer baring my bones to you, I might drown myself in the ocean.’
‘I’d probably join you.’
The female stood then reached out her hands to haul him to his feet. Lucien accepted. They began walking down the quiet streets, beneath the yellow faelight spilling from homes. It was still warm though not unbearable now.
‘Sorry that I never made an effort with you before.’
‘You’re not my mate,’ she replied, shrugging.
‘But I still could have tried.’
She nudged him with a closed fist, smiling slightly. ‘We’re friends now.’
‘United in misery.’
They both breathed a sigh of relief on the return to the inn when their rooms were gloriously cool. Their balcony doors remained open so Lucien could hear Nesta humming away to herself as she readied for bed.
‘I forgot to ask you. How was your day?’
She appeared on the balcony in an ivory night gown. Lucien tried not to look – it was his mate’s sister – but her long, lean legs were on display. He was still a male and this female could bring most males to their knees. The lace trim of the gown cut across the midpoint of her thighs. The thin straps of her nightgown were holding on for dear life. Lucien cast his eyes quickly towards the view although it was too dark to see anything.
‘It was lovely, thank you. I had a really nice time today. Thank you, Lucien, for taking me here. I really cannot thank you for it.’
‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed.’
‘Can we stay another night?’
‘Sure,’ he said, glad of company that wasn’t Jurian and Vassa’s bickering. ‘We could go elsewhere. I have friends in other courts.’
Nesta rolled her eyes. ‘Stop showing off that you have lots of friends when I only have two.’
Feigning pain, Lucien pressed a hand over his heart. ‘Two? I thought I had moved into the ranks of Nesta Archeron’s friend.’
‘Fine. Three friends. And a mate who would rather bed his high lord than me.’
He couldn’t help the rough laugh that came out.
Nesta scrubbed her face with her hands. ‘If I can’t make jokes about it then I really will be miserable. Oh, Lucien. What a life I have.’
‘Hopefully, Cassian will miss you terribly.’
Nesta nodded, before turning towards the bedroom. She paused then said, ‘That’s the problem. I haven’t missed him at all.’
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Note
How did the centre Mirabel react once she realised how much of pigment she had lost?
Mirabel swore she was dreaming when she passed by the mirror. They had only been in the new house for a handful of hours and she was still getting use to the modern layout. If she hadn’t walked into the bathroom, needing to clean her hands from some of Isabela’s pollen, she would have assumed it was some creepy portrait hanging on the wall. A painting of a ghost or something if she were to guess, from the pale and almost lifeless-looking figure staring back at her.
But, said portrait moved with her. Eyes widening and blinking as it shifted back from the sink, watery coloured liquid cascading between white fingers. As she breathed heavily, her reflection did too.
What the actual hell?
She knew that she lost pigment in her hands. She remembers them slowly losing their colour and warmth, disappearing in odd splotches. The room in the centre was quite dark so she was never fully aware of the extent - it would have helped if she had a mirror and her vision (at a distance) wasn’t so blurry - but she knew it was more than just her hands. She never realised it was quite this bad though. She can barely recognise herself. Her hair looks like it has been completely bleached. God, even her eyebrows and lashes… there’s a few spots of her actual skin colour still visible across her body, if that is any mercy.
The eyes are what threw her the most - they weren’t even the same. She had never heard of eyes being two different colours before. One eye, her left (the mirror’s right), was the same amber eyes of a doe that have been in her head since she was born. The other eye wasn’t remotely brown at all. No colour at all. There was more colour in the pollen coming off her hands than her whole body.
This couldn’t be real… this had to be a dream. Of course it was. Any second now she would wake up back in the centre from whatever torture she was being subjected to that day. Why would she ever think any of this could be real? Why would she ever get a gift? Why would they make it out of the centre in one piece? Why would things ever be good for them?!
That’s when Isabela sauntered in, completely covered in pollen and not being careful with what she was staining as she pushed the door open.
“Yeah, so, apparently Dolores was right and the adults are in fact not happy to have me redecorate the sitting room,” Isabela was saying, chuckling to herself. “Which is their loss. I think I improved the living room; plants give us oxygen to live, so it makes sense… you okay, sis? I don’t think you’ve blinked since I walked in?”
“This isn’t real,” Mirabel mumbled.
“What isn’t?”
“This… you… I’m not here…”
“You definitely are.” To prove the point, Isabela leaned over and lightly pinched her arm. Mirabel felt her knees give it out as she winced in pain. It wasn’t that sore; it was just what it meant. “Um… you okay?”
Mirabel didn’t answer. She couldn’t bring herself to get a word out. She just sobbed, staring at herself in horror. Her hands, her arms, her legs, the ends of her hair. She could almost make out the little holes of where the injections had been forced into her.
Isabela quickly washed the majority of the pollen off her arms and face, before crouching down on the floor beside Mirabel. Mirabel didn’t say anything and barely looked her way. She gently picked up her sister’s hands and dried them off with a towel, which finally made Mirabel look up at her.
“I’m sorry,” she says first. She doesn’t actually know what to say, but she knows she should say something. She knows she would want someone to talk to her if she was in Mirabel’s tiny shoes. “I know you might not feel like yourself, right now… or maybe ever. And you can change your hair or dress or name or whatever you want to make yourself feel better, and we’ll all support you with it because we’re your family. We’re not gonna leave you or throw you out or anything. Point is, you are still my little sister and I love you.”
Mirabel didn’t do anything for a moment, eventually she settled on throwing her arms around her sister and just crying into Isabela’s shoulder.
Isabela returned the hug, petting her hair gently. She wouldn’t usually, but just in case, Mirabel was worried that people would be freaked out and uncomfortable with the change of skin and hair. It was best just to prove she wasn’t.
“Besides,” she added, half-joking. “You aren’t getting out of dealing with my chaos that easy.”
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kukuma-kit · 8 months
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Audacious Venerate
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Meet’ n’ Greet
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☆: * parings: College, Human! Lo'ak x Human!Reader
☆: * warnings: none, mentions of sexy women tho- ☆: * Characters: Lo'ak, Neteyam, Tuk, Kiri, Jake, Neytiri ☆: * Wordcount: 983
☆: * Na'vi glossary: Ftang nga- stop that. Yom wutsot- eat your meal, sa'nok- mother
☆: * Note(s): I'm not too happy about this one but I am satisfied enough, this is only the first part though:) Forgot who the artist is but if you know, let me know too!:)
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Finally getting to move out but you have to wait.
Or..
You find yourself thinking back to Lo’aks light hearted flirting and feeling butterflies in your stomach.
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"Ftang nga!!" "Yom wutsot!" Neytiri exclaimed, tired of her younger son and second eldest sister bickering over dinner. "sa'nok! sa'nok!!" Tuk ran over, Jake calling out to her about forgetting to take her shoes off and not run in the house. Neytiri couldn't help but smile at the family, seeing her kids laugh and talk about school. Although the constant bickering and trouble her kids put her through, she missed seeing her kids all day, not expecting Jake to come up behind her and put a hand on her waist. "Didn't notice how much I missed' em, huh" Neytiri chuckled at that, resting her head on Jake's shoulder. "eww!! mom! dad!!" Tuk might be older now but that didn't mean she wouldn't pass down a chance to tease her parents and their undying love for each other. The rest of the kids hurried the couple over, wanting to eat already but they always waited for their parents. ------------------------------------------------------------
I groaned in frustration, quickly pulling out my phone and placing it to my ear. As I made my way to the exit doors, I waited for the call to connect. Ao'nung was supposed to pick me up and take me to my new place so we could get the keys. He had texted me earlier that they had finished gathering their belongings and that Lo'ak and Neteyam were fixing up the room.
It wasn't even two months ago when Neteyam introduced you to Lo'ak, who offered you his old room that he had shared with Lo'ak. The room had been used as a storage unit until now. Due to some mishaps involving the wall paint and broken flooring, they had to repair both the walls and floors along with some wall linings.
To contribute to the apartment expenses and rent, you took on half of them. However, your current job wasn't making things easy, so you barely managed to cover your share of expenses. Fortunately, you enrolled in mixologist classes to supplement your income. "Yo?" " it alright if I swing by earlier than planned?" I took a sharp inhale before speaking, unprepared for the grogginess of sleep in Lo'ak's voice as I glanced down. Fiddling with my key charm, I walked to Ao'nung's car and stepped inside. We exchanged looks before he drove off.
"Huh? Oh, yeah- that's fine. Are you on your way?"
"Yeah, see ya in a bit."
The call ended, and Lo'ak wasn't too far - just a 25-minute drive from campus. To pass the time, Ao'nung and I enthusiastically sang along to our favorite tunes. Before we knew it, we were climbing the steps to the apartment and knocking on the door. Lo'ak emerged wearing sweatpants and a muscle shirt, his locks slicked back into a bun. He smirked at me, nodded at Ao'nung, and let us in.
"Hey, ma. The keys are right on the counter," he said as he followed me into the kitchen and poured some juice into a cup.
"You got what we need?"
"Of course," Lo'ak replied snarkily to Ao'nung as he turned to leave, tossing a bag to Ao'nung who was exchanging goodbyes to you. "Me and Neteyam just finished clearing the room, we're waiting for the supplies to come in" He informed me as I nodded before taking a look around the place, Lo'ak behind my trail as he told me what was what. After some touring and light-hearted flirting from Lo'ak, we settled down on the sofa and engaged in conversation about the plans. Time flew by, and he kindly offered to give me a lift.
"So you're going to be a bartender?" I had mentioned to Lo'ak that I was taking mixology classes, which required some explanation. Lo'ak seemed genuinely impressed, admiring the confidence it takes to be a bartender in certain establishments. Although it didn't feel like a big deal to me, I appreciated his sentiment.
"Yeah, I'll be like those hot skilled women pouring and shaking drinks," I joked. Lo'ak laughed at this, which made me chuckle too.
"For real, and looking great in the process," he added. Surprisingly, the thought of bartending and impressing Lo'ak stirred some flattering butterflies within me. "ya'know, you're not so bad yourself" I spoke softly now, looking out the window with my chin in my palm, I hear Lo'ak scoff, chuckling under his breath as he took a right. "uh huh? that so, ma?"
I smiled at him, noticing that he was already looking at me before he turned his attention back to the road. I hadn't even realized we'd pulled up to my driveway when he parked and opened the door for me, then returned to his spot after closing it and watching me get to my door-step. "I'll see you around, Lo'ak." I yelled out to him.
Watching Lo'ak reverse out, he blinked his headlights at me three times. A way of saying "goodbye", it was cute. I unlocked my door and took off my shoes as Ghost came running towards me.
"Hey, buddy! Mama's back!" I picked him up and walked to the kitchen, pouring some cat food for him to eat while I searched online for furniture. Reflecting on today's events, I realized Lo'ak wasn't so bad compared to our previous encounters - not that they were awful, but he often found himself in trouble and scolded by Neteyam.
My cheeks flushed as I recalled Lo'ak's lighthearted flirting – his subtle hand placements and the way he held the door open for me. He was quite the gentleman, to my surprise. Ghost, my cat, sat in front of me, blocking my phone view while placing his paw on my cheek and rubbing his cheek against my own. Typically, this meant he was ready for bed, so I scooped him up and headed to the room. After taking a quick shower, I lay down with Ghost curled up in my arms.
------------------------------------------ Reblogs and comments are welcomed:)
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kekaki-cupcakes · 2 days
Note
Heyyy can you please write something for Nico x male reader where Nico has seen reader around camp and reader is friendly and always laughing and talking with everyone. And Nico develops a crush on reader and eventually he decides to confess to reader when he sees them in the woods. Fluffy mainly but like a little spicey at the end if u do that stuff? :)
hey there bestie, let's pretend it hasn't been two months. this fic is also for @golden-boy-muda 's request for nico x transmasc reader <3
I couldn't find an idea in my empty ol head for this request but then I was looking for old oil painting wallpapers for my phone and now you have this incredibly sappy 3.2k of art references [I advise you keep another tab open for cross-referencing if you want the fUlL eXpErIeNcE]
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Oil on Canvas--- Nico di Angelo x transmasc reader [3.2k] »»————- ★ ————-««
Nico definitely isn’t a stalker, he understands boundaries [once Jason explains them to him, of course], but he might have a bit of a staring problem. 
Sometimes he’s just eating gluten free waffles with Hazel in the dining pavilion and ends up watching you shove your siblings around and plait your little sister's hair so it doesn’t get in her face when she goes Pegasus riding.
He spooned some blueberries onto his plate. 
It’s not his fault.
It’s yours, if anything. What is he supposed to do apart from feel like there’s moths beneath his ribcage when you pose, your nose scrunched, up for photos with Drew’s polaroid camera that’s covered with inappropriate stickers? 
Hazel elbowed him meaningfully in the side when he couldn’t help but grin because Holy Hades, a single person shouldn’t be able to look that much like the painting Ophelia [by friedrich heyser, to be specific], just because they wore a green camp shirt and a pearl necklace. 
Maybe it was his fault that he was comparing you to beautiful paintings. 
He scooped the blueberries onto his half eaten waffle and reached for the maple syrup Hazel had finished drowning her breakfast in. 
The Stoll brother’s mortal mum had sent a stack of paintings from art galleries all over the world last Christmas, and they’d let him pick out a few of the older more poetic ones that didn’t have enough blood and guts for their taste. 
Now the oil paintings of lakes and birds and crying angels and… mainly cats, actually, hung around the dark walled Cabin he slept in. 
Your laugh when you threw strawberries at Kayla and Austin while they worked in the infirmary reminded him of Angel [carl von marr, of course] and he felt like Chat a difficult catch [charles van den eycken] when you walked right past him without even glancing back.
So he’d made peace with watching from afar how you would forget daily to put sunscreen on but somehow always remembered to wear this pair of white crocheted gloves that looked like cat paws. 
On a completely irrelevant note, Nico was learning to crochet. 
Hazel made eye contact with him again when he looked from you to her, and he plugged his ears and glared before she started kicking him in the shins and begging him to pluck up the courage to walk over and even just make eye contact. 
Not that he didn’t want to. 
He may have lined up in his catalog of daydreams, this scenario where you both went down to the beach. Any beach, really. You’d collect shells and eat popcorn and grapes and lemonade and squish sand between your toes and pick up crabs with him. 
PROMENADE ON THE BEACH [Charles Atamian, obviously].
There was another scenario where he’d take you to the farmers market. It had the biggest bouquets of flowers, and rows upon rows of fruits and vegetables and incense and beaded jewelry. 
When he was laying in bed underneath the fluffy zebra patterned duvets that Piper forced him to use, mainly because they matched the dark reds of the cushions and browns of the bookshelves and antique lamps in the cabin so well, you were walking down the rows of little stores with him.
You were holding his hand with those soft cat paw gloves and you liked the feel of his rings [he’d read that people liked rings in a book, somewhere] and you’d filled the Studio Ghibli tote bag you had with berries. 
He’d watched most of the movies after he saw your bag. He liked Arriety the best. 
Clarisse stomped past the Hades table, leaving bloody footprints no one asked about, and smacked him in the back of his head. Nico went back to eating his waffles and daydreaming about your smile. 
In the farmers market you would sniff candles and never buy them because Hazel had far too many for all of her spells and the such that he would never run out. And what was Hazel’s was his and what was his was hers, meaning that what was Hazel’s was yours. 
Because Nico would give everything he owned, even his favorite jacket, for you to look his way. 
And he would buy you flowers, whichever were your favorite. 
Maybe the ones from the painting Hazel forced him to take because ‘you can’t just not hang a painting that literally is you, Neeks’. 
Italian Girl with Flowers. Joaquin Sorolla. 1886. 
He didn’t see the resemblance.
But it didn’t really matter, because he’d get to watch you looking at all the cool things for sale and then he’d take you to the best gelato he’d found so far [he was making a list] or just use the shadows, and take you to a proper gelato shop. Whatever you wanted to do, really.
Nico blinked. He huffed, mainly at himself, and stabbed his waffle. It fell apart on the fork.
“Why’re you angry?”
He looked up from his plate, to Hazel. She was sitting opposite him with a mustache made of orange juice. “...I’m not.”
“You’re not supposed to be pushing down your emotions, remember?” she said sternly, and started picking the green bits off a strawberry. She was eating as many berries as she could, since she wasn’t allowed lollies anymore. The perks of braces. 
Nico looked away. “I’m fine.”
“You’re thinking about the cat glove girl, aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.
“Cat glove boy, remember?” he muttered, and took a bite of his waffle, wiping squished blueberries off his chin.
Hazel’s golden eyes widened, “Oh yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” he said, and was grateful for the excuse to peek your way. You were eating toast. Very pretty-ily. He felt his face heat up.
Hazel perked up, a mischievous grin he didn’t appreciate on her face. “Okay! I’ll go apologize to your boyfriend then-”
Nico stared at her. Why was she like this? She actually went to stand up, and then he yanked her sleeve, pulling her back down to the table. “No! Don’t just… you can’t… stop!”
“You didn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend,” Jason chuckled, sitting down next to Hazel. 
“I hate you all,” Nico said. 
It was torture. 
He felt like Sleepy time potion [Vanessa Stockhard], stuck in the middle of your loveliness, unable to do anything except stare and hope that his face wasn’t too as red as the mushroom he was sitting on. 
In the painting. 
Not in real life. 
Obviously. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
Nico stared down at the hat in his lap.
He’d done it. He’d actually finished one of the hundreds of projects he’d started in Piper’s efforts to find him a hobby that wasn’t sitting on the fences of cemeteries or standing in line at Mcdonalds. 
He had lots of other hobbies, he just… couldn’t come up with them when she was arguing with him. 
So they’d gone through writing, painting, records, sleeping, which he excelled in, and then crocheting. None had lasted very long, but he may have had an idea half way through trying to stab Piper with the crocheting stick.
And now he had a white bucket hat with cat ears.
He threw it to the end of his bed, and hid underneath his duvet. Fuck. 
Repose. Malcolm Liepke. 1953. 
What on Olympus was he supposed to do about the way he wanted to hold you so badly he felt like throwing up and tearing his hair out?
He lay underneath in the pocket of stuffy darkness for a moment, before sitting up, untangling his blankets and teddies from him, and then standing. He may have just had the greatest idea anyone had ever thought of before.
Hazel was still in the shower, singing, most likely, so he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack that was actually just a skeleton, and then stomped out of his cabin, the stupid hat in his fist.
His heart was beating wildly. Stupid heart. 
The Wedding Dress. Fred Ellwell. 1911.
He rubbed his face and groaned at the sky. The stars were just peeking out, but it was still pink and yellow, and the sun hadn’t dipped yet. It was hidden by the trees he was trudging through, though. 
Fuck.
His chest was hurting. 
Nico scrunched up the stupid perfect crocheted hat that just had to stupidly perfectly match your stupid perfect cat gloves because Nico was stupidly perfectly obsessed with you. 
You, who was stupidly perfect.
Fuck. 
Psyche Weeping. Kinuko Y Craft. 1995.
He trod on twigs that broke underneath his boots and weaved through the tree’s that slowly became more and more laden with hanging pendants and wind chimes and ruins carved into the bark.
He stepped over a thin stream. A frog croaked at him like it was dying. As if it could ever feel like it was dying. As if it could ever fall in love.
Nico groaned at the sky again. 
“Just let it all out.”
He turned, and glared. “Do you mind?”
“Yes, actually,” Lou Ellen said, raising a purple eyebrow. It matched the undersides of her curly hair. She pointed to the cabin concealed in shadows and moss and stones behind her. “This is my house. And you are yelling very loudly.”
“I’m not yelling,” Nico argued. “I’m groaning.”
She stared at him for a second. She rolled her eyes. “Just come in, what do you need?”
“I need a spell. Or a charm. Or hex,” Nico said, following her through the wooden double doors. A wind chime tinkled even though the air was still. There were a few bunks lined up against the wall to one side. “Or a magic thing. I don’t care which one.” 
The rest of the cabin was filled with small coffin shaped pet beds and empty pink soda cans and voodoo dolls hanging from the roof and rugs with cats wearing strawberry hats on the fluffy material and misty crystal balls. 
Lou Ellen lent back on a desk stacked high with papers and paperweights that were actually jars filled with things. “Okay. I have three rules. I don’t kill people, and I don’t make people fall in love.”
“...And?”
“I’ll break both if it’ll be fun?”
Nico frowned. “No. Aren’t you supposed to say you won’t bring people back from the dead? That’s always the third rule.”
She squinted at him. “Uh…no. I send those people to you.” 
Nico squinted back at her, sticking his tongue out. He fiddled with the stupid perfect hat and looked around. There was just more creepy things and stuffed animals. “Whatever. I need your help.”
“With what?”
“I need you to… like,” Nico started. He sighed. He looked away. 
This was awful. 
He was not about to admit that he might be in love, even if it was to reverse the feelings in the first place with whatever heart ripping out brain altering magic was necessary. 
The Apollo cabin would find out through the witch in less than thirty seconds. He would never live it down. 
Nico groaned again. “Oh for fucks sake, do you need me to fic your voicebox or something?” Lou Ellen hissed. 
Nico glared at her. He groaned again, and then whirled around and stomped out of the weird mossy mushroom cabin. “Nevermind!”
“Fine! Have it your way!...weird little emo.”
Nico glared at the frog croaking at him, and kept walking through the forest. 
He followed the little stream through the woods until he could hear wind chimes or Taylor Swift’s latest album anymore. 
The little stream widened into a proper stream, filled with a lot more frogs. Why were there so many frogs? He nearly stood on a green one leaping across the path. Stupid frog.
Nico stuffed his hands into his pockets, along with the hat. He was tempted to just toss it into the river. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of the silly feelings that felt like the biggest things in the world to him and his silly head full of thoughts about your lips.
Maybe the frogs could use the hat as a home.
“Here froggie… Come here… I said, come here... No I am not taking a tone with you!” 
Nico froze. 
Fuck. He took a deep breath, probably too loudly. He glanced to the side. 
Of course you were catching frogs, knee deep in a river.
You looked over, making eye contact, and Nico realized the moths underneath his ribcage were turning into bats. You squinted at him, hands on your hips, while water swirled around and leaves drifted from the trees above. A bucket was wedged between two rocks next to you.
A frog jumped out of it and landed near your leg, on a lillypad. 
“Look Albert,” you said, turning to the frog. “It’s a little Victorian ghost.”
“...I’m Italian,” Nico said quietly. He stared at you. He couldn’t help it. Wow. Fuck. Leo was right. He really was pathetic. “And I’m not a ghost.”
“Okay, Victorian ghost.” 
Nico stared at you. Fuck.
After that exchange, he should be able to hate you. Right? Right. He now resented you, and the moths turned bats would stop clawing at his chest and he would go back to having a normal life. 
Right?
Wrong.
You squinted at Nico, and then slowly turned to Albert. “I think the cute Victorian ghost is having a stroke.”
Nico blinked once, gulped, and then marched forward through the cold water and frogs, his shoes squelching loudly. Gods. This was so embarrassing. But you thought he was cute, even if you also thought he was a dead english boy, so he would be content with dying from embarrassment. 
He shoved the stupid perfect hat into your stupid perfect hands.
And then left in about 0.3 seconds. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
You stared down at your pancakes. Why were they so gray looking? Had someone poisoned them? You figured that it would be a pretty good way to die, and tipped extra maple syrup onto them before you dug in. 
To counterbalance the poison, of course.
You scratched at the mosquito bite underneath the strap of your binder. It had flowers embroidered into it. Your binder. Not the mosquito bite.
One of your siblings across from you kicked at your shin, probably on purpose, but you continued to eat your odd tasting pancakes and picked blueberry grit off your white cat paw gloves. They were your favorite gloves. 
They also matched your new hat. The new hat that the cute Victorian but actually Italian ghost boy had given you before he teleported away with whatever dark magic he had stored in all that goth-ness.
You tossed a blueberry at Clarisse when she walked past and tried to bash you over the head. 
She wasn’t allowed to ruin your new hat.
You turned to see her flicking the blueberry over at someone else, and your eyes flicked past that too. Now way. You stood up, but you’d lost sight of the mess of dark hair when the Hermes cabin barrelled past.
You clambered onto your seat and stood up there. “Oi! Victorian ghost hat boy!”
The dining pavilion went quiet pretty quickly, and everyone turned to the cute guy with a skeleton hoodie and wide eyes. He pointed at himself when you pointed at him, and then went pink. 
Clarisse stuck her arm out so you didn’t faceplant when you jumped down from your seat, and you held onto your new hat as you traipsed across the cracked floor. 
You’d never figured out how that crack had got there. But there were bigger mysteries. 
Like this cute goth. 
His face just pinker when you grabbed his sleeve and tried to tug him out of the entire camp’s curious eyes. A dark skinned girl with a lot of butterfly clips and a Steven Universe t-shirt sent a thumbs up in your direction. 
It was only when you were standing by the low burning fire pit in a patch of daisies did you realize you hadn’t really planned far enough ahead. 
You took off the cat-ear hat and looked down at it. “...Uhm…”
“Sorry,” the goth said quickly, and when you made eye contact he looked away even quicker. “It’s creepy. Boundaries and stuff, I just… saw your gloves.” 
“It’s not creepy,” you argued, putting the hat back on with a grin. He was really cute when he blushed. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, and I have no idea who you are but your eyeliner is really really great and… Holy Hades if you smile like that again can I… please kiss you?”
The goth with no name stared at you, and then nodded about ten times too many. “Yes please. But, uh.. If you’re gonna kiss me, please, maybe don’t get my dad involved.”
“...Wut?”
»»————- ★ ————-««
Nico could feel his cheeks growing hotter.
Not because of the sun, specifically, but it was hot and bright in the woods. He’d worn sunscreen though. And forced you to put it on too, once he’d found watermelon scented sunscreen, because you refused to smell gross no matter how sunburnt you would get anyways. 
His face was hot and red because of you. 
You, who was stupidly perfect and also possibly kind of Nico’s stupidly perfect boyfriend. 
“Psst, Victorian ghost boy,” you said with a sing-song voice, quietly, and waved your hand in front of his eyes with your pink, blue, and white painted nails. He blinked. You smiled. “You zoned out again.”
“Sorry,” Nico said, and pulled a daisy out of the ground. He handed it over. “I was thinking about you.”
He hadn’t realized the effect that saying that would have on you, but it was worth it when you opened and closed your mouth like one of the frogs you kept as pets. 
“I.. well, what were you thinking about?”
Nico had played his cards right. He smirked, and you shuffled forwards on the checked picnic blanket Piper had stolen from Drew, who’d probably nicked it from poor unsuspecting Demeter or Iris kid. You knocked over the basket of strawberries too, and then took your bucket hat off and stuffed it in your lap with a grin.
He tilted his head down. You were both following a very well rehearsed script. “...Kissing you?”
You launched yourself forwards then with a laugh, your cat-paw gloved hands landing on either side of his waist and probably squishing some of those strawberries at the same time. 
The sun reflected in your eyes and Nico held the sides of your face as he pressed his lips to yours. 
You kissed back, and once you both stopped smiling widely, you could kiss back. 
Properly. 
He scratched his fingernails, the ones you’d painted rainbow that afternoon after catching more frogs and complaining about sunscreen, along your jaw when you bit down on his bottom lip.
Not as a complaint, certainly not, and you knew that too because you just sat back on your knees between Nico’s lap and tilted your head to fit deeper against Nico’s bruised lips. 
The ones that hadn’t had a single day off since you jumped up in the middle of breakfast with your gluten free waffles you hadn’t realized were gluten free until he had explained it to you later. 
It was intensely crazily unbearably romantic but it also meant whatever cold one of you managed to catch, the other would come down with only minutes later. 
And Nico felt like that smug little cat from Julie Manet’s Auguste Renoir.  
»»————- ★ ————-««
19 notes · View notes
luvliewriting · 1 year
Note
Could you write a Josh Washington x reader where reader likes to do trippy paintings and they made one that reminds them of Josh and were making it for him but he found it 💖💖
Please and thank you? 🦇💘
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A Paint Stroke For My Heart
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Pairing: Josh Washington x GN!Reader
Warnings: slight hallucinations, mental health, but mainly fluff
Note: this is in the year between Hannah and Beth's disappearance and the night I did my best to respresent the grief Josh was going through along with his schizophrenia by using my own boyfriend's experiences to the best of my ability. If how I wrote this is harmful or inaccurate at all, please tell me and I will do my best to correct it or just take it down in general.
If you are having any issues with schizophrenia or any other mental illness; my inbox or dms are always open :)
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Gifts weren't something that Josh usually found coming back at him, he usually had to give first to get anything in return. No one ever just gave him something just to give him something, there always had to be this extra layer to it. When he was younger he was used to the piles of birthday/christmas gifts he would get along with his sisters; but the older they all got, the less and less their parents seemed to care to go above and beyond. Probably didn't help that they were always busy, the Washington children usually sharing the large home alone most days except on weekends when their dad would get off work but he would just tuck himself away to his office, still busy like a bee.
Maybe Josh missed when he was younger, playing baseball with his dad and Beth. Hannah and his mom always watching from the side and cheering him on when he would hit the ball and run from Beth to get to the base. Usually ending him getting tackled down to the ground by his younger sister as Beth would always mock him, saying how much stronger she was then him. But he never complained, he liked seeing his sister be so proud of herself for tackling down her brother.
Of course now, he didn't have that company through the week. He was a college drop out that just spent his time at home everyday, a large home yet so alone. His sisters weren't coming back, Chris spent all his time with Ashley, the only people that ever really visited were Sam and well you. You visited more than Sam, you spent more nights over with him than anything, making sure he didn't stay alone since he didn't trust himself to be alone. He was fragile, he couldn't deny that, and being alone in that giant home definitely didn't help in his favour of hating being alone.
On the occasion he would pass Hannah's or Beth's rooms, which was rare, he found himself just staring into the room. Memories of his sisters' smiling faces and laughs after they would pull a prank on him or overhearing the two gossiping in Hannah's room with Sam and you. It was worse when he found one of Hannah's spare change of glasses on the bedside table and he picked them up, just a flood coming back to him that he couldn't stop making him collapse to the ground and cry.
"I never wanted you to die."
He forgot how many times he's said that same sentence over and over to himself. Sometimes to his hallucinations of his sisters, who constantly blamed them for their disappearance/death. He wanted to crawl up in a ball and ignore the fact that he existed, no amount of drugs could help himself.
"Hey Josh can you hand me the blue?" Josh's attention left the corner of the room where a painting of his sisters was on the wall towards you where you sat at the kitchen table. Multiple different paints around you and a canvas in the middle. He looked over at the bottom of the table where the little cup of blue paint was. He nodded kneeling down to grab the blue for you.
Before he could peak at your painting, you covered his view from the canvas, shaking your head, "It's a surprise, be patient." Josh nodded sitting down at the kitchen table with you, slumping his face into his crossed arms like a pillow as he glanced over at you. You looked at him, a small smile on your lips, "are you okay?"
He shook his head, he never was okay. Even if he wanted to be okay, he knew he wasn't. Dr Hill didn't help, his parents barely acknowledged him, someone who was supposed to be his bestfriend only wanted to hang out with his crush, you were truly all he had.
You felt his palm against the back of your hand, stopping your brush strokes as you looked over at him, watching him raise your hand up to his lips and feeling him leave a soft kiss to the back of your hand and continuing to hold it close to him. You smiled softly at him, rubbing his hand with your thumb as you whispered, "did you take your medication today?"
"Yeah," Josh's face was covered by his arms as he nuzzled his face away and grumbled, "not that they help."
"Hey," he felt your comforting hand on his head as he peaked up at you from his enclosed arms, "you don't have to suffer through this alone, you know I'm here and you're never alone, I'll never leave you alone."
He shrugged to himself, covering his face back into his arms. Sure hiding away was bad and didn't make the voices go away, but at least he didn't have to see them with their constant reminder of how much of a failure of a brother he was that night. Even if you tried to tell him as much as you could, he always knew that he was right; he was truly one huge failure.
"You wanna see it?" Josh peaked his eye out once more over to you, holding the painting to your ches with a cheeky smile on your lips.
He only nodded, still deep in his grief, as you turned the painting around to face him. His eyes blinked at the canvas trying to look it over and understand.
It looked like him, in the corner of the canvas with a skull beside him with eyes and all other kinds of things that he liked. Cameras, novels, all kind of things that he usually hid from people that were his interests. Josh's smile was small but definitely still there as he looked over the trippy painting, you made it for him. It was for him, it was confusing. Did you want somehting in return for this? Most people usually did when they gave him stuff but as he looked into your genuine eyes, he knew that you did this out of the kindness of your heart.
All he did was smile, his index finger stroking the painting feeling the dry paint strokes against his finger. His eyes were fixated on it, something that was actually his without consquence. It was his. This painting was his. You were his.
"You like it?" you asked softly, leaned down on your arms and trying to look into Josh's eyes as his eyes met yours.
"I love it," Josh smiled, a genuine one, not his fake one he usually put on for people so they would stop giving him those stupid pity looks. He hated hearing "sorry" or having to look into someone's face and just seeing the pity. He didn't want it. He wanted his sisters back. All he had was you now, even if that was enough for him, he still missed Hannah and Beth more than anything. And he would always miss them, he understood that even though it was hard.
You truly were his saving grace. Something as simple as watching you paint made his heart swell. You truly were found a way to turn his cold black heart into just a little bit of a rainbow by being there.
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Thank you for reading, please like and please reblog as it really does help me out <3
Taglist: @margowritesthings
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158 notes · View notes
the-cult-of-russo · 1 year
Text
Merry Christmas, Bunny
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Pairing: Reader/Billy Russo
Warnings: Angst, cursing, death.
A/N: My first Billy thing in a long ass time and of course I come back with the angst, I’m super rusty writing for Billy but this came to me and I love my lil angry boy lmaooooo
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Your eyes blinked slowly, blood running cold as you looked at the mess before you. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled, red and green as if they didn’t have specks of blood all over them. Silent Night played softly in the background. It somehow felt fitting for the devastation in front of you. The living room was decorated but not only with Christmas decorations. Blood painted the room, staining every surface available. You felt like you could taste the copper tang in the air. Your dad was on the floor near the TV, on his front and sprawled out. A pool of blood spilled out from under him, a bullet hole in his head. Your mom was halfway in the kitchen and the living room. A broken plate and cookies scattered around her lifeless body and covered in her blood. And the bodies of your three brothers were around the tree. The puddle of blood from the three of them combined and seeped into the carpet. Your hands clenched and unclenched as you looked at them, an ice-cold feeling settling into your chest as you tried to make sense of your emotions. 
You had a strained relationship with your family. Your parents ended up having four children but decided they weren't supposed to be parents. They'd put all of you in foster care. You always held out hope for a happy ending with your parents. No one else wanted you and while you were in the group home, they'd come to visit you. Tell you it was for your own good that they put you there. That they couldn't care for you like you and your other siblings needed. They just weren't kid people. They'd tell you how one day you'd be able to come back and things would be good again. Once you were older, they'd be able to be there for you. And you'd clung to that hope. Even when they stopped visiting as often. Even when your brothers and sisters who were also in the group home ended up being adopted and you were left behind. No one wanted you. The weird quiet girl who didn't play well with others. The one who had a penchant for setting things on fire or stealing. So you’d been left behind. Once you aged out of the system, you hoped things would be better. But when you turned up to the place you once called home, your family no longer lived there. It took years to track them down. They were still in New York and eventually you found them. A friend had helped you track them down. They'd been shocked to see you but bridges had been burnt. The people that put you and your siblings in foster care because they ‘couldn't deal with children’ now had three other kids. Your brothers were 3, 5 and 7, and were now lying dead in front of their Christmas presents. You’d been hurt to see them as such a happy family when they didn't want you or your other brothers and sisters, but they'd tried to make excuses. You couldn't shake that bitterness though. The one that gripped you tight every time you thought of all those lonely nights at the group home with no one to care for you. And here they were with your youngest brothers, happy as can be. That white picket fence life you’d always dreamed of. You'd visit on special occasions, trying to quell the hurt inside of you every time you did. But despite everything they'd done to you, how much they devastated you beyond repair, you hadn't wished them dead. And now they were dead. Gone. No coming back. And you didn't know how to feel about it.
Your eyes drifted to the note, crudely scrawled on a ripped piece of paper that was tacked to the wall.
‘Merry fucking Christmas, Bunny.’
You’d recognize that handwriting anywhere, and the nickname was a dead giveaway. You felt a lot of confusing things, but most of all, you were angry. Because there had always been a part of you that hoped things would one day get better with them. The deep need to be loved by them clawing at your skin. And you’d never know if you'd get that now. You'd never know how it would have played out because they were dead. He’d killed them. You didn't even know he was out and about. The last you’d heard, he was laid up in hospital and in very deep trouble. But he was out now. On a rampage and seemingly unhinged. It was worlds away from the boy you knew at the group home. The only friend you'd had. But you knew he’d changed a long time ago. He’d turned into someone you had no interest in being around and you hadn't had contact with him in a while. Which is why you were confused why he'd do this. It was spiteful, knowing how much this would hurt you. And it worried you that he'd target you now he was out once again and a little less sane than the last time you saw him.
When you left the group home, you’d stayed in touch. He’d left first, being a little older than you and then off he went to the marines. You were the one writing him letters, sending him care packages. He was family to you. But then after he came back for the last time, he was different. And one drunken night he revealed what part he played in the Castles massacre. And you were mortified. You knew he saw those people as family. You’d met them a few times yourself. To know he could do that to people he cared deeply for, to his own brother, it scared you. You’d given him an ultimatum the morning after. He needed to come clean and turn himself in, or you were done with him. You were hoping given how close you were that he’d listen to you. You were wrong. He turned cold, telling you to keep your mouth shut or you'd be next. After that, you didn't see him again. Billy Russo scared the shit out of you. And that was before Frank came back and beat the shit out of him and ruined his face and mind. You weren't sure what to do. Part of you wanted to confront him, to figure out why he did this. But you weren't sure if you'd be joining your family in the afterlife if you did. There had always been a pull to Billy. You’d both been broken in the system and you gravitated towards each other. He was the only one to notice you existed. You'd formed a bond you'd once thought unbreakable but it had all been a lie. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing and you'd fallen for it. Yet even now, there was a tug pulling at you to seek him out. To try and see why he did this. To try and stop him before he wound up dead. 
You gave your family one last look before hurrying out of the house and getting in your car. You weren't sure where to look. Where to go. You found anger swirling around inside of you for what he did. He took your family away. And sure it had been broken and stupid but they were still your family. And he knew how important they were to you. So it hurt. It hurt so deeply that someone you once cared for did this to you. But you weren't sure why you were surprised after what he did to the Castle family. This was why you’d been scared. Why you hadn't tried to keep in touch with him after your ultimatum. Because if he could do that to Frank, he could do that to you. And now he had. He’d taken your family away from you. And now you were truly alone. No mom, no dad, no brothers and sisters and no Billy. It was just you. And you hated him for doing this to you. Your hands flexed around the steering wheel and you tried to take a shaky breath. Before you knew it, you were driving on autopilot. That tug inside of you making you pull into the cemetery. Your hands trembled slightly as you looked around, and you saw him them. Standing near the graves of the Castle family was a figure in a black hoodie with the hood up. You knew it was him. With a shaky hand, you reached into the glove box and grabbed your handgun. You’d never been a gun person before, but back before Billy went off the deep end, he’d insisted you got one for protection. He’d even shown you how to use it. You slipped it into the waistband of your jeans, concealed by your jacket before you got out of the car. When you slammed it shut, the figure turned towards you. He was wearing a weird white mask. Black cracks and holes painted on it. You felt your stomach clench uncertainly, your heart picking up as you slowly made your way towards him. 
He looked terrifying with the mask, his dark eyes peeking out of the eye holes and staring at you intently. His body was held tightly, standing rigidly in place and unmoving like a statue. You felt sick. You stopped a few feet away from him, unsure of how he’d react to seeing you here. Would this be how you die? At the hands of someone you once considered family?
“Hello, Bunny,” he sounded amused almost and it only set you more one edge. You opened your mouth but it floundered for a moment, not knowing what to say.
“Why? Why did you do it?” you asked, your voice laced with pain as your glassy eyes stared him down. He chuckled, shaking his head for a moment before he tilted it and looked at you once more. His almost black eyes were piercing as they pinned you in place.
“You know why,” he replied lowly. You blinked at him, a frown gracing your face.
“Is this some kind of punishment? Because I told you to turn yourself in?” you asked confused, hurt colouring your face. He was quiet for a long moment and your brain wouldn't let you forget the gun that was tucked away in your waistband. He slowly slid the hood off his head, before lifting the mask up. Finally, you saw him, for the first time in a long while. He had deep and painful looking scars all over his face and you swallowed thickly. It hurt seeing him this way. Seeing the lost and unhinged look in his eyes. But deep down you knew he’d deserved this. Deserved what Frank did to him after what he’d done to his family. He took a step closer and you took one back. Hurt flashed on his face before he chuckled darkly. 
“I really thought you were smarter than that, Bunny,” he murmured with a frown. An almost patronizing look on his face. As your face scrunched up in even more confusion, he took a step closer and you tensed but didn't move.
“I did this for you,” he said firmly, his deep and dark eyes feeling like they were penetrating you.
“You killed my only family… for me?” you asked quietly, a mere whisper in the wind as you looked at him incredulously. How far gone was he? He shook his head, face contorting in anger and your heart faltered for a moment. 
“Your family? Family? He asked with a snarl, he turned away, pacing a little as he tossed his mask to the floor and ran his hands through his short hair.
“They shoved you in a group home so they didn't have to deal with a bunch of kids. And then they decided to play happy families without you. They didn't love you. Never did. That's not family, Y/N. I’m family,” he spat angrily. A wave of rage swept through you. Despite the words being mostly true, it sent a spark of defensiveness through your entire being.
“You’re family? You left! You wouldn't do the right thing and then you threatened me, Billy! How is that family? Ad now you killed them. I have no one left!” you yelled, voice cracking as the lump in your throat expanded. 
A pained looked crossed his face, his head tilting at you once more, his eyes shiny and damp.
“I pushed you away to keep you safe! You needed to be far away from me or you'd wind up dead. And now… now I see things clearer. And you needed to lose your family ‘cause they were suckin’ the soul outta you. You’d never be able to move on from what they did while they were still around,” he muttered empathically. You felt far too much to make sense of, not knowing if you should trust his words about keeping you safe. Maybe it was true given all he’d gotten himself wrapped up in, but he could have just told you that. And now this new insane version of Billy thought it was excusable to kill your family like he was doing you a favour. You felt your chest constrict as you turned, ready to walk away, unsure of anything or the man before you. But he gripped your wrist in a vice-like grip, making you yelp as he turned you back around and pulled you closer to him.
“Don’t you walk away from me,” he growled, eyes flashing with anger and hurt. Your stomach was doing somersaults and not in a good way as you blinked up at him teary-eyed.
“Let me go,” you pleaded in a whisper. You didn't trust him. Couldn't anymore. You didn't want him to hurt you.
“You're not goin’ anywhere until you listen to me!” he bellowed, making you shrink under him as he still held your wrist. He saw your scared face and he blinked at you for a long moment. His grip on you relaxed a little but he didn't let go and he tried to school his face into a mask of indifference. 
“Just listen to me,” he murmured, his eyes imploring.
“Please let me just go. I don't want you to hurt me,” you sniffled, your heart clenching at what he’d turned into. He looked shocked at your words before a pained frown etched onto his features.
“Hurt you? I’d never hurt you,” he implored.
“You already have,” you replied painfully, voice wobbling as your tears threatened to break free. He took a large shaky breath, eyes flitting all over the place like his head was suddenly full and overwhelming. 
“No. No, no, no. I didn’t... I did it for you. I did it to help you. To get back at them for what they did,” he rambled quickly, looking like a lost boy.
“Billy, stop! You're not you right now. Just please let me go!” you pleaded with him. He snarled then, yanking you closer and jostling you about. You whimpered, looking at his angry and sad face. 
“I’m not me? Why? ‘Cause my face is messed up? ‘Cause I look like a monster?!” he growled angrily. 
Memories flooded your brain of the boy you once knew. When he taught you to ride a bike. The time you both set a fire in the small garden of the group home and he took the fall for it so you wouldn't get in trouble. When he stole you a chocolate bar because you were sick. How every birthday he’d buy you a stuffed bunny, adding to your collection. The boy that was broken and beaten down but had a heart of gold for you. The one who cared for you when no one else did. He didn't mesh with the man before you. The man who had killed people he cared about, devasted the life of someone he considered his brother, had killed your family and tried to justify it to say he did it for you. You knew he’d killed others. You knew these weren't the only people who died by his hand. 
“You don't look like a monster, Billy. But how you're acting right now… you're acting like one,” you lamented. His hand dropped you as if you'd burnt him then and he took a few steps back. His hands rubbed at his short hair, shaking his head as he looked confused and angry. 
“You… You have no idea. No idea what I’ve done for you. No idea what I had to do to keep you safe!” he yelled angrily, his eyes glaring at you. He took quick strides towards you then and you stumbled backwards, hand moving the grab your gun as your brain took over with the fear. When he saw the gun, he looked like someone smacked him. The look he shot you was one of pure betrayal. You weren't pointing it at him. Just holding it by your side as if showing him you were prepared if he tried anything. 
“You really brought a gun?” he asked, his voice eerily calm considering his very emotional face.
“To protect myself,” you uttered carefully. He laughed, but it wasn't pleasant. It was bitter and cold.
“To protect yourself from me?” he asked bitterly. You didn't reply, your hand shaking with the gun as you watched him carefully. 
“I did what I had to do and I did it for you. And now you're here, with a goddamn gun, like you need to be scared of me?!” He accused. You could hear the pain in his voice.
“You killed my family, Billy. I wasn't sure if I was next,” you replied tensely. He scoffed, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.
“I killed ‘em ‘cause they didn't deserve you. They hurt you and you had to let go of that stupid fantasy that things would be alright one day. I was doing you a favor!” he hissed. Your head felt a scrambled mess. The grief you felt for your family cut you to your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't completely wrong. In some warped way, part of you understood why he did what he did. When he was the one to pick up the pieces every time they’d come and spoon-feed you bullshit about happy ever afters. He was the one to help you track them down after you turned up to his apartment in tears that they'd left without telling you. His shoulder was the one you'd cried on when you found out they had a new family that didn't include you. 
So inside your own head, you didn't notice him creep closer. And then he was gripping your jaw, making you look at him. You blinked up at him, his dark eyes darting all over your face.
“I know it might hurt right now, but I know… deep inside of you, you feel relieved that they're gone. You're glad I did what I did,” he murmured knowingly, staring at you with such intensity you felt like you couldn't breathe. And shame crept into your bones as a little voice in your head agreed with him. And you hated it. 
“You got no idea what I did for you. What I sacrificed to keep you safe,” he muttered, a deep frown on his face.
“Then tell me. Because so far, all I know is that you killed my family,” you murmured, heart going a mile a minute as he still had hold of you. He stared at you for a long moment, raking his teeth over his lower lip. He looked deep in thought, a faraway look in his eyes. 
“It was you or them,” he replied after a long moment. There was no inflexion in his voice and your brows furrowed in confusion.
“Me or who?” you asked warily. He clenched his jaw, hand slipping from your face. He shook his head in an irritated way, rolling his shoulder before he looked at you once more. 
“The Castles,” he stated, his voice devoid of any emotion as his dark orbs pinned you in place. You looked at him dumbly for a moment as his words sunk into your head. 
“What…” you trailed off, a sick feeling churning in your stomach. 
“Rawlins told me… if I didn't help him with this, then it’d be you. And… and I loved ‘em. Maria… the kids… Frank… But… But I couldn't lose you. I-I couldn't. And I did what I did to keep you safe. So you can stand there and tell me I’m a monster all you want, but I did it for you and I’d do it again if I had to,” he said firmly, voice quivering as a lone tear rolled down his scarred cheek. 
You felt like someone chucked ice-cold water all over you. They were dead because of you. A nice and happy family, ripped apart because he picked you instead. You couldn't make sense of it in your head. That such a brutal act had been done for your sake. Much like your own family. You felt like poison to everyone around you. You felt the heavy weight of guilt pressing on you like a boulder.
"You should have picked them," you seethed, eyes raging with all of the guilt and shame you felt. A million and one things flashed across Billy's face at your words and he opened his mouth to retort. But it promptly snapped shut as he looked away, sucking in his cheeks a little as he clenched his jaw. After a small moment, he looked back at you. And the myriad of emotions that had just been on his face were gone. Replaced by a cold mask of indifference than unsettled you.
"Maybe I should have," he replied. Disappointment laced his tone and you weren't sure why his words hurt so much. You were the one to say it first. If it wasn't for you, the Castles would have had a happy and long life. The kids would have graduated, gone to college, had good jobs, had kids of their own. And it was all gone because of you. Yet Billy's words stung deeply. 
He picked up his mask, slipping it back on and you watched him, feeling like someone was pressing on your chest as he started to walk away. He stopped after a few steps, turning back to you.
“I gave up… so much for you. Because I love you. But now I get it. You're just like everyone else. You never really gave a damn about me.” he scoffed, shaking his head. You wanted to reply, to argue with him. Tell him you did care. The whole thing was overwhelming. He was clearly off his rocker and on top of that, you’d just found out an entire family got gunned down just so you could live. You didn’t know what to feel or think and your head was all upside down. So you didn't say anything at all. You watched him leave the cemetery, a pit in your stomach as you tried to digest everything that had happened. The guilt wrapped around you like an uncomfortably tight blanket and you felt you might get smothered. What were you supposed to do with that information? Where were you supposed to go now all your family was dead and you had no one? Nothing made sense anymore. You’d come here looking for answers from Billy and you only ended up with a sick feeling in your stomach and more questions than answers. You knew how much he cared about Frank and his family. You knew what he’d given up just so you could still be here, and it made you feel lightheaded. You wished you’d have said something. Told him you did care. That you loved him too and he’d always been family to you. But he’d done things you weren't okay with. He wasn't thinking right and if you were honest, he hadn't been in a very long time. There was no reasoning with this Billy. The one who thought killing your family was a gift to you. The Billy you knew was long gone and you felt grief tug at you at the memories of him. 
You wondered if you should tell Frank. Would he understand a bit more knowing just why Billy had done what he’d done? Would it be enough to stop him from going after him again? Would Frank want blood from you because of it? Maybe you deserved it. Maybe you should just go to him and seek your penance for being the cause of the death of his family. You knew Curtis would know where to find him. The guilt was killing you. You left the cemetery with a heavy heart and a rapidly beating heart. You didn't know what would await you when you saw Frank, but you’d take any punishment he saw fit after what you’d done. Since you’d stop talking to Billy, every time you thought of him it was tainted by knowing what he’d done. Thinking he was a monster now. A murderer. But he’d done it all for you. You’d turned him into the monster he was now and you had to face the consequences of that. 
Taglist:
(If you asked to be added but aren't here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people for some reason)
@kestrafagnor @eliwinchester-barnes @bisexualbilly @oeuryale @sam-hollandsgirl @xceafh @traditional-morrigan13 @juniebugg @xonickibaby @lillianastras @aleksanderwh0r3 @i-g-n-o-r-e--m-e @itsallaboutkey @papiazullll8 @not-too-tall-for-trick @kaleidoscopegirl @voyevoda-thejoy @s-corpionem @blanchedelioncourt @elleatrixlestrange @strawb3rrydr3ss @odetostep @crowssixof @katedrexel @primadonnasdream @fortheloveofallthatsholy​ @supernaturalcat7​
@honeyshores @tanyaherondale @acourtofsnakes @weallhaveadestiny @tomhollandisabae @carnationworld @nemesis729 @advictedtohim @lady4punk @thesandbeneathmytoes @kassandra-of-troy @blackbirddaredevil23 @nebulastarr @ilkaeliseb @runawayolives
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rrcenic · 7 months
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okay so rant time. there are so many moments filled with shame as an adhd person. i often lose energy or motivation, especially when cleaning, so i tend to take advantage of the manic bursts i get to clean as much of my room as possible. this leaves clean open areas, but also piles of random trinkets, clothes, boxes, and empty bags in the corners and crevices of my room.
and i mean. of COURSE i haven’t been cleaning enough. on top of the ADHD, ive had a summer with lots of amazing traveling and lots of awful short mental health scares. i’ve been pretty damn tired.
i try so so hard to keep it neat and open but i do fail. a lot. and i rarely get recognition for when i do succeed (we hadn’t changed the sheets on my bed for over a month. my parents usually remind me to change them or do it for me. i assumed they wanted me to do it myself. so i changed them all yesterday and brought them down and all i got was my mom stripping the new blankets off my bed because that’s my aunts blanket that she keeps here and what was i thinking to not just ask for help changing the sheets. i’m 14. i thought the point was that i should be doing it myself.)
my family has like 4 house phones. not super fancy, no screen or anything, but before i got my cell phone, they were what i used to call my cousin or my friends.
two of them were missing. my dad, who had a LOT of control issues (he banned paint from our house for several years because of small spills, he gets angry and aggressive when we put the silverware on the wrong side of the plates, he likes legos and for years wouldn’t let us touch them or play with them because we’d “destroy them”, etc.) and yet has never gone to any therapy (my mother, sister, and i all do, he has the resources to do so, he himself is a doctor and is an advocate for mental health, but he gets triggered and defensive when we ask him to seek any help of his own), came upstairs to shout at my sister and i to find them
now, here’s the thing. i was pretty sure they were in my room, so i started digging through my corners. however, im currently in awful pain from my period cramps, and was quickly distracted by pain and some things i found while cleaning. eventually, i looked through and didn’t see them.
i tell my dad. he says to keep looking. i ask him for help.
he comes upstairs and immediately pushes my bed away from the wall, rips my blankets up, digs through the cracks, and throws wrappers and paper and tissues at me. the floor id just managed to clean yesterday was a mess again. it’s stuffy and overstimulating. he makes me dig through every pile, even after he finds the phones and chides me for missing them.
it’s now a total mess. my floor is covered in random shit and my desk has been swept to the ground. and my dad leaves.
i’ve been spending the last 45 minutes panicking and sorting way too much stuff for my brain to handle.
rooms pretty clean now. it��s kinda nice. but it would have been so much better with help and kindness instead of shame for my inability to keep things clean. i already get so mad at myself for it and it’s so awful when others make it worse.
anyways i’m so sorry for the rant just not feeling great and needed to get it out.
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reverie-tales · 2 years
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Even Then
Summary: Post ACOFAS. Feyre finishes painting a portrait and contemplates what could have been.
Notes:
This may include text from ACOTAR by SJM.
725 words.
Fluff.
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The last streaks of light that seeped through the nearby open windows were fleeting. Outside, the red and orange hues of twilight colored the sky. I was alone at the studio, Ressina and the children having left for the day hours before. I had just applied the finishing touches to the painting that sat in front of me and set my brush and palette down. The painting was a portrait of Nesta, Elain, and I huddled together as humans, and it seemed like a lifetime ago. I waved a hand, lighting the studio to chase away the darkness, tidied up the space, and studied the portrait once more as I left it to dry.
Sentimentality struck me out of the blue. Life back then was hard. We were poor and starving, yet our life was simple. I couldn't help but wonder what could have been. Of course, I loved our life as it was now. I would never trade Rhys, our family, and our life in Velaris for the world, and I would go under the mountain again and again to save them, but I let my mind wander to a time when my sisters and I were humans. I wonder what could have been if I had never killed Andras, if Tamlin had not taken me and I had never fallen for him. If Amarantha had not tricked the High Lords, stolen their powers, and terrorized Prythian for decades, I could have met a free Rhysand as a human outside of Prythian if fate was kind and we were given the chance. I could have almost seen what would have happened.
I was in the woods hunting for our next meal when I heard the rustling of leaves. A stranger stepped out into the clearing, radiating sensual grace and ease. His short black hair gleamed like a raven's feathers. He had tan skin, pointed ears, and blue eyes so deep they were violet. Fae. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he beheld me. "Hello Feyre, darling," he said. 
The image disappeared, and I blinked as the world returned.
"Rhys," I said, standing up from the stool and turning to face him where I knew he stood from our bond. He was leaning into the studio's open doorway with a smile on his face. "You snuck up on me," l added.
"My paint-covered love," he said, walking towards me. "You were deep in thought and your walls were down. I couldn't help it. "
"I can't believe you didn't let me see anything scandalous," I said in a mocking tone as I slid my arms around his waist.
"I almost did, but I didn't want you slamming into your new painting accidentally. We don't want a reoccurrence of what happened the last time, do we, Feyre?" he said, laughingly.
"Prick," l said, slapping his chest.
"It's beautiful, by the way," he said, brushing a kiss on my temple. "And I would have come to find you and helped you and your family get away from that dilapidated cottage, you know, no matter how stubborn you would have been at first."
"Thank you and I know," I said, smiling at him.
"I would have courted you and asked your father for your hand in marriage if that's what you wanted. I might have even brought Cassian and Azriel to help chaperone our dates with Nesta and Elain."
I snorted. "That would have been entertaining to watch," I said, turning my head to the side to look back at the painting.
"I bet," he said.
"Nesta and Cassian would have endlessly bickered and Elain would have clung to Azriel for some peace and quiet," l said, leaning into him and his citrus and sea scent.
"Hmm."
"What is it?" I asked, looking up at him and placing a hand on his cheek.
"I would have loved you even then as I love you now," he said, violet eyes sparkling and silver lined as he looked down at me and pulled me in closer.
"Rhys," I said, tearing up. "I love you. I would have loved you too, even then. "
"And I would have brought you home," he whispered to my lips.
"So bring me home," I whispered back.
So Rhys did, crashing his lips against mine as he winnowed us away into our bedroom and vanished our clothes.
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***Fades into black****Sorry about that***
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.Masterlist
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If you reached this far, thank you for reading! 💛
@the-lonelybarricade "one more" 😊💛
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nancypullen · 1 year
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Thursday
I’m trying to convince myself to paint the powder room vanity. I have everything I need, and it’s a small vanity and probably won’t take much time at all. I just can’t seem to get motivated.  I purchased paint from Heirloom Traditions.  It’s supposed to be amazing so I hope it lives up to the hype. You can check it out here: https://www.allinonepaint.com/ They’re always offering free sample pots, all you pay is the $6.99 shipping.  My vanity is small enough that one sample pot should do the trick. Most folks are painting dressers or kitchen cabinets, but my little job will be inexpensive and hopefully quick. The previous owner of this house apparently had a nautical theme in the powder room.  That’s fine, to each their own, but she glued everything in place. She had glued sea shells to the mirror, and worse, there was rope glued all the way around the ceiling. I was able to get the shells off the mirror and scrape it clean, but when the painters pulled that rope down (it was basically cemented on) it tore up the dry wall and made the whole room look shabby and awful.  I don’t need that little bathroom to be HGTV worthy, but it looked really bad.  That is why I was so thrilled when Mickey started sending me photos of his work while I was down in Florida. This is what it looked like at the top of every wall.
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And this is what it looks like now, thanks to my hand dandy husband.
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Those vent covers went back in, there are no gaping holes. Drywall addressed, trim added, ceiling painted...my hero!
He also removed the contractor grade mirror...
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and touched up that wall.
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No, there’s not an abnormality in the wall. There’s something about the lighting and the way it throws shadows.  It’s fine.  Just between you and me I plan to change that light fixture anyway. That faucet s coming out too. I have a couple of floral/bee pictures that I printed for this room. I’ve got my auction mirror as well. I’m heading in this direction.
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None of those colors are exact, that’s just me playing with ideas.  But that’s the neighborhood we’ll end up in.  A cute little rug, a pretty soap bottle,and some contrasting hand towels (already have those!) and we can check another room off the list.  Hallelujah!  By the time that’s finished it’ll be gardening season.  I may have to ignore the inside of the house until fall. Speaking of things that need work, why is my hair the only project that’s never finished?  While visiting my mother I made an appointment for a hair cut.  I don’t have much faith in the hair community in Denton, so I thought I’d roll the dice in Florida. I gambled and lost. I don’t think the stylist believed me when I stressed that my hair is like a gremlin, once it gets wet all hell breaks loose. To her credit she listened when I said I only wanted about an inch off the ends.  The length is perfect.  But she tried to give me “face framing layers” and cut my hair like straight hair. You can’t do that.  There’s a process to cutting layers into my hair and it usually involves a Ouija board and a goat sacrifice. What is does not involve is sliding the scissors down the hair shafts to create feathery ends.  For me that’s a recipe for frizz.  It did not end well.  It took me two days to calm the beast, and of course one of those days was the big family gathering where loads of photos were taken. I’m always frozen in time with bad hair. At least I had makeup on.
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It doesn’t help that I’m growing the white out (again!). I’m so over coloring my hair.  I’m hoping that by autumn (maybe our October trip?) I’ll have enough growth to get a good trim and call it done.  I wish I’d never colored after the first grow out during lockdown.  I bought into the whole “look younger” hogwash.  How about just looking healthy?  Authentic? Comfortable?  I’m not looking for a job or a date. I. am. free.  My hair is too. This was snapped on the morning that my sister and I flew out.  When we looked at this selfie we all moaned about wrinkles, hair, etc.  
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But ya’ know what? We’re all grannies, and we’re healthy, and we’re happy. I’ll gladly take every crinkle and white hair (even those frizzy layers!) because they’re no big deal.  Gosh, people are dealing with very real, very heavy problems - who cares about aging? It’s a privilege denied to many.  I’m grateful. Now, after saying all of that - can you believe my mom is 87? She looks fantastic!  She can work circles around me in the yard too.  I hope I have a scoop of her heartiest DNA. Alright, I guess I’d better get busy in that bathroom.  I can’t finish until I start, right?  Can’t get to the fun stuff like pictures and soap bottles until I lay the foundation.  Guess I’ll turn on a murder podcast and make some progress. I hope you’re having a wonderful Thursday. If not, then treat yo’self!  A cookie, a new bottle of nail polish, a bouquet - any little treat can be a cheerful spot in a ho hum day.  You deserve it. Stay safe, stay well, be happy.
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Nancy
3 notes · View notes
peytouo · 1 year
Text
Too Smart (Ch.2)
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After a quick exchange of numbers, Cyno is now Collei's history tutor. Much Tighnari's annoyance, there's something about the dwarf that caught his attention. How pretty his eyes are. Ch. 1 | Ch. 3
Drums were echoing in the dim-lit studio and it smelled of sweat and smoke. Loud chattering from familiar voices filled the little corridor as Cyno walked in. "Eyyy! Cyno boy!" Scara twirled his drumsticks around his fingers, getting the attention of everyone else inside. Venti was in front of a mic and Xiao was busy tuning his guitar. "Did aquickie? " Scara teased with an okay sign and inserted his index finger. 
"Good to know you're feral today." He passed by Kazuha and Heizou who were playing with a cajon.  Dropping his bag on the floor and immediately headed towards a slumpy bean bag, lying down lazily. "Haa~ But I did go to his house."
"What? Immediately?!" Venti stopped his vocal warm up and turned to Cyno with glee. Xiao turned his head to his friend while still tuning his instrument. "I think that's illegal Cy."
"So it was a quickie." Scara rested his back against the wall, grinning at Cyno. "You could say that."
Keep reading"NO WAY. WITHTHE TIGHNARI?" Shock was painted all over on Venti's face and it made Cyno crack up. "Of course not." Cyno brought his arm to cover his eyes. Remembering Tighnari's breathtakingly beautiful appearance. His hair, lips, figure, eyes? Everything. Cyno finds it perfect.
"He's fantasizing."
"Bet."
Heizou and Kazuha commented from the other side of the studio, hopping their merry way to fawn over the star of the night. "I bumped into his little sister on the way here. She insisted I come over to her house for snacks. That's it."  His friends gathered around him like a camping activity, listening to his story. "Aaaand?" Venti tilted his head, still fixed on Cyno. "And I got his sister's number." Venti facepalmed hard enough to leave a mark. "Aren't you supposed to get thebrother's number?" Xiao's eyes were twitchy.
"I will soon. I get to tutor his little sister anyway." Cyno smirked at him. "So you bumped into his sister, his sister dragged you to their house, you got food, and somehow you're now giving his sister lessons?" Scara, still playing with his sticks, looks at Cyno with a brow raised. "Yep. I'll still be on time for band practice. Your main guitarist won't leave you my lil' Kuni~" Cyno teased him, puckering his lips. Scara clearly showed his disgust and Venti laughed. "Then all good! Now, let's start." Venti went on his feet and the rest of the members went to positions. Cyno got up and was ready before his phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:  Hi! It's me, Collei (o^▽^o) Thank you for saving me earlier. I will never forget it. Also, if you're serious about the history tips and all, you really don't have to but I'd greatly appreciate it  。゚(TヮT)゚。
Cyno can't believe it. His little sister wants him to come back. Realizing this would make him closer to Tighnari, Cyno replied:
Cyno:  Hi Collei. No problem. The tutor thing still stands. Just tell me when I should help you.
"Cyno! Position. NOW." Scara yelled. "Yeah yeah yeah. Chill." And it wasn't long until Collei replied.
Collei: Is tomorrow okay?  (¬‿¬ )
Cyno: Tomorrow it is.
The deal is set. Tomorrow, he gets to come back to that wonderful home where his prince resides. Cyno can't help but grin as his excitement rises. "All right. In 3... 2...-"
Half of the day had passed and Tighnari was just finishing his notes from the last physics lesson. "So did you do it?" Nilou, who's head was resting on her knuckles, grinned at him. "Maybe, maybe not." Tighnari just kept writing, not batting an eye towards Nilou. "Nariiiiii~" She flopped all over her desk. "I won't read it if you did! I just wanna knoooow." Tighnari went silent for a while, turning his focus on what he's doing. Nilou can only hear his pen scraping against his notebook. "I did." Finally dropping his pen to stretch his arms and crack his knuckles.
Nilou turned her head to face him, grinning like an idiot. "Sooo? How did you feel?" Tighnari exhaled after cracking his neck and looked back at Nilou with a straight face. "Nothing."
Nilou flailed her arms and went back to misery. "Was I supposed to feel something?" Tighnari shook his head as he rested his elbows on his desk, his fingers supporting his chin.
"Hey." Some walked around him. It was Cyno who had his hair tied up neatly. His bang covering his other eye.Come to think of it, he has beautiful red eyes. "Collei texted me last night. For the tutor?" Tighnari caught himself staring at his eye. "Uuh, sure." Was all he could say.God damn it Collei. Am I not enough?
"Then I'll go with you after classes?" Cyno smiled as he put his hands in his pockets. Tighnari only managed a nod before Cyno takes off, now exposing Nilou's dirty grin. "Whaaat was thaaaaat Nariiiii~?"
She knows Tighnari harbors all things frustrating against Cyno. He sighed and slid down his chair. "Ugh. He kinda saved Collei yesterday from an accident and she took him home as payment. Now he's her history tutor." He wanted to bang his head against his table. "Hehe. The more you hate, the more you love Nari."
That quote sent shivers down his spine. God fuck. No. Nilou was laughing at his misery. People do want to see him suffer this way don't they. "It's the last year, Nari. Maybe you can be friends with him. To make it more, worth remembering."
"It would be worth remembering if I place on top of the ranks." Tighnari can't hide his annoyance. "Why not ask him to help you in some subjects. Those you're not number 1?" Her words felt like needles piercing his strings. "I can study by my own. I just need more time and peace."
"Or try observing how he works. Maybe you can pick it up quickly and then you'll swoop the number 1 spot from him." She casually commented. Hmm, that could work. Tighnari was the type to keep notes and keywords in subjects he finds hard. "That would mean I have to see him more often." He was gritting his teeth, sinking his fingers  into his skin. For better grades. He will.
The bells rang and they day is over. Cyno hurried to Tighnari who was fixing his things. "Tell Collei I said hello." Nilou waved goodbye to Tighnari and went out together with Ayaka. Leaving him with Mr. Dwarf. "Hey, ready to go?" He let out a sigh after he zipped his messenger bag. "Yep. Let's go." And thus begins Tighnari's painful way home. Alone. With Cyno.
"Does Collei want anything? A snack?" Cyno asked as he tailed Tighnari. "Hm? You don't have to. I'll make you guys snacks."
"Then a drink. It's on me." Cyno hurried so he could match Tighnari's pace. "You really REALLY, don't have to Cyno." His brows are now getting twitchy. Cyno showed a little pout, much to Tighnari's annoyance. Then his phone buzzed.
Lil Flower 🌻 Heenloo Nii~  ( ̄▽ ̄)ノ I was hoping you could drop by and buy me a cake slice? I'm gonna be an hour late because of practice  (つω`。)
Is the world against Tighnari today? Surely. Since yesterday, his misfortune kept flowing. He turned his phone off with a heavy sigh. "Good news." He turned to Cyno with a straight face, "We're getting snacks." Cyno chuckled. "Why the sudden change of mind? Did Collei ask for one?" Oh if he could only just get violent right now. "Yes. We're dropping by the nearest cafe. She loves the chocolate slices there." Tighnari tried to keep it together, exhaled and walked.
"You're quite the dotting big brother, aren't you?"
"Is that bad?"
"No. It just looks cute."
Cute? Is Cyno hitting on him right now? "What are you onto?" Tighnari glared at him. "Nothing. Just cute." Cyno chuckled. Tighnari would've already pushed him off the streets. BUT NO.I'm a decent human. I'm a decent human. 'This is for Collei.' Tighnari kept repeating to keep himself calm.
They arrived at Puspa Cafe and fortunately, the cafe was less crowded than usual. Cyno went ahead to the cashier to order a chocolate slice. "What's yours?" He nudged Tighnari. "Uhh, Iced Americano." He somehow stuttered. "That, and a hot latte. Oh and two of that danish pastry with berries." Tighnari was gazing out the window, getting a little out of it. There's always that something that makes his mind calm whenever he's in a cafe. Especially if it was a rainy day.
"You sure you're drinking all that? Gonna pull an all-nighter?" His icy blue eyes stared at him, golden locks complimenting the color.
"No," Tighnari giggled. "I always love a good cup of black coffee. Don't you?"
"I had my fair share of black coffee. Just not on my list." He shook his head, turning away from Tighnari. "Are you gonna study literature? You've been hitting B's lately." His once warm tone turned cold in an instant.
"I- Yeah..." Tighnari can't help but frown. He's been spending a lot of time, but it still couldn't help him maintain straight A's. "Well. I shouldn't be eating much of your time. You should be studying."
"W-wait!"
"Tighnari? You okay?" Cyno's voice jolted him back to his senses. "Oh. Sorry. Let me help you." Tighnari quickly took the paper bag from Cyno who's also holding a paper bag containing their drinks. ' No time for those thoughts.' Tighnari looked forward and opened the door with Cyno following him.
They arrived at Tighnari's house shortly. Like usual, it was still empty, but Tighnari couldn't clean the whole house while having a guest. "Collei said she'll be late. She should be here in... 2 hours." He walked to the kitchen after he placed his bag down. "It'll be fine." Cyno followed him and stopped by the breakfast bar. "Here. Have a pastry." Cyno slid the wrapped pastry towards Tighnari. "You don't ha-"
"C'mon. It's my littlenice-to-meet-you gift." Cyno opened his mouth and took a bite. "If you insist." He had a bite and Puspa didn't disappoint. Everything in there is good. Too good that he had to stop Collei and himself from going there everyday. "So, Tighnari, you're the eldest?" Cyno asked him out of the blue. "Mhm." He was nibbling on his pastry. "Hmm," Cyno nodded, "And what do you do in your leisure time?" It's like an interrogation. Tighnari swallowed. "What's this, an interview?" He narrowed his eyes.
"No, no. Just that we're graduating and this is the first time we interacted." Cyno's right. Tighnari is the type to leave in a flash once the bell rings and Nilou would always bring him wherever at school as well. They are inseparable. "Fair point. I study in my leisure time." Tighnari took a napkin from the dispenser to wipe his lips and sliding the dispenser towards Cyno. "Don't you get overloaded with too much information?" Tighnari felt like this is a job interview. "Sometimes. When I do, I tend to my plants." His eyes turned to the little potted plants visible in the kitchen. "Most adorable." 
"What?" Tighnari was sure he heard it.
"It's impressive! No wonder you're the top at Biology classes." Cyno smiled at him.
"My turn to ask then."
"Shoot."
"How did you manage to excel at most of the subjects?" Tighnari realizes that he was supposed toobserve, not ask him blatantly, but screw that.
"I just do advanced readings. Memorize key words and I guess that's about it."
His answer was sweet and short. "But that's how I do it. Why can't I perfect everything?" Tighnari sounds baffled. "Maybe you're mind's overloaded. Sometimes it shuts down when you need it the most." Cyno took a sip from his latte. "Breaks are mandatory and I think you need some of it."
"I can't. Okay? I have to keep studying." Tighnari's voice is getting a little agitated. The room fell silent for a bit until Cyno broke the noise. "Why not relax with me for a bit. Hm?"
"What?" Tighnari's mind was running. ' Relax? How exactly? Is this man onto something?' Cyno went to get his bag. Tighnari's eyes are locked on him.'Is he gonna murder me?'
"Do you know Genius Invocation TCG?" Cyno was running through his belongings. 
Huh? "Yeah. Why?"
"Nice. Help me test this new deck I built." Cyno, who's eyes are glistening with joy, pulled his deck out from his bag. "We can play until Collei arrives." He smiled at him happily while Tighnari was expecting for the worse. "All right. But in return, you're gonna tell me all the details on how you study. Wait here. I'll get my deck." Tighnari sighed and went up to his room to get his deck.
As he returned, he saw Cyno near his potted plant by the window. "Oh. Sorry. I think this little guy wants the other side to get sunshine."
"Didn't your parents tell you it's bad manners to fiddle with things that don't belong to you?" Tighnari made his way back to his tool and laid his deck in front of him.
"They did. They also taught me to care for those in need." He smiled smugly and boy, does Tighnari wanna strangle him. Once Cyno had his deck ready, Tighnari held his cards, only revealing his brown and teal eyes. "Alright. One game."
Time flew quickly and Collei just got home to his brother, completely focused that he had his hair tied up. Across him was Cyno who's biting his thumb, clearly churning gears. "Uhh, you guys okay?"
"Yep." They both answered in unison, not averting their gaze. "Uh huh. Nii, did Cuilein have her treats already?"
"Shit." Tighnari jolted. "I already did when you were upstairs." Cyno was still staring at their match while his now free hand was playing with a purring Cuilein. "Oh. She likes you already~" She clasped her hands together in glee. "I'm so sorry for making you wait, Cyno-nii. I'll just go and get changed then we can begin."
"Mhm. Take your time!" He nodded. Collei rushed upstairs to changed. It was deafening silence downstairs that it made Collei worried thinking that some sort of bet could be in play. Then she heard Tighnari cheering his heart out. "2-1! I won!" Collei smiled as she heard her brother shouting his victory. Tighnari didn't had much fun like these in a long time and Collei missed this side of his.
She went downstairs and Cyno looks tired, but there's a smile painted on his face. Once his eyes saw Collei, he gestured at her to sit beside him so they could start. "I heard from your brother that you like chocolate slices so I bought you one." Cyno then turned to Tighnari who just transferred the cake slice to a plate. "Here. What do you want for dinner?" He laid down the plate in front of Collei.
"Mmm... What would you like to have for dinner, Cyno-nii?"
'WHY HIM AGAIN?'
"Hmm, pasta?" Cyno looked at Tighnari. "I guess we can do pasta. Pesto." Tighnari turned his back at the breakfast bar to start preparing for dinner. "Ughh, greens again?" Collei whined. "You need it." Her big brother replied flatly. "True. Besides, you're gonna need a lot of good brain juices for our lesson today. Show me your class outline."
For once, Tighnari was (happy) okay that Cyno sided with him on this one. Collei was hard to feed at times, but he made sure she got the proper diet. While he was busy in the kitchen, Tighnari was still able to listen to their tutor session. As much as he hates to admit it, Cyno is good with history. Heck, he's the high score Tighnari is trying to beat in class. He still kinda feels hurt that Collei didn't ask for his help, but to be rational, Cyno is the best option for this. He's clearly in his element.
"Alright. Wrap up you two. Dinner's ready." Tighnari raised his voice from the kitchen. "Mmkaay..." Collei sounded like she ran a mile. "Info overload?" Tighnari appeared, holding their plates and utensils. Collei hummed and nodded her head. "You did well. Just remember the keywords. And for the dates-"
"Remember them like birthdays..." Collei cut Cyno off with her last braincell for the day.
"Good." Cyno lightened up Collei's mood. "Brain won't work if you don't eat." Tighnari placed the bowl of pasta and pesto sauce on the table and the three of them had a simple yet lovely meal.
"Alright. I need to go. Thanks for the meal Tighnari." Cyno got up to his feet. The three of them are stuffed and cozy after a good dinner. "Thanks a ton Cyno-nii!" Collei followed Cyno to the door with Tighnari. "Of course. Tell me your score once you got it, okay?" Collei nodded happily and turned to her big brother. "I'll go clean up." And Collei went in, leaving Tighnari and Cyno alone. "Thanks again, for, you know." Tighnari shrugged towards Collei's direction. "It's alright. I enjoy tutors. Collei's a diligent girl." Cyno let his hair loose, gazing at Tighnari. "You still didn't tell me your study hacks though." Tighnari crossed his arms, his eyes finding its way to Cyno's.
"Are you also asking for a tutor session with me?"
"I'd rather get one from Layla." Cyno struck a nerve without knowing.
"Hey, her sleep walk method is useful though."
"You actually tried it?" Tighnari never believed in such stories of Layla being able to functionextremely well while sleeping. "I didn't notice you actually tried that in class."
"Were you observing me?" It was too dark for Tighnari to decipher Cyno's expression, but he is definitely smiling as if he found a secret.
But honestly, Cyno was right. Tighnari got too fixated at times due to his frustrations. Cyno wasn't spending enough time studying like him, yet his grades are consistently high. Once he thought Cyno could be hiding a cheat code.
"N-no! Why would I?" Good thing Cyno wasn't looking his way anymore, because Tighnari is a blushing mess.'Why am I flaming???' Tighnari berates himself silently.
"I'm joking." Cyno laughed. "I wouldn't mind though. If you asked for a session." He smiled at him, "I'll see you tomorrow."
Tighnari was baffled. How dare he mock him by saying he can learn from Cyno himself? Before Tighnari could react, Cyno figure got farther away from.'Great. Just. Great.'
Entry # 2
Hi. Me again. I hate today. Never in my life would I ever expect that I'd go home with the Dwarf. He annoys me to the bone. Although he did give Collei useful tips in her subjects this afternoon. I'll give him that.
But everything else from him makes me sick and irritated.
'His eyes are lovely though... Ugh. Don't even go there Tighnari.'
6 notes · View notes
kraekat29 · 2 years
Text
Chapter One
After school I went home and opened the dress, it was actually beautiful, it was a knee length green dress with black velvet roses on it, it also came with a black cardigan.
I decided to wear my combat boots instead of heels, heels would've been fun if I didn't break my ankle twenty different ways.
Soon enough I arrived at his house and JJ of course was waiting for me, I tried to put on a realistic smile but it was hard, this isn't even what I wanted.
We waited in Heyward's office for a while, " so continue about the Volturi?" I asked, continuing our conversation from school, " Well.. If you wouldn't have made it through that's where I would've gone, it's in Italy.. Vampires don't go their unless they have a death wish " he said and pointed to a painting, " is that Heyward?" I asked he nodded," he spent some time there after he was changed" he said and told me one of the stories, I shook my head and nibbled on my moon stone ring, " you gotta stop talking like that, I can't imagine anything ever happening to you " I said and he chuckled, " I can protect you from anything - except for my sister " he said as Kiara came in and pulled me away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Surprisingly the party was going pretty well and then it was time to open gifts, I appreciated each one until I got to Kiara and Pope's, I tried to open the package but the wrapping gave me a paper cut.
I watched in horror as Cleo began to crouch and her lips pulled back in a horrible snarl as she launched, only JJ was quicker, but when he shoved me he made me go flying back into the glass table.
I tried to cover my bleeding arm as they took Cleo out but JJ knew, and I could see the guilt in his eyes.
I wanted to tell him that I was fine, it was just an accident but I knew he wouldn't listen, with a sigh I followed Heyward so that way he could clean up my arm.
~*~*~*~*~*
He drove me home in silence, the entire way I felt like i'd done something wrong and when I turned to get out he caught me by my wrist and placed a gentle kiss on my lips.
I turned towards him and sighed, " you can't protect me from everything.. It's gonna be an accident, or an illness.. Old age.. You can't protect me, not while I'm still human, the only solution is to change me " I said and he shook his head, " that's not a solution, it's a tragedy " he said and I sighed, " you should probably get inside.. It's late " he said and placed a kiss on my head.
I went inside with a sigh and plugged my camera into my computer and uploaded them, printing out all of my favorites.
I printed out two versions of the one of me and JJ from tonight, I taped the first one to my wall with all my other pictures and then took the second one and folded it in half so he was visable and taped it next to my computer.
I grabbed the gauze Heyward had sent home and retaped my arm, I couldn't help but think about what he said, JJ actually thought he didn't have a soul.
With a tired sigh I climbed into my bed, I left my window cracked all night, but he never came.
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2 notes · View notes
lauralifeleaf · 2 years
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🔞Another Problem: Chapter 5
I hope you enjoy this chapter. Next Chapter will be a bit intense so be prepared.
-Laura
Violet's POV
I slowly opened my eyes as I sat up from my couch. I was sore from decorating my room after hanging out with everyone. I was covered in dirt, grime, and paint as I got up. I walked into my bathroom and started a shower as I tossed the gross clothing into the bin. I removed the accessories and stepped into the temperate shower. I began to hum one of the songs I heard while decorating last night as I began to wash my hair. Unaware that someone had let themselves in, I continued to him the song as I turned the shower off. I wrapped a towel around me as I left the bathroom. Still humming, I went through my wardrobe as Penny busted the door. "You've been busy!" I screamed at her sudden appearance. "Penny! You scared the crap out of me!" I exclaimed as I hid behind the open closet. "My bad, Sugar... why are you hiding behind your closet door?" I blushed in embarrassment, "I am trying to get dressed for the day." She smiled and walked back into the living room as I changed quickly.
I walked out with my wet hair over my clothes, "I am surprised to see you today. Is something happening that I don't know of?" "No, Vanessa called me to make sure you are working okay. She told me you had some issues pop up?" I nodded while putting up my hair as we walked out of my room, "It seems my battery runs out quickly. I also had something strange happen with me before I went into emergency rest mode." She glanced at me in concern as we walked into parts and services. "What happened that was strange?" "I had a sudden pain in my head, I was struggling to breathe, and I couldn't hear Chica and Roxanne talk due to a sudden high pitch sound." "Sounds to me you had a sudden anxiety attack, Violetta." I looked over to see a man, who seemed to be in his late 30s, cleaning some tools standing next to Montgomery, who was leaning against a wall on what I assumed to be his phone. "You finished, Ivan?" He nodded as he placed down his tools. I walked over to Montgomery as the siblings exchanged words, "Good afternoon, Montgomery. How are you today?" I asked with a smile. He jumped at my sudden appearance, grabbing his chest, "Holy shit! Ya scared me, shorty." "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to!" I apologized. He put his phone in his pocket as he smiled a little, patting my head, "It's fine... ya sleep good?" I shook my head, "Not really. I stayed up decorating my room. I probably need to recharge after this." He chuckled at my honesty, "If ya need help, feel free to ask me or the others." I nodded, "I appreciate the offer, but I'm about finished."
"We're ready for you, Sugar!" I skipped over to Penny as she escorted me inside. I took off the cardigan I was wearing and placed it on the chair. Penny began to plug me into the chair as Ivan was setting up the procedure outside the tube."We might have to shut you down to see why your battery is being weird. Is that okay?" asked Ivan, using the speaker. I nodded, "Of course. I had a feeling that would happen." He nodded and told Montgomery he was free to go as Penny plugged in the last cord. Montgomery left as they began to shut me down to start the procedure.
-Time Skip-
I slowly powered up after hours of lying on this table. I slowly sat up as my eyes adjusted to my surroundings. "How are you feeling, Violetta?" asked Ivan sitting in the chair next to his sister. "I feeling great, sir!" I replied with glee. He smiled at me, "Glad to hear!" The siblings unplugged me, letting me stretch before my eyes caught the instrument I found the night before. "Is it okay if I keep that? If not, that's fine." I asked, pointing to the old instrument. "I don't think that it should be a problem. It will need a lot of TLC before you can play it," Penny stated without question. I smiled and grabbed the instrument before rushing to my room.
Not long after I arrived, I heard a knock on my door. I turned down the relaxing music and walked towards the door. I slowly peeked my head out to see Roxanne and Chica. "Hey! How can I help you two?" I asked, opening the door a little more. "Penny said you finished your room," Roxanne tirelessly replied. I invited the two girls in, letting them see my finished room. The walls were painted sky blue with different colored flowers and butterflies scattered around. I had placed two tall tan bookshelves neatly between the tv and coffee table I had found. The couch was a lovely, soft fabric, grey with two lilac pillows. "I have yet to find a small table to finish the look, but I at least have a seating area. You guys want any snacks or drinks?" I asked as I walked to the small, makeshift kitchen.
"Wow, Vi! This is remarkable!" Chica exclaimed with pure love for the space. "You did this all by yourself?" spoke the shocked wolf. I nodded bashfully as I handed both the girls some water. Roxanne whistled as she took in the environment. Her gaze stopped, "Where did you get those?" I followed her eyes to the consoles and sighed, "Found them in some boxes while I was cleaning. They are just decorations since I can't repair them." Chica looked at my disappointed face and grabbed my hands, "Say, how about we go and bake some goodies? I wanna try this new recipe I just learned." "Maybe next time Chica... I wanna see if  I can repair this instrument I found."
"Instrument?" Roxanne spoke with interest. I showed them to my small work area, hidden behind a door next to my r om. "Oh, my *bawk* is that a violin?!" Chica was excited about the old instrument. "I thought it was a viola." "Either way, I bet it will look fabulous once we finish repairing it!" I turned to the excited girl, "We?" She nodded as she ran out, "I'll get the paint and brushes!" I giggled as Roxanne leaned against the wall puffing her chest. "Is there something wrong, Roxanne?" "None of your concern." I frowned at her sudden hostility, "Did I do something to upset you?"
"No... I was hoping to take her out to lunch later," she sighed, drooping her ears. "Oh..." I kept quiet for a second as I thought of responding to her comment, "... I may not be in the right place to say this, but I am sure Chica is just as happy to be with you regardless of what you two are doing. She seems to be the type of girl to be happy just being in your presence..." Roxanne looked at me with a raised eyebrow, "What makes you say that?" "I mean, she is just happy to spend time with you regardless of what's happening around her," I stuttered out, hoping to get my point across. We stayed silent for a few seconds until Roxanne chuckled, "For someone who hasn't been alive for more than a few days, you sure are good at making people feel better." She smiled as Chica came walking in with food instead of paint. "What did I miss?" she asked with her mouth full of pizza. "Nothing... where's the paint, babe?" Chica shrugged as she continued to snack down on the pizza she had brought with her.
*Massive Time Skip*
"Almost done? The staff party starts soon!" yelled an impatient Ivan. "Chill, bro! I'm almost done with her makeup and hair!" yelled back Penny. It has been about six months since I was activated, and many things have changed. I was still a bit shy sometimes, but I was closer to the band. Though I often hung out with Chica and Roxanne, I mostly hung out with Freddy as we chatted about books and music. He helped encourage me and helped put his musical view as I learned to play the violin. As for Montgomery, we would chat back and forth during some of his breaks. I had to help him calm down before he ripped off a customer's head a few times, but we were on good terms other than that.
I finally met Moon's twin brother, Sun, after one of the lights in the daycare broke two months ago. Sun was the exact opposite of Moon's personality, which wasn't great since Moon loved to scare me at every opportunity he could. I would mostly play with the kids, but I was happy to help the twins. The kids would keep asking if I would sing them to sleep when Moon was sick, but I kept saying I wasn't as good as Moon or Freddy. They didn't seem to care that much about it, so I sing for them every now and then.
While I hated being in a crowded area, I wanted to know my friends better. Now I am sitting here in a dress that barely covers my shoulder and knees. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, sitting while Penny grabbed the blush. "You look cute, sugar! I wish there were another outfit, but this is all I could find on a last-minute notice that would fit," Penny apologized as she finished my makeup. The dress was a short, blue and white polka dot swing dress with a tutu sewn at the waist to extend the bottom. I wore some black tights, black stapped flats, a simple belt, and some butterfly earrings. I wasn't complaining about the dress but about the party itself.
Though I wish it covered me more as I was insecure about my appearance, I had never been to a party, and I wasn't good at being in tight spaces. I only started having this mild fear after I had to repair something in the vents and got stuck right before I could get out. That was how I met Sun, which I am still embarrassed about, but that's not the point. "I still don't understand why I have to go, Penny. I'd rather repair something in the vents again than attend," I pouted as she curled my hair. "I know you hate crowded areas, but you promised to play your violin for the fundraiser," she softly replied as she poofed my hair a bit. She nodded at her work and turned me to the mirror to look at myself.
It wasn't a significant change, but it was enough to make me smile. My brunette hair, usually tied up, was down and curled a bit with fake flowers scattered around. I rarely wore a lot of makeup because I got dirty, but it was clean and straightforward. The pink lip gloss shimmered at the light, complimenting the semi-dark eyeshadow and rosy blush. Penny placed her hands on my shoulders, "What do you think?" I was speechless as I stood up and twirled in the dress with a huge smile. "It's amazing. Thanks again for helping me, Penny." "Of course, girl! Now let's go and show off your outfit!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hand. We left my room to see Ivan talking with Freddy, chatting at the end of the hall. Penny had let go as she waved at the boys.'What if they don't like it? What if they make fun of me?' I stopped and hid behind a corner, worried they would see me. "There you are! We were going to leave without you." Ivan stated, crossing his arms.
"Where's Violet?" asked Freddy in concern as he looked around. "She's just nervous, Freddy. It is her first time attending something like this. Let alone performing in front of a crowd," Penny told the bear, pointing to my shy figure behind the corner. He nodded as he walked closer, making me tense up and go into the darkness to hide. He turned the corner and smiled softly, "There is no reason to be nervous, Superstar." He was like a prominent caring brother figure to me, which did help me feel a bit better knowing he wouldn't judge me. He held out a hand, "The others are waiting for us to show up." I took a deep breath and reached out my hand to the suited-up bear. I had ignored the fear of judgment as I stepped into the light. His eyes widened as he finally saw me in the dress. His ears wiggled in delight, "You look amazing, Superstar!" I blushed at his compliment, "Thanks, Freddy." He embraced me, ensuring any doubt or nerves left my systems. I giggled and saw his tail wag in joy as I hugged him back. "You ready?" I nodded with a huge smile, "Yeah. Let's go."
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kittyball23 · 1 year
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Home (an Incredibles fanfic)
A/N: I’ve been slacking off putting some of my fics on Tumblr, so here they all come xD
Summary: After the jet destroys the Parrs' home, their new place of residence doesn't exactly leave the best first impression on the family
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"This is our new house?"
Normally, Dash would be reprimanded for taking on such a tone of criticism in his voice after being offered something out of kindness. Now however, Bob and Helen Parr could only stand in numb silence as they observed the tacky looking building from the outside.
The neon sign, meant to look welcoming, flickered somewhat ominously at the rooftop, casting an eerie orange glow over the area. The motel itself was in a questionable shape, with paint peeling off of the colored doors, walls splattered with dirty stains, and a pool rather unfit for swimming with how much grime was floating around inside. It was certainly a far cry from anything Superheroes should be living in - even their old house, while mediocre, was a much more suitable place to reside in. But that, of course, was no longer a possibility, not after how the abode was so quickly decimated after Syndrome's jet had fallen atop of it in a fiery explosion.
Things were not that much better upstairs in their actual apartment, either. The interior looked as though it had not been cleaned in ages, with dust as far as the eye could see and cobwebs upon every corner. A fly or two incessantly buzzed around, and a lone cockroach scurried away quickly when the lights were turned on. The grimaces on the family's faces only furthered, leaving them speechless to offer any sort of comment.
But regardless, Helen tried.
"Well…." she began, uncertain exactly of where to start. "It's uh… certainly not what we used to have..."
Violet scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You could say that again."
Helen gave her daughter a look before letting out a sigh. It wasn't as if she could disagree. There was barely enough room for Bob's hulking frame, let alone a family of five Supers, four of which held a myriad of powers begging to be used. How she wished she could be like her youngest child at that moment, little Jack-Jack, who was powerless and innocent to the world around him. But upon taking a closer look at her son, she could see that even he knew this place was not top notch. His large blue eyes curiously looked around, scrutinizing, before he decidedly scrunched his little nose in a show of disgust.
"All right," she said. "I guess we better get to unpacking." There wasn't much that was saved, but what was had been stowed away in a few boxes.
Dash groaned. "Do we have to?"
"Yes," Helen replied sternly.
"How long do we hafta stay?" the boy asked.
"I… um…" The woman paused, realizing that she wasn't entirely sure how their living situation was to be handled. She had not had a job since Violet was born. And Bob had lost his over two months ago, with his only other supply of money from Syndrome's operation no longer being an option. She glanced over at Bob with the question in her eyes.
The man heaved a tired sigh and stepped up. "Well, Dicker said the Supers Relocation Program would be able to cover the expenses for now."
"If that's the case, why didn't we get placed somewhere nicer?" Violet asked, clearly upset.
Helen glared at the girl again, but Bob spoke up before she could say anything to her. "It was the best that Dicker could do, honey. The program… hasn't really been as active in recent years, and financially, they're uh… they're not exactly that well off."
The teen turned away, shaking her head. "Just like us," she muttered. Not arguing the matter though, she began to get to work, going outside to grab the boxes left just outside the door so she could bring them in.
With nothing more to say, either, Dash got to work helping his sister, making sure to give the place another once over before he went outside. Jack Jack distracted himself from the surroundings by chewing on a rubber duck toy he was holding in between his chubby little hands.
Bob and Helen in the meantime exchanged a look.
They both understood where the kids' feelings were coming from. It was the same feelings they had. But, it was the best Dicker could offer, and they had no other choice… not unless they wanted to end up in the street. And so, sucking in the rest of their resolve, the pair followed suit and started working to unload what they had into the empty space, hoping that it would look more homely afterward and, more importantly, hoping that something better was coming along soon for them all.
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