#but his boots… I can’t draw them at age 13 I still can’t draw them now

[nottheeconomy]

Give it up for the little USB man!

#Vocaloid #utatane piko #The economy is producing #His design is honestly so cool and unique I adore it heavily #but his boots… I can’t draw them at age 13 I still can’t draw them now #he has so many buttons and knobs!!! funky robot man!

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 79: The Rites of Blood and Knowledge

Chapters: 79/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg 13(Blood)

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel) Wanda Maximoff, vision, Bruce Banner

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, In Reference To Blood Mixing Mentioned In The Eddas

Summary:  The great ceremonies begin.

The dreams were powerful that night, whisking you off to far away places, off to the increasingly familiar form of the gargantuan space artist. There was a strange nostalgia out here that you were slowly coming to recognize as being not your own. How could it be? You had never physically been here, only visited in dreams.

With green and blue sparkling at your right and left, you drifted along in their orbit, yet another asteroid in a primordial star system.

First Wielder.

The concept filtered through your mind, trailing a warm and wistful longing behind it.

Peace. Eternity. Creation.

Before battle. Before separation. Before imprisonment.

Before all.

The star system was strange: every time you came here, the sun was a little different. A variable star, its brightness oscillating, it was still young and new.

There was only one planet in this system, located fairly close to the star. The presence of the colossal giant perturbed the asteroids and gas around the star, but their great mass prevented them from coalescing.

Comets formed in great numbers from the gas and ice beyond them, whizzing past them, inspiring new drawings. Asteroids clumped up against them; a brush of their great hand sent them flying, to collide into one another, to spin away from their unstable orbit, and join the comets on their cross-system journey, to crash into the singular planet.

The colossus watched with the patience of true immortality, as the planet burned and erupted, filled up with water, and clouds, and sky.

Thoughtfully, they regarded an asteroid they held in one hand, then, with their color-stained fingers, they began to draw.

The wistfulness and regret reached their peak, and you woke up in the empty bathtub, with a thought ringing in your head.

The Wielders always came to a bad end.

                                                                            ******

Loki was somewhat disgruntled to discover that you'd been having these dreams without him. He didn't scold, but his concern was clear. You described them in as much detail as you could, but, to your dismay, he didn't have any explanation for what you'd been seeing while you slept.

It would just have to remain a mystery. The upcoming day was going to be far too busy to dwell on it.

Both you and Loki had dressed in your absolute finest, your armor polished bright, your skirt covered in embroidery, your chest and neck festooned in beads of carved gold and pearl. You still felt a little bit like you were so buried in finery that you became invisible, but you tried to carry it with pride. All of this had been put together especially for you, and that hard work deserved to be shown off.

Loki was so magnificent in his fur-trimmed cloak, and elaborate helmet, you had to firmly tell yourself not to spend the whole day just staring at him all moon-eyed.

Maybe just a few hours.

Today, the Second Feast, was really the main event, as far as this Buridag was concerned. At noon, you would participate in the Blood Taking ceremony, wherin you would 'mingle blood' with the royal brothers, in order to be formally adopted into Asgardian high society. This would cement your status as high enough to advise Loki as one of the most important members of his personal entourage. And before the evening feast, you would perform the ritual that would confirm you as an official Seidkona.

But before that, you would have the time to run around and enjoy the festival.

It was set up like a combination job fair and reenactment fest. Stalls lined the streets and filled courtyards, peopled by the crafters of Asgard. Smiths, armorers, and carpenters, goldsmiths, lapidaries, scrimshanders, and glassblowers. Weavers, spinners, leatherworkers, and dyemakers, artists, musicians, chefs, academics, mages, stonemasons, construction workers, scribes, dancers, and cheesemongers. All the sights, and sounds, and scents, and flavors that made up Asgard were being demonstrated and celebrated.

Your Father and Tara joined you in the streets, and Loki reluctantly released you into their care, having some preparation left to do.

Tara, flouncing around in an apron dress and domed brooches very much like your usual style, gushed over how beautiful you looked, and your father, rather sheepishly dressed in an Asgardian greatcoat and cowl, agreed openly.

“You look like a princess.” he said. “A real one. You...You walk different now. Talk different. You look so strong.”

“Is it me, or are all these people following us?” Tara asked, not very quietly. A few chagrined people in the crowd that flowed in your wake down the street peeled away, and wandered in different directions. The rest either had less shame, or had orders to keep watch over you.

You spared the group a glance. There appeared to be a solid mix of Asgardians and humans, several of which had their phones out. You surmised there would be a new wave of photos of you on the internet over the next few days.

“Keep your cowl up dad.” You advised.

“Want me to run them off?” he offered.

“Nah. I don't really mind if they take pictures of me. Can't really hurt anything.”

“Wasn't so great last time.” Tara pointed out. “I spent a lot of time stanning for you.”

“Well, last time was sensationalized bullcrap. This time is a nice festival. I mean, check out that guy!”

That Guy was a glassblower in his stall, spinning a huge, bubble thin amphora of rose pink glass. You had seen its like before, but never seen one made.

“Oh, they age crystal mead in those! The pink lets in the right wavelengths of light that give it it's shimmering quality.”

“What's crystal mead?” your father asked.

“Don't try more than a few sips, if anyone offers.” you warned. “Asgardians have iron guts. Their booze is way too strong.”

“Yeah, they warned us about that on the plane.” Tara said. “And yesterday, it looked like they had everything divided up by species, so no one got the wrong thing.”

You took them around to various demonstrations: spinners spinning yarn, brewers preparing several of Asgards many alcoholic beverages, apothecaries showing how basic medicines were made, a cobbler putting together a nice pair of boots.

“So, Asgard's really advanced, right?” Tara asked. “Why is everything like Ye Olden Times?”

“Asgard's never had that big a population, even at it height. There just isn't that much demand for mass production. Most things are bespoke, or self-made. Quality depends entirely on the maker, so that, of course, becomes a competition. And that, in turn, becomes a matter of cultural pride. Also, they have thousands of years to get good at what they do, so Asgardian made goods are super high quality, and they judge personal worth by that. I don't think they'll ever automate; it would go against a lot of what they stand for.”

You snagged the three of you a traditional Asgardian snack; fat sausages, wrapped in savory pastry. You thought it might be good to have something else in your stomach before the first ceremony.

Tara called them Asgardian corn dogs, which you couldn't wait to share with Loki, if only to watch his nose wrinkle with disdain over the undignified term.

“So when do we have to let you go?” Tara asked.

You checked your phone for the time, stuffing the last of your sausage into your mouth.

“Eh, I've got a few minutes left. Better start heading over though.”

Your winding path through the courtyards took you past minstrels, impromptu dances, and games, to a large, tall dais that had been put together as a temporary mirror to the throne room. It towered over the City Hall courtyard like a ziggurat. You'd be up there soon enough, but currently...

“Who's that?” your father asked, pointing at a man standing at the top. “Doesn't look like Thor.”

You squinted up at the figure, his bright armor shining in the rarefied sunlight.

“Ah, That's Heimdall. He's the Guardian of Asgard, and god of...uh, sight? I think? Vigilance? It's not quite that neat and simple, you know? The whole 'God Of' thing is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So that's a god?” your father asked. “How can you tell? Are they all gods? What does that even mean?”

“All good questions. Mostly because they are very hard to answer.”

Your father and Tara jerked at the sudden new voice, and, not for the first time, you found yourself amazed at how easily a man of the sheer size and importance as the king of Asgard could sneak up on people.

“Your Majesty.” you said calmly, inclining your head. Your father and Tara dipped into awkward bows, a little awed by the mythical figure before them. Thor didn't necessarily demand obeisance, but he didn't exactly discourage it either; he let people act as they felt appropriate.

“Not every Asgardian is a god.” Thor explained. “Those that are go by the term 'Aesir', a common name through most of the realms for beings of that type. You are born Aesir; you cannot become one by outside influences. However, Aesir nature doesn't always become apparent at birth, it often doesn't manifest until adolescence. As for what it means to be Aesir...that doesn't have so straightforward an answer. I leave it to the philosophers, who, incidentally, are in booth seventy-eight.

Anyway, I have come to collect your daughter for the ceremony. There isn't much time left, so we'd all better get in place. If you go through those two poles there right now, you can get very good seats.”

“This could get a bit weird.” You warned. “It's a ceremony more ancient than any recorded human practices, so it's probably going to seem archaic.”

“Oh, it's not so bad.” Thor said. “It's been updated and refined over all those years. For instance, everyone remains clothed now, and there are at least seventy percent fewer entrails used.”

Your father coughed, and you rolled your eyes. Thor's sense of humor was difficult for you to understand, considering how serious he was about everything. The thing about Thor's jokes was that he might have been joking about something that had really happened, or he might have been joking about something he'd completely made up, but he would never specify which.

“On that note, I've got to go.” you said. “Entrails to sort, and all that.”

Your father coughed again, Tara patting him compassionately on the back.

“Good luck!” she called to your receding back.

                                                                                ******

“Now, you've been fully briefed on what will happen during this ceremony, correct?” Thor asked, as the two of you loitered near the back stairs of the temporary dais. People were filtering in to seats and standing room around the courtyard, waiting for things to start.

“I think so.” you said. “If I've got this right, there's going to be a special dance-”

“The Alignment of the Celestial and Worldly bodies, yes.” Thor said. “It symbolizes everything that must come together to bring the 'adoptee' to the greater 'family'. In this case, it will tell the story of how you came here to join our family.”

A soft warmth crept up your neck, and heated your ears beneath your helmet. You knew it was all socio-symbolism, but the notion of 'joining the family' hit differently now that you were on intimate terms with Loki.

“And then all the braziers will have some kind of incense thrown in, and in the smoke, we'll all go up the stairs like we're magically appearing. Honestly, it sounds like it'll look really cool.”

“All ceremonies contain a bit of theatrics.” Thor agreed. “Perhaps that is the most important part. Or that's the part that makes it important. I wish we still had some of the traditional ceremonial incense, but we just don't have access to the materials anymore. You would have liked it; it was much more floral than most of what you have here. We did manage to get some lavender though. That should be nice.”

“Maybe one day, when the Bifrost is more stable.” You said. It did sound very nice. “Loki said that you, and he, and Heimdall will sing a blessing song?”

“Yes, a divine blessing from a trio of Aesir. It's got to be three. And then...”

“Yeah. And then.” Loki had told you about the bloodletting. He had been very frank about it. “I know. I'm nervous, but not afraid.”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes there are unforeseen effects, but never anything bad. You'll be perfectly safe.”

“I know. The nervousness just comes from knowing it'll hurt. Even if just for a short time.”

You buckled under Thor's hand when it came down on your shoulder, enveloping the whole thing.

“Loki would rather slice out his own guts than draw your blood, trust me. He's been trying to figure out how to get around it for weeks. Unfortunately, the blood is the most important part of the magic. It carries all of the power. It's very old magic: according to him, this is practically the only part of the ritual that has remained unchanged from the beginning.”

“Did there really used to be entrails and naked people, or was that a joke?”

“Ehhh, well, yes and no. This ceremony originated with the Vanir, and they are not opposed to nakedness under certain circumstances. In this case, everyone who attended was expected to leave the clothes they came in at the door, and wear a special loincloth instead. This was actually to prevent violence, by barring hidden weaponry from being brought to ceremony grounds. So rather than pure nudity, everyone was dressed as scantily as was possible.

As for entrails...unfortunately yes, that was also a part of it. A seer would perform a divination using the entrails of a slaughtered animal. That practice was going out of fashion, even before the war, and I don't think anyone today even remembers how it was done.”

You shuddered. Yes, it was a different culture, and a long time ago, but it still grossed you out.

“I'll have to remember to thank Loki for trying to get me out of it, even if he wasn't successful.” You said. He really did put in a lot of effort behind the scenes. If only he were more open about some of that effort, so you could appreciate it more.

“He was adamant about the bull.” Thor said. “Demanded a private ritual the night before. Put your helmet up on the pillar, then sacrificed and butchered the beast himself. Insisted on it. Did our ancestors proud, but you know he knows his way around a knife.”

“I wish he'd told me. I was really stressed about that whole thing. I'm glad, in the end, that he was thinking of me, but I really wish I'd known. I wouldn't have lost so much sleep!”

“It was a little last minute.” Thor admitted. “I approved it the instant he explained, but we had to do it pretty much immediately afterwards. He really should have told you, but I fear my brother is usually more invested in the making of plans, rather than what to do once they come to fruition. I feel you will be a positive influence on him, though.”

Even though he was wearing his eyepatch, rather than the mismatched prosthetic, his one blue eye was open and sincere.

“I think so too.” you said. You already were influencing each other. It was impossible to live so close, to sleep in the same bed, without doing so. But Loki did have a bad habit of assuming things, a by-product of his upbringing as a leader, you supposed. You would simply have to speak up more.

Perhaps you had gotten too comfortable. But perhaps you wanted to be too comfortable. It might be a holdover from your year of struggle, but having someone who wanted to do so much for you was very tempting. You knew it would be better to strive for a balance, but you also knew that, unless Loki somehow diminished himself severely, the two of you would never truly be equals.

But you admired that greatness, and somehow, those all too common flaws in him made him easier for you to love. They made him so real.

An ambling drum beat started up, accompanied by the brassy ting of zills, and a flute. Loki joined you and Thor in peeking out around the dais, just as a group of dancers spread out around the courtyard.

You'd been told that the dancers represented personages from history and legend. You were pretty sure that the three women who orbited the dance stage equidistant from one another must be the Norns, and you assumed the cluster of people standing beneath a glittering tree branch and clanging their zills were probably meant to be the ancestors of the royal family.

The dance told a story of a woman dressed like you, and a man dressed like Loki, wearing silver bells at their wrists and ankles that jingled with every step. They made everything look so much more graceful and sensual than it really had been: Holding hands like the rune branding had been on purpose, dancing circles with each other, like everything had been friendly and not at all awkward from the very beginning. How elegantly 'you' swooned into 'his' arms, while the assassin was caught. How triumphantly 'you' defended 'him' against the Huldra. And how beautifully 'he' clasped 'you' in a romantic, yet properly chaste embrace.

There was none of the blood, none of the fear, or anger, or petulance, or confusion. No loss, or loneliness, or uncertainty.

But that was how it worked, wasn't it? None of those things could be shown to the general public. This was ceremony. This was spectacle! This was what would be remembered.

The pair danced away, out of sight, the ancestors retreated, and the Norns raised their arms in unison. All around the courtyard, attendants dumped incense into the torches and braziers, sending thick smoke and mysterious perfume wafting over the entire area.

“Show's on, darling.” Loki said, grasping your shoulders, and leading you up the stairs. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you rose above the sweet smelling clouds like a legend. Heimdall stepped aside to let you pass, Loki and Thor leading you right up to the edge of the elevated platform, where waited a podium, upon which rested a brass bowl. An unfamiliar rune was stamped on its bottom. So that was where the magic would happen.

Thor held his hand out over an unlit brazier just in front of the podium and concentrated. Scarcely a moment later sparks danced between his fingers and jumped to ignite the fuel. The light illuminated the clouds of incense, obscuring the audience. Cut off thus from every other person out there, you didn't flinch as the trio of gods each placed a hand on you, and began to sing.

You couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. It was a complex song, with rising and falling harmonies, parts layered over one another, something that couldn't have been easy to learn. As their voices dipped and flowed, you felt the power rising, just like out in the camp, months ago. Why could you sense divine power? Was it because of your magic? Was there anyone out in the crowd that could feel it too?

Thor's good eye had begun to sparkle with crackling white energy, the power of the blessing he was singing into you. You assumed Heimdall, behind you, was lighting up orange, and when you turned your head to glance at Loki, you were suffused with the gentle glow of the blue light from your dreams.

All of the anxiety drained out of you at the touch of that light, your arms dropping to your sides as relaxation took over.

Everything was all right. Loki was right beside you. Thor and Heimdall were with you, their voices reverberating through you, their blessing upon you. The rare winter sun filtered down over you like a blanket, as the last notes of the Aesir's song filled your head.

Loki gently took your hand, gazing earnestly into your face as the calming light faded from his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispered.

A sudden, painful jab, ripped you out of your cocoon of sunny calm. With a sharp cry, you turned to stare at your fingertip, pierced deeply by the tip of one of Loki's knives.

Loki held your hand over the brass bowl, letting the blood drip, enough to cover the rune at the bottom. Then he tenderly bandaged the tiny wound, lines of regret around his eyes. Thor held his hand out for a slash, and then Loki turned the blade on himself. Blood slowly filled the little bowl, as a light throbbing started in your head. Every drop that rippled its surface was like a giant heartbeat within you.

Once it was full, Thor and Loki began singing again, lifting the small bowl between them. They held it up to the sun, and then poured it onto the burning brazier. The fire sputtered, sizzling, sending a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face. You gagged on the scent of burning blood, practically bathed in it, a layer of death-scent on your skin. The song cut through it, thrumming in your ears, an echoing promise of cherishment and fidelity.

The blood burned down into nothing, the smoke slowly clearing. All of the people in the courtyard came back into view, the upturned faces solemn. The dancers below picked up the chorus.

And you understood them.

Loki took your hand and lifted it up, flourishing to the crowd. They cheered, while you stood there, stunned. You understood what they were saying, their enthusiastic calls, their songs. The blood smell lingered in your nose, the throbbing swiftly receding from your head.

He led you to the stairs down as you wobbled, but you never made it all the way down. Dizziness overcame you, and you collapsed into Loki's arms.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel) #loki x reader

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

Steve Harrington has had an eventful life. He's slain monsters, saved the princess, and earned his dignity back. But that was in the past.

It's seven years later, 1994, and he's still finding himself. His friends have been up to other things though, getting married and inviting him to those weddings.

It's the last thing he wants to do, but his roommate decides to make him go through all four weddings in hopes of finding someone.

And so it begins.

(chapter one)

It’s been seven years since the gang has had any incident or warnings or dreams about monsters. Things have died down in Hawkins. So much so that it’s starting to feel normal again, or whatever normal is for everyone else. 

Steve feels like an outsider, though. Everyone he knows is getting married. Nancy and Jonathan, Robin and Kali, Hopper and Joyce, hell even Tommy and Carol tied the knot in Vegas. All of these, weddings he’s been invited to. Except for the latter, they sent him a postcard with a phallic drawing in the back. 

He was used to moping, even if Robin had threatened to make him listen to disco to cheer him up. You thought it was funny though, it showed he had some emotion after all. 

It’s not that he couldn’t continue his womanizing streak. It’s just that after feeling that connection with Nancy, he didn’t want to see different people in the morning. He wanted the one. 

It didn’t help that his parents would call all the time now. Asking him things like if he’d found a girlfriend yet, or a steady job, or be constantly reminded that the clock was ticking. He was painfully aware. 

He’d just come back from his stint as a bartender in some dingy club in lower Manhattan to the somewhat comfortable apartment he shared with you and Robin. Well, that is, until Robin decided to move in with Kali. Robin had taking a liking to you, you weren’t as girly and deluded as the other applicants they were going through and you certainly weren’t as bothersome.

Envelopes and bills spilled on the black mat you’d picked out, warding off visitors or unwanted guests with a foul word written on it. He gathered them, going through them as he opened the door. Nothing but bills and subscriptions.

What a joy to be an adult.

He let the things fall onto the taped up coffee table on its last legs and collapsed onto the faded green couch.

He heard the pitter-patter of your feet running into the living room. “Oh honey, you’re home.”

He snorted. “Haha, funny.” 

“What? No ‘Hey how’s your day?’ or ‘Good Morning’?”

“Good Morning.” He mumbled face down.

You smirk, settling onto the arm of the couch. “How bad was it?”

“Oh god, so bad.” He lifts his head up, eyes rolling for dramatic effect. 

“I’ve never had to clean vomit before in my life and now I feel so bad for what you have to go through.”

“Ugh, ok there’s a difference between cleaning up after drunk assholes and poorly malnutrition-ed dogs.”

He groans, stuffing his face back down. “My back is killing me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry Grandpa, do you want me to rub your back or maybe your feet?”

His head lifts up again to narrow his eyes at you. “You’re only four years younger than me, this is your future! But also, yes please.”

You roll your eyes in amusement. “I’m never going to be like this at your age.”

He chortles. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Unlike you, I have a life. I’m active!”

“I’m not sure sitting with a pack of popcorn and watching sci-fi tv counts as being active.” 

You gasp and rip the pillow from underneath him to hit him with it. “You’re the one who cried when Scully and Mulder -”

“Ahhhhh! No! Shut up!” He plugs his ears with his fingers. 

You erupt with laughter, falling off of the arm and onto the floor. 

You share a fun moment together before he groans again about his back. You think to resolve this with the expensive purchase you’ve been hiding. You rush into your room, if it could even be called that, grab the basin, fill it with water and back into the living room. 

“Here, kick off your shoes.” You kneel down, turning on the machine and placing his feet into the water. 

His tone changes the moment he feels the warmer kick in. He throws his head back in content and comfort. You take his shoes and place them near the doorway. 

“Did you see this?” You ask, the gold of a letter catching your eye. He hums in response.

You use the keys to rip it open, the hard cardstock nearly giving you a paper cut. You’re greeted with a beautiful invitation, all black with gold lettering and cursive writing. 

“You are cordially invited to share in a celebration of the union of Dustin Henderson and Suzie Smith.”

Steve’s eyes fly open as he turns his head to face you. “Let me see that.”

You pass it to him, getting comfortable in the little space and trying to remember where you’ve heard their names before.

Steve chuckles to himself, scanning the whole invite. “He did it. He really did it.”

“Dustin...is he the one you’re always talking about?”

“Yeah,” he smiles to himself, thinking of how much time has passed. “Kind of like the little brother I never had. Wow, I haven’t seen him since he was 15.”

You’ve never seen Steve so happy before. He doesn’t talk much about his life back in Hawkins and neither did Robin. You could only assume it was as boring like your own hometown and thus the reason for their leave. 

“Isn’t this the fourth wedding you’ve been invited to?” 

He sighs. “Yeah but, I don’t even know if I’m going to any of them.”

Your brows furrow. “Why not? You said it yourself this is like your brother.”

He lets the invitation fall onto his lap. “Because - I, I’m not as interesting as they probably think I am.”

“Pfft. So what? You want to entertain some people to spruce your ego or something?” 

“No,” he crosses his arms. “It’s just everyone’s getting married, my cousin just had like his third kid, oh and this guy at the bar was showing me his grandkid and crying like crazy.”

“So? Everyone’s different, things don’t always have to match up. You don’t have anything to prove.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and runs his hand through his hair.

“How about this? We go and we just try and set you up with someone. Doesn’t matter who. It’s four weddings, there’s bound to be some marriage material in there.”

He side smiles, contemplating. “Alright.”

“Good,” you clap. “You need this. Plus there’s something wrong with the plumbing and we have to leave while they fix it.”

He groans. 

January 13, 1994

Nancy & Jonathan’s Wedding

Portland, Maine

One Day Before

The airplane ride wasn’t too bad. Actually no, that was a lie. There was mostly turbulence and you spent most of the four hours freaking out and thinking that there was something going horribly wrong. Steve wouldn’t stop laughing at you though, faking that your seatbelt had come undone too many times. You shut him out by grabbing a blanket and trying to lull yourself to sleep without thinking about how you were suspended in mid-air on a death trap. 

It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped, being able to hear Steve’s poor flirting with the flight attendant. You rolled your eyes, but you had to give him some credit. He was starting early.

Steve shook you awake shortly after touchdown, poking at you. “Alright good, you’re in one piece. Can’t afford to claim you as extra baggage.” 

You faked a laugh and pinched him, earning a yelp from him and eyes from other passengers.

One confusing cab ride later, you both had arrived at a pleasant looking hotel. It looked over the ocean, which smelled and felt so incredible. It was cloudy now, the sun hiding away and making the hotel the sole focus of your attention. 

You struggled to get your suitcase up the stairs, eventually giving up and letting Steve carry it while you carried the other bags. 

“Geez, what’s in here, rocks?”

“Hey! I didn’t know what to bring exactly so I brought a little of everything.”

“You look like you packed for two weeks, we’re only going to be here for two days!”

“I work hard to look good, Steve. Which is less than I can say about this number.” You gestured to his wardrobe consisting of a worn henley, frayed at the end of the sleeves, a denim jacket and brown boots you stole from him from time to time. 

He looks up and down. “I think I look good.” 

You ignore him, continuing up the infernal stairs, mentally making a note to join Robin on her retreats. 

You two are trying to catch your breath at the desk when you meet the attendant. 

“Byers wedding.” You huff out. 

When you’re handed the keys, you steer Steve into an elevator, not even bothering to look at the massive set of stairs even if they were decorated beautifully.

“Hurry.” He whispers, dragging the suitcases. 

“I’m trying! You’re the one who packed all these jackets.” 

“It’s cold, do you want us to freeze?”

“No, but we could’ve done with two!”

You both finally arrive to your room confused. 

“Wait, why did she give you only one key?” Steve asks, hand on his hip like a mother.

“I don’t know, you’re the one that booked it.” You shrugged, sticking the keys in and opening the door.

“I clearly said two people in one roo - I see my mistake.” 

A single king bed stares back at you both, tidied up with a towel teddy bear in the middle of it. 

You glance at Steve, meeting his eyes before glancing back to the room. You both stay silent.

“I’ll take the floor.” You both say in unison.

“No, no, you can take the bed. Since you say you always need your beauty sleep.” He gestures to your face.

You snort. “Me? No, Grandpa, I think you need it more than I do. Wouldn’t want you breaking your back at the wedding and outshining the bride.”

He mimics you in a high pitched voice, prompting you to laugh. 

“Listen we can figure it all out once we get everything unpacked, okay?” You wave him off. 

He shrugs. “Fine by me.”

The tv plays in the background while you brush your teeth. Steve settles in the huge bed, patting down his pillow. 

Once you’re done, you wet your fingers and rush into the room and flick your hand at Steve. You get him right in the face.

“Hey! I’m trying to sleep here.”

“You’re no fun.” 

“Yeah well, we can have as much fun as we want tomor- what’re you doing?”

His train of thought is interrupted by you slipping into the bed. 

“What? You really thought I was going to sleep on the floor?” 

He chuckles nervously. “No.”

It amuses you. “Relax.” 

He slinks back into bed, one arm under his pillow and the other atop his forehead. You grab one of the extra pillows and wrap your arms around it, your right leg climbing on top of it. 

A few minutes pass and the pillow is too uncomfortable and sweaty so you discard it onto the floor somewhere. You huff. 

You glance at Steve who’s snoring lightly.

“Steve.” You whisper. 

Nothing.

“Steve!” You whisper a little louder.

He hums in response. 

“Are you asleep?”

“I was.” He whispers back.

“Can I..hug you?”

That gets his attention. His arm leaves his face, now looking at you through sleepy eyes. 

“What?” 

“Can I hug you? I can’t sleep without the pillow making me sweaty.” 

“Uhh, what about Danny?”

“We broke up. A while ago.”

His mouth drops into an O shape. 

You shake your head, dismissing the thought. “Nevermind.”

Steve hops onto his elbows, “No! No, it’s okay. Really.”

You turn back, trying to see if he’s serious. When that sorry look is apparent, you nod. 

“How do you - oh okay.”

You get close to his right side, swinging your leg over his waist and wrapping your right arm over his chest. He can smell your shampoo. 

“Cuddling doesn’t have to be sexual by the way.” You murmur into his chest.

He almost asks you to explain that but when he hears your soft snoring, he forgets. 

#steve harrington x reader #joe keery x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #based on the plus one movie 🥰

[hitsuackerman]

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.12

a/n: it begins >:)

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @sayakaaaaaa @colorseeingchick @demursv1ogs​ @chrisrue15 @beanst0ck @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 13

Time flew by so fast in this dimension. Now that you were well adjusted and loving the new life here, it had not dawned on you that 7 months had already passed. Things were moving smoothly and pleasantly.

“Here you go.” Akaashi handed you a snack bar. The two of you (well maybe three if Bokuto is included) were practically inseparable. The team had finally managed to pin the both of you down and confirm that you two were indeed dating. “Did you sleep well?”

Walking to school was still a thing both of you did. Except this time, fingers were intertwined and barely any distance between the both of you. The only time you two let go was when the school gates were near. Still, walking down the hallways, Akaashi made sure to always brush his fingers with yours.

“I did!” You pulled him in to kiss his cheek. The small smile he gave you still made your stomach butterflies flutter. “I did have a weird dream last night. You and Bokuto-san switched personalities. Seeing you do his ‘HEY HEY HEY’ was just so wrong on all levels.”

“Is there a quirk that can do that?”

At this point in time, you barely relied on your quirk. The feeling of accomplishing things without it’s aid was much more satisfying. Of course, Akaashi still reaped its healing benefits and took note of how his stamina had improved.

“High chances. If we can have a washing machine as a pro-hero, then there’s bound to be a quirk swapping quirk.”

“A washing machine?” He brushed his thumb on the corner of your lip to wipe off a crumb. “Even now, your world still surprises me.”

“It’s great if you hear it.” Leaning on his shoulder, you tightened your hold on his hand. “Living in it is a completely different story. It’s been, what, 7 months since I arrived here and I am more than content with not having to rely on my quirk.”

“What about your combat skills? Shouldn’t you still be sharpening them?”

“I wish I could.” That was true, though. “I’m pretty much useless at 30%. Even if I wanted to lift boulders or shit, I have to maintain at least 40%. The difference is small but the output is huge. I don’t get my quirk’s logic.”

“Well, it’s still early.” The gates were now in sight but he refused to let go of your hand. “I’m pretty sure you can work on your quirk. The others won’t arrive within 30 minutes.”

“It’s been 5 months and you’re still curious to see how I fight?” You giggled.

“Yes.” He nodded. “If my girlfriend trained to be a hero, I’d love to see how you move.”

“Well, you made that sound sexy~” You nudged his elbow. “Think we can have a little action before we head to the gym?”

“It’s 6:30am, (y/n). It’s too early for that.” He teased. Yet his steps were a little faster than before. “But, I guess I can’t oppose the idea.”

The next thing you knew, your back hit the wall as Akaashi hungrily kissed you. With your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers found themselves coming through his hair. Pinning you even more, Akaashi’s hand undid your ribbon and unbuttoned the first two. Letting go of your lips, he trailed kisses from your cheek down to the crook of your neck.

As he was softly sucking on your skin, you loosened his tie and undid the two buttons as well. Tugging his hair, you were face to face with him again. Lust filled eyes staring back into yours. Leaning in, you gently kissed his lips before returning the favor. Activating your quirk, Akaashi felt his feet leave the ground. Knowing what you were about to do, he could feel you turning the both of you around.

Skillfully placing the both of you on the floor, Akaashi leaned on the wall as his hands began to roam higher and higher up your skirt. Having you straddle him this early in the morning was rather pleasant in all aspects. Tilting his head a bit, he gave you much easier access and felt you sucking on his skin a little harsher this time.

“Make sure it’s hidden under the collar.” He managed to whisper. Hickeys were a common thing to have both your bodies. He smirked at how your only response was a nod.

Caressing your cheek, he admired the way your face glowed even more. Pulling you in softly for another kiss, he felt his stomach fluttering when you smiled.

“We should probably head to the lockers now.”

“Fine.”

“We can continue this in my room later.” He whispered before kissing you deeply.

“Counting the hours~”

Moments later, you were now pumping air into some volleyballs. Morning practice for today would only take an hour so there was plenty of time to freshen up before the homeroom. Now that the gym was packed with your boys, you rolled out the volleyball cart and positioned it beside the net.

Everyone was now used to having you as a ball girl. In fact, some of them even tried to challenge you by purposely hitting the ball too hard or too low. With your hero training, it was nothing but a walk in the park. You did notice, however, that your body began to sweat a bit more. The after effects of not using your quirk for a long time was showing.

Nothing bad happens, though. Just panting and sweating.

“Aghkaashe!” Bokuto yelled. “Can you and (y/n)-chan help with my math later?”

“I don’t mind. What about you, (y/n)?”

“Sure thing~” You approached your two favorite boys. “Bokuto-senpai, how well did you do on your previous quiz?”

The captain’s golden eyes sparkled.

“HAHAHA! Thanks to you both, I managed to get a 32/50! Whatdya think?!” He punched the air and grinned widely. When the both of you applauded he began to jump up and down while shouting his trademark.

“Calm down, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi tried to stop him from jumping up and down. His friend obeyed and gave a cheeky thumbs up.

“God, I love you both so much~” You giggled at their exchange.

“But you love Ahkaashi more, don’t you (y/n)-chan?” Bokuto added as he shouldered Akaashi. This time, his deadpan face was holding a soft smile.

“Of course!”

When Konoha’s alarm sounded, each of you began to clean up and prepare for the rest of the day. With how often you did it, it had now become second nature to you. Yukie and Kaori even admitted that you adapted much faster than they had anticipated. Once all of you were now freshened up, the gym was locked once more and each player looked forward for the after school practice.

“Exams are approaching.” Akaashi said as he let you step into the classroom first. “Have you prepared your notes?”

“I did. But, you do remember that the subjects you have here are way too easy for me, right?” Placing your bag on your desk, you took a seat and faced Akaashi. “Shall we study in your room or mine?”

“we can take turns.” Now that he was seated, he fished out one of his notebooks and placed it on his desk. Not that it was needed, it merely became one of his habits. Watching as you dragged your chair closer to him, he offered you a pen and flipped the notebook open.

“So, what do you want me to draw?” This had become one of your recent traditions. Before the start of homeroom, Akaashi noticed how you liked to doodle on his notebooks. Deciding that a special one was needed, he took the liberty of buying a blank journal for you to fill with whatever it is you saw fit.

“Hmm, I recall you saying that you designed your own hero costume.” He saw how your eyes lit up. “May i see what it looked like?”

Starting the sketch, you began to draw a figure and dressed it with your costume.

“So, my costume isn’t flashy unlike the others.” You explained. “A quirk like mine doesn’t really need a lot of support items so I went with mobility and comfort. I decided that simplicity was key. Just the normal jacket, shirt, pants, and boots. The only support item I had were my gloves.”

Sketching your gloves, Akaashi couldn’t help but adore just how focused you were. Tucking in a loose strand of hair, he felt the butterflies in his stomach churning once again as the corners of your mouth formed a smile and your cheeks turning a faint hue of pink.

“What do your gloves do?” They looked like standard fingerless gloves.

“The material was specifically designed to aid in manipulating my quirk. It concentrates the energy I release and wraps around my hand. Sorta like a human torch~” It was a bit difficult to explain how it worked knowing you didn’t listen to the man who gave you the item. As long as it aided you, it was fine.

“What were Todoroki-kun’s support items?”

“Shoto’s support items were mostly temperature regulators. Wristbands and a big one he wears like a backpack to help even him out.” You drew his support items rather well.

“Can you try to sketch Todorki-kun’s face?” Letting you draw your friends was something he wasn’t so comfortable with. Not for that reason of course. He merely assumed that it would be a sensitive topic knowing the circumstances of how you arrived in his world. When you giggled, he tilted his head.

“About time you asked~” Beginning to draw your childhood friend, you continued. “I honestly wouldn’t mind drawing my friends for you, ya know? There’s no way I can introduce you to them so sketching them would be the best alternative.”

“I’m sorry.” He held on to your free hand. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfy.”

“You never make me uncomfy. Keiji~”

It was a quick sketch of half and half but a good one. He squinted his eye when he took note of the scar. He had heard of Tokoyami and Mina, but this one merely showed a boy about his age with a nasty burn on his face.

“Shoto’s got one helluva back story.” Your thumb began to brush Akaashi’s knuckles. “That scar was given to him by his mum when he was around 5 or 6 years old. It’s sad but he grew to accept it and is now healing.”

“You were engaged before, right?”

“For a while, yeah.” You handed him back the pen and closed the sketchpad. The bell had now rung and right on time, the teacher entered the room. Just as she was relaying a message, you were rummaging in your bag for a notebook.

“Please introduce yourselves~” The teacher said.

“Bakugo Katsuki”

“Midoriya Izuku.”

- - - - -

a/n: sooo... what yall gonna do now? :’)

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi keiji #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x bnha

[violetwolfraven]

If you’re still taking requests maybe 1+4 for Sprace?

Canon-era in general

And

Soulmate AU

I am always taking requests, my dude. Anyway here we go! This is mostly in the musicalverse but if I reference a few movieverse characters as older Newsies during Race’s childhood...😏 Also there are a couple of ocs in here, and it gets a bit angsty towards the end. Enjoy!

Tw: Underage drinking, a couple of side characters are mentioned to have died, and homophobia is kind of implied, I guess?

...

Race had grown up knowing that he liked boys, and that didn’t really match up with what people said love was supposed to be, but that was just how Race was.

And it wasn’t like it was hurting anyone, was it? Being only a little kid, Race was too young to actually do anything, and if he sometimes paid attention to the way a friend looked really cute when he’d just woken up, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had to or even could act on those little crushes.

It was like Manhattan’s leader, Waffles, said. He called it ‘puppy love’ when Jack snuck glances at a girl his age on the street or Crutchie shyly gave one a flower when he handed her mother a pape. Nobody actually acted on these things.

Little baby crushes when you were a kid meant nothing, and that meant that Race would outgrow this and start liking girls in time to meet his soulmate, right? Because soulmates meant a boy with a girl, and nothing else, right?

At least, that was what he thought, until he and Jack walked into an alley when Race was 8 and Jack was 10 and found a couple of older boys kissing—which Race was pretty sure you were only supposed to do with someone you loved.

Snitch and Itey jumped apart, staring at the younger boys in shock. Then they each grabbed one and dragged them into the Lodging House bathroom to tell them that Race and Jack could not tell anyone.

Race was too scared to speak (Snitch and Itey were significantly bigger than him) but Jack stepped in front of him and demanded to know why.

That was when Itey sighed, said that maybe it would be better if Waffles explained this, and gone to get their leader.

Race hadn’t really believed it at first when Waffles sat them down and carefully explained that Itey and Snitch were soulmates.

“That ain’t possible,” Jack argued, “They’s both boys.”

“Yeah,” Waffles said, “And maybe it’s a cruel trick of fate or a mistake or whatever the church thinks, but here with the Manhattan Newsies? We don’t care. Okay? We’s a family. We don’t turn on Itey and Snitch for somethin’ they can’t control.”

“Why would we turn on them?” Race asked, confused. That was what this was; confusing.

Waffles sighed, “Look, among family, it’s okay. We don’t care who your soulmate is. But the rest of the world does, okay? Adults don’t know nothin’. They think boys lovin’ boys and girls lovin’ girls is wrong.”

“Would Itey and Snitch get hurt if adults found out?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, kiddo, they would. And that’s why you can’t tell no one, okay, boys? Nobody outside the house finds out and no new kids either ‘till we know we can trust ‘em. Okay?”

“Okay,” they both said, and though, like most people, Itey and Snitch kept their soulmarks covered, as it was something intensely personal and none of anybody’s business, from there, Race started realizing that he should have seen something between them a long time ago.

It was fairly obvious, in how they shared a bed, snuck off occasionally, and sometimes let touches of reassurance or affection linger a bit longer than they probably should.

Race started noticing how the other older kids covered for them. How Skittery would knock something over, allowing them to slip out together under the excuse of not wanting to help him clean it up. How Boots would make a joke to draw attention to himself if they started getting too obvious. How Waffles would take on any new kid thinking of selling with them, himself, so they had an excuse to keep being just the two of them.

It was... nice, in a mushy kind of way that they had that support. And Race didn’t really think seriously about kissing his crushes yet, but he did wonder if he would have that if he did.

Race’s soulmark—the first name of his soulmate that appeared on his wrist on his 10th birthday—was Sean.

It was a boy’s name. That scared Race a little.

But every time he saw the older Manhattan kids go out of their way to make sure nobody noticed Itey and Snitch, he got a little less scared, but still a bit confused

He stopped being scared, at least mostly, when Jack came to him, nervously confessing that he liked girls and boys, and his soulmark said a boy’s name; David. There was something less scary about being different when you didn’t have to be alone in it.

Of course, among the Newsies, finding your soulmate was always a little complicated, because damn near everybody had nicknames. Honestly, Race‘s soulmate could be almost any of his friends for all he knew, but he liked to think he didn’t. He liked to think he’d know immediately if he found him.

Race was 10 when he started selling at Sheepshead, having a deal with a Brooklyn girl, Palomino. She got to use his cuteness for easy sales, and in return, she taught him to weaponize just the right combination of friendliness, flirtation, and annoyance to get people do to pretty much whatever he wanted.

Race asked her when he was 11 what she thought about soulmates, particularly same-sex soulmates. He wanted her opinion because while Palomino was kind of an asshole, there was one thing she was really good at, and that was survival.

And Race wasn’t sure what he thought about the fact that his soulmate was a boy yet, but he knew that just living as someone like that, you had to be careful to survive.

‘Mino just shrugged, “Love is unreliable, Racer. It never does what you want it to and more often than not, it’s a liability. Soulmates ain’t an exception just cause they’s supposed to be together.”

“What about boys lovin’ other boys and girls lovin’ other girls?”

“The fuck did I just say? Love’s a liability. Feelin’s get ya hurt—even more so if those feelin’s is illegal.”

Race struggled to get what he was really asking across, “But if it’s illegal... does that make it wrong?”

‘Mino’s face softened infinitesimally. No one who didn’t know her would even recognize it as softening.

“What did I teach ya, kid? Long as ya don’t get caught, nothin’s illegal. Whether ya love girls or boys or both ain’t my business—it’s still stupid. Now, come on. If we place our bets right, we can both go home with some extra dough.”

Yeah... Race never mastered the whole ‘winning bet-placing’ thing. He never accepted Palomino’s offers to teach him to pickpocket, either, though there were winters where he wished he did.

And he never believed her when she said love was stupid. Because Palomino might have a cynical, angry outlook on life, but Race didn’t. Whenever he asked Waffles or Jack or any of the kids back home in Manhattan, they always said love and soulmates were good things.

Of course, it wasn’t like her opinion mattered anymore. After that winter when Race was 11, he never saw his old mentor again.

Sure, Race didn’t know anything about love besides the platonic bond he had with friends, but he still believed in it with how he saw pairs of his friends fall into it more and more as he got older. Love and soulmates made people happy. That much, he could tell.

Race was 16, Jack was Manhattan’s leader, and he’d been selling at Sheepshead for years when he learned that it wasn’t always that simple.

He and his friend Spot were a little drunk, probably, because Spot had gotten hurt in a fight and hadn’t wanted to drink his cheap booze to dull the pain alone.

Race had met him when he was 12 and Spot was 13, not long after Spot became King of Brooklyn. In the last 4 years, they’d become close friends. He was Race’s best friend, to be honest, besides maybe Albert. Of course, Jack and Crutchie didn’t count because they were more Race’s brothers.

And if Spot was like, really attractive, that didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested in Race. Race didn’t even know if he was interested in boys, period. It was just never something they talked about.

Spot didn’t seem like a Sean, anyway.

“Hey, Spot, buddy, do you ever think about... like... soulmates?” Race asked, trying not to slur his words.

Spot laughed kinda tiredly, “Sometimes. Why?”

“Just ‘cause...” Race tried to think despite his mind being fuzzy, “What do ya think about ‘em?”

Spot just shrugged, “Love’s a liability. Soulmates ain’t an exception.”

“Ooh, I see you’s usin’ Palomino’s philosophy.”

They both laughed.

Was it just the booze making Race slow, or were Spot’s eyes lingering on his lips as he put his cigar in his mouth?

“Oh, Palomino,” he muttered, “That bitch. I ain’t thought about her in a while.”

“That ain’t nice—she’s dead, Spottie.”

“Yeah, which means she ain’t here to care what I say ‘bout her.”

Race’s laugh sounded drunk even to him, “She tried to teach me to pickpocket.”

“She did teach me to pickpocket.”

“Spot, you son of a bitch, you actually let her teach ya to steal?”

“She taught all the younger Brooklyn kids when I was little. She was older and smarter than me, so’s I kinda did whatever she told me. I don’t steal nowadays though, if I can help it. Ain’t worth the trouble with the bulls.”

“She was pretty smart,” Race admitted, “I dunno if she was right ‘bout soulmates, though.”

Spot looked away from Race’s face, taking another swig of alcohol, “She was.”

Race took another sip of his own drink, a bit disappointed, for some reason, “How do ya know?”

“Because Waffles was hers and they both knew it and it just hurt ‘em both.”

“Oh,” Race looked at the floor, “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Spot laughed, “One pair of Newsies actually landed right side up and it was the one where both of ‘em died.”

“That ain’t funny, Spot.”

Race hadn’t thought about ‘Mino in a while, either. Honestly, he hadn’t even thought about Waffles, and that made him sad because they both deserved to be remembered and—

“Hey, hey, Racer, it’s okay. Don’t cry. That was stupid of me.”

Race remembered to hug Spot gently as his friend embraced him. They were drinking for a reason, so Race avoided touching Spot’s ribs. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his neck.

Spot didn’t hug often, but when he did, it felt special. It felt warm and safe, like home.

“I’m sorry, Race, I just... they actually wound up as a girl and a boy and they wasn’t together, but they should’ve been and... I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

“I ain’t gonna cry.”

Spot pulled away enough to look him in the eye to make sure he wasn’t lying.

Race couldn’t say he was sorry that Spot kept holding onto him. Their faces were very close together.

“Do ya really think love is stupid, Spottie?”

Spot shrugged, “Everyone I know what’s in it gets hurt. I mean... you’s seen what it does to Cowboy and Mouth, right? Knowin’ all it would take is one bad person findin’ out ‘bout them.”

“But they makes each other happy,” Race pointed out, “Ain’t that what’s really important?”

“I dunno, just seems easier not to have to worry ‘bout it. Soulmates is just another person who can hurt you or be used against you, and besides— just cause the universe says you’s supposed to be in love don’t mean ya have to. I sure don’t give a damn about whoever mine is.”

Race smiled, tapping the piece of cloth Spot used to cover his soulmark, “What’s the harm in your best friend knowin’, then?”

“Why?” Spot teased, “Hopin’ it’s you?”

“I’m fairly certain it ain’t,” Race said, “We’s known each other for years. If we was soulmates, we’d’ve found out by now. Still, ya never have shown me your mark.”

“You haven’t shown me yours, either.”

“Fair.”

Race thought about it for a second.

“What if we showed ‘em at the same time? I mean, ain’t no harm in it, right? Only one of my close friend’s Marks I ain’t seen is yours.”

“Yeah,” Spot muttered, “Same for me, I guess. Showin’ ‘em at the same time sounds fair.”

“Course it is,” Race let go of him, still staying sitting pretty close, and untied the strip of cloth from his own wrist, “Ready?”

Spot untied his, “Set.”

“Go.”

They showed their soulmarks at the same time. By the time of day, it was almost too dark for Race to read the text on his friend’s wrist.

Almost.

Anthony.

“Shit,” Race mumbled under his breath, “Oh my God.”

Spot was still silent, just staring in shock at the name on Race’s wrist.

Any chance of it being a different Anthony was gone, now, by the look on his face.

“Spot...”

Spot finally looked him in the eye, and Race could see pain there, but also some kind of... relief.

Race knew exactly how he felt. He’d somehow... well, he hadn’t expected it, but it wasn’t surprising, either.

He was glad it was Spot. He was glad it was someone he already knew. Someone he already... already loved.

Race dared to lean a little closer, knowing Spot would read his intentions and pull away if he wanted to.

He didn’t pull away, though his deep breath was shaky.

Their faces were close enough that Race could smell what they’d been drinking on Spot’s breath.

He didn’t see any signs of him not wanting it, so Race leaned forward enough to kiss Spot as softly as he knew how.

For a second, he thought maybe Spot was kissing him back, and then hands were on his shoulders, gently pushing him away.

When Race opened his eyes, his soulmate had an extremely pained look on his face, and he was already grabbing his strip of cloth to cover his wrist again.

“I’m—“

“Don’t be sorry, Race,” he said quietly, “Just... go. You’s gonna have to run for it or you’ll miss the last carriage to hitch a ride home.”

A small part of Race was hurt and angry and wanted to argue that, no, they needed to talk about this and they needed to talk about it now.

But Spot looked agonized enough as it was, and the larger part of Race didn’t want to cause him any more pain.

He stood up and walked all the way back home.

#race and spot are dumbass bois #newsies #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #race x spot #angst #soulmates au #background javid #background snitey #oc: waffles #oc: palomino #violet’s writing

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 4 (3/3)

Alright, this is one of my favorite parts. I love Charles with all myself and even if this story is Arthur-centered I couldn’t leave my baby aside.<3

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/637601250039496704/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-4-13

Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/637872924264693760/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-4-23

Chapter 4 (3/3) - Fears

Words: 3k

As they walked silently one next to the other out of camp and down the hill, Emily with a bucket in her hand and Charles with a stick on his shoulders and two buckets at its ends, he couldn’t not notice the girl’s smile, her light pace, and her childish way to make the bucket swing in her hand. She seemed younger that her actual age and definitely too happy for the situation she was in: if what she had said was true, and she had just lost everything, how could she smile in that way?

“Why are you smiling?” he asked intrigued. “It’s a beautiful day” she stated pointing at the sky, “I have new clothes” she added looking at herself, “and I’m going to take some water at the river. I feel like in a movie.” Then, she turned to look at him right in the eye.

“You should smile more often, you know. It will make you feel better, and I guess you have a great smile” she said.

Charles frowned. There was definitely something wrong with her.

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, you look like someone with a good smile.”

Charles shook his head and the girl giggled.

Then, silence fell and for a moment Charles hoped they would have continued their little trip quietly, but he soon found out she wasn’t a quiet one.

“Why are you with them?” she asked.

“You mean Dutch?”

“Yeah, you seem… I mean, you look like a good man, you all do actually, and I still can’t believe you are criminals. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I know we still don’t know each other, but you haven’t done anything illegal until now. You don’t look… you don’t look like criminals.” “How do criminals look like?”

She took a little before answering, like she had to think about it.

“M-mean and…dangerous.”

Charles smiled and shook his head again. She didn’t know what she was talking about, she didn’t know them, she had no idea of what they had done.

“Aah… see? I knew you had a good smile” she exclaimed moving in front of him and pointing her finger at his face, walking backwards. 

“How old are you?” she asked returning to her place.

“Twenty six.” “And you said you left your father’s house when you were thirteen. This means you’ve been on your own for…”

Charles looked at her as she counted the years on her fingers.

“Exactly thirteen years. What a coincidence. What have you being doing all this time?”

“Surviving.”

“I mean you were just a kid. How did you eat? Where did you sleep?”

“I learned fast how to hunt and built me a tent.”

“And no-one ever asked you what you were doing around all alone?”

“No-one cared.”

Silence fell again. Charles looked at her and this time he saw she had a troubled expression. For some minutes, none of them said anything, and he thought that maybe that was the end of the conversation.

“Thank you for that deer this morning. How did you kill it, by the way?”

He sighed as he understood that she would have never stopped talking. 

“Bow and arrows.”

“Really? Gosh, you’re truly a real Native. Serious and quiet, great hunter, I bet you’re very good with horses too.”

“If you say so.”

Emily giggled again.

“What about Arthur, what is he good at?” she asked then.

Charles studied carefully her profile. She liked him, he could perfectly tell. So what was he going to say? That Arthur was a good outlaw? That he was good at threatening, killing and stealing? Because that was the truth, even though he knew Arthur was a better man than he seemed.

“He’s a good hunter, too.”

That was a lie, Arthur was a decent hunter.

“And a good rider.”

That was the truth.

“And he is a hard worker.”

“Mary-Beth told me he has a journal where he makes some drawings. Do you think he’s a good drawer?”

“Probably.” It seemed that she had run out of questions because she didn’t ask anything else until they reached the river. As Charles took away his boots and folded his trousers to dip into the water, she looked around with that surprised smile on her face like she had never seen a stream, and she probably never did, and just from time to time she would whisper an amazed “wow”. 

She passed him the buckets, one by one, which he filled and gave back to her. They finished soon, he wore his boots again and they left.

“How much time do you think we’re going to spend here?” 

She had started again with the questions, but Charles didn’t want to hurt her feelings telling her to shut up, so he just collected all his patience and answered.

“I don’t know, the time they’ll need to find some money.”

“I like this place, it has a beautiful view. My dad would have loved it, but my mom not so much. She is a city lover and my dad… he decided to live in Saint Denis just for her. His dream was a hut lost in the middle of nowhere and he always tells me that, when he first suggested her to leave the city to find a place like that, she felt so bad that she fainted. She says she owns her white hair to that day.”

Emily let out a laugh so pure, that Charles couldn’t help but smile in turn. Then, her expression changed and just like the day before, her eyes lost the light. She had turned sad again and suddenly Charles felt the need to say something, but he had no idea of what to say. He wasn’t Hosea, he wasn’t good with words. 

When they came back with the water, Tilly immediately noticed something had changed. Emily wasn’t the same, she had an odd look, dark and cloudy. She thanked Charles for his help and then brought one of the buckets to the basin to fill it. Miss Grimshaw came closer with a pile of clothes and told the new girl to wash them. She meekly nodded, taking them from her arms and then turned to look at Tilly.

“How do you wash clothes?” she asked.

Yes, there was definitely something wrong, Tilly could understand it through her voice, and she was oddly worried. She barely knew that girl, she hadn’t given a damn about her until that moment, but now she was suddenly worried. Had Charles done something to her? No, Tilly knew Charles. He was a good man, he wouldn’t do something like that. So what?

“Here, gimme these” she said and took the clothes from her arms.

She put them beside the basin and one by one she showed her how she had to do it. Then, she gave way to her and watched her as she did the work.

“Good, you can do it on your own” she said and did as to stand up, but then she looked at her face and changed her mind.

“What happened at the river? Why you look so sad?” she asked.

“Oh, no, nothing happened. I just… I was thinking about my parents and…”

She shook her head and then gave her a big sad smile.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking” she said as she started to rub the clothes.

...

That time there was no Hosea that could make her feel better and she had to fight with the unhappy thoughts on her own. Tilly had been very kind to her, showing her what to do and asking her what was wrong before she left. 

Washing clothes didn’t help, it reminded her of her home, even though back then she used a washing machine. Probably telling Tilly about the washing machine would have been fun, look at her face as she explained how they had invented something that cleaned the clothes on its own, but she didn’t feel in the mood for conversation, not anymore.

The day passed fast. Help Miss Grimshaw was an adventure: that woman was never happy about anything, if they didn’t do it, she got angry, if they did it but not the way she wanted, she got angry, if they did it all over again, following scrupulously her indications, they were losing too much time and she got angry. 

Emily didn’t complain and with a “yes, Miss Grimshaw” or a “ okay, Miss Grimshaw” did everything she wanted under her careful eyes. She wasn’t lying when she had said she would have punished her for what she had done, the hard work was the proof of it, and accept the punishment without saying a word was the best thing to do.

When the sunset arrived and she finally let her free, Emily reached the campfire and sat on the log to rest her legs. 

“Hi guys” she said to Javier and Micah.

The former had a guitar on his lap and he was fixing it’s cords or something like that, the latter was just seated there looking at the people who from time to time walked in front of him.

“Well, look at you, with your fine new clothes. It seems your getting used to live in 1899” said Micah, but by the tone he was using Emily understood he didn’t really believe she came from the future, it was just a way to mock her.

She didn’t want to be the victim of that prick again and she wanted to answer him something, maybe use a good comeback, a smart one, that could shut his mouth forever. But Emily was no such girl, she didn’t have the wit for comebacks and insults, so she opted for something in her range: ignore him.

During the day she had recovered a little of her usual good humor, and she felt again in the mood for talking and asking questions, and she didn’t waste any time.

“Can you play?” she asked to Javier nodding towards his guitar.

“Ah-ah.”

“Who thought you?”

“No-one. I learned on my own.”

“Cool. Can you also sing?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Well then, I can’t wait to hear something. Do you sing in English or Spanish?”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

Emily looked at Micah as he said those words, feeling like someone had punched her in the stomach. 

“After two days you’re still an asshole” she said to his face, but she could feel her words were insecure and her lips where trembling. She was hurt.

“You expected me to change?”

Emily quickly looked away. Why he had to be like that? Why she was going along with him?

“I’ll take something to eat” she said and stood up.

“Why don’t you bring me something too?” asked Micah.

“Why should I?” she complained crossing her arms on her chest.

She felt insulted and mistreated by that man and she summoned all her strength not to run away and hide in a corner. That little good humor she had recovered got lost again and that day was about to become one of those she just wanted to forget. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were such a touchy type” he sneered.

“I’m not touchy, I just don’t understand why you have to treat me like garbage. What have I done to you?”

“Hey, calm down girl. I was just observing that you are quite a chatterbox. I enjoy the silence.”

“Well you could say it in a kinder way.”

“Okay then, I’ll remember that. Now, would you bring me something to eat, please?” 

Emily fixed her eyes in his. Was he playing with her? Probably. Was she happy to be treated like an idiot? Absolutely not. But at the same time she wanted to be better than him, she wanted to show him that politeness and goodness are the right means to reach a purpose, and maybe in the end she could have changed his way of doing things.

She reached the pot, filled two plates, took two spoons and came back.

“See, with kindness you can obtain everything” she said as she handed the plate to Micah.

At first he frowned at her, like he didn’t believe she had actually done it, but eventually he took the plate and smiled, a true smile, not one of his usual smirks, or at least that’s what Emily wanted to believe.

“Do you want some too, Javier?” she asked to the other man.

“No, thank you” he said as he kept moving his eyes from her to Micah just like he had seen a ghost. “I prefer to eat later” he added.

Emily shrugged and reached the log to sit again and eat.

“So, how is life in the future?” asked Micah leaning forward on his chair. “I mean, is it much different than now?”

He seemed to have lost all that mocking tone he had used with her before and Emily thought it was due to her act of kindness, but she didn’t know Micah and his way to play with those he considered weak. 

“Quite a lot” she said with a piece of potato in her mouth.

“Here is everything so… calm and slow. It takes you a lot to do everything. I’ve just spent two hours washing a bunch of clothes. In my time I need thirty minutes.”

She took another bite before carrying on. Pearson had maintained his promise, the stew was really better that night.

“We live faster, always running, always with something to do, a place to go, someone to meet.”

“It sounds awful” said Javier.

“Actually, it’s not. We’re used to it. And do a lot of things makes you believe you’re doing something with your life, that you’re not wasting time.”

“That is something really wise to say, my dear” said Hosea approaching them and sitting on the log right next to Emily. 

“Is it?” she asked as a smile widened on her lips.

“Trust me, you’re speaking with the wisest man in camp” he joked.

“I’ve missed your wisdom today. I’ve thought about my parents again.”

Hosea nodded and moved on the log to look better at her.

“There is something I can do?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“No, no-one can do anything.” “Think… think about the fact that they are fine. They are home, healthy…”

“They’d be super worried about me right now.”

“But they are fine. That’s what matters.”

Emily nodded and gave him a tiny smile, but she was already feeling better. Following her instinct she leaned forward and put an arm around his neck, holding him tight until she felt one of his shy hands stroking her back. 

“So, you’re telling me that you believe her, old man?” asked Micah and Emily immediately let Hosea go.

She fixed her eyes in his and it gave her the impression he was deeply thinking about his answer.

“Yes, yes I do” he said in the end. 

...

Micah scoffed and shook his head: if that was Hosea’s wisdom it wasn’t much. Then, he took out his gun to polish it, but he had no time to take a rug that he heard a laud gasp and looking up he saw the girl had stood up.

“No, please put that away” she whimpered with her eyes fixed on the pistol.

Micah smirked watching carefully at that pretty face and wondering if she was really such an idiot. She had to be, she had brought him the stew.

“Hey, don’t freak out, girl. I’m just cleaning it” he said.

“No, no put that away. I don’t like it.”

She moved as to go away, but Hosea stopped her.

“Miss Emily, sit, sit down again, please” he said with a soothing voice.

She didn’t move her eyes from Micah’s gun which he started polishing without giving a damn about her stupid fears.

“You afraid of guns?” asked Javier.

The more he saw the more he couldn’t believe how strange that girl was. First, she had brought some stew to Micah, just because he had pretended to speak politely. Second, she talked about her “previous life” and her parents like she really believed in what she was saying, and she had also convinced Hosea about her follies. And finally, she was panicking because Micah took out his gun to clean it, like she didn’t know they were criminals, which meant they did far worse things with guns than polishing them.

“Listen, you know what we are” said Hosea as she sat again.

“Yes.”

“You know what we do.”

“I-I imagine.”

“There is no need for you to be scared of us.”

“I’m not scared of you, I don’t like firearms. They are dangerous. Too dangerous.”

“As you can see we all have one. Some of us two. If you freak out every time we polish one, you’ll run away by the end of the week.”

“Maybe she can try to hold one” suggested Javier. He had learned that facing his own fears helped to overcome them.

“Do you feel like doing it?” asked Hosea.

She looked at them with her big eyes which seemed even bigger under the light of the fire.

“I-I don’t know” she answered in the end.

“Here, look” said Hosea.

He wanted to help her. If she was afraid of guns she was vulnerable, especially in a place where everybody was used to point one to your face for no real reason. He took out his pistol and showed her.

“It’s unloaded, so there’s nothing to worry about” he reassured her.

She kept staring at it, but did nothing, so he reached out a hand and took her plate, pushing the gun in her hands instead. 

“Oh… it’s heavy” she whispered.

Then, with a little trembling hand she brushed a finger on the engraved steel and hinted a smile.

“Did you choose the engravings?” she asked.

“Ah-ah” he affirmed.

“W-well, i-it’s nice. Can you take it back?” she asked and handed it over like she was holding a hand grenade. 

Hosea chuckled and gave her the plate back.

“Maybe one day you’ll learn how to use one” he said.

“Never.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #Charles Smith #tilly jackson #javier escuella #micah bell #hosea matthews

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 13: Rock Band

Patton is the most popular boy in school, yet he can’t get the attention of his three crushes. When he learns that they’re all starting a band together, he becomes determined to make their dreams come true. Patton POV, endgame LAMP 

TW: Use of homophobic slur

Day 12 | Masterlist | Day 14

Patton Picani liked to think that he had superpowers. He could sway almost any person to be kind with just a smile. He could ask one question and topple an entire social norm. He could transform a nobody into a somebody with just a few words. It was his superpower, the ability to effortlessly sway the masses.

The truth was… complicated. Or rather, it was a series of scenarios and lessons that gave Patton this ‘superpower.’ The people who gave them to him? His parents, Emile and Remy Picani.

Emile and Remy loved their son very much and taught them everything they knew. This wasn’t a bad thing; Patton soaked up the lessons like a sponge. But the parents each had different things to teach him. Emile taught Patton everything he knew as a therapist so he could avoid conflicts. How to tell what someone’s feeling, what to say when someone’s upset, etc. Remy taught Patton how to grow up in a world turned against him. How to tell the difference between real and fake friends, how to lie with a straight face, how to spot a bully, etc. Emile helped Patton be confident in expressing himself with pastel colors and skirts. Remy helped Patton never lose a game of poker. So before Patton even started elementary school, he knew how to use his ‘superpowers.’

Patton also learned things on his own throughout the years. He learned that bullies were feared but not trusted. He learned that teacher’s pets would tell on you at a moment’s notice. He learned how to control the rumor mill, and which friends would stab him in the back. So in their tiny town with only three elementary schools, two middle schools, and one high school, Patton rose to power quickly. But Patton wouldn’t abuse his power. No, Patton tried to make a difference. He offered teacher’s pets protection and popularity in exchange for getting bullies suspended. He kept the rumor mill focused on the popular kids and away from the nobodies that couldn’t protect themselves. He ruined the lives of violent jocks and snotty rich kids with a few words and a disapproving frown. Bullying reached an all-time low, and by the time Patton was in high school he was the ‘friend’ of almost everyone in the city under the age of 21 (and all their parents. Patton was a model citizen, no one could dislike him).

But there was a cost for Patton’s power. Even though he was technically ‘friends’ with everyone, he didn’t have any actual friends. Everyone thought they were his friend, but after a while, everyone’s faces started to look the same. And even when they did catch Patton’s attention, they were usually too far down the social ladder for Patton to be more than casual acquaintances with.

There were exactly three people that caught Patton’s attention, and they just so happened to be his three crushes.

The first crush came in the form of Roman Prince. Like the name implied, Roman was a Disney Prince in terms of charisma and charm. He was in every school theatre production, and almost always the lead role. He would have been a popular kid, if not for his rivalry against Janice Mayberry. Janice had been at the top of the social ladder just as long as Patton had. She was extremely pretty, and a cheerleader to boot, so not even Patton’s influence could top the sheer power she held. So outside of the theatre group, Roman was a nobody. But Roman was also daring, and just, and drop-dead gorgeous. Patton attended every single play and musical, just to see Roman on stage. But beyond giving Roman a brief ‘congratulations’ at the end of each production, Patton couldn’t talk to him.

Patton could interact with his other crush a little more. Logan Berry was the definition of a nerd. He was in all advanced classes, he wore ties, he never got below 95% on any test. But he wasn’t a teacher’s pet. Actually, most teachers here hated Logan, for the simple fact that Logan would not let mistakes slide by. If a teacher said something wrong during a lesson, Logan spoke up. If a teacher graded something unfairly, Logan spoke up about it. The teachers always tried to report Logan for his ‘attitude,’ but the truth was he didn’t have an attitude. Logan only stated facts, and he kept his hand up politely while never having any sort of inflection in his tone. There were only a hand full of people that could make him show emotion, hence the nickname ‘robot.’ Patton wanted to speak up about the nickname, but he knew it would only draw more attention to Logan. But Logan wasn’t emotionless. He was kind, and patient, and helpful. Patton had needed help in his math classes, and his parents paid Logan to be his tutor. Patton ignored the fact the Logan was being paid to interact with him. Logan was extremely good with explanations, even when Patton couldn’t wrap his head around a concept. After a few weeks of math tutoring, Patton asked for help with English. One thing led to another, and they were basically study-buddies (with, you know, one of them being paid). But outside of study sessions, Patton couldn’t talk to him.

Then there was Virgil Storm. Virgil had transferred to their high school halfway through Freshman year. He was a loner, never seen hanging out with anyone. But something about him immediately drew in Patton’s attention. Maybe it was the (confirmed) rumors of Virgil getting kicked out of other schools due to fights. Maybe it was the way that his lips quirked every time he got a question right in class. Or maybe it was the way he looked in gym class, hoodie off and muscles exposed. Whatever the reason, Patton had been drawn to Virgil. Even if they had never spoken to each other. Well, until now.

It was September of Sophomore year, and Patton had been strolling down the hallway, minding his own business. He normally didn’t eat lunch at school, so he used this time to interact with teens outside of classes.

Crash!

Patton’s head whipped around, seeing a student shoved into the lockers. Now, that wouldn’t do at all. Patton quickly made his way to the fight, quickly recognizing the two teens. Virgil was on the ground with a bloody lip, while Jacob Smith stood over him. Jacob was captain of the football team, if Patton remembered correctly. Patton frowned as he noticed several of his ‘friends’ stand in the background but not help Virgil.

“Jacob!” Patton stepped between Virgil and Jacob, effectively pulling everyone’s attention towards him. Patton put on his best ‘disappointed’ expression. “Why are you hurting him?”

Jacob frowned. “He deserved it, Patton!”

Patton tilted his head slightly, making sure he kept the wide-eyed, innocent look. “What did he do?”

Jacob growled. “He’s a faggot that deserves to rot in Hell!”

Patton used all of his self-control to not show any of his shock. He didn’t know Jacob was such a homophobe. To use slurs and hurt a kid for being gay? That won’t do at all. Patton kept his curious look. “What does ‘faggot’ mean? Does it mean he’s a meanie?” Poor, innocent Patton wouldn’t know what that word meant. And Jacob Smith just sullied poor Patton’s mouth with those words. At least, that’s what everyone else thought.

Everyone stood in silence before someone spoke up. “It means he’s gay!” Patton couldn’t figure out who said that, but he mentally thanked them for giving him the perfect opening.

“So he got hit because he’s gay?” Patton hunched over slightly, pulling out all the stops for his ‘innocent, defenseless little lamb’ look.

Jacob smirked, glad to see that Patton was catching on. “Yeah, he deserves to be beat until he learns his lesson!”

Patton let his lip quiver as he summoned his crocodile tears. “B-but I’m gay!” While this wasn’t extremely common knowledge, it was extremely implied through Patton’s mannerisms and style of dress. Patton let the tears pour out. Several students started to approach as they caught on to what Patton was implying. “A-are you gonna b-beat me too?”

Jacob seemed to realize his mistake. “Pat-” He moved in to wrap his arms around Patton.

Patton flinched in (fake) fear, throwing his hands over his head. Still, what he yelled was loud and clear. “NO, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!” Several students grabbed Jacob by the arms and dragged him away.

Janice approached Patton now, making sure to put some distance between them. “Are you okay, Pat?”

Patton let out a shaky sigh before lowering his arms. He gave Janice a wobbly smile. “Y-yeah. I’m gonna go wash my face in the bathroom. Can you go make sure Jacob doesn’t try this again?” Janice nodded, slinking off to wherever Jacob was dragged to. Now that all of the crowd was focused on Jacob, Patton turned his attention to Virgil. He was staring up at Patton with a mixture of awe and… fear? “C’mon, let’s go get cleaned up.” Virgil nodded mutely, getting up on his own. He grabbed his bag and a case of some sort (he probably dropped them when Jacob attacked him) before following Patton to the nearest bathroom. Patton grabbed some paper towels and got them wet before handing them to Virgil, who sat on the counter of the sinks. “Here, for your lip.” Virgil accepted it silently, dotting his lip to stem the bleeding. “I could take you to the nurse if you want.” Virgil shook his head no and Patton shrugged, moving to fix his makeup.

“Is it true?” Patton’s head shot up and Virgil looked away with a blush, hiding his face in his hoodie. “That you’re… um…”

Patton finished the question. “That I’m gay?” Virgil nodded, still blushing. “Yeah, I am. Are you also gay, or was Jacob accusing you of being gay for no reason?” Because if Virgil wasn’t gay, then that was an entirely different can of worms to deal with (one of which being Patton’s crush on him).

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, Jacob had seen my phone screen with me and my boyfriends.”

Patton tilted his head. He didn’t know that Virgil had boyfriends. “Can I see?” Virgil nodded, slowly taking out his phone to show Patton the lock screen. Logan, Roman and Virgil all stared at him, huddled under a mass of blankets. Patton felt his heart constrict at the fact that all of his crushes were dating each other so Patton didn’t have a chance, and smiled. “Awe, you look so cute together!” He moved to resume working on his makeup and accidentally bumped Virgil’s case with his foot. “What do you have in there?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Virgil blushed. “It’s a guitar. Me and my boyfriends were gonna practice after school.”

Patton let his eyebrows raise in shock. “You guys play guitar?”

Virgil turned even redder. “I do. Roman does bass and Logan does drums. We have a small band called The Sides. It’s nothing really.”

Patton’s eyes lit up. “You have a band? That’s so cool! Do you play at parties?” Patton hadn’t been to many parties lately.

Virgil sighed. “No, not yet. I don’t think we’ll ever be good enough for that.”

Patton shook his head. “I bet you are! Do you know how awesome it would be to have a live band at your party instead of some lame DJ? I promise, once you start promoting yourself, people will be begging to hire you!” Suddenly, the bell went off, signaling the end of lunch. “Oh, I’ve gotta go. See you later!”

Patton made a note to bring up playing instruments with Logan during their next study session. Even if Patton could never be romantically involved with his crushed, he could still make them happy. And if that meant pulling a few strings to make them the most popular music group in school?

Well, Patton was willing to pull a few strings for them.

#sanders sides #AU_gust_2020 #rock band au #LAMP #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #fem janus

[shining-red-diamond]

Ch. 19: The Elephant’s Trunk

Cast of Characters//Ch. 1//Ch. 2//Ch. 3//Ch. 4//Ch. 5//Ch. 6//Ch. 7//Ch. 8//Ch. 9//Ch. 10//Ch. 11//Ch. 12//Ch. 13//Ch. 14//Ch. 15//Ch. 16//Ch. 17//Ch. 18//Ch. 19//Ch. 20//Ch. 21//Ch. 22//Ch. 23//Ch. 24//Ch. 25//Ch. 26//Ch. 27//Ch. 28 (coming soon)

Words: 0.8k

Pairing: ATEEZ OT8 x OCs

Genre: Adventure, Pirate AU

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: small accident, blood, slight angst

A/N: Italics means they’re speaking Korean

The ship landed in India within a few hours, but the crew decided not to head out until the wee hours of the morning as to avoid being noticed. San and Celestia spent the entire evening in their bedchambers before going to bed. Everyone else stuck to mapping out the coordinates according to the area surrounding the sacred symbol of the country. It was a bit of a struggle without San’s aid, but Hongjoong managed to figure out where to start according to the notes provided in the old map.

“It’s heavily populated in the surrounding area,” Hongjoong said, “so we’ll have to stay out of sight as much as possible.”

“I’ve already made sure the security systems can’t detect us sneaking into the tunnels,” Phoebe replied.

“I double checked our path. We won’t be going anywhere near the walls of the place. Thanks for checking, Phoebe.”

“It’s not in the Taj Mahal?” Mingi asked.

“No,” Hongjoong said. “The maps point to a tunnel starting from across the river. They lead to tunnels underneath that open up to something. We won’t be going into the building itself.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t get fried this time,” Taeran groaned.

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about bombs,” Dahae added as she was looking through a large book. “If our path does end up being near the site, there’s a chance we’ll run into some monkeys.”

“Why monkeys?” Yunho asked.

“These aren’t cute little Capuchin monkeys. These are much more vicious.”

Hongjoong double-checked the map. “Our path doesn’t go near it, just underneath. However, we still need to take our precautions as we go.”

The crew then finished getting supplies together for the next part of their quest. Dahae checked with San and Celestia to see if they had everything they needed, Dinah took some painkillers to ease her cramps, Hongjoong finalized any notes with Yeosang and Seonghwa, and everyone else strapped on their boots. Grace-Anne wanted to pack a snack, but Dahae stopped her and reminded her about the possibility of attracting the monkeys.

Once Yunho had activated the camouflage shield, the crew headed out into the tropical climate. The weather was hot, but no sign of sunshine. Stone gray clouds blanketed the morning sky. The crew headed straight for a jungle area where a large tree trunk was said to be marked with an elephant’s head, according to the maps. Dahae hoped that it meant the head was a drawing and not a huge skull.

Journeying into the jungle was a little troubling beginning with Mingi getting his foot caught in a vine and falling face first, making Taeran stop to cut him free. Yeosang kept wanting to stop and cut pieces of different plants to study for medicines, which earned him hand swats to get him away from them. Dinah started cramping again and nearly lost her temper at Wooyoung for something minor, and then Yunho started his complaints of the weather being too hot and getting tired of carrying the maps (he was only carrying one).

“Would you guys knock it off already?” Hongjoong snapped.

“Sorry, I forgot my painkillers,” Dinah sassed back as she tried to stand back up from doubling over.

“I’m not talking about your lady cramps. I mean, just stay focused right now.”

His eyes met Dahae’s, and the look she gave him was all he needed to chill out. He knew he shouldn’t get upset over a small inconvenience happens, but he couldn’t help if he was short with his crewmates. He hated that he was such a perfectionist at times, and it caused him to get into arguments with them. Hongjoong liked to keep a schedule, however, he had to constantly remind himself that it’s not a homework assignment that needs to be due by a certain day at a certain time.

“Let’s…keep going,” the captain managed to instruct as he calmed down.

Not even two seconds later, he trips and falls against something hard, causing him to land in a kneeling position. When he stood up, he noticed his blood was dripping onto a cut tree trunk. As he looked closer while checking to find the source of the bleeding, he noticed how oddly shaped the age rings were. They formed weird shapes almost to mimic an animal’s head.

“The elephant’s trunk,” Dahae figured it out as she pulled out a rag. “This is our entrance.”

“And all it took was for the captain to pancake face first into it,” Dinah chuckled to Grace-Anne. Dahae shot her look, and Dinah shut her mouth.

Yeosang inspected the trunk, his gloved hands detecting any sign of an opening until his foot slipped on something slippery, and he landed on his butt. A cold, stone covering had given out underneath Yeosang and went tumbling down a set of stone steps.

#kwritersworldnet #foratiny #atzinc #kpopuniversenet #kconnet #kdiner #kdiarynet #starryktown #kpopficsnetwork #ateez #atz #ot8 x oc #ateez pirate au #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

[thewatermelloncat]

Unimaginable Things   (Part 1)

Summary: The Hargreaves siblings have never really gotten along, but now they need to more than ever with the apocalypse looming. And with Five’s immune system compromised from time travel, hopefully they can come together to help him because if they can’t, what chance do they have of standing together against their impending doom?

Author’s Note: I wrote this fanfiction over a year ago now, but I wanted to post something Umbrella Academy related after just finishing Season 2, though I’m still waiting for inspiration to strike. I thought this might do nicely in the meantime as a bit of nostalgia, going back to the days I only specialised in sicifcs. How far we’ve come…

Warnings: This loosely follows the storyline of SEASON 1, so it contains SPOILERS for around EPISODE 3.

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

Hours upon hours of watching and waiting for any sign of life to disappear into MeriTech is starting to wear on him. Five arches his shoulders in an attempt to crack the stiffness out of his back then settles back down into the driver’s seat, bracing his elbow on the door below the window. He pulls his wrist up to sniffle wetly into his sleeve and grimaces as he swallows at the ache in his throat. Now is really not the time to be getting sick, he knows that.

He also knows that the headache he is sporting now isn’t only brought on by the time travel. It hurt to hold his eyes up straight ahead, so he settles for leaning his head back against the window feeling the cool glass on his skin and allowing his gaze the flow under his dark lashes.

Beginning to zone out and almost tipping towards the threat of sleep, he observes as a group of kids his age, well he would appear to be their age, walk in front of the van. He hates to admit it, he has a far greater purpose than partaking in immature and juvenile activities, but he is jealous that he missed out on the rest of his childhood. Well his childhood in general.

Pain spikes in his head and he draws his eyes away, closing them tightly. When he opens them again, he can no longer see the street. Buildings had toppled over, their rubble spilling over the roads and pavements. Fires around him intensify the heat of his fever. That must be it, he couldn’t be back. It must be some kind of fever dream - but he didn’t think he was that sick.

Maybe the Handler found him a brought him back here as a punishment for escaping her. He turns around his breath grating rapidly through his chest in panic, but he can’t see her, he can’t see anyone. Panic consumes him and he starts to yell something out before a faint voice calls something to him, drawing him back.

Gasping in a breath, the smoke of the apocalypse clears away. “Five?” he turns to Luther calling his name from outside, knocking on the door. He withdraws his gaze and looks straight ahead, trying to compose himself as his brother struggles to fit into the car.

“You okay?” Luther asks, leaning back in the too small seat.

“You shouldn’t be here” Five snarls. He needed to be alone for this. “How did you find me?”

Five follows Luther’s eyes to the rear-view mirror seeing Klaus’s reflection dancing in the back of the van with Delores. “Hey guys a little privacy, we’re already hitting it off back here” Klaus whines before dodging the empty coffee cup Five throws at him.

“Get out! You can’t be here, I’m in the middle of something!” he wouldn’t have missed if his head didn’t hurt so badly.

Klaus ignores him as he comes up to kneel behind his brothers. “Any luck finding your one-eyed man?”

“What’s he talking about?” Luther interrupts shooting Five a confused look.

“Doesn’t matter it’s Klaus” Five dismisses. “What do you want Luther?”

“Uh, so Grace may have had something to do with Dad’s death. So, I need you to come back to the Academy” Luther explains. “It’s important.”

“It’s important” Five repeats in a mocking tone, “you have no concept of what’s important.”

He zones out looking out through the window at passing cars thinking about how inconvenient this situation is. It’s only when Luther mentions that Klaus should leave the van that he returns to the conversation. “Luther’s got a point you can get out” he affirms much to his brother’s annoyance.

“Fine!” Klaus shouts as he slams the door and wonders off.

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

“What are you up to Five?” Luther demands looking back to his brother in the driver’s seat.

“Believe me you wouldn’t understand” Five discards quickly.

“Try me. Last time I checked I was still the leader of this family.”

“Well last time I checked, I’m 28 years older than you” Five defends, allowing a patronising tone seep into his voice.

“You know what your problem is?” Luther lowers his voice.

“I’m really hoping you’ll tell me” Five says his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You think you’re better than us. You always have. Even when we were kids.” The pauses between Luther’s sentences put Five on edge. “But the truth is you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. We’re all you have. And you know it.”

“I don’t think I’m better than you are, I know I am.”

Luther huffs and smiles shaking his head to himself.

If only he could see the things Five has done, then he’d understand. “I’ve done unimaginable things, things that you couldn’t even comprehend.”

“Right” Luther passes over.

“Just to get back and save you all” Five finishes in time for Klaus to run out of the store arms full of his stolen goods.

“Hey bitches!” he yells at them as he runs across the street.

“I’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision” Five wants to blame it on him not feeling well, but he knew even then he and Luther should have known it was a terrible idea to leave Klaus unsupervised.

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

The boots Allison wore echo every step as she paces throughout the lounge. She hadn’t expected a quick trip, especially not with Klaus involved, but she had thought that they’d have brought Five back sooner.

She sighs in relief when she hears the main door open and a group of footsteps make their way through the hallway. Hurrying out under the archway she makes her way towards the base of the stairs to greet them.

“HaRIsshoo!” a harsh sneeze sounds from around the corner where she can’t see.

“Bless you” she condemns as Luther steps into view.

“That wasn’t me” he dismisses as Five appears from behind him, nose still buried in the crook of his arm.

Allison draws her head back, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Thinking, how could a sound so strong come from something so small? Then she has to remind herself that he isn’t actually 13 anymore. But he looks so small now with his reddish nose and unnaturally slumped posture. Luther catches her looking at Five in concern and returns her with a knowing look of his own.

“Everyone else is in the lounge” she says without thinking, her eyes still looking into Luther’s. She’s vaguely aware of Klaus muttering that he needs a drink and brushing past them toward the bar.

“I’m going upstairs to do more calculations” Five mumbles, not looking at either of the glances his brother and sister give him, before heading slowly up the stairs.

Allison looks back at Luther as he watches Five disappear. By the way he doesn’t object to his leaving she assumes he doesn’t mind his sudden absence. Knowing that Five isn’t keen on attending the meeting anyway, Luther figures that it’s probably best to leave him alone considering he’s getting sick. He could be irritable even when he was healthy.

Part 2

#umbrella acedmy #five hargreeves #five #the boy #sickfic #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves

[ladylynse]

Part 7 of Passageway [FF | AO3]

The Fenton Ghost Portal in the basement lab is empty, broken. Instead, the portal is inside Danny–and even when he knows something’s coming, he can’t stop it. (Danny as the ghost portal AU)

(Beginning | Previous)

-|-

Crud.

This had been a bad idea.

He didn’t know what he was doing. This was definitely a bad idea. He shouldn’t have left until he had a plan. He knew his leaving would put the others in danger, and now he didn’t even have a good place to hide. What had he been thinking? He didn’t have the energy to run very far or very fast, and he needed to move. He’d been so stupid. When he got recaptured, things would just be that much worse—

Danny coughed.

A few steps later, he coughed again.

As realization dawned, cold fear wasn’t the only thing clawing at his throat.

No. This was bad. This was very bad. He couldn’t do this now. It left him exhausted at the best of times, and it’s not like he had his phone to call Sam or Tucker despite the danger it would put them in, and—

Danny choked and staggered up the street. He was too exposed. Couldn’t do this here. There might be cameras. Or the shifter. Couldn’t risk anyone seeing.

He was gasping, unable to draw air.

He stumbled through an empty parking lot, trying to make it to the dumpster on the far side.

Any cover was better than this.

The coughing continued and turned into choked heaves.

He couldn’t breathe.

Danny fell to his knees in the shadow of the dumpster, retching and heaving and just trying to get it out—

Darkness.

More darkness.

Danny couldn’t tell what it was anymore. Outside his head, inside his head, out of his mouth or always there or just from the spots swirling in front his eyes….

“Hey, kid.”

Danny groaned. He could breathe again. Was it really over? Had it stopped? His jaw hurt, and his throat was raw, but all of that could have been from before, so maybe—?

“Kid. Wake up.”

A boot toed his side. Gently, thankfully. Danny rolled onto his back—again, he couldn’t remember lying down—and opened his eyes, staring up at the night sky.

At the edge of his vision, he could see a blackness deeper than the rest of the night.

He blinked.

It didn’t go away.

“You gonna be okay?” the voice asked again, and Danny turned his head slightly. After a split second, the boy’s smudged face resolved into that of a rather sickly-looking teenager, someone closer to Jazz’s age than his.

“I dunno.” He still ached all over, he was still exhausted, and hungry and thirsty and whatever else, but he wasn’t…. He didn’t think he felt as bad as he should feel, given that he’d been kidnapped for— Was this really only the second night he’d been gone? Had it only been twenty-four hours? Maybe even less?

“You okay enough to help my girlfriend?”

Danny wasn’t sure he felt okay enough to sit up yet. “No?”

He heard a whistle and then something that was undoubtedly a command: “Shadow, help me with him.”

It was a sign of how much he’d been through by now that Danny didn’t scream when the darkness moved and curled around him. He leaned into it, letting it lift him off the ground and deposit him in a standing position. He staggered, and the shadow returned to steady him. He wasn’t sure if the face he thought he saw grinning up at him was imagined. Hallucinating at this point might be normal, right?

The nearest streetlight flickered out.

Yup, perfectly normal.

“You’re doing better now, right?” the teen pressed, despite vast evidence to the contrary. Danny hadn’t thought anyone could look anxious while lounging against a motorcycle, but this guy managed it. “I miss my girl.”

“I can’t….” He didn’t have time for this. He needed to hide. He moved his arms, his shoulders, in something that might be construed as a shrug by the generous. “I don’t have time to help you look for her. I’ve gotta…. I need to go.”

“No, no, you can’t go!”

One cold hand wrapped around Danny’s arm, and he suddenly realized what he hadn’t before.

“She’s stuck on the other side. If I can’t get back to her right now, I need her over here.”

Danny stared at him. Part of him wanted to cry, but he felt too worn out to do even that. Just…. Couldn’t he catch a break?

“I’m Johnny, Johnny 13, that’s Shadow, and Kitty…. She’s the best girl, my Kitty. You can’t separate us like this.”

“I can’t…. I can’t do this right now.” Danny tried to shove at the shadow and pull away, but it tightened around him again, still substantial in a way it shouldn’t be substantial.

“Look, I’ll help you,” Johnny said. “You said you need to go somewhere, right? I’ll take you there. And you can repay me for the ride by getting my girl to me.”

“I don’t….” Maybe flat out refusing to help a ghost when the ghost’s friend—or pet ghost or whatever Shadow was—had him in what could very easily become a stranglehold was a bad idea. “I can’t right away.” He wasn’t sure he could help later, wasn’t sure he’d want to help later, but later was better than now. “Someone’s hunting me down.” If he’d been thinking more clearly, he might not have put it that bluntly, but it was too late now. “I need to hide from them and figure out a way to help my friends and family.”

Danny saw Johnny’s eyes flick down to the cuffs still visible on his wrists—Shadow had avoided covering them—and nod. “I’ll help you. In exchange for being with my girl.”

“I….” Agreeing and not being able to deliver would just make his situation worse. “I can’t promise anything beyond trying.” That was safe enough, right? Not that he wanted to try, exactly, but….

“Climb on, kid.” Johnny moved aside, and Shadow pushed Danny forward. He stumbled, and the older teen—ghost—helped him onto his motorcycle.

Danny was rather glad he didn’t remember that coming through.

His perch on the motorcycle in front of Johnny wasn’t precarious, but Danny didn’t have a helmet, and he’d survived too many years of his dad’s driving to not really regret that. Also seat belts. And, frankly, being able to hold onto something properly.

He used to think he’d love to own his own motorcycle.

He was fairly sure he still would, but he was absolutely sure that he hated the fact that he wasn’t in control of this particular ride.

“Where are we headed?” Johnny yelled in his ear as they sped down the street. Danny had had him turn left, away from the docks, but now….

Now, it was very evident that he didn’t have a plan.

“I…I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t know! I need to hide, but I don’t know where!”

Silence but for the roar of the motorcycle and the wind.

“Been a while since I’ve been through here,” Johnny said at last. “The public library. That still the same building?”

Danny had absolutely no idea. Jazz practically lived there, but the only library he went to was the school one, and he only went there when he had to. “Maybe?”

“We’ll risk it.”

Johnny took a sharp turn and then pulled back on the handlebars. Danny shrieked as the motorcycle lifted into the air and he was thrown back against Johnny. He scrambled for what handhold he could, but with his hands still cuffed—

The motorcycle hovered in the air. By this point, Danny didn’t know whether it could do that because of Shadow or because Johnny 13 was a ghost and he could just do that. Right now, Danny didn’t really care. He was much more preoccupied by the fact that this skyward detour made it more likely that the shifter would track him down sooner rather than later. A flying motorcycle wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

“Why’d you do that?” Danny hissed, and Johnny jabbed a finger into his shoulder and then pointed. It took Danny a moment to get his bearings and realize that, yes, that was the flag that flew over the public library. “Yeah, that’s still the library, but wh—?”

He didn’t get a chance to finish before they were suddenly plummeting towards the earth again.

It was not like a roller coaster.

It would have been so much better if it had been like a roller coaster.

As it was, Danny probably would’ve flown clean off the motorcycle if Johnny hadn’t wrapped one arm around him just as the plunge started.

If Johnny hadn’t kept his arm around Danny’s middle, he might’ve tried to jump off anyway once it became painfully clear that they were headed for the library and Johnny wasn’t about to slow down.

The motorcycle was moving entirely too quickly toward the stone wall of the corner lot building, something that was solid brick at the base with windows higher up, and Danny hoped fervently that his assumptions about ghosts and their powers weren’t wrong.

And then he remembered what Sidney had told him.

“I can’t go through the wall!” he screamed, and some distant part of his mind was aware that that wouldn’t be enough. Of course Johnny would think that Danny thought he couldn’t go through a wall. He wasn’t a ghost, after all. He wouldn’t be used to that kind of thing. “These handcuffs are immune to a ghost’s ability to do that!” Would that make sense? He didn’t really have time to try again. “Let me off!”

Danny’s panic continued, and it got less intelligible, but Johnny swerved the motorcycle before they hit the wall anyway. Not that Danny saw him do that. He had his eyes closed by that point, busy babbling and praying to whoever would listen to let him keep the use of his hands after the handcuffs were ripped off of him.

When Danny did open his eyes, it was to tire tracks burnt onto brick. The imagined flip must not have been so imagined after all. His stomach turned just thinking of what had nearly happened, and he leaned to one side and heaved. Bile burned its way up his throat. Johnny yelped, and the bike’s shadow shifted out of the way as stomach acid dribbled from Danny’s mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he managed, coughing and trying to spit the last of it free. “I…. I just….” Another heave, this time dry. He sucked in a shuddering lungful of air. He was shaking. When had he started shaking?

“Easy there, kid.” Johnny patted him awkwardly on the back. “You’re fine.”

“You don’t need to keep calling me a kid, you know,” Danny said finally. He kept his gaze firmly on the ground, just in case his stomach decided it wasn’t done. “I’m only a couple of years younger than you are.”

“That’s what you think?”

“Pretty sure I’m not wrong.” He was starting to feel better now, so Danny tried to wipe his mouth on his shoulder—it was dirty already anyway—before twisting around to face Johnny. “Look, I appreciate the ride, and I get that you miss your girlfriend, but I’ve got some stuff I need to deal with before I can help you.”

“Starting with those, right?” Johnny asked, pointing at the cuffs. Danny hesitated and then nodded; his family and friends were more important, but he couldn’t really do anything if he couldn’t even use his hands. “Pull up a clean patch of grass. I’ll teach you how to get out of those.”

“Um….”

“Unless you want to keep them on. Just seems like it might be a necessary life skill for you, from what I’ve seen. But you can leave them on. I don’t have to show you the spot Kitty and I would sneak off to, even if it would be a nice place to cool your heels and hide out.”

Danny blinked. “Wait. You two—? In the library?” He glanced down at the handcuffs. “Oh, man, I did not need to know that. I think I would rather that you knew how to get out of these for criminal reasons.”

Johnny grinned at him and pulled a paperclip out of his pocket. “Never said I didn’t, kid. Now, if you’ve got a thin bit of metal on you, you can do it the easy way….”

It was…nice, taking the time to breathe. To stop and do this, even with everything he had hanging over his head. And, well, it was really nice to get the full use of his arms back once Johnny had freed him.

Danny was taking full advantage of being able to stretch again, knitting his fingers together and pushing them skyward and then pulling them apart and rolling his shoulders and thrusting his hands behind his back—

He had really taken this for granted before.

He was not going to forget how good this felt. He wasn’t going to let the shifter ghost get the better of him again, either. He’d bury the cuffs—couldn’t just pocket them if he was going to let Johnny pull him through the wall, and he wasn’t about to throw them out in case he needed them later—and then he could figure out how to get a message to his family and friends, something that only they’d understand in case the shifter intercepted it, and—

“Danny?”

That was Jazz’s voice.

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t know if it really was Jazz.

“I thought…. We thought…. Oh, little brother, are you okay?”

It sounded like Jazz.

And the person who rushed towards him and wrapped him in a hug certainly looked and felt and smelled like her, too.

Danny tried to twist in her grip, to see if Johnny had vanished like Sidney had earlier. He caught sight of the ghost leaning against his motorcycle again, arms folded as he watched their reunion. Assuming it really was a reunion. There was no attempt to knock him out this time, but they weren’t alone, either, and—

Danny finally pushed Jazz away, ignoring the hurt expression on her face. “I need to go,” he said. “I’ll explain later.” He couldn’t afford to make a mistake and tell the shifter his plan. Not that he really had a plan. If this was the ghost who had kidnapped him, the cat was already out of the bag. But that didn’t mean he had to make it even easier for them.

“What’s going on?”

“I said I’ll explain later.”

“But….” She was shaking her head. “No, seriously, Danny. Look at you. You look awful. And you smell.”

Maybe it really was Jazz.

“Ghosts are real,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, little brother—”

“What’s the name of your stuffed lion?”

She blinked. “Did you hit your head?”

He couldn’t tell if she was avoiding the question.

“I know this sounds weird, but if you answer me, I’ll explain now instead of later.”

“Danny, you’re scaring me.”

“Please, Jazz. Your stuffed lion?”

“I don’t have a stuffed lion. I have a stuffed bear. You know that. He’s called Bearbert Einstein for a reason. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

Danny let out a sigh of relief and turned to Johnny. “She’s safe. I’m sure of it. Can we take her, too?”

Johnny smirked. “We can make room.”

“Wait, who’s—?”

But Danny had already tossed the Fenton Cuffs into the bushes, grabbed Jazz’s hand with his left, and reached for Johnny with his right. He tugged Jazz forward, trying to shush her even as she ignored him and tried to pull away. Instead of taking his hand, Johnny nodded towards his motorcycle, and Danny put a hand on it instead as Johnny climbed on and started it up.

“Danny,” Jazz hissed, still twisting her arm in an attempt to escape his grip, “what the heck is going on?”

“It’ll be easier to explain if you come with us,” he said, and she huffed but stopped fighting him.

At least, she stopped fighting him until it became all too clear that Johnny—for all that the motorcycle was moving forward slowly enough that Danny could keep pace with it while walking—was heading for the wall.

“What—?”

Danny shushed her again, adding a kick for good measure. Jazz paused long enough to kick him back, and then Danny felt that…that feeling wash over him. Not cold, exactly. Light, maybe. Detached. Distant.

Johnny’s motorcycle passed through stone.

Still walking, one hand still on the motorcycle and the other keeping a death grip on Jazz, Danny followed, dragging his sister with him.

(see more fics | next)

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp fanfiction #phanfiction #dp au #ghost portal!danny #ghost portal!danny fenton #fanfiction #jazz fenton #johnny 13 #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #dp snippet

[rollingaroundin-bread]

Are y’all ever just reading a fanfiction and then you want to draw something from said fanfiction but then the characters are aged up in the fanfic so you have to design their age ups?? Yeah me too.

Okay okay okay but I have explanations for like 90% of my choices but I didn't want to take up any more space on your dash so those are under the cut if your interested!! :D

~

By the way it took me an entire day and then some to make these, can you believe that?

I don’t know why I’m asking it’s true

Onto the actual thing!!!!

Right off the bat they ALL have friendship bracelets because they're all friends!! 

Those who weren't at the sleepover got their’s at some point 

idk it’s important to me that they're all friends :(

Also fun fact I totally unintentionally drew almost all of these to scale

And by that I mean when I hold them up to one another, the people I think of as shorter are actually shorter!! It’s very interesting

Well at least to me 

I think there’s a better word than scale but I can’t think of one so therefore I'm just going to keep using it!

More on that in the individual ones

Huey

Look I’m soft for the idea of Huey in a sweater vest

Also he stole this look directly from Webby

Except for the skirt

Because “Skirts are for special occasions” -Huey Duck, at some point

Am I implying that Huey would wear a skirt? 

Yes. Yes I am. 

I hope y’all read that in Phineas’s voice 

Speaking of Phineas, what if I do another crossover thing?? 

Okay that’s off topic I’ll move on 

Older Sibling Culture is being shorter than your younger siblings (I would know)

So naturally Huey’s the shortest of the Duck triplets haha

Dewey 

Also known as Dewey “My hair poof technically makes me taller than you” Duck

But on his own he’s the tallest Duck triplet if I’m following my scale 

Which I am!!

I don’t have much to say here I like the idea that he has the jacket tied around his waist

Plus it has ✨Pockets✨

What’s in there?? It’s a ~mystery~

Nah it’s just a granola bar 

Oh yeah and I wasn’t feeling the vibrant blue that's on his shirt for his younger self

So I made his jacket a more navy blue instead

I meant to give him like converse or something too but then I forgot- 

Louie

I found this outfit on an outfit meme!! 

I thought it was cool and had no ideas for Louie so he got this one

Louie needs an interphase of business casual before y’all give him a suit jacket as an adult, this is my compromise!! 

Also I see y’all with giving older Louie Scrooge’s check tufts

I’m not immune to propaganda, so he gets a little fluff there for now!! 

hahaha propaganda I know I could word that better but it’s funny

Also before you ask I don’t know what his pose is either

I don't choose the pose they just come out that way

Webby

Not gonna lie shes kinda wearing my dream outfit

I don’t know what to tell y’all suspenders and skirts are my favorite things on the planet

Not that I have any suspenders (sigh)

Also I like the idea of long hair Webby!!

I’ll draw her and Violet with their hair down eventually :P

Oh yeah she’s a little off scale

By that I mean 13 year old Webby is a little too short

Sigh, what can you do?

She’s also taller than Huey by the way hehe

But she’s shorter than Louie so she’s still short

Lena

My goal was plain and simple: Make Lena look like a Giant Lesbian 

I hope I succeeded!! 

I don’t know how much more Lesbian I can go since I already have a hawaiian style shirt, cuffed jeans, and stompy boots

Also she gets one more hair wave to show that Time Has Passed

I have said this before but there no WAY Lena doesn’t draw and paint and stuff I get way too many vibes

So she gets a paint splatter thing on her jeans :)

I was just going to keep the pink hair originally but then I realized I didn’t have enough of that nice turquoise 

So I put it in her hair

You can still see a little bit of pink though!!

Therefore her hair makes up half of a trans flag

Do what you will with that 

She’s the second tallest but that’s only because she’s older

It’s Dewey’s personal goal to grow taller than her as fast as humanly (duckly??) possible 

Yeah she’s actually pretty short by standard though

Speaking of age,

I KNOW the rest jump up in age by three (3) years

But writing that Lena would technically be 18 was cursed so we’re going to pretend the birthdays work out so she’s still 17

Can I check if the birthdays actually work out? Of course. Am I going to? No I’m busy drawing and making terrible jokes.

Boyd

Wait a second

We’ve established that Huey is coming for Webby’s style

Now Boyd has an oversized sweater over a dress shirt.......

Boyd is coming for Lena’s style :0

Oh and he kinda looks like Blathers too

I guess you could say he’s hitting two birds with one stone :DD

(Please laugh I tried so hard with that joke)

Another dream outfit tbh

Listen I just want to look like a giant nerd 

That’s off topic again

Boyd is the actual shortest of the group!!

But not by a lot

Huey says Boyd doesn't count because he’s younger

Speaking of age (part 2)

Technically speaking Boyd isn’t 14 years old

What I really mean by that is that he appears to be 14 years old

I don't know, robot logic

Violet

I had no plans so I just went for Librarian vibes

I know that the way Violet’s outfit in the show is presented so that the colors match up with the colors on a Violet Sabrewing hummingbird

But I really didn’t want to make her skirt black so heck that

She’s also officially the tallest of the group!!

Dewey also wants to overtake her in height (but he won't hehe)

I just get tall vibes from her I don't know what to tell y'all 

Gosalyn 

This is my second time ever drawing Gosalyn and my first time on paper

So that’s fun

Anyways, gave our girl the bisexual haircut

And I didn’t give Lena any flannel so we carried that over to Gosalyn 

Also converse just cause 

She’s in-between Louie and Dewey for height by the way!

As for the regular outfit

On the poster I can't really see how the neckline works for her jacket so I just make it look like a letterman jacket

I thought about making it a hoodie but I already gave her older self a hoodie so I didn’t :P

Ugh what a terrible note to leave this on but I don't have anything else for her

That’s it!! Hope some of you found it interesting or something!! 

#why's it formatting Huey to be big tho #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #age up designs #is that a tag? is that the right tag if it is a tag?? #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webby vanderquack #lena de spell #lena sabrewing #lena ducktales #boyd ducktales #b.o.y.d. #boyd drake #boyd gearloose #violet sabrewing #gosalyn mallard #ducktales gosalyn #my art stuff

[renee-writer]

Autumn

One Shot Moodboard challenge. Thanks to @molecularstardust for the beautiful moodboard.💓💓💓💓

It is her favorite time of year. With the beautiful colors and the crisp but, not yet cold, air. She doesn't like the common name for it, fall. Autumn more describes the taste of cider, the sound of crunching leaves under her boots, smell of the coming winter.

Besides, autumn is when she meet him. She was sitting on a bench in the park, her head laid back, doing nothing more then enjoying the feel of the breeze against her skin. Between classes, she can't handle being inside.

“May I join you lass?” She looks up into the bluest eyes, the color of the cloudless sky above her and a head of hair as red as a changing maple leaf.

“Ah sure.” He sits beside her, drawing his long legs under the bench.

“Jamie Fraser.” He offers his hand.

“Claire Beauchamp.” She takes it. He gently squeezes it.

“Beauchamp? French but your accent is English.”

“I had a very unusual childhood. I am surprised you picked up the English Mr. Fraser. Must people hear the many combined ones and can't quite place it.”

“Jamie. I've an ear for the English accent.”

“Growing up in Scotland?”

“Aye. I guess we are both outsiders here.”

“Yes. My Uncle said Harvard was the best so..” she shrugs.

“My da said the same. What is your field of study, Miss Beauchamp?”

“Claire. Medicine and yours Jamie?”

“Law. Seems we are two ambitious people, eh Claire?” She thoroughly enjoys the thrill that runs up her spine at the way he says her name.

“Seems so. Oh, I must be off. Have class. I will see you around Jamie.” She stands and he stands with her.

“Wait lass.” He places something in her hand. She looks down to see an small index card with his name and number on it. “So we can stay in touch, eh?”

“Thank you Jamie. Not much of a caller but will text you.”

“That will be fine Claire.” She walks to class on lighter feet.

She does text him later that day. She had returned to her little apartment, a mile of campus and pulled the card out of the front pocket of her jeans where it had been all day. She smiles as she enters his number in her phone, saving it under Jamie, the scot. She then kicks of her boots and, curling up in her favorite chair, she text him.

“Hi Jamie. It is your favorite future doctor.” She then turns to her course work. She is in the midst of studying the names of the bones in the hand, when her phone dings.

“How do you know you are my favorite future doctor, eh?”

With a smile, she replies,” So I've competition?”

She watches as little dots appear and disappear, as he changes his mind. Then.

“No.” A few more dots. “No in no way Claire.”

She stares at the phone. What she had meet as a tease, he had made serious. How was she to respond?

“I was teasing.” She decides on honesty.

“I wasn't. Don't..” Dots appear and disappear again. “Run Claire. I know... Bloody. Can I call?”

She debates only a second. “Yes.” Her heart hammers as she waits for it to ring. Finally.

“Hi.”

“Hi Claire. Have I scared you? Will you block my number?”

“I wouldn’t have answered or even gave you permission to call, if that were so. I am puzzled though.”

“At what?”

“I was really teasing. Your response..”

“Yah. I thought about joking back but… I know we just meet and hardly know each other but I feel a pull between us that won't allow me to be nothing but less then honest.”

“I do too. What is this?”

“I don't know but I know I want to see you. Want to talk with you. Want, well, a lot. But will start with dinner. Will you let me take you out?”

“Yes.”

She is in a semi panic state as she gets ready that night. She hasn't had a serious boyfriend for years and that was in upper school. Never as an adult. This feels serious. As serious as they come.

She pulls her hair up then lets it back down. Slips on slacks then changes into a dress. “Get a grip Beauchamp.” She firmly orders herself. Finally she decides hair down and a red dress that shows her figure to perfection.

He knocks on her door right on time and she almost trips over her heels getting to it. She will never make it through dinner if she doesn’t get her nerves under control. So before opening the door, she takes several cleansing breaths.

She opens the door to find Jamie in kakis and a blue button down shirt that shows off his eyes. Lord, he is gorgeous. She finds him staring at her.

“Jamie?”

“Lass, God you are so beautiful.”

“You are quite handsome yourself. Shall we go?”

“Ah yes before I.. Yes let's go.” She locks up and he takes her hand. It feels good and she links their fingers. With their wrist resting against each other, she can feel his heartbeat. It is as fast as hers.

The restaurant he chose has a stunning view of the changing leaves. He pulls out her chair and she glazes out the window at them. They bring her some much needed peace. After their drink orders are taken and the hostess leaves, she fully turns to Jamie.

“You like the changing of the colors.” He states.

“I do. It is my favorite season, Autumn. With the cool but not cold nights, the beauty of the changing leaves, hot cider and sweaters. Truly what is not to love.”

“Aye but you missed one.” He is smiling mischievously at her and she can’t resist the bait.

“That is?”

“It is also cuddle under a quilt or tarden weather. Cuddle weather, eh?”

“Yes.” Her breath is coming short again. His hand reaches across the table to cover hers. Their waitress arrives with their drinks and take their orders. Jamie asks her to come back as they hadn't even taken time to look at the menus yet.

“Shall we decide and then talk?”

“A good idea.” She agrees.

He looks down at the menu then up at her and finds her doing the same. She blushes and he smiles. After they order, he reaches out to take her hand again.

“Shall we talk about it?”

“Yes let's. This thing between us, it is quite powerful. I've never felt anything like it. I dated a bloke in upper school. Went as far as to sleep with him but never felt like I do when you simply rest your hand on mine. I am fascinated and scared. Thrilled and terrified.”

“There has never been anyone who made my heart pound with just a touch, a look. Never been anyone I can see sharing a life with, children with. Grow old with. There is heat, aye. But it is more then the urge to join bodies. Oh, and it scares me to death too.”

“Oh!” she is breathless and speechless. To know it isn’t just her is reassuring. But, he is talking marriage and babies on their first date. It is all a bit overwhelming.

“Not that I am proposing anything but dinner right now.” He is quick to add when he sees her face. “We need to go on dates. Get to know each other.”

She lets out her breath and he smiles. “That is what we will do. So Jamie, tell me about your family?”

“I've a big brother William and sister Janet, called Willie and Jenny respectively. Willie runs Lallybroch, our families estate since my da, Brian retired. Jenny married my best mate, Ian, five years ago and they have three bairns, Jamie, Maggie, and Kitty.”

“Three, in five years?”

“Aye. Jenny wants a large family and none born after she is 35.”

“Sorry, go on.” He grins at her. They still hold hands across the table. He starts to run his thumb over her palm and she lets out a deep sigh.

“Jenny stays at home with the bairns. Ian runs Lallybroch Distillery. You see, Lallybroch is many things, a working farm, a historic site( it has been in our family for over 300 years), and, the extra grain is made into spirits.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“It was a good childhood.”

“Your mam?” That he hadn't mentioned her didn’t escaped her notice.

“Ellen. She passed two years ago from cancer.”

“Oh Jamie!” She moves to his side of the bench seat and draws him into her arms. He buries his face in her neck and let's her comfort him. That is how the waitress finds them when she delivers their orders.

“Is all alright?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Claire replies. She gives them a concerned look before setting the food down.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Claire, tell me about yours.” He needs a distraction. She stays on his side and tells him.

“I am an only child. My mum and daddy tried after me but.. So, I was fairly spoiled. My dad and mum are both doctors. My dad a surgeon. My mam an OB/GYN. Growing up, I knew a lot more then I should about the human body. When I was ten, my parents, Julia and Henry, let me spend summer holidays with my dad's brother, Uncle Lambert, who I call Lamb. He is an archeologist, so I spend my summers all over the world. It was wonderful.”

“Wow. That is quite nice Claire. That you was able to experience so much.”

“It was.” They stop talking to eat.

“What was the most unusual thing you saw? When with your Uncle Lamb?” He asks as he walks them back to his car. He holds her hand and she leans against him.

“Hmm, I guess it would be a completely intact room. He and the others uncovered it in Israel. It was a kitchen. The table was still set. It was awesome and strange at the same time. Like the people were just lifted out. Uncle Lamb and the others were quite excited. I was 13 and just wondered where the people went.”

“Did they figure it out?”

“Yes. Seems that it dated to the time of the Roman occupation. They fled and left everything as it was.”

“Wow.” They had reached his car and he opens the door for her. She grins and enters. He joins her. “Is that what fueled your desire to be a doctor, all you saw those summers or was it more your parents?”

“A bit of both. Seeing all the needy people. People dying from lack of simple meds, simple hygiene and clean water. My parents have always done what they could. They have did medical missions, volunteered at free clinics. So yes, both I would say. How about you? What drew you to the law?”

“”Well, I was always argumentative as a child. Had an answer for everything. My sister would tell me,’ You should be a barrister, Jamie. A joke between us, at first. As I got older, I started to see the appeal of it. At first, it was just the idea of getting paid to argue. But, as. I started to research it, I was drawn to the since of fairness, rightness. The idea of justice. Of setting things right again.”

She smiles at him as he starts his car. “A romantic not just monetary draw. Something else we have in common.” She lays her hand beside him and he covers it with his own.

“Aye. Anyone who gets into the law just to get rich, is in it for the wrong reason. Whether on the prosecution or defense side, you are serving the public good. That should be the motivation”

“I feel the same about medicine. You can't be in it for what you get out of it. A public good, as you say.”

“Aye.” He links their fingers as he drives off. He doesn’t want this date to end but knows it must. They need to do it right. This, what is between them, is to important for less.

“I feel it too, you know.” He turns quickly to look at her. “The hesitation about ending this date. I want to..” she trails off with a blush,” But, it is far to soon.”

“Aye, I was thinking the same. You are worth more then that.” He had arrived back at her place and they both sigh. He parks and gets out and opens the door. Taking her to the door “I really want to kiss you., which is why I mustn’t.” Another sigh. He bends down and brushes his lips across her forehead. He then lifts her hands up and kisses them.

“I've classes and then a test to study for tomorrow night. But, the next night can I take you out?” she asks him.

“Aye lass. Can I text you tomorrow?”

“Yes please.” She stands on her toes to reach his own forehead. “I will miss you way to much if you don't. Good night Jamie.”

“Good night Claire.”

She wakes up to a text from him.

'Good morning beautiful.’'

She smiles as she responds.

'Good morning my handsome scot.’

She is making the bed when her notification bell rings.

‘My. Like that.’

A flush covers her face. She had claimed him and isn't sure if it was intentional or not.

‘We do belong with each other.’ She text back, recalling what he said about honesty.

'Aye. And to?’

She swallows hard as she stares at her phone. He is right but, it had been just three days since she meet him.

'Claire, I'm sorry. Don't run.’

She feels the fear coming through his text. Her heart gives a lurch as she quickly replies.

‘You are right. And to each other. I am scared Jamie.’

A few seconds later.

'Don't be. There are two of us.’

'Coffee? Before class. I need to see you.’

‘And I you. Coffee aye.’

Her heart slows as soon as she sees him. He sees the relief reflected in his eyes too. He draws her into a hug, unmindful of the other people waiting.

“Better.” She says against his chest.

“Aye. Much better.”

She giggles. “How are we ever to do this Jamie. Not able to go a day.”

“Coffee and talk, eh?”

“Yes.” They order and he takes her to the table farthest away from the others.

“I've a crazy solution.” She looks at him with a head tilt. “Hear me out. Okay?” She nods. “We could get married.” Her mouth starts to open and he reaches across and covers it with his hand. “I know insane. But so is this. All of it. I am not saying jump into bed. Just join names and households. So we can live together.”

“We can do that without marriage.” She replies under his hand. He moves it. “It is 2019.”

“Aye. It is just not how I was raised. We are heading there. We both know it. So, keep doing this. Longing for each other. Or. Marry. Share a house and a bed, when we are ready.”

“Give me a day or so.”

“I guess I can do that.” She grins at him, reaches over to kiss his cheek. “Have class. I love you Jamie.”

“I love you Claire.”

“Marry!” her mind screams as she tries to focus on her classes. “It is crazy. Insane.” But, it has a strange appeal. A pull. To wake up in the same place, the same bed, well, it makes more sense then this crazy longing. Then finding herself unable to go a day without seeing him. Touching him. But, on the other hand, should she be running from the strange power of this? Shouldn’t it scare her? It does but in a thrilling way.

“Did I just propose, to a lass I've known for three days, at a coffee shop?” Jamie thinks in a kind of fascinated horror later. “Have I lost my mind?” Aye, his mind, his heart, his soul, his future, everything important to him, is hers. Totally and completely hers. They are heading towards marriage. Despite how crazy it is. They were made for each other. So, in that regard, it makes sense. He shakes himself and refocuses. He decides to do it right. Well, as right as he can now. He will get a ring and ask her proper.

His last class is over an hour before hers. He hurries to his apartment and takes out his lock box. He opens it and takes out the ring that is inside. A silver and gold mix that has a diamond crown cut in the middle. It had belonged to his grandmother. At her death, his mam had gifted it to him. “Fot the woman who will be my daughter-in-law.”

He bounces in his hand, the ring that his grandpa Simon had placed on his grandmother’s Vivian's hand when he asked for her hand 60 years ago. He wonders if they would approve of his choice. Yes, he thinks. Claire is a lot like her. Has the same intellect and ambition. He smiles. She had reared five children while taken night classes to get her business degree. She ran Lallybroch while grandpa served in the military. Yes, they would like her.

She meets him where they first meet mere four days ago. She is nervous so is he. “Claire, I am sorry. I should have never blurted it out like that. Right before we both had class.”

“No. It made concentrating hard.”

“Sorry babe. Besides the place and timing and place, what did you think?”

“There is a kind of logic to the illogical idea of it.”

He laughs aloud. “Christ Claire, your way with words. That is a perfect description.” She laughs with him. “Does that mean yes?” She looks deep into his eyes and sees all she has ever dreamed of. With a deep breath she nods.

“Yes, as crazy as it is, yes.” He drops down before her. He slips the ring out of his pocket. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, I know it is crazy but there is no one else I want to hold hands with, the only one I want to wake up beside, the only one I want to see in our children’s faces, the only one I want to fight with, make up with, laugh with and cry with. Will you do me the honor of stepping into the future with me. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes Jamie!” He slips the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly. “Did you go out and..”

“No. It was my grandma's. Does it suit because I can.”

“No. God Jamie. It is beautiful.”

“Like you.”

“You know we have yet to even kiss.” His fiancée reminds him.

“Hmm we should remedy that.” He stands up and pulls her to her feet. Placing his hands on her face, he meets her eyes before lowering his head.

Neither are sure what to expect but are not prepared for the power behind it. She clings to his shoulders to avoid falling. He holds tight to her back to prevent the same. She feels the power he is holding in check. He feels the trust she is given him and is exquisitely careful with it.

They both look awed as they come apart. She rest her head against his chest. His arms come tight around her.

“So, do you want a long engagement.” He asks against her head.

“No. I think a short one would be best.” He chuckles.

“I agree. You want a church wedding?”

“I think simpler is better. Maybe a church wedding later. Like on an anniversary.”

“Okay. Claire I don’t even know if you are a Catholic?”

“I am. Nominal but yes.”

“Good. That is good. Children, you want children?”

“Boy are we doing this backwards.” She says with a laugh. “Yes, I want children.”

“We are. Okay Claire, let's go..”

“To your place. And talk.”

“Aye. My place it is.” They join hands and the feel of the ring does strange things to Jamie, and he takes her to his flat.

His place is tiny but neat. He was verra glad he followed his mam's advise and always kept it straightened. “Yah ne' ken when you will want to bring a lass home.” She had advised,” so always assume you will.” Because he followed that rule, he knows he won’t be embarrassed by wet towels on the floor or dishes in the sink. This is not just any lass, but his fiancée. He is thankful for the good first impression.

She smiles as she walks in. An efficiency, with the living room/ bedroom together. The perfectly made bed is off to the side. The sofa has a tarden style blanket over the back. A bookshelf is filled with both law books and novels. The kitchen is clean with just a few dishes in the drainer.

“I am impressed. Mine isn't this neat.”

“My mam. She always told me to leave the house as if I would be bringing someone back to it.”

“A smart woman.”

“Aye, you would have liked her and she you.”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Come Claire, let's talk.” She takes a seat on his couch and fingers the soft fabric of the tarden.

“Your families colors?”

“Aye, the Fraser colors.” He takes it and spreads it out over their laps.

“Beautiful.” She runs her hands over it.

“Aye.” But he isn’t talking about the tarten. He meets her eyes and they both swallow. “Talk. We need to talk.”

“Yes. How many children do you want?”

“Two or three. Siblings teach you a lot, I've found.”

“Yes. I always wanted one. So, are you a ‘attend mass every time the doors are open' type or..”

“Or. I should go more. But..”

“Ah, that is me too.”

And so, they slowly get to know their future spouses for the first time. They discuss family, their own and what they expect for the one they are building together, values and mores, and then they get to the more intimate stuff.

“I was 16. He was 19. I was in Paris with Uncle Lamb. He was sweet, and very French. We were at his flat and I felt myself very grown-up. Well, until I missed my cycle.” His eyes get comically large, “I wasn’t. Just nerves. It was only a week but put me off the whole idea for awhile. Besides, I couldn’t figure out what the attraction was. It seemed a messy affair that only brought pleasure to the man.”

“You didn’t..”

“No. I hardly ever do. I know it is harder for a woman but..”

He is shaken his head. “The man must take his time and pay attention. Though, my first probably didn’t get much out of it either. I was seventeen, a bit older, eh. She was also. We were out in the barn, fumbling in the hay loft. I took her in three strokes.”

“Three.” She is giggling.

“I've gotten better.” It is without thought that there lips come together, that there hands fumble under the tarden that still covers them. Hers land on his thighs. His glaze her breasts. Their moans blend together. She finds herself under him as he kisses down her neck. Her hands twisted in that wonderful hair.

“Please,” she whispers, as his hands work under her sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“Very. I want you.” He eases it up as she pulls on his. He lifts hers off and then his own. She watches his eyes as he looks at her. Her breasts are one part of her body she is insecure about. To small, she has always thought. But, the awe she sees in his eyes makes her start to think differently.

“Claire, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

“You don't think them to small?”

“No,” he lowers the bra straps. “God no. You are esquist.” He reaches back to take it off before moving his hands to the front to cup her. She shivers at the contact. “With nipples like cherries. Shall we see if they are as sweet?” Her eyes drift closed as he lowers his head. Only to fly open with his first deep suck.

“Oh god!” It feels so good. So very good as his pulling mouth works her nipple deeper in. His fingers pull on the other one. He then switches sides. Her left is even more sensitive and she cries out as he starts to love on it. The thought that he is to be her husband and her breasts will have this type of attention all the time is what causes her to tear up. He feels them fall on his neck and looks up.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. I just realized that, as my husband, you can love on my breast, like that all the time.”

“Ah lass, and we have just begun.” He pulls her jeans off and kisses down her belly.

“Where? What?”

“I think you know.”

“Yes, it is just..”

“Aye?” he rests on her hip bone and looks up at her with raised eye brows. “Ah, there is an odor.” She is blushing.

“True. You smell of your desire for me and it is intoxicating. Please Claire, let me bring you pleasure. “ She nods and tries to relax as her eases her panties off. He kisses back up her legs, easing them open. He licks up her inner thigh, and she starts to shake with anticipation.

He kisses her mound before opening her with his hands. She closes her eyes as he starts to lap her, up and down. He hits her clit with every swipe and she is soon panting for more. He fully turns his attention to it.

“Ohhh!” She had never felt anything like his mouth holding her in place as his tongue pulled at her. His hand comes up and finds her left nipple and she is gone. Pulled almost out of her body by the surge of pleasure, her legs start to shake and quiver, her body bows up and over him. He keeps a hold of her breast and clit and waits for her to come down. When she does, he pulls her back over with a deep suck and a gentle squeeze. This time she screamed.

“That,” he breathlessly tells her. “Is what it is supposed to feel like.”

“Yes! Oh yes. Thank you.”

He grins from her belly where he had worked his way too. “Shall we continue? We don’t have to. Can wait if you want.”

“Sweet man, I want you. Let's go mess up your bed.”

“Oh aye,” He pulls off his clothes before taken her hand and leading her into his room. “Claire, are you on something?” he asked her.

“No I, well I've not been.”

“Right. No worries I've,” He reaches into his bedside drawer. “My da taught his sons to always have rubbers around. That you will never know and.. well, I listened.”

“Thank God you did.” He grins in agreement before pulling one out of the just opened box.

“Aye.” She climbs on the bed. He joins her and runs his hands down her body. “You are so very beautiful, my wife-to-be.”

“Soon Jamie. I wish to be married soon.”

“Aye, me too.” He is playing with her breast and she starts to gasp and keen. “Claire, may I?” In answer, she takes the rubber from him and slips in on. Her hands on him are almost his undoing. He groans and then gasp as she guides him between her legs. “Oh God. “ The feel of her, surrounding him, he knows he was exactly where he was born to be.

“Yes, Jesus Jamie, yes!” her hands hold tight to him as he starts to move. He watches her, gaging her reaction so he can find the rhythm that suits them both. The slow slide, in and out, that has her clawing at his back, seems to be it.

“Close. Oh God. Jamie I think..” he smiles and lowers his head, drawing that wonderfully sensitive left nipple in. It is all she needs and, with his next slide in, she gasps, and cries out as she clamps around him. “Oh!”

“That's it, my love. “ he sooths as she comes down. He had stopped as she came around him, not wanting to cum himself, just yet.

“Oh wow!” He kisses her deeply before picking it back up. He moves a bit faster and her legs come up to hold him in place. “Jamie!”

He is determined to bring her there again and lifts her wonderful bum up, drawing her closer. Her pants and gasps get more frantic and he feels it build back up in both of them. “Come baby. Cum with me.” She starts to move with him and a minute later whimpers and groans as the pleasure runs back through her. He follows within seconds, crying out her name.

“Well okay then,” She says after a few more hundred heartbeats that slowly return to normal. “That is what it is supposed to feel like.”

“Aye.” He lays breathless and sweating beside her. “Aye but that is making love. Was new to me. The intensity.”

“Good. Good to know I am not alone.”

“Never again.” He rolls over and faces her,” that is my vow to you. You will ne' face another day or night alone.”

“God Jamie. I so love you.”

“You are my world. When do you wish to make the wedding then?”

“Do you wish your family here?”

“We can have ceremony for them later. Just you and I is fine for now. Unless you wish your family here?”

“No, just us sounds perfect. Can we just go to the register tomorrow?”

“Aye, my love. We can if that be your wish.”

“Yes please.”

“Then that is what we will do.”

That is what they do. After stopping to purchase simple gold bands, they walk into the registers office, hand in hand.

“We would like to be married, please.” He tells the lady at the counter.

“Excellent. Need you to fill out this license. You have ID?” They hand it to her. “Very good.”

“So, we can get married now?”

“Yes you may. In three day.”

“Three days?” Claire complains.

“Yes. We have a three day period from when the license is filed and when it is picked up. Gives us time to see if you are married elsewhere and you time to cool off, not to marry in haste.”

“It is only three days. I am going nowhere.” Jamie tells her.”

“Right.” She smiles at him. “We can be married here though?”

“Yes. The day you pick up your license.”

“Thank you. We will be back.”

“I bet she thinks I am pregnant.” Claire teases as they leave, still hand in head.”

“Undoubtedly. Well it matters not what she thinks. We know why we wish to be married so fast.” She smiles at him. “Because I canna live another day without you.”

“Nor I, you. Well, it is only three days and with classes and all.”

“Time will go fast. Aye.”

“And it doesn’t mean we can’t be together. Neither of us have class until tomorrow.” His eyes shoot up.

“Well then, future Mrs. Fraser, your place or mine?”

“Oh, we have to figure that out. Later.”

They stand before the judge three days later. Holding tight to each others hands and looking deep in each others eyes, they repeat the words that bind them together. They slip the rings on and kiss. They take a selfie with the marriage license and their ringed fingers. They send it to their families and then hide in her apartment for a week, waiting for the explosion to die down. Their families eventually come to understand and except the marriage.

A year later, August Julia-Ellen Fraser is born. The grandparents and aunts and uncles come to meet the chestnut haired blue eyed lass. When they see how in love her parents are and how the are making it work, still keeping up with their classes still on the right track, the last of their doubts fade away.

They return to Scotland after finishing school. They build their practices as their children grow. Every Autumn, they take a week, just them, and go camping. Exploring the monros, making love under the stars, keep warm by her husbands heat, reminds Claire why it is her favorite season.

#my writing #one shot #moodboard #challenge #autumn #okay this is the longest one shot I have ever done. #pray you guys like it #gets explict

[lunarity2013]

PostwickShip Fic Ideas

So I beat the main game of Pokémon Sword this past weekend, and I have been COMPLETELY obsessed with this adorable ship — to the point where I have been writing down all these ideas for a fic for it, and I just really needed to put the words to paper (or google doc, I guess) and share them! @kuumamochi - here ya go!

So quick note, I changed their ages so she, Hop, Bede, and Marnie are all around 16 instead of 10-12, and I actually made an OC for this to use instead of the base Gloria/Yuuri, so first some little details about her!

OC: Elizabeth

Called: Lizzie

Age: 16 (birthday - Spring)

Hair: long, caramel blonde; usually tied back into to twin braids with side-swept bangs

Eyes: large, round, icy blue eyes (get darker closer to the center)

Height: 4′11″

Weight: 115 lbs

Starter: Sobble  (nicknamed “Darcy”, like from Pride and Prejudice)

Likes: strawberries, hydrangeas, warm blankets, and a good book

Dislikes: meat (she’s vegetarian), scary stories, snow, and sports

Favorite Pokemon Types: Fairy and Grass

Typical Outfit/Style: knit beret, striped shirt, short skirt, hoodie, thigh-high socks, and ankle boots

Personality: shy, a bit oversensitive as a child, easily upset by harsh words or by bullies, slowly grows out of it and comes out of her shell as she grows up with  Hop; always felt like a “damsel in distress” when Hop would stand up to bullies for her, and wants to be the one to stand up for him for once; always thinks before opening her mouth, sometimes for too long and misses her chance to speak in a conversation

Family:

Mom: Sara

energetic, but soft-spoken; worked as a journalist in Hammerlocke for years before meeting Lizzie’s father, and moving to Postwick to become a mother and an online journalist

brown hair, blue eyes, 5′0″

Pokemon: Budew, Munchlax

Dad: Dimitri (deceased)

shy, very calm; prefered books to people in most cases; was working as a low-ranking police officer (alongside many cousins named Jenny) in Hammerlocke when he met Sara; later moved with her to Postwick and became a small-town detective

Died of illness when Lizzie was 7

blond hair, purple eyes, 6′0″

Pokemon: Pikachu “Zeus”

Aunt: Carol

Her late dad’s older sister

Lives in Ballonlea, working as a teacher

blonde hair, purple eyes, 5′4″

Pokemon: Cutiefly “Zipper”, Ponyta “Magi”, and Clefairy “Momo”

Grandpa: Phillip

Her mom’s dad

Former Dark-Type gym leader before Piers (his eldest grandchild)

Currently retired and living in Spikemuth

Pokemon: Obstagoon, Thievul, Grimmsnarl, Phantump, Skuntank

Cousins: Marnie and Piers

Their mother is Lizzie’s mom’s younger sister

She was also the Dark-Type gym leader for several years until Piers took over

History with Hop:

Grew up with Hop for as long as either can remember

It was always the two of them against the world

Hop protected her from bullies

Lizzie patched him up when things got “too real”

Always figured they’d be together forever, no matter what

Leon gave Hop his first Pokemon (Wooloo) right before he left on his Pokemon journey

Lizzie was a little jealous and wanted one too

Leon said he could catch her one, but then Hop one-upped him and said he’d find her a shiny Wooloo instead

Lizzie agreed to let Hop find one, and hasn’t tried to catch one until he finds her a shiny Wooloo

It’s been six years since this, and he’s still looking

Lizzie realized she had a crush on Hop when he came over to cheer her up after being stood up for a date at age 13

They watched Pokemon league matches while eating ice cream until they finally passed out on the floor at about 3am

Hop turned 16 first, and should have been the first to go on his Pokemon journey, but insisted on staying another six months until Lizzie’s birthday so that they could go on their journey together

Hop realizes he might have a crush on her right before they start their journey, when they both reach for the Wishing Stones

He sees her eyes light up in the stones’ glow, and gets the “oh no, emotions” feeling in his gut

Their Journey Begins:

Lizzie gets her Sobble because it reminds her of her childhood self

She wants to be for Sobble what Hop was for her

She names him Darcy, after the character in her favorite book

Hop is only a little jealous she named her first Pokemon after the love interest to the character that shares her name (No, Liz, I didn’t read it, you just talk about it all the time and I can’t escape it!)

In the Slumbering Weald, they get separated in the fog, and have to try and find each other as well as the lost Wooloo

They don’t see the sword or shield Pokemon until they find each other again, holding hands to not get lost again

They’re still holding hands when they wake up after passing out in the fog

Lizzie’s second Pokemon and Hop’s third Pokemon are a pair of Rookidee, who they help out and that choose to stay with them

The two bird Pokemon bicker like an old married couple half the  time they’re together, but cuddle and coo at each other and hate to be apart for too long

Hop, oblivious: “Look, they’re just like us! Best friends who can’t be kept apart!”

Lizzie: *facepalm*

They travel together all the way to Motosoke, camping together in the Wild Area

Lizzie teaches Hop how to cook, so as not to starve or poison any of his Pokemon or himself

His Pokemon are forever grateful

After opening ceremonies, they take on different gyms

Lizzie starts with Milo’s, while Hop takes on Nessa’s first, then they switch and meet back up in Motosoke for Kabu’s badge challenge

This starts as the longest either of them have ever been apart, and they’re both nervous while putting on a brave front

Just about every battle they’ve ever had has either ended in a draw, or been cut off by something

They don’t find out who is the “stronger trainer” of the two until the Semi-Finals

***

I think I’m gonna stop here for now, let me know if anyone wants to see more! I’ll post a link if I end up writing a whole drawn-out fic for this concept!

Note: please ignore any spelling/grammar errors, I used my computer to type these and it’s kind of shit.

#postwickshipping #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #hop #gloria/yuuri #leon #marnie #bede

[heyimtavia]

THE POST FINALE HENRY DANGER OPINIONS TAG:

Hey party people! Sorry I’ve been a bit out of the loop. Due to what’s going on in the world, adulting sorta got in the way and I have to DVR the final episode. No one tagged me, but I just wanted to add my two cents since this is officially the end and this is a really cute tag.

1. Who was your overall favorite member of Team Danger and why?

Charlotte hands down. She was brilliant, sassy and just a great friend to Henry no matter what. She’s one of the main reasons why I decided to tune into the show. I saw a lot of myself in her. I was once that little smart black girl that no one listened too. But it’s okay though, but that GLOW UP is real! I know from experience lol.

2. Who was your favorite non-team danger character and why?

Y'all know I love Fran the security guard. She should’ve gotten more air time. I just think she’s hilarious! I’d loved to see her try to wrestle a dolphin any day!

3. Who was your favorite villain and why?

Dr. Minyak & Nurse Cohort. I just gotta respect his hustle. Other than Rex and Rick Twitler, I feel like he’s the only everyday villain who always came close to defeating Captain Man & Kid Danger. He always had unique plans; from capturing and brain-altering Charlotte to taking Piper and the man fan hostage, he was always creative. Plus I love his little temper tantrums he sometimes throws. 

4. What were your top five favorite Henry Danger episodes of all time and why?

1) All time Fav would go to The Great Cactus Con. From the dopeyness of how everyone can do a backflip instead of Ray. How Charlotte gets to show off her fashion design skills. How Piper unofficially works with Team Danger. Plus I love the cute romantic bit between Jasper and Patina. 2) Rumblr- That whole episode was just comedy gold for me. They should’ve brought Kyle back for the finale and had him show up at kid danger’s funeral  3) I dream of Danger - Its Char’s episode. I like how it alluded to Charlotte’s dream might come true but it doesn’t. However, I don’t like how they just moved on like the episode never happened even when Jasper thinks that char likes him. 4) Flabber Gassed- I love that char got to show off her fighting skills and how happy Jasper was to be a superhero. 5) Holey Moley- I straight up die for laughter every time I see that episode. I love how Henry kept saying, “oh look, a downside.” I feel like that episode would have been a sketch on All That or the Amanda Show. It just felt like good ole Nickelodeon comedy.

5. What were your top five least favorite Henry Danger episodes of all time and why?

1) Henry’s Birthday- Call me a diva, but if anyone treated me like that on my birthday, the party is OVER! 2) Captain Makini (I think that's what it’s called). Sorry, I'm not really a fan of Frankie Grande and though he was great for the musical, I really don’t think he needed a second episode. 3) Meet Cute Crush- I’m sorry, anything involving Piper is just physical and emotionally draining. All that girl does is yell. Thank u, next. 4) Sick & Wired- Because I got sick and tired of Ray’s shenanigans. 5) JAM Session- Now Piper isn’t my favorite character, but how that girl was manipulated all over a bet was just stupid and disrespectful.

6. What was your favorite running gag and why?

1) Fran’s line, “There’s only one in the whole world, and we got it!” Swellview must be a fun, mysterious place that always gets amazing things lol. 2) When everyone says “Click” before hanging up their phone. I find it funny because I’m pretty sure the kids had never owned a flip phone in their lives.

7. What was your favorite one-off throw away gag and why?

When shwoz referenced his song from the musical when he said, “Science, science, science, I’ve said this already.” I think he said this in Theranos boot. And also the grammar fights and how grammar rules don’t apply to Charlotte lol.

8. What episode, which character and which duo made you laugh the most?

I think Holey Moley & Rumblr both made me laugh the most. Those were great episodes. Jasper would have to be the funniest. That boy says the darndest things lol. Hensper. Because of how Henry loved Jasper’s mustache and wanted to get one too. And when Jasper and Henry were both “Dude. Bro. Dude. Bro. DUDE!” Over the Patina situation and Charlotte had to break them up.

9. What episode, which character and which duo made you the most emotional?

I think it was Second episode of the finale episodes, when Henry was freaking out at the end because he was alone and Rex had sent Ray A Million and one years into the past. The fact that he literally had to think like all of his friends because obviously that’s what he was used to, everyone being there to help figure out a plan and keep swellview safe. And the fact that for that moment he was kid danger and all alone was really scary for him.

10. How would you rank each season from 1 to 5, one being the best and five being the worst?

I would rank season 5 as 1. It overall had great episodes and delved into different genres and fun tv and movie tropes. It made it a joy to watch, though some episodes leading towards the end didn’t quite catch me. Season 4 would be like a high 4 but not exactly a 5. Season 3 was sorta Meh to me. So maybe a #.  Season 2 would be a 4 and season 1 would be like a 4 because it was a the beginning to a great show and was still working out the kinks a bit.

11. Who was your favorite duo in the show (romantic or non-romantic)?

Chenry 100%. The friendship that those two have is great! Now I must say, I hate that Nick was still posting about them on their youtube page for clout knowing that it wasn’t gonna happen. I felt like they did that just so people would watch the final episodes. I was gonna watch regardless, but really Nick? Really?

12. What was your favorite Henry and Ray moment/episode?

The bro song! Plus I love that it kept getting referenced after the musical as well.

13. What was your favorite Chenry moment/episode?

 When Char was controlling  Henry in flabber gassed, she made him jump up and down while clapping! I love that even shwoz joined in too lol. And when Henry was concerned about her after she ate bad meat from the auto snacker.

14. What was your favorite Hensper moment/episode?

The mustache scene from Grand Theft Otto, “dude if I had one, I’d be Man Danger!”

15. What was your favorite Chensper moment/episode?

This also kinda includes Ray but when they were all stealing Joss Ross’s gift from her birthday party and they were just casually leaving. And how Jasper kept saying, “It’s not stealing if it’s from a criminal.” Plus I like the episode when Hen and Char have to pretend to date just to see if Jasper would keep their secret. The boy poured a whole bowl of pees down his shirt lmaoooo!!

16. If you could go back and change one element of the show, what would it be?

 Have Ray grow up and stop fawning over Henry’s mom. It was just plain creepy! Oh and put some respect on my girl Charlotte’s name.

17. If you could say one thing to each main character in the pilot, what would it be?

Life isn’t always about one day getting a statue, (I’m looking at YOU Captain Man). Crime-fighting is fun and being a sidekick could literally every kid’s dream. But don’t forget to be a kid. Hangout with your friends, go to school, go on dates. Do the whole growing up thing. But at the end of the day, you have to do what’s best for you.

18. If you could say one thing to each main character in the finale, what would it be?

Thank you for sharing your lives with me and I am so so sooo proud of you all! 

19. Were you satisfied with the finale? What part was your favorite and what part was your least favorite?

 Honestly, I think it was okay for what it was. My fav part was when Jasper literally had to carry Char out of the mancave because she refused to leave Henry behind. I love that they decided to stick together. They did leave a lot of storylines open. I thought Joss Moss would be revealed as the real Mob boss. I thought Rick Twitler would regain his memory. Where the heck is Gooch? Caitlin? Chenry (for obvious reasons). I'm just spitballing here. Was it good? Yes. could it have been better? Hell yes.

20. What would your ideal Henry danger spin off look like?

 Charlotte and Henry have powers and Jasper can fight! Dystopia. That was the spin-off that I wanted! I don’t really care about the new kids as much. They’re college-aged too? Just imagine the shenanigans they would get into! But we need to kick the Charlotte hating writer off the staff though. Can The CW pick this show up?

21. Where do you personally see the characters 10 years from now? What are they doing, who are they with, where are they in their lives - what do you think happened to them? Most importantly, are they happy?

 I honestly haven’t thought about it. But I believe no matter what they do or where they may end up, they will be happy. They’ll probably always be a team.

22. What was your favorite part of the show and why did it initially draw you in?

It became an escape from my normal adult life. (I’m saying like I’m old. I’m only 23.) I randomly flipped it on one day, I can't remember what episode it was, but from then on, I was hooked. I used to watch it a while back, but I fell off, but at that moment on time, it was easy for me to fall right back into it.

23. What was your favourite part of the fandom and why did it initially draw you in?

The friends I’ve made, the people have met! They are the best out of all the fandoms I’m a part of. I’ve been on tumblr for years and never had I have a group of people be so nice, supportive and just incorporate me into things. I love you guys so much!

24. Describe your overall emotions/feelings regarding the show being over and the show in general, looking back on it as a whole, with one quote from the show.

It’s a bittersweet feeling. I hate to see it go. But all good things must come to an end. But I guess there’s nothing better to say than, “Feels Good.”

25. If you were able to add one scene in the finale, what would you add?

 I don’t know honestly. Maybe we could have seen him reunite with his friends and family. Especially Charlotte and Jasper, Afterall, they probably thought that their best friend was dead for all they knew.

26. Favorite outfit/hair style?

 Charlotte’s Date outfit with Jack Swagger. Sis was rockin that romper. Also when Jasper and Charlotte were helper bunnies! Those outfits were hilarious and cute.

27.Least favorite character?

I'm sorry but Piper. She was worse than the whole annoying little sister trope. I swear all ash did was yell through most of the seasons and then they gave this chick a driver’s license, I mean what?? Plus i think her reaction to finding out Henry was kid danger was better in Broken Armed and Dangerous, than in twisted sister. 

28. What is question you would like to ask the writers/ producers?

Im tagging @adorkable-blackgirl @chenoahchantel

#henry danger #hd spoliers #hd tag game #hd

[silverfootstepswrites]

Amaryllis | Chapter 13

<Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14>

+++

A few weeks later, they entered Whiteriver Keep to strange looks from the guards on patrol. And then disapproving stares from the nobles and officials who walked the halls of the castle. Mercenaries weren’t an unfamiliar sight in the city of Whiteriver. It was just that they were never invited into the walls of the castle proper. The people who came and went through these gates were often traveling entertainers or diplomats from far-off lands.

“Oh. A triumphant return, then, General?” a smarmy voice came from behind.

Sakura didn’t even need to turn to know that it was Duke Hyuuga. Scoffing at her. His silken hair gleaming in the torchlight, while muck still covered her boots and cloak. He wrinkled his nose as he saw the state of her travel-weary companions as well.

“I wasn’t aware that His Majesty had sent you on some sort of journey with your friends. What a lively group,” he went on.

Sasuke opened his mouth to rebuke the man. After all, he had failed to even recognize and greet the princes of the neighboring nation. But he took a step back when his brother tugged the back of his cloak.

Because Itachi was watching Sakura’s face, not the duke’s.

“Majesty?” she repeated.

When she turned to finally face him, Sakura was still smiling.

“How sad. In your… advanced age… you must have forgotten. There is no ‘Majesty’ at the moment. Just the Regent,” Sakura corrected him. The duke’s expression hardened as she added: “Do take care of yourself. It would be a tragedy to see such a sharp mind lost to senility.”

“Good day to you, Duke,” Sakura then greeted him as she brushed past. The rest of the group trailed along after her. Including the mercenaries. Kisame glanced back to smirk at the incensed duke, who trembled with rage as he hurried along in the opposite direction.

With a weary look around the group, it was Sasuke who suggested that they retire to their rooms to wash up and rest before supper. Sakura sent Haku up to her chambers with her things before she headed off into the city on foot. Kaze she sent off to the stables to be pampered for the first time in several weeks.

The way to the Academy was busy, as always. She stepped through the gates. No one dared intercept her when they spotted her bright hair.

Sakura found a pot of geraniums on her desk upon her return. She stood in the doorway of her office as she stared at the bright purple flowers. Mud was painted onto the bottoms of her boots and she could feel the grime caked under her nails. But there were flowers waiting for her anyway.

Purple was the color of the Yamanaka family so it was easy to guess who they had come from.

"You there," Sakura called as she heard footsteps in the hall. They abruptly stopped before the soldier ran up to her. She heard the creak of his starched uniform as he saluted, fist over his heart.

"Bring me Colonel Hyuuga at once," she ordered.

Geraniums stood for true friendship. And Sakura was aware of few friends she had in this city. And only one of them would send a message to her in this manner. If Ino was sending her flowers to affirm her friendship, there had to be a reason.

Sakura moved into her office, her eyes scanning the area for any hidden presences. The windows were closed. But she still moved closer to check the locks. They seemed to be in perfect working order.

There was a set of knocks: three in a row.

"General."

For a moment, as Sakura turned, she thought she saw Neji walking over a mountain of dead bodies. The smell of decay and burnt flesh was thick in the air. But she blinked and he was simply entering her office. Seeing the odd look on her face, he hesitated in the doorway for a moment. And then he entered, bowing, right fist over his heart.

"Colonel," she acknowledged him. Only then did he raise his head.

“Your Uncle found me as soon as I entered the city. As if he were waiting for me,” she said. No point in skirting around formalities. They were both too busy for that.

“He’s been spending a great deal of time in the castle lately. It could be coincidence,” Neji replied. Sakura’s nose wrinkled at the last part. She hated that word. Coincidence.

Neji hesitated. And then he asked anyway: “Do you doubt my loyalty, General?”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could live in a world where we don’t have to doubt anyone, Colonel?” she queried in return. Which was an answer in itself.

“Don’t take it to heart,” Sakura then added. Her pointer finger touching her cheek as she leaned against her desk.

As Sakura moved her finger to point to the flowers sitting next to her, there was a sudden clatter. Both of them turned to look as a knife jiggled in the lock of the window directly behind the desk. After a moment, the lock clicked and two hands pushed the window open before grasping the inside sill. With a grunt and a swing of his skinny legs, Suigetsu pulled himself up into the office on the third story.

Neji's hand flew to his sword while Sakura simply let out a tired noise.

"Is a door not good enough for you?" Sakura demanded. Smirking, Suigetsu sat on the windowsill while looking supremely proud of himself. Then again, Suigetsu appeared to have few other expressions besides that one.

"Your security is beyond bad, woman," Suigetsu informed her with glee.

"You will address the General with respect," Neji hissed as he drew his sword and pointed it at the strange intruder.

"Watch yourself, young lord. They don't call me the Second Coming of the Demon for fun," leered Suigetsu in response. He reached back to pat the large sword on his back. Glowering, Neji looked back to Sakura who seemed unconcerned.

“You should know, Colonel. I've hired some interesting men since the last time we've spoken. You may see them around the city until I leave for Plumeria," Sakura informed him. Neji's eyebrow twitched as Suigetsu just grinned at him. Still, he slowly sheathed his weapon.

And then she called Neji’s attention back to the flowers on her desk. “Who allowed these to be brought here?” she then questioned.

“Lieutenant General Nara, Ma’am,” he responded.

“And who brought them inside my office? It should be one of us. Simple couriers shouldn’t be permitted access to this room,” Sakura pressed.

“A soldier. Shall I identify him and bring him here?” Neji offered.

“Do so.”

“What’s the problem? I thought women liked flowers?” demanded Suigetsu.

Sakura stared at him. Then at the flowers. She reached into her pocket to pull out a glove. She slipped it over her fingers. And then she reached among the purple petals to pluck something out. A needle glinted in her grasp.

“Poisoned, I’m assuming,” she murmured.

Neji blanched. “I’ll see to this matter immediately, General,” he whispered.

Suigetsu knocked his knuckles against the window, drawing their stares. “Easy to pick the locks. Any rat could have crawled in to plant the poison,” he pointed out. And then he leaned out the open window. He called out: “Hey. Come look at this.”

There was a pause. And then fingers appeared over the sill. Mangetsu pulled himself through the window in one graceful motion. Neji stared as the intruder landed noiselessly on his feet.

Mangetsu stared at his little brother, who grinned. “Lady thinks there’s poison. What do you think?” Suigetsu asked, pointing toward Sakura. Neji bristled at the casual way the man referred to his commanding officer.  Mangetsu hesitated, and then strode across the room to glance over the flowers. He took a few deep breaths near the petals. Wrinkled his nose.

“Flowers overpower everything. Not even a dog could sniff that out,” Mangetsu complained, pinching his nose.

Sakura nodded. She plucked a handkerchief from her other pocket. She wrapped up the needle in a neat bundle.

Mangetsu turned to his brother. He knocked the back of his hand against Suigetsu’s shoulder.

“This wasn’t what Big Boss meant by keeping watch,” he scolded. “You’re supposed to observe from a distance.”

“But that’s boring,” Suigetsu sighed, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

Mangetsu glanced back at Sakura. He rubbed the back of his head for a bit, thinking. And then he held his hand out to her. Neji reached for his weapon again.

“I have contacts who can look into it,” offered Mangetsu.

“So do I,” Sakura replied.

She held his gaze. Searching. He didn’t flinch away.

“Boss says to keep you alive. We don’t get paid otherwise,” Mangetsu told her. The corner of her mouth pulled up in a smirk.

“Keep it quiet," she ordered. He clenched his fist around the handkerchief she placed in his hand. He jerked his head in a short nod. He climbed back out the window, dropping quietly to the ground below. Suigetsu followed, but not before sending a wink her way. Neji stared after them.

"General, you can't be serious," he said.

"More serious than you'd know," Sakura replied.

+++

Clawing hands filled Sakura’s eyes. She jolted upright, a gasp leaking from her mouth. Blinked. And then the hands were gone.

There was silence before her door opened. And then Sasori’s face appeared, followed by the glint of his sword. His eyes scanned the room before they rested on Sakura. The disarray of her bed and the sweat beading down the back of her neck screamed of more nightmares.

“Just… a dream,” she tried to explain.

Sasori stepped into the room. Sakura thought she saw another silhouette moving behind him. She tensed before he could see that it was Kisame. Ever since the mercenaries had joined them, Sasori refused to leave her with alone. He slept in front of her door, his sword gripped in his hand.

Kisame’s eye met hers. He stared for a long moment. And then he was gone.

“I told you to let me know if they got worse,” Sasori admonished.

“You’re overreacting,” she tried to laugh it off.

Her hands clenched into the sheets as she sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes darted from him to the window and back. And then she deflated, letting the fake smile slide from her mouth. “It’s alright. I might as well be sleepless in exchange for all the damage that I’ve done,” she remarked.

Sasori ran a hand through his hair. He took a step toward her.

"Darling," he sighed.

"There's nothing darling about me. I'm a murderer. It’s simple,” she retorted as she rubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands. And then, when she looked at him again, the smile was back. “You should go back to your room and actually rest. I’ll be fine,” she added.

Sasori stared at her. Unsmiling. He seemed to consider something before he opened the door.

“No maids in sight,” he grumbled as he ducked back inside.

“There rarely are. In this wing, at least,” answered Sakura with a smirk. The servants had made it clear who they supported during her many years staying here. Sasori appeared not to hear her as he slipped out of the room. He returned a few minutes later to find Sakura curled up on her side, her back to the door. She didn’t particularly want to see his face. And she thought she had won when she heard him leave. A moment later, she heard the faucets squeak and water began pouring in the bathroom. Sakura rolled onto her other side to glare at him when he returned, shirt rolled up to his elbows, hands on his hips.

“You’ll never fall back asleep like that, you know,” he said from above her. She didn’t answer him.

“Come on. Up," he then ordered as he stepped over to her and pulled her until she sat upright. Glaring at him. He cupped his face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“A warm bath does wonders for the soul, you know,” he reminded her.

Sasori retrieved her robe and placed it in her lap. He slipped out of the room. She could hear him speaking with someone on the other side of the door as she slowly undressed.

The mystery of who Sasori was speaking with ended when Haku stepped into the room. Sakura threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Honestly. Waking you up,” Sakura complained. And before the hurt could settle into Haku’s face, she added, “A growing boy needs his sleep. What is that man thinking disturbing your rest?”

A shy smile brightened Haku’s face.

“It’s alright, My Lady. I would be remiss if I slept without seeing to the needs of my mistress,” he replied. He tucked his hair behind his ear before he began moving around the room, pulling clean clothes from the armoire and placing them in a neat pile.

And because Haku had woken specifically to help her, Sakura went to take a bath without much more complaint. When she returned, he had changed the sheets and held a basket of the dirty laundry on his hip. Haku moved to set the basket down.

“Shall I dry your hair, My Lady?” he suggested. Sakura pulled on her robe over her cotton nightgown in sharp tugs. Tied the belt just a little too tight.

“No need,” Sasori interrupted, holding the door open.

Haku hesitated. He eyed the expression on Sasori’s face. And then Sakura’s.

“…Tea, My Lady?” he offered.

Sakura shook her head, gave him a wan smile.

“Go to bed once you’ve taken care of those. I’ve given you enough trouble for one night,” ordered Sakura.

Haku gave Sasori one last look before he bowed and stepped out of the room.

Sakura sank into the seat in front of the small vanity. The mirrors were a little dusty. The servants at home would have fallen ill at the sight of such lazy cleaning. She reached out with her sleeve to rub the mirror clean.

“Refreshed?” asked Sasori, shutting the door.

“I suppose,” she answered, leaning her elbow on the vanity.

"Honestly, Sakura, must I do everything? Calling for your servant. Will you ever stop being a child?" he questioned with joking exasperation in his voice.

"Apparently not," replied Sakura. His laughter died in his throat before he turned toward her.

“That’s not what I…” Sasori trailed off.

He pulled a clean towel from the pile that the Haku had left behind. Unfolded it. When he began patting her hair dry, Sakura's tense shoulders relaxed. In fact, she outright slumped. Wordlessly, he picked up her brush to begin working the tangles out of her short hair. The rhythm of the bristles through her locks and across her scalp made Sakura's eyelids grow a little heavy. When he was finished, Sasori tousled her hair again with the towel. It was still damp, but not dripping at least.

“Was it that bad?" he finally asked as he tossed the wet towel in the basket to be collected in the morning.

“It’s not just the nightmare. It’s just… all of this that’s exhausting.” Sakura closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling heavily through her nose.

“This?”

"This," Sakura repeated with a vague sweeping gesture.

"Explain," he said. It took Sakura a moment to compose her thoughts. And she opened and closed her mouth a few times before she could settle on what to say.

"My mother was always calm and composed. She was never emotional. She never woke screaming from nightmares like a child," Sakura admitted with a grimace. Sasori put his hand on her cheek to tilt her head towards him. Her eyes opened.

“Aunt Tsunade did not fight in a war. May she rest in peace, but your mother was a researcher and a princess. What great adversity did she ever face that couldn't be warded off with an almanac?" Sasori said. The gentleness in his words pierced softly into her chest. He sounded so much like his own mother.

"What of my father then?" she challenged him.

“Uncle, may he also rest in peace, was a great warrior. He feared nothing. Bowed to no one but your mother. But in private, who knows? I'm sure you can remember at least one time when your father wasn't perfect," assured Sasori.

Sakura immediately thought of the times when Father was too busy to practice sword fighting with her. There were days when he would retire to his chambers, too tired for visitors. And Mother would summon her instead, have her sit in on a day in court and follow her to her meetings. She had never thought anything of it. And trailing after those golden skirts and tapping high heels, Sakura hadn't had time to worry. Only of thought of when she would be old enough to wear such splendid gowns.

But she knew Sasori had seen the look in her eyes as she thought. Because he gave her a knowing look as he touched the back of his hand to her cheek.

"Tell me. Are you planning to concede defeat?" questioned Sasori.

“Of course not. What kind of question is that?” she answered in a question of her own. Sasori didn't smile. Instead, he knelt on the floor in front of her. Clasped her hands between his.

She knew why he did that. He lowered himself. The pride of the Haruno's ran hottest in his blood, but he still lowered himself to his younger cousin. It was surrender. And she could never ignore him when he did that.

“I am your sword and your shield. I am your hands and feet. I will move as you move. And as long as you do not give in to the Aristocratic Faction, neither will I,” he reminded her. The sincerity poured from each syllable. Like blood from an open wound.

And then he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Oh, dear cousin, if only you could pluck these eyes from my head. To see yourself as I see you. Without the titles. Without all these dirty hands pulling you in different directions.”

"Sasori," she huffed, "I'm… nothing… without titles. I'm just titles."

“How wrong you are. Titles just lie on the surface,” he insisted.

Sakura glared at him for a long moment. "Sasori," she said, letting out a hard laugh, "I am all surface."

Sasori let out a frustrated noise as he ran his hands over his face. He thought for a long moment before he reached out toward her and then pulled his hands back. Instead he sat back on his haunches, hands clasping behind his neck as he articulate the words inside his head. When he decided on what to say, he claimed her hands again.

“Your blood is the blood of a queen. Your soul is the soul of a queen. It’s not a title. Others can wear a crown, but you have always been a queen,” Sasori declared. When she didn’t say anything, he turned her to look at the mirror.

She had pink hair that curled when it was wet. She looked more and more like her mother with each year. These were all things she knew about herself. But as she watched, Sasori touched his pinkies together. Then his thumbs together. Forming a circle with his hands. He stretched his other fingers up until they stood like the jeweled edges of a crown. Slowly, he placed his hands on top of her head.

"This face was made to rule us all," he whispered. The reverence in his voice made it tremble. Their eyes met in the mirror. His glimmered like polished gold.

"Never forget this, my love. You will have that throne. And I will work until my dying breath to see it so," he swore in a low voice. With a sad smile, Sakura turned in her seat to face him. She touched his cheek.

"Sasori, you…” She didn’t know how to word how she felt. How safe she felt when she draped her arms over his shoulders. Resting her head against his chest. Just to be held. To be still.

“What would I do without you?” she sighed.

Sasori chuckled. She could feel him stroking her hair.

He didn’t say anything.

When Sakura went back to sleep, it was with her head resting in his lap, half-mumbling questions for his patient responses until she finally fell silent.

It reminded Sasori of sweeter times- days when they wrestled together in the sand and fell asleep with the sounds of pounding waves outside their windows. She snuck out of her room, climbing into his bed with a secret stash of dried fruits she had stolen from the kitchen.

Sometimes they gossiped. Sometimes they recalled the day's events with a sense of satisfaction. Sometimes Sakura cried because her mother and father were always so busy and she felt selfish if she asked for anything.

It didn't matter.

Happy or sad, they curled together, whispers tangling into whispers that Sasori always imagined drifting out between the wrinkles in the blanket and drifting out on the sea breeze. And maybe they would carry out all the way to a man sitting in his fishing boat at night with his sunburned head nodding. And those tangled wishes would slip into his ears and he might shed a tear too for the sweet girl who loved her parents too much.

Looking down at the grown woman resting so peacefully in his lap now, Sasori almost felt like shedding a tear for her too. He pushed a lock of her hair out of her face.

"Your Majesty," he sighed into the night. His breaths soft and calm, even as his mind raced with all the things he needed to do in the morning.

+++

They would have stayed in Whiteriver Keep for the rest of the season. It was nearly August- the seas were usually rough around this time of year. Even some of the most experienced sailors and merchants were reluctant to go out very far into the waves. Storms were known to brew up suddenly, capsizing ships and dashing them against rocky shores.

But one morning Kushina asked Sakura if she would like to become part of her usual garden parties where noble ladies sat around fanning themselves and gossiping.

“It’s an opportunity for you to get acquainted with some ladies your age. You’re always surrounded with dour-looking men. It could be a nice change of pace, don’t you think?” she suggested.

Itachi and Sasuke eyed Sakura’s expression. Sasuke’s gaze then darted to his brother. He opened his mouth to intervene. But then Itachi’s hand shot out to grab Sasuke’s wrist. When Sasuke shot him a look, Itachi just shook his head.

They both looked when Sakura spoke.

“Surely Your Grace must know that the peace and prosperity of your kingdom is thanks to these ‘dour-looking men’. They are the soldiers who have bled for this country. I myself would not be alive if not for their support,” answered Sakura.

Kushina’s smile faded a bit. “I was actually referring to those… guards… you brought back from the south.” She gave a pointed look to one of the mercenaries, who stood behind Sakura.

Sakura hadn’t been clued in on all the details, but apparently they had decided that one of them would be at her side at all times. They seemed to have come up with their own shifts. They didn’t interfere in her day-to-day life at all.

The one standing by her now was called Chojuro. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. For a moment, their eyes met. And then Sakura smirked.

“Well, Your Grace, I wouldn’t need mercenaries if I had been provided with a retainer by my guardians during my coming-of-age ceremony,” scoffed Sakura. “So you’ll have to bear with it for the time being.”

Sakura and her traveling party were gone the following morning. No message left behind. No provisions taken from the kitchens. Just silence in the spaces she and her companions had occupied.

“Is it alright not to say anything? What if they think you’ve been kidnapped?” Itachi wondered.

“They won’t. And even if they do, they wouldn’t send anyone after me,” Sakura responded. Her hands tightening on the reins.

The trip up to Whitewave was much easier. They stopped at inns and traded tales over warm meals and sweet alcohol. When they arrived at the port city, Sasori’s ship sat waiting in the dock. The scrubbed hull gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. The tides aren’t right to leave the port tonight,” Sasori had decided with one look at the water.

The small Haruno manor was ready for them with clean rooms and fresh supplies. Supper was filling. The wine was fruity and sweet, just the way Sakura preferred.

Sasuke went to bed soon after their meal. As did Sasori, who she knew would be up before anyone else, preparing the ship for their journey on the waters.

“Sweet dreams, love,” Sasori murmured as he kissed her cheek. And then turned her head to kiss the other one. He bid Itachi a good night as well before he left the salon.

It was quiet with just the two of them. Not in an uncomfortable way. But in the way where there was so much that they could discuss that they ended up saying nothing at all.

“… It’s a bit warm in here. Shall we move to the balcony?” Itachi suggested.

Her glass of wine resting in her left palm. Itachi’s hand resting in her right. Sakura stood in the muggy sea breeze.

“You seem troubled,” he observed.

“I am,” she admitted.

“I wish I knew how to help.”

Smiling, she laid her head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to,” she assured him.

In the morning, Sasori’s ship set sail from the port.

Even though the crew of the ship should have been worried about the weather, they covered any hint of fear with the usual laughter. They traded stories with the Seven Swordsmen and immediately seemed to take a liking to one another. Rather than join them after supper for their jokes and stories, Sakura excused herself, sitting on top of crates with Itachi and wondering if the odd shapes in the distance were dolphins or whales. But when he retired for the night, she slipped under the deck to see if she could find a decent bottle of wine.

The ship was made of wood. And it rocked on the waves, creaking and groaning without cease. But for Sakura, who had grown up on the water, she knew what was to be expected and what was strange.

And Sakura heard a strange thump from inside the cargo hold.

She turned back on her heel, her sword pulling quietly from the scabbard.

Exhaling slowly through her nose, she waited for a few more heartbeats. There was the noise again. She took a few steps toward it, waiting. There was the thump one more time, a little louder.

Standing in front of a barrel, Sakura considered her options. But after deciding that it wasn't worth alerting everyone above, she tapped the barrel with the hilt of her sword. It didn't sound hollow but it didn't sound like it was full of liquid either. She tapped the barrel one more time before she took a deep breath and sliced through the rope holding the lid in place. When she ripped the top off, she saw a pale face with huge violet eyes staring up at her.

"Ino," Sakura sighed. She lowered her sword to her side, glowering at her friend.

"Hi," Ino replied with a silly little wave. The boat rocked on a particularly big set of waves and the barrel tipped over. Ino's barrel rolled across the floor, spinning back and forth until Sakura finally planted her foot on it, stopping it in its tracks.

"I should throw you overboard," Sakura remarked. Ino craned her neck to glare up at her.

"You don't have enough friends to do that. Help me out," Ino retorted. Sakura considered this for a moment before she bent over to offer her hand to Ino.

“What are you doing here, Ino?” Sakura sighed.

“Father’s been talking about marrying me off to Colonel Hyuuga. So I’m here to give him time to reconsider that awful plan,” griped Ino without hesitation. Sakura pulled her to her feet, giving a sympathetic grimace.

“Running away from home won’t solve anything. Your father is a negotiator. If he wants it, he makes it happen,” Sakura reminded her. But Ino just gave her a smug look.

“And what will he negotiate with when that dear, marriageable daughter of his nowhere to be found?” challenged Ino.

Sakura leveled her with a stare. Thinking.

“This is temporary. You need to solve this another way,” Sakura finally relented. Ino threw her arms around Sakura in a hug.

“Thank you! I will!” Ino squealed. And then she pulled away, arms still looped around Sakura’s neck. “Now, introduce me to these mercenaries everyone is talking about. Are they handsome?”

“…Oh, Ino,” Sakura sighed.

+++

Sakura and her party returned to the Southern Tea Isle just before the beginning of the second planting season of the year.

After summer monsoons, fallen trees and debris washed in with storms made for good fertilizer for the new set of crops. Though everyone wanted to throw the usual feast to welcome the travelers back, Sakura waved their suggestions aside with the upcoming planting season as an excuse. There were fields to be tilled, seeds to be planted, and ditches to be dug for irrigation.

The latest batch of silkworms had also just been harvested. Bolts of silk were sent out to the various workshops where workers dyed the precious fabric in a rainbow of colors. The stains from the dye lingered on their hands for weeks at a time. Window ledges and door frames often sported pigmented handprints.

The port was thick with merchants shipping off the finished silk as well as barrels of tea leaves. And as more products went out, more merchants came back with ships heavy with imported goods. The market became an even livelier place than normal.

Kankuro was even more cheerful than usual upon their arrival.

"Happy? Of course I am. This year's profits are even greater than last year's," chortled Kankuro when Itachi commented on his good mood. Gaara's expression was contrastingly grim as he pressed a light kiss to Sakura's cheek in greeting. Sakura's gaze flitted to Temari standing in the archway, her spear gripped tightly in her white-knuckled hand. Their eyes met. Temari slowly shook her head, gold earrings tinkling with each swaying movement.

When everyone else had exchanged hellos, and Sasuke and Haku went off to unpack, and Kankuro escorted Ino on a tour of the palace, Sakura grasped Gaara's arm, pulling him to sit beside her on the bench in the middle of the room. Itachi lingered for a moment, gaze sweeping from his brother's retreating back and then to Sakura. His foot rose and then fell. Itachi walked back over to their side, dark eyes tight with worry. Sakura met his look with a slight smile before she turned her attention back to Gaara.

"Speak to me," she said, her hands covering his. His thin shoulders sagged.

"Father," spat Temari in response. Itachi's eyes widened.

“Isn’t he gone?” he wondered.

“Father disowned Temari. And me. Our names have been removed from the family register,” Gaara reported.

“…Does Kankuro know?” questioned Sakura.

Gaara shook his head. His shoulders sagged.

From an archway, Sasori suddenly spoke up: “I will have him removed from the surface of this planet, then. I tire of that man.”

Sakura said nothing as she cupped Gaara's cheek in her hand. He turned toward the touch though his eyes refused to meet hers.

"You mustn't. The elders would never approve. And you yourself always speak of how vital our ties to them are…especially now," he insisted. He squared his jaw. But that only made him look smaller- somehow frailer.

“He’s sending a message. That he has power over me. Even from so far away,” whispered Gaara. He clenched his hands. Unclenched them.

“Without Father, we have no inheritance. No income. No place in the family crypt…” He seemed to lose himself in the consequences. Fell silent.

She tilted her head to look at him. The dark shadows of sleeplessness under his eyes seemed darker than before. But there was a glint of something fierce in his expression as he thought. It was small and so frail at the moment. Even in his battered shame, the calculations whirring in his eyes was undoubtedly Haruno.

“You’re my family. You have nothing to fear,” Sakura assured him. Sakura put her arm around him and pulled him close to her chest. “You can inherit something small from me. Maybe that villa in the Caldera that you like so much. I’ll take care of you. As you’ve always cared for me.” She noted, with a twinge of pride, that Gaara did not weep. He trembled, the thrum of delicate hummingbirds' wings in her embrace. But his eyes remained stubbornly dry.

Soon, it was time for the group to dissolve.

Sakura took a step back when she felt Itachi looking at her. “What?” she asked.

“It’s just…” Itachi hesitated. He met her eyes. “I feel like I should say something. But it doesn’t seem to be my place.”

She squinted at him. “Then why not make it your place?” she suggested. And then she looked toward her cousins’ retreating backs. She watched Temari put her arm around her youngest brother’s shoulders.

“Temari. Gaara.”

They stopped. Looking back at her. She looked to Itachi.

“You should talk to your brother. He should know what’s going on,” advised Itachi.

Temari and Gaara exchanged looks.

Sasori cleared his throat. “Being forthright isn’t one of our family’s strengths, Your Highness,” Sasori pointed out.

“Then you can make it one,” Itachi answered, unflinching, “One of my biggest regrets is that I assumed my brother would understand me even if I didn’t speak to him. But silence only breeds misgivings.”

The smile had disappeared from Sasori’s face. “Yes, but there are times when silence is kinder.”

“Sasori is right. If Kankuro knows, he’ll only feel guilt over something unchangeable. What point is there in making him suffer?” Sakura wondered.

Itachi looked directly into her eyes as he countered. “Shouldn’t he be allowed to decide how he should or shouldn’t feel?”

As Sakura considered this, she tilted her head a little. And then she turned her attention back to her cousins. “It’s your decision. I think the prince just wanted to offer some options,” she assured them. Temari nodded. She nudged Gaara and they continued walking down the path.

“Did I overstep?” she could hear Itachi worry, probably to himself. It was a soft interruption to her own stewing thoughts.

She held her hand out to him. “How about we take a walk?” she offered.

It was strange how easy it was to smile at him. And how easily he smiled back. How he slipped his hand into hers without any hesitation.

“I’d like that,” he replied.

That night, long after everyone had gone to bed, Sakura found herself sitting in the Lavender Pavilion. Nothing had kept her up in particular. Her bed was soft. Her room was clean. Sleep just seemed to be somewhere far from her.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard footsteps.

“For someone so rich, you spend an awful lot of time brooding.”

As she lifted her chin, she spotted Kisame crossing the mosaic.

“For the money I pay you, you spend an awful lot of time spouting nonsense,” she retorted. The mercenary smirked. He held up an envelope.

“A message for you.”

Sakura accepted it. She appraised Kisame. His easy posture.

“It’s been quiet lately. Perhaps I employed you for nothing,” she commented.

Kisame ran his tongue over his teeth. And then he chuckled. “Being in your service has kept us… on our toes,” he remarked. And then he glanced at her. “Maybe you should consider being nicer, General.”

“I’m always nice,” answered Sakura.

He laughed again at that.

Kisame had obviously not taken her seriously when she had explained that his duty was to keep her alive. But within the first week of entering her service, he had fended off so many assassins and discovered so many poison plots that he wondered how she even slept at night.  (“Fitfully,” she had answered when he had thought to ask.) Things had improved since they had arrived on the island, but even then, she kept them busy.

Because when there weren’t active threats against her life, she made good use of the Swordsmen of the Mist’s connections. They had contacts in many cities and countries. She tested how much their names were worth and found herself more than satisfied.

Mangetsu determined that the poison discovered in the geraniums in her office was powdered belladonna. Tasteless and odorless. Not a plant that grew in abundance in the kingdom. It did, however, grow in the territories governed by Baron Aburame.

As Sakura pondered over this, Ino, sitting next to Sakura, filing her nails, clicked her tongue. “Honestly, such an obtuse plan. Obviously, everyone would point at the Aburame family first. And then Father could accuse the Baron of trying to ruin our family.”

“It’s a good thing I warned you in my letter. Aren’t you thankful for a friend like me?” she went on. And then, answered by silence, Ino looked up.

“A letter?” Sakura repeated.

“Yes. A letter.”

Narrowing her eyes, Ino pointed her file at her. “You didn’t read it,” she accused.

Laughing, Sakura waved a hand. “Of course I did.”

Lips puckering to one side, Ino glanced around.

“And I can’t believe that we've been friends all these years and you haven't invited me home with you once!" Ino exclaimed as she spun around in a circle. Sakura shot her a sideways glance as she signed at the bottom of the page.

"I can’t believe that you stowed away. What were you even thinking?" Sakura admonished in return. Ino rolled her eyes, flicking her fan open with an unnecessarily loud noise.

"Your parents are going to be worried sick. Write home to them at once. I'm sending you back once the seas calm. This is no time for you to be wandering about," Sakura continued. Ino's eyes narrowed. She fanned herself too hard before snapping it shut.

"So you did read my letter," Ino mused. She took big steps over. She sank into the chair just in front of the desk. Ignoring the look Sakura gave her, Ino put her elbows up on the table. Sakura said nothing as she handed off a stack of papers to Gaara. Only when her pen was back in its proper stand did Sakura turn to look Ino full in the face.

"Ino, I fully appreciate you trying to warn me. And I know that there are few friends such as you in the world. But you putting yourself in danger does nothing for either of us," Sakura said as sternly as she could without yelling. Ino looked unimpressed.

"…If you're hurt in any way because you didn't listen to me…I'll be very upset with you," relented Sakura as she looked back to her old friend.

"Oh please, Sakura. When have I ever been obedient?" Ino retorted with a fierce smile.

Trying very hard not to roll her eyes, Sakura gestured for her to carry on.

“Just… cause minimal chaos, please,” was all Sakura asked.

Filled with glee at the prospect of not being shipped home, Ino fluttered around peppering Sakura with gossip and distractions until Sakura threw her hands up in defeat. Her hired mercenaries, who had taken to lazing around her office or hiding up in the rafters, snickered at the spectacle.

"Why not break for an early lunch?" sighed Sakura with a pointed glare for Ino. Ino only giggled. Sakura sent a servant to inform the rest of her guests before she stamped a few last forms. Itachi and Sasuke soon joined them, Sasori on their heels. Kankuro would join soon, Sasori quietly informed her in her ear. Sakura nodded.

"Goodness, that's right. I recently received a new lady's maid and she's been an absolute delight. She's a darling one," Ino laughed with a wave of her fan as they moved together to one of the bigger pavilions that could accommodate them for a meal.

"Really? Either she's either extremely patient or extremely deaf in order to tolerate you," retorted Sakura. Ino didn't bother to pout in response to the jab, even as the rest of the group chuckled at her expense. Instead, Ino smacked Sakura on the arm with her fan.

"For your information, I am an absolute gem when I want to be. But truly, Sakura, I think you would like her. Her name's Moegi. She's young but she's really quite capable," insisted Ino with another smack for emphasis.

Sakura's steps stilled for a moment. And the entire procession stopped as they turned to see what had happened. Sakura's mouth was frozen in the same easy smile. Inside her mind, however, floodgates burst open.

The probability that a young, unmarried girl named Moegi, who was also equipped with the knowledge and manners to serve a noble lady, existing in two neighboring countries was not zero. However, the easiest explanation would be that it was in fact the same girl. Sakura's thoughts whirled to the mercenaries still strolling on ahead of her without any idea that she had stopped walking.

Her mind rifled through their faces like pages in a book. On Suigetsu, however, she found herself unable to flip past. A tiny seedling of suspicion that had been growing in her gut since the day they had first met burst into full bloom. She sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"The soldier from the tavern," she hissed.

‘Well, if rumors are right, I don't think you have much need for us. Word gets around, you know, General.’

‘Well… they say not to make an enemy of you, General.’

The same, easy smirk.

Sakura's hands clenched into fists as she called out Kisame's name. It was only then that the mercenaries stopped walking.

“General?” replied Kisame with his usual pleasant ease.

"Tell me. You’re not soldiers. Desertion in the military affords arrest. What are your thoughts?”

Sakura could feel Sasori's eyes drilling into the side of her face as he tried to see what was going on inside her head. Kisame scratched at the stubble on his chin.

"Well…if any of these lot betrayed us... we'd kill him without question. But they're free to take on other contracts as long as they don't conflict with ones we already hold. Oh and if one of them goes off on his own for a bit, we expect him to bring back a little something for the rest of us," Kisame thought out loud as he considered the question.

Sakura didn't say anything as she began walking again. Her brain was bursting with information now. In fact, she had all the pieces she needed. She laughed.

"You make yourselves sound like an overbearing wife," she commented. She elicited chuckles from the rest of the group as they also continued alongside her.

In the middle of the laughter, Sakura whirled. Her forearm connected hard with Suigetsu's throat, slamming him against the wall. Eyes narrowed, she ignored his scratching against her arm. She only lifted him higher, until his toes barely skimmed the floor.

"Suigetsu…hmm… I've been thinking for the past few weeks why your name seemed so familiar to me," she began in a low voice, silky and sweet. Suigetsu's face began to turn red. He clawed harder against her sleeve, gasping for breath. He gasped for help but Kisame's sharp eyes darted from his panicked look to the cold steel of anger in Sakura's glare before he folded his arms over his chest. Waiting.

"And then, it struck me as odd that I'd met a young man with just the same name in Ispolin earlier this summer," Sakura went on.

Sasuke let out a hissing noise as the pieces clicked together for him as well.

Sakura dropped Suigetsu. He slid down the wall, crumpling to his knees. Wheezing and grasping his neck, he glared up at her with watering eyes. His gaze snapped to Sasori as a sword scraped out of the scabbard. The Admiral pressed the point of his blade to the soft flesh of his throat.

"So tell me, Suigetsu," Sakura said with a smile, "Who the hell are you?"

He bared his teeth at her in a shaking sneer.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," he coughed. Blood pooled at the tip of Sasori's sword.

"I do love a good story," Sasori whispered with eyes full of flame.

When Suigetsu glanced up at him, Mangetsu moved to take a step forward. Kisame's arm across his chest blocked his path forward.

"Your brother's made his choices. The pretty lady's bought us with her coin. You can't interfere," Kisame grunted. Grinding his teeth together, Mangetsu shot him a venomous look before he folded his arms across his chest. Seeing that no one would come to his aid, Suigetsu hissed out a long sigh.

When Sasori dug the sword in a little harder, Suigetsu only scowled. Sakura read the defiance in his expression. The bangles on her arm jangled together as she waved a hand at Sasori. Though Sasori made a face like he had a sour taste in his mouth, he reluctantly lowered his weapon.

"Thank you," Suigetsu sniffed. Rubbing at his neck, he glared around at the gathered group. Droplets of blood wetted his palm.

"Well…since I've got such a rapt audience…" he mused. The sharp look Sakura gave him wiped the smirk right off his face.

"Big Boss lets us take independent contracts from time to time. I was gambling in a pub while we were passing through the Forest Kingdom. A man joined our table, wanted to play a round of cards with me. Asked if I wanted to make a lot of money fast," Suigetsu recalled knuckles rubbing at his chin as he spoke. He jabbed a thumb in Kisame's direction when he saw Sasuke raising his eyebrows.

"I'm no fool. I asked some questions. He said all I had to do was play soldier for a few months in the Mountain Kingdom's castle. He gave me 500 gold pieces up front. 500 for after I'd finished the job."

"And?" Sakura prompted.

"'And' nothing. I did the job. Took some notes and left them in various points in the city. At the end of the summer, I was a richer man," shrugged Suigetsu.

"He brought home his earnings. Gave us 100 pieces and we split the profits," Kisame interjected. Sakura nodded at him once. Then, she slowly tilted her head back towards Suigetsu. Arms folding across her chest, she observed him slouched on the ground.

"What sort of notes?" she queried in a soft voice. Suigetsu swallowed thickly. Suddenly it seemed like Sakura's irises were twin suns blazing down on him.

"Just- just little observations on where you were going with the prince here. Nothing treacherous!" Suigetsu spat, his shoulders rising high to his ears. At this, Sakura's gaze flitted to Sasuke. The prince's jaw was set in a firm line as he took in the interrogation. His palm rested flat on the hilt of his sword, not quite curling around it.

"Espionage, then," Sakura translated. Sasori's cheek twitched a little, as did his sword.

A gull screeched once before Sakura shifted her weight to her left leg. The toe of her boot scuffed against the wooden walkway. As she lifted her face, she met Itachi's stare. Very slowly, Itachi moved his head to the left and then to the right.

"Who was your client?" she questioned. Her voice, to its credit, was steady. It expressed a calm that she certainly didn't feel inside her churning gut. Sasori seethed. He had the look of a man who had swallowed a hundred needles. Something sinister glittered in his gaze as he looked from the young man to Sakura.

At the ensuing silence, Sasori slowly lifted his blade. The tip skimmed Suigetsu's chin before coming to rest as light as a butterfly on his upper lip.

"It was a masked man in a cloak. I never saw his face," Suigetsu admitted. He grimaced at the cold touch of metal on his mouth.

"What sort of mask?" pressed Sasori. Suigetsu's eyes flickered down to the sword still balanced delicately under his nose.

"I don't know much more," insisted Suigetsu. Gritting his teeth, Sasori jerked his blade up. The point caught the edge of Suigetsu's nostril, drawing blood. Suigetsu jerked his head back.

"Argh- a white mask! Just eyeholes and some kind of stripe on the chin! That's all I saw, I swear!" Suigetsu exclaimed.

"Sasori," Sakura called in a sharp reprimand.

Clicking his tongue, Sasori sheathed his sword. Suigetsu fell forward. His palms slapped down on the floor to stop his face from crashing down first. He heaved a huge breath. Blood still dripping from his nose as he stole a glance at Sakura. She stood as still as a statue. The only that moved about her was her short hair swaying in the salty breeze.

A bead of sweat traveled down the side of Suigetsu's face. As he fixed his hair, his hands shook so hard that he could barely sweep his bangs out of his eyes. He rubbed his sleeve across his nose, smearing blood across his face.

"What should we do with him?" Sasori demanded. Suigetsu froze. His eyes flickered hard from Sasori, to his brother, and then to Kisame. Mangetsu's mashed lips contorted into a strange shape. The glint of his canine between his lips said enough about his thoughts.

There was an agonizingly long pause. Sakura took her time considering.

Her pride screamed loudest. To be caught unaware of such a scheme was embarrassing. Next, her sense of self-preservation. The prickly desperation to shield herself from all harm nagged at her tongue.

Execute him. That's what a queen does, the voice in her head whispered. As if he could hear that voice too, Sasori gave her a nod.

Her eyes found Itachi again. And as if she had called him, he took a step toward her. Softly, his hand came to rest on her forearm. As his fingers curled around her, she felt the warmth. The piercing sadness in his eyes said it all.

Sakura let out a long sigh before she turned her attention to Kisame. Arms folded across his chest, he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You can't kill him. I need him," he simply said.

A small smile quirked at Sakura's lips. She let out a soft huff of laughter.

"Then that is all," declared Sakura.

"Base treachery," Temari hissed under her breath. She gripped her spear a little more tightly, skin creaking against the wooden shaft.

"No reason to worry, Temari," Sakura assured her. She knelt down, knees pressing against her chest. With one finger, she reached out to lift Suigetsu's trembling chin.

"This is already my dog. I've bought him," she declared. Her stare bored into Suigetsu until he slowly jerked his head up and down in a nod.

The rest of the day passed too quickly. Suddenly, it was night again.

Sakura fell back onto the bed as she organized her thoughts. Sasori, of course, was investigating the identity of the masked man. They both suspected that he had something to do with Moegi's position both in the palace in Ispolin and as Ino's lady’s maid.

Kisame had sent Suigetsu to go gather information on the masked man on his end.

At first, Suigetsu had balked at the idea. But Kisame’s fingers closing around his throat and slamming him to the ground had quickly silenced his protest.

“Client’s not happy. You shut it and do as the lady says,” snarled Kisame. Which had ended the argument at once.

Sakura closed her eyes. Kneading her knuckles into her temples. Even a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth didn't help the strange knot that had twisted her stomach. The frustration mounted higher and higher until she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her ribcage.

She sat up and moved to the window, staring up at the clear night sky. As the countless stars swirled together in dizzying circles, she imagined falling upwards into the vast expanse of the cosmos, twisting and drifting with the heartbeats of life too. Normally, the stars filled her with a numbness that made it easier to calm herself. But even that wasn’t enough on this night.

Sakura slipped out of her room. The guards acted like they didn’t see her. She walked and she walked. Wandering. Aimlessly. Until she found herself curled up on the floor of her aunt’s favorite room. Her head resting on the older woman’s lap. Blue smoke leaking from the tip of Kurenai’s pipe as she stroked her free hand through Sakura’s hair.

“It’s rare for you to act so spoiled,” Kurenai remarked.

“Do you hate it?” Sakura heard herself asking. Her own voice sounded far away.

“No, child. Rest. I’ll watch over you,” murmured Kurenai, pressing a kiss to her temple.

+++

At the end of the summer, the Southern Tea Isle gave thanks to the goddess for the harvests. It was different from the harvest festivals that would take place on the mainland in a couple months.

The islanders lit shrines of flowers and palm trees as offering pyres, adding fuel and oil until the tides came in and swept the altars into the ocean. The elders would pick through the wet debris in the morning, divining fortunes from cracks in the scorched wood. They drew their findings into the damp sand with wrinkled fingers, children crowding around their skinny legs to peek at the mysterious drawings. The adults were seldom there for the last part of the ritual. Most were busy rising for the start of another busy day.

Sakura sat in the throne room.

The servants had long ago finished their chores and gone to the beach on the northern side of the island to join in the celebration. Normally she would partake in the celebrations, throwing palm fronds into the flames and listening to the oily leaves crackle. She would drink and eat and mingle with the people she so loved from the bottom of her heart.

But there was unease in her chest, a tight knot that almost made her feel sick. It had moved in there ever since she had returned to the island. Settling in like an unwelcome houseguest.

Her palm smoothed over the carved arm of the throne. Sasori rose from his seat on the floor beside her. He leaned his elbow on the throne, hovering over her as he took in her expression.

“At the very least I should make an appearance,” he declared.

“Go,” was all she said. She frowned as she stared back out at the rolling waves.

Sakura knew that her absence wouldn’t upset anyone. No one would scold her or gossip. They would worry about her in the morning. Ask whether she had felt unwell. She would say that she did. And the servants would brew her teas for her health. Bring her her favorite foods. Their kindness was as dependable and as unchanging as the sound of waves that filled her every breath.

Sometimes, she almost wanted to hate them for how good they were to her.

“Are you alright?”

How did he always find her like that?

With that gentle smile that asked for nothing. That plotted nothing.

A necklace of flowers hung from Itachi’s neck. The smell of woodsmoke clung faintly to his shirt as he smiled down at her.

“Will you go somewhere with me?” Sakura asked.

“Of course,” he replied.

When she took his hand, he followed her pull without complaint. She grasped one of the lanterns by the metal ring on top. They drifted like ghosts through the doorless palace.

They walked down a long corridor that Itachi had never seen before. The white curtains blew in toward them, skimming against their hands as they pushed past.

Before long, they were in the center of the complex maze of rooms and walkways. There was a rare door that Sakura pushed open with one hand. The soft light of her lantern illuminated a long hallway without windows. Their hands pulled apart. Her bare feet slapped against the cool stone as she turned, looking for something. It took a moment for Itachi's eyes to adjust but then he realized that the walls were covered in frames. He followed the warm orange glow until he found her hand again and grasped it. She was standing directly in front of one of the frames, her eyes somehow sad as she studied it.

The portrait was of Sakura, her long hair in elegant waves across her shoulders. In her outstretched right hand were seeds. In the left was a slender silver scepter. Itachi's gaze trailed over the wide eyes and the hint of baby fat in her cheeks. There was something sparkling and clear in her stare that belied her age.

"How old were you?" he questioned.

"Eight. I became Duchess. This was the day of my ceremony," answered Sakura almost in a nostalgic sigh. After a while, she pulled them back further into the room to a portrait of a beautiful woman with long blonde hair. Itachi immediately saw it in the curl of her smile and the round shape of her golden eyes.

"Your mother," he whispered, somehow afraid to speak in a louder voice.

"Queen Tsunade, twelfth generation of the Haruno dynasty of the Forest Kingdom. She was the ruler who introduced clinics within the districts of the nation to promote better health. These clinics are now largely defunct due to a lack of funding," Sakura said. Itachi felt her hand begin to shake. Not knowing what to say, he pulled her on toward the next picture.

"Queen Chiyo, eleventh generation of the Haruno dynasty of the Forest Kingdom. She was originally the consort but ascended in her own right after the death of my Grandfather. People say she was as sharp-witted as she was beautiful. She died long before I was born." There was an impish curl to this queen's mouth. Her eyes glittered, as if she was laughing from inside the portrait. Her inky hair hung in glossy curls all the way down to her waist. But the longer he looked, the more he could pick out the little fragments of Sakura. The point of her chin, the darker skin the color of warmed caramel that echoed vaguely in Sakura.

They went on, walking down the line of portraits as if in a museum. There were kings, as well as queens. Some were dark-skinned with hair the color of the midnight sky. Others were fairer with hair the color of pomegranate seeds. They were all young and all beautiful in different ways. At the very end of the darkened hallway, when there was no way to go back any further, Sakura hesitated. This frame was covered in a shroud of dusty black silk. Taking a deep breath, she dragged the fabric down to reveal a woman with a shock of silver hair that fell to her waist.

Her burning eyes were the same color as Sakura's. Though the rest of the Haruno women had been attractive to say the least, there was an edge of cruelty to this woman's beauty. Even the curve of her smile seemed frigid somehow. Her cheekbones were sharp, neck slender and long.

The fingers of her right hand held onto a red rose while her right hand was curled around a gauzy white bride's veil. The glimmer of her golden wedding band seemed somehow sinister.

"Queen Kaguya, first generation of the Haruno dynasty. The mother to us all," Sakura uttered with a slight shake of her head.

"She captivated the then king of the Forest Kingdom- wrapped him around her finger until he offered her everything in his coffers, every piece of land he owned. She married him and began slowly introducing members of her family into court until there wasn't a minister who didn't have the whispers of a Haruno in his ear. He died mysteriously in his sleep one night. But no one in court was able to point a finger at her either," recalled Sakura. She had grown up on stories of the infamous Shadow Queen.

"There wasn't even a hearing? A tribunal?" Itachi questioned.

"No. The nobles were all either too enamored with her to care or too terrified to speak up. There have certainly been bloodier beginnings to dynasties but I still can't call her blameless," sighed Sakura.

"Then Mother, should I be like Queen Kaguya or is it wrong to be like her?" Sakura remembered asking as she sat in her mother's lap. Time had blurred the shapes of her mother's face. All Sakura could make out was the shape of her mother's hand as it descended to stroke the top of her head.

"Women need to be strong in order to survive," she parroted her mother's words from then.

Itachi silently observed her face for a while before he lifted their joined hands to kiss her knuckles. Sakura turned toward him with a questioning look.

"You're not like her, if that's what's making you look so worried," he assured her before she even asked.

Before the painted eyes of her ancestors, Sakura pressed herself close to Itachi's side and allowed herself, just for a moment, to believe those words.

+++

<Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14>

#itasaku #writing #amaryllis #fanfiction #courtly intrigue! au

[nisaadventures]

I’m turning 30 in 10 days... yikes.

The last year of my life has sucked... lol. Okay, it wasn’t all bad. I’m exaggerating... but I’m also not. I know there were plenty of nice moments in the last year... but when I think about the last year of my life, its just full of so many firsts... awful firsts... 

First time celebrating their birthdays without them...

First holiday season without them... anyone else miss mom’s turkey? Most people don’t like traditional thanksgiving dinner because the turkey is more often dry... mom’s was never dry... Okay the key people.. Don’t actually cook your stuffing in the turkey. Its just going to suck all the juice life out of your bird... I mean come on. Trick #1 stuff the turkey with fresh cut oranges and yes, you can leave the skin on... #2 do majority of the oven time in an oven bag to keep the moisture in. #3 cook breasts down. Its the part thats usually most dry, so duh... keep it in the juicy, buttery goodness of the pan. I never made the entire meal, I usually just helped mom with everything. These are just some things I’ve taken away in my observations. 

Halloween trip to Disneyland without them... Disney is always a good time, but I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t feel heavy in some way... and that is saying something because Disneyland is my happy place lol. 

Looking forward to 2020... Hoping that it had so much better in store for us. 

Dear lord... what a joke. 

Going to Hawaii for our “family trip” without them...

A pandemic without them... I mean yes, I’m thankful they aren’t out there with COVID on the rise... I’m glad they’re not stuck at home because COVID. Mom and Michael are both too much of busy bees to be cooped up in the house for too long. 

Not going to lie... picking up where they left has been hard. All of moms plants... The dogs.. Taking care of the backyard, where Michael usually would. Mom would definitely do too much at once. She’d be out in the yard planting something and pulling out something else in her damn UGG boots! wth mom?! Those are expensive! lol. “Oh its fine.. I’ll wash them.” Omg lol. Either that, or she’d be over here trying to move heavy a$$ pots by herself and I’d have to stop her before she hurt her back. Ayiyi. 

Keanu and Aria’s birthdays without them... seeing my babies sad and missing their grandma, grandpa, and aunties has been hard. It will be out of nowhere sometimes... and all the nights of Aria waking up in the middle of the night crying. I feel you baby girl... I get it. I miss them too... Its okay to be sad... Mantras... 

You were her little rays of sunshine. Grandpa and grandma loved you SOOOO much. 

Mom would babysit the kids on Saturday mornings, while Kuya, Vaness, and I went to workout. They’d go get breakfast, pancakes and eggs, at UJs. She’d take them to Target, the dollar store, Walmart, etc. just so they could look and maybe get something to play with together. She always crafted with them. 

Living in this house... especially with COVID... has been hard. I miss just sitting at the dinner table, eating sho mi, and talking about work. Mom and Michael getting all worked up over some crazy manager, or something going down with the union.. yup, that’s where I get it from... advocacy and leadership skills FTW.  One thing they could always talk about for HOURS was work lol. 

I remember when I was a little girl, Mom would let me play in the bathtub until I was all wrinkled. She would let me bring all my toys into the tub. At one point I even had a care bear doll that she, for some reason, let me take in the bath lol. She’d throw it in the dryer for me after I was done. 

I remember going to the grocery store with mom and leaving with two full a$$ grocery carts because we had a full house at all times. I mean it was Kuya, my cousin Jojo, my brother Derric, my cousin John, Bubba, my cousin Jay, me and whoever else was over the house lol. When Kuya was in high school, it was all of his buddies partying at our house and crashing on the floor in the living room, dining room, and all the couches. She was the #1 host for sure.

“Are you hungry? Did you eat yet?” 

Thats love. 

All of Kuya’s high school friends called her Mom. My friends called her Mama Fern. She loved that. 

I remember playing hide n go seek in the dark in our tiny town house.. Later in the bigger house on Glenbriar... where mom actually tripped and broke her arm... But she laughed so hard she peed her pants, so she was a good sport? lol. Needless to say, we sort of stopped playing after that.

I remember making dim sum with mom for the first time. Such a hot mess, flour and food everywhere, but so fun. We definitely didn’t do that again until there were more adults around to help lol. Mom knew how to run through a kitchen like a tornado. Hot mess! but the best cook. 

Mom was always careful. She always wanted to make sure we were safe, that I was safe. I couldn’t go outside unless one of the boys was with me. When I would swim she would get nervous, even though I learned how to swim at a young age thanks to Kuya. One day, we were having a bbq, lots of family over, I was playing in the jacuzzi (drawing on the wall of the jacuzzi with a piece of chlorine... don’t play with chemicals kids lol) and she thought I was drowning? So she jumps her a$$ in there fully clothed and yanks my a$$ out. I was shocked as hell, so I naturally started crying hella hard and complaining about the fact that she scratched me when she yanked me up out of the water lol.

Keep in mind that that was not the first time one of the twins jumped into the pool fully clothed to “save” someone hahaha. 

 Speaking of fully clothed in the pool... The time auntie tripped and fell slo-mo style (that questionable, are you going to catch your balance, speed) into the pool LOL. Mom was dead laughing at her. Most hilarious video. 

Those twins lol. 

Jeeze.. speaking of the twins. They had this crazy connection. Tell me why when mom got sick with suspected viral meningitis and had to be hospitalized... Auntie straight up followed her right into the ICU with viral meningitis... 

Who remembers their 50th birthday? Talk about doing it BIG. So much fun. All the performances. Lani was there... KMA performances and kuya and John getting down for Maglalatik. Who doesn’t like seeing some half naked, buff dudes, bang coconuts together? haha. The twins getting down with their hula performance. Cute!

I remember when Mom and pops were going through their divorce and she would text me after midnight. I was going to Sac State and of course I was team NO sleep at the time. I would be in the AIRC studying. I’d comfort as best as I could from a distance... and then come home on weekends to be there with her when I could. 

She found her footing again. Started going to the gym with Kuya more... Started running all the time... all of her half marathons and finally she did the Nike Women’s Marathon. 

Hiking Half Dome with her. What.a.badass. 

That is really how I see her. She was so badass. When she was my age she had my 9 year old Kuya and I was on the way... She was working and supporting us and then eventually decided to make a better life for us, and went back to school... NURSING SCHOOL. wth. I can’t even imagine doing that right now, but reminding myself of where she has been and how much she PUT IN WORK... That keeps me grounded in the fact that we are responsible for our lives. If you want something, you have to work for it. You can’t just hope for better... you make better happen. 

I guess its that reminder... her strength... her and Michael’s love and hard work... That keeps me going. 

Being mindful... being thankful... acknowledging my own strength... 

But with that said... August has been increasingly hard. I don’t like to think about my birthday. I don’t even want to plan anything. They’re not here... I can’t celebrate with all my loved ones and friends. Thank you COVID... 

We’re just getting closer and closer to the anniversary? Nah.. lets not call it that... anniversary sounds like something nice... something to celebrate... This is NOT that. The day your loved ones are taken is not something to celebrate... I mean honestly, if I had to pinpoint the worst day of my life, that was it.... When I think about that day I can’t breathe. Terrible memories... so many sleepless nights. I’ve come so far. Its still hard, but I’ve come a long way. 

Anyway... this post is sort of random and nostalgic. Things I hold onto. Things that make me happy cry... Things that weigh heavy on my heart. 

Here’s my playlist for grief... reminders of them... collected over the last year:

Aloha for now -Kaleo Vai & Passion 

One day at a time -Jennifer Chung

In the end - Gabe Bondoc, Melissa Polinar, Passion

Round and around -Kolohe Kai

Fade Away -Rebelution

Alive -The Green

New Day -Kimie’

Angels above me -Stick Figure

Memories -Maroon 5

Wish you pain -Andy Grammer

100 -Katchafire

Everyday life -Coldplay

Out of the darkness -Isla vista worship, Bre Reed

Amen -Andra Day

Grateful -13 Crowns feat. Poo Bear

Rainbow Connection -Gwen Stefani

Be okay -ZOE worship 

With you -Eryn Allen Kane

Dont worry -Mesto feat. Aloe Blacc

Just livin’ -Sensi trails, Kbong

Remember me -Miguel, Natalia Lafourcade

Even more -Major

Let it be -Xav A.

Give Thanks -Iya terra, Stick figure

Mr. Sun -Sammy Johnson

Rest easy -Thrive, Nico of Tribal Theory

Sunny Days- Allen Stone

Today’s a new day -Common Kings

Mother’s Love -Jonah Jaxon, Micah G

The bones -Maren Morris, Hozier

Give you blue -Allen Stone

And we remain -Johnnyswim

Yellow -Kina Grannis

Streetcar -Daniel Caesar

Meant to be -Bebe Rexha, Florida georgia line

All you need to know -Gryffin, slander, Calle Lehmann

Like I’m gonna lose you -Jasmine Thompson

#ohanaovereverything #threeoh #grief #memories #family #loss