#if i ever end up rewriting the earlier chapters one key thing is that i have to fix the timeline with the whole osiris thing

[devotedlystrangewizard]

me: haha im downloading destiny 2 again for lightfall

the destiny 2 fic thats still at like. february 2022. in terms of story progression. that i havent updated because i dont know enough about the story of the past few seasons to properly write them in:

#I HAD A PLOTLINE PLANNED #WHERE THE SCORN WOULD GET MORE AFFECTED BY THE DARKNESS & ALL #BUT I HAVENT BEEN PAYING ATTENTION #i think i might just watch the cutscenes of the past few seasons on youtube #bc i dont think?? i have the season passes?? for the past few seasons???? #& then wait out lightfall before planning out that storyline #i havent seen any story trailers or whatever so im completely in the dark lmao #hopefully lightfall will motivate me enough to work on tsbesg again i miss patch #i never meant for tsbesg to be completely canon compliant but i do want to follow the main story. just with the scorn present #they are my sillies #ill figure it out #i still have to write a chapter of them joining on the uh. the missions. back in the season that launched with witch queen #(was it risen i cant remember) #i have to write at LEAST one chapter of them just dicking around fighting lightbearer hive i think they would like that #why would patch have to kill ghosts when they have several friends who do it for fun. hm. #its kinda funny bc when i started the fic i ran out of material #i had to bullshit so much just for the seasons to catch up #ESPECIALLY during hunt #if i ever end up rewriting the earlier chapters one key thing is that i have to fix the timeline with the whole osiris thing #actually make everything line up more yk? #but yeah in the period between when i started (december... 2020? 2021?) and witch queen i started getting a little off track #my investment in destiny kinda dwindled once id finished witch queen #i was still really into the characters (yes i saw the cutscene of orisis waking up yes i cried) but the game itself just #and maybe it was my depression. honestly #like i started meds nearly 3 months AFTER wq #who knows. who the fuck knows. i NEED the fuckigngnfu leviathan scenes. i NEED patch to get to the leviathan i need crow to #reconcile with the scorn through his arc in that season (plot spoilers? eh. plot ideas) #im gonna go reread the most recent few chapters i need the refresher on where i stopped #ALSO. ALSO. worst case scenario i skip some less plot relevant more self indulgent scenes (like with the hive ghosts) #and put those in separate oneshots. 'takes place between chapter so & so'

[true-blue-sonic]

1, 10, 14, 20? 👉👈

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

ONE-SHOTS

It's just SO much more easy and contained and I need to remember far less details of stuff that came earlier and I can finish them in one writing session if I'm lucky so then I don't run out of steam halfway through!!!! Yeah, one-shots have a clear preference for me, haha!

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

I have One Bazillion WIPs with none really being my main so I just kind of did that for multiple (with blink because my multi-chapter fics tend to be in the past tense as well at times and then I wouldn't get anything):

Flufftober 2022: Blinking in surprise as he pulls the pillow out from underneath the bed Espio studies the blanket put behind it. It bulges upwards… Something is hidden underneath, the sharp ninja decides immediately, and thus that fabric cover is pulled away also as he scoots a bit closer underneath the bed. It’s difficult to make out in the muted light…

Espilver Pirate AU: Grimace only intensifying Espio stifled a flinch at people brushing past him, instinctively leaning back- and hitting the wooden wall immediately after, a thud following and some confused looks getting sent his way. Quickly straightening out his back the chameleon... blinked.

Little Ghost: Sitting unmovingly the chameleon blinked, not taking his eyes away from the sea of stars above. His ninja senses never lied to him. There was something here, and it wasn’t an animal after all.

Genesis: “I am never letting Tails make me a cup of milk again,” Silver huffed the moment he blinked open his eyes, finding himself trapped snugly against Gold’s back and not wholly remembering the last moments of just how he ended up here. “This a whole night of time I could have spent on finding out more about the future wasted.” [Coincidentally the very first paragraph of the next chapter!]

That was fun! ^-^

14. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

I try my best to put myself in their shoes and imagine how they would react to what is happening, yes. Sometimes I try to imagine it in my head and then put it down on paper. I do sometimes get emotional while writing! And I also draw from personal experiences; in another ask a while back I mentioned that I kind of 'talk to myself' sometimes in my fics and give myself a solution to an issue in my own life I've been experiencing. I think what is key here is just first jotting down what you want to happen in the scene and how it should go and resolve, and then with each rewrite try to make it more emotional and attuned to the characters' personalities and experiences.

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

A funny thing I have noticed before is that if I use a certain word or phrase in one story (and that can literally be anything!), I'm very likely to reuse it in a different one, haha! But there is no rhyme or reason to that, as far as I am aware. Furthermore, I can reuse sentence structures (like "And X and Y and Z." for a certain style of sentence, using a one-sentence paragraph to draw extra attention to something, etc.), but those are just convenient writing things for emphasis. And as for real patterns, I love myself some themes of found family and romance, fluffiness, learning your individual worth and seeing there are people who care for you just for who you are; optimistic things like that. Plus Silver being a fluffy boi, him and Espio hanging out together, and things like that happen a lot of time in my fics as well, I think!

#blue's writing #thanks for the ask! <3

[wordsnstuff]

Guide to Drafting

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Planning v. Discovery

The first thing you must decide when you embark on the journey of drafting a story is how you’re going to get it done. Typically, there are two groups you can fit into, though most writers are somewhere in between. There are writers who plan meticulously before they begin writing to create a very clean first draft, or there are discovery writers (otherwise known as “pantsers”) who find more success in choosing a premise and then using a zero draft to explore the idea before gluing down any details. You are most likely someone who falls between those two methods. Some initial planning to feel familiar with your idea before you do some of the planning through the writing itself. Having some semblance of a method will help you narrow down your own process, which is immensely important if you want to get any substantial project near completion.

Consistency

Drafting is a difficult process because it’s either the revisitation of ideas you’ve already had, or the generations of ideas in quick succession. If you want to have a draft in a reasonable amount of time, you must develop a consistency in your writing. I won’t say that it must be a strict routine because time management can be a luxury, but you must make the consistent effort to write, and keep it in the forefront of your mind. Even if you don’t write every day, it should be something you try to make time for every day.

Know What You’re Trying to Accomplish

To get a draft done, you need to set expectations for yourself and they must be realistic. That doesn’t mean they have to be easy, or an amount of work you’ve been able to accomplish in the past. Considering how much time you dedicate to writing and your skillset, it should be a goal within reality. In addition, you must accept that you cannot create a masterpiece in one draft. For each version of your story that you write, you must have a focused goal, such as maintaining consistent characterization, making the plot concise and engaging, or making the prose more fluid and efficient. If you have a specific and attainable goal that you can accomplish in a reasonable amount of time with a fair amount of precision, each draft will be better than the last.  

Designate Work to Phases

As mentioned in the last section, it maximizes your time and effort to have specific and attainable goals for each draft. This doesn’t mean that you rewrite the draft each time (though that is very common amongst writers), but that you designate tasks to draft versions. I find it very helpful in clearing my mind and soothing my perfectionist anxiety to make a “schedule”, outlining what I’ll accomplish in each version following the zero draft. For example, my draft schedules usually end up something like this:

Zero Draft: Main plot line, basic characterization, key world building

First Draft: Finalize Timeline, research for world building, structure

Second Draft: (Rewrite) Plot Development Fine Tuning

Subplot development

Foreshadowing

Build up to climaxes

Tone & Pace

Third Draft: (Intermittent Rewrites) Character Development Fine Tuning

Backstory

Subtextual Development

Making sure motivations are clear

Relationships between characters

Reinforcing character arcs

Checking dialogue

Fourth Draft: (Give to Beta Readers) World Building & Prose

Descriptions & Flow

Finalize settings

Checking grammar & punctuation

Reader Immersion

Fifth Draft: Incorporate Beta Reader Feedback

Write for Yourself First

In what some call the “zero-draft”, there are no rules. This draft is purely for your eyes. It’s you telling yourself the story for the first time. So, you don’t have to write in chronological order, or know the right word you’re looking for, or take a break every time you run into a problem. The purpose of the zero draft is to get a rough idea of as much of the story as you can and avoid getting snagged on minor details. This part is important. A lot of writers like to outline meticulously before they begin drafting and if that works for you, that’s great, but the majority of writers who attempt that get stuck in the planning phase, or burnt out on their story before a word of it exists. The easiest way to avoid those two situations is to do a zero draft, which can be as long or short as you want if it provides a skeleton for you to add meat to later.

Common Struggles

~ How do you estimate the number of words/chapters?... That depends on the genre, mostly. However, that’s usually something you decide in the second draft and beyond, and it can vary because of factors you haven’t got locked down until the plot and character arcs are firm or final. This is also something you’ll probably do a lot of tinkering with, and receive feedback on, especially from beta-readers, who can advise you on where natural breaks could occur from their perspective.

~ Why, after planning everything out, do I always struggle to write the draft?... 99% of the time, it’s because you’ve either burned yourself out, or accumulated too much pressure. When you put that much effort and time into a story, you can either slip into a headspace where you feel little excitement about it because you’ve already done all of the problem solving and had all of the revelations. It’s usually beneficial at this stage to take a step back (even if you’re not burnt out) and give your story some space, so that once you come back to it, you’re enthusiastic enough to fully realize your vision. If instead you’re struggling to write because you feel a lot of pressure to do justice for a story you’ve put so much love into already, take a step back, remember that the first draft is just for you, and work on letting go of the idea that the zero draft is meant to serve any purpose beside simply existing. 

~ How do I come up with the necessary scenes to move the story forward between major plot points?... Most writing problems can be solved by asking yourself the right questions. When you’re trying to figure out what your reader needs to see next in order to effectively set up the next major event, ask yourself “What would happen between event A and event B that would add context or make event B more impactful?”. Treat it like a real situation and try to map out all of the tiny, notable moments that would take place between the major plot points, and then assess those moments on the basis of how impactful they would be to the coming scenes, and whether they can add context, set the tone, or aide in the rising action.

~ How do I balance sticking to the draft and following my own creative instinct in the moment?... This is a judgement call. Sometimes you’ll realize that maybe you should have just stuck to the outline, but remember that you can always go back, rewrite, test things out, etc. Always save every version of every scene, just in case, and go wild. Don’t be afraid to take detours just to explore. The writing process is anything but linear. 

~ How do I maintain momentum in my writing progress when I constantly have distractions or other responsibilities that take priority?... Work at it. There’s no magic trick or piece of advice I could say that gets rid of your personal responsibilities. Write when you can, don’t make excuses on top of the reasons you have no control over, and remember that you create your own deadlines and expectations. Be kind to yourself, do what you can, and don’t spend potential writing time punishing yourself because there isn’t as much as you’d like. 

~ How should I designate space (words/pages) to specific scenes/description/conversations, etc?... Trust your instinct and remember you can always cut/add later. In the earlier drafts, I’d advise you try to create as much material as possible to work with, and in the later drafts, be ruthless when determining what is necessary and adds value, and what doesn’t.

~ How do I finish a draft if I regularly lose motivation or interest in my projects?... Accept the fact that motivation is fickle, and that no writer in history has ever maintained “inspiration” for any project from the beginning to the end. There are going to be days where you’re like “ugh this is not what I want to do right now���, probably more than there are days where you’re stoked to work on your project, but that’s reality. If your goal is to finish a draft, you must recognize that writing is work, and nobody wants to work all the time. Try to supplement the lack of motivation by setting a positive and enjoyable routine so that, even when you’re not particularly motivated, you still know that your writing time will be peaceful and comfortable. 

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[hookedonapirate]

Book Update

If anyone is wondering when Hard To Handle will be coming out, I have some news! So, for those who don't know, Hard To Handle is an original A Helping Hand rewrite featuring Harper and Owen (Killian and Emma) and will be part 2 of the series. And if you haven't guessed yet, part 1 features Audrey and Brady (Elsa and Liam from A Helping Hand) with a Harper and Brady friendship. For those interested in their story, I have a little treat for you below. However, this Sneak peek doesn't show Audrey and Brady meeting yet because I haven't gotten that far.

This is sort of an enemies to lovers story (I say sort of because their "enemy" status in the beginning is too complicated to slap a label on it) that starts off with Harper and Audrey butting heads with their new neighbor, Brady, and him and Audrey exchanging love hate letters. 😉 Then Brady and Audrey form an alliance and break up Harper and Bryce. I promise it's not evil like it sounds because Brady discovers Bryce is cheating on Harper. Remember, Bryce is the Neal of AHH.

This book is a bit darker than book 2 because of the toxic nature of Harper's relationship with Bryce, and because Audrey often pays the price for his shenanigans, but there's still humor and fun in this one.

Anyway, here are the first few chapters. I may post more if anyone's interested ❤️

Chapter One

Brady

There are strange sounds coming from the unit next door.

Laughter maybe?

Yes, definitely laughter.

More like Cackling. From one—make that two—females.

Two loud, annoying females.

Just great.

I take pride in being a fairly simple man who doesn’t need much to be happy. A few things like fishing, enjoying an ice-cold beer and having a few moments of quiet time usually does the trick. Even the sound the can makes whenever I crack open the pull tab of Coors Light is music to my ears. I finally have time to relax after sweating my ass off from all the unpacking I did. I just moved in today and couldn’t stand the idea of tripping over boxes or searching through them every time I needed to use something. I was unable to stop unpacking until every single item in those boxes had a home.

Now I’m able to sit back in my patio chair, prop my feet up on the plastic stool and breathe in the pleasantly cool evening air, enjoy a refreshing, ice-cold beer and some quiet time.

Or at least I was able to until my air of tranquil serenity was so rudely disturbed by my cackling neighbors.

They could at least close their balcony doors, so the entire building doesn’t have to hear them.

I’m already in a foul mood, and the two laughing hyenas aren’t helping. If anything, my mood is worse than it was when I was packing.

They, however, sound like they’re having a grand old time. Doing what exactly, I’m not sure, but it sounds like one of them needed a break from studying and the other one is encouraging her to get drunk and let loose. Which means they’re college students.

Just fucking perfect.

This is exactly why I moved off campus, even though it meant paying rent and enduring a much longer commute to work.

It’s just my luck to get stuck living next to two loud teenagers or early twenty-something-year-olds. I’m around college students all the time, considering I’m an instructor; I don't need to live next to them, too. I learned that very quickly.

Young adults, my ass. More like impudent children.

I feel like the property management should’ve included that minor detail in the apartment listing. Or that not everyone is required to follow their uniform policies.

A peaceful, friendly community? Ha!

The management will definitely be hearing from me about their false advertising.

“Dude, I’m sorry to tell you this, Harp, but your boyfriend’s a fucking loser! Even Elisa said so!”

“He’s just misunderstood!”

“Misunderstood?! Bryce is such a creep!”

“Is not!”

I take a swig of my beer through gritted teeth. I really wish I had a TV right now.

It won’t be delivered until tomorrow, though. Which is very unfortunate and inconvenient at the moment because I need a distraction from reality. Listening to their conversation makes me furious and sad at the same time because it reminds me of me and my brother arguing about his girlfriend. I kept trying to tell Owen she was no good for him, but he wouldn’t listen. I bet this Bryce guy isn’t married, though.

Or maybe he is; I really don’t know.

I need something to take my mind off the overwhelming urge I feel to hop on a plane, fly to Chicago and kick my brother’s ass for being the fucking moron he is. And let me tell you, the urge is very strong right now. Earlier today, Owen told me the woman he’s been seeing is married. They’ve been dating for six months, during which she was lying to him the entire time. I already didn’t like her very much to begin with because she was a controlling bitch—I’m the only one who’s allowed to be a controlling bitch to my brother—and because ever since he started seeing her, I haven't been able to hang out with him very much. Whenever we made plans, he canceled them because Naomi wanted to spend time with him instead. And he was my best friend. Now he tells me she’s married and that he’s still staying with her.

What the actual fuck?

He’s so brainwashed by her, I couldn’t talk a lick sense into that goddamn head of his. Now he wants me to be okay with them staying together while she’s still with her husband?

Fuck that shit.

“Okay listen, if you’re going to talk shit about my boyfriend, we’re going to need more wine.”

“Agreed.”

It becomes silent next door for a few minutes, which makes me sigh in relief. Soon I hear, “Son of a fucking bitch!”

There’s a litany of curses and then, “We need a new corkscrew!”

“But we’re too drunk to drive anywhere!”

Damn, if only I had a corkscrew so they could drink more wine, get drunker and become even louder and more annoying than they already are.

That’s actually not a bad idea, though. If they’re anything like my ex-girlfriend, the quicker they get drunk, the quicker they’ll be ready to sleep. The quicker I’ll finally have my peace and quiet.

I contemplate driving down to the corner store, but what would I even say if I showed up at their door with a corkscrew they didn’t ask for? Oh, hi, I was eavesdropping on your conversation and took it upon myself to go to the store and buy you this corkscrew so you could both drink yourselves into an alcohol-induced coma and I could finally have some peace and quiet?

Nope, I definitely can’t say that.

Chapter Two

Audrey

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

When I rush into the kitchen to see why my roommate’s cussing up a storm, I’m expecting the counter and floor to be covered in wine and shattered glass, even though I didn’t hear any glass break, but Harper’s just holding the corkscrew and staring at the top of the bottle.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need a new corkscrew!” Harper grabs the bottle of wine and points the top of it at me. The cork is still jammed into the neck of the bottle, and the worm of the corkscrew is stuck inside it.

Which is very unfortunate.

She’s been studying her ass off, except for the occasional interruptions from her asshat of a boyfriend, Bryce. She had a really tough time getting him to finally leave so she could study, and she had to literally push him out the door. So I thought Harper could use a break and I could feel saner again by indulging in some wine. But one bottle of wine quickly turned into two. Or rather, it would’ve if not for the end of the corkscrew inside the cork.

Fuck.

“But we can’t drive anywhere,” I point out, considering how tipsy we both are, even though we only went through one bottle between us. But we’re both lightweights.

“Hold on,” she says, picking up her phone from the counter.

I cock my brow. “You do realize Amazon Prime takes two days to ship, right?”

“Yeah, I know, Aud. I’m not that drunk.” After looking at something on her phone for a minute, she leaves the kitchen, returns with one of her tennis shoes and sets the phone down to pick up the wine bottle. She places the bottom of the bottle inside the heel of the shoe, raises her hands above her head and goes to one of the walls in a striking pose.

I rush over and put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“This will push the cork out.”

“But won’t the wine spill all over?”

“Not if I can only push the cork part of the way out and then pull it off the rest of the way.” She hits the shoe against the wall a few times, but the cork doesn’t budge.

“Why don’t we see if any of the neighbors have a corkscrew,” I suggest. “This method doesn’t seem to be working.”

She sighs and drops her arms. “Who do you think would have one?”

“What about Mandy? She’s a wine drinker.”

Harper shakes her head. “She doesn’t get home from the office until late on Mondays. And there’s no way I’m trying mister grumpy pants across the hall. It always seems like he’ll snap at any moment. Plus, once his dog starts yapping, she never shuts up.”

“What about the new guy who just moved in next door?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if he’s an ax murderer?”

“I saw him earlier when he was moving in. He seems harmless enough, and is kind of cute, actually.”

“Yeah, well so was Ted Bundy. And I’d like to stay alive with my head intact, thank you very much.” I haven’t seen the new neighbor yet, but I don’t think going over to a stranger's place while we’re both a little tipsy is the best idea, for several reasons.

She flicks her hand. “Well, you don’t have to go. I will.” She grabs her keys, removes her pepper spray from the attached chain and throws her keys back on the counter before heading toward the door.

“Harp, wait…”

Ignoring my pleas as I follow behind her, she slips into her Nike slides. “I’ll be fine. I got my handy dandy pepper spray,” she says, holding it up.

Before I can talk some sense into her, she’s already dashing out the door and calling out over her shoulder, “If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911!”

I sigh and lean against the door, pressing my ear against it so I can listen for Harper’s screams or any signs of a struggle.

Chapter Three

Brady

When I head inside from the balcony, there’s a knock on the front door. I scratch my head and stride over to answer it, wondering who it could be. I just moved into this apartment today, so I literally don’t know any of my neighbors yet.

I open the door to a skinny blonde with green eyes, long, shimmering hair and soft pink lips. She’s easy on the eyes, but I have a feeling she’s one of the laughing hyenas next door. She’s not as young as I thought she’d be, though. She looks to be around my brother’s age. When I give her a once-over, I notice the pepper spray she’s trying to hide in her fist.

I wince at the sight of it. She doesn’t even have the safety lock on.

I offer a tight-lipped smile. “Hello.”

“HiI’myournextdoorneighbor,” she mumbles, her words slurred together. She’s a little tipsy and has to lean against the doorframe so she doesn’t fall over.

“How can I help you, next-door neighbor?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the pepper spray. The sight of it brings back too many painful memories. Memories I’d rather keep locked away.

“I was wondering if you had a corkscrew my roommate and I could borrow?”

On the balcony, I wanted to strangle the two neighbors who were interrupting my quiet time, but now I feel very protective. She’s obviously drunk, yet stumbling over to a neighbor she doesn’t even know. I mean, I like to consider myself an overall decent human being, or as I’ve been called before, “one of the good guys,” but this woman doesn’t know that. She knows nothing about me, yet she’s over here asking to borrow a corkscrew. And yes, she’s carrying a weapon, but I doubt she knows how to use it properly, and with how tipsy she is, I doubt she’d even be fast enough to use it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Her smile fades, but she looks determined, so I’m hoping she doesn’t go knocking on all her neighbors' doors asking for a corkscrew.

“I could buy you one,” I offer, trying to sound as polite as possible. Which is difficult when I’m irritated.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Really? You’d do that?”

I cross my arms and give her a stern look. “On one condition.”

She nods excitedly. “Of course, anything.”

I’m so glad I’m a nice guy because this woman seems far too trusting, and I’m afraid of what would’ve happened if I were anything less than a decent human being. “I’ll go and get you a corkscrew if you return to your apartment and keep the noise down for the rest of the night. And maybe close your balcony doors so the entire building can’t overhear your childish conversation.”

I’m thinking this is a very reasonable request. I’m willing to leave the comfort of my apartment to get in my car and go to the corner store to get some women I don’t know a corkscrew, and all they have to do is put a cap on the noise.

But the scowl on her face tells me she doesn’t agree. “First of all,” she raises her index finger, “ruu-uuuuuuude!” She raises another finger. “Secondly, my roommate and I aren’t children. We’re having a stressful week and were finally able to relax and drink some wine when the corkscrew broke. But that’s okay, we’ll figure out how to get the cork off ourselves!” She turns on her heels and starts to head toward her apartment, but spins around again and gets in my space, jabbing a finger at my chest. “And thirdly, we weren’t being that loud!”

I clench my jaw as she storms away and slams the door shut after disappearing inside her apartment. I throw my own door shut, huffing in frustration.

Why couldn’t my neighbors all be sweet old ladies?

So much for having a relaxing evening!

I head back to my balcony when there’s another knock on the door.

“Son of bitch,” I curse under my breath as I march over to the door and yank it open. “What, now?” I ask angrily when I see her standing at my door again.

“I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

I furrow my brows, growing more agitated. “A what?”

She sighs as though I’m the one inconveniencing her. “A dress shoe,” she says impatiently. “Surely you’ve been to a wedding or funeral. You must have one.”

“I do, but why do you—” Before I get the chance to answer, she shoves past me and heads toward my bedroom.

I follow her in there and cross my arms over my chest in the doorway as I watch her go to my closet. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing?”

“I told you, I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

Seriously?!

The audacity of this woman waltzing into my apartment and taking one of my shoes! “That’s funny because I never said you could borrow one.”

“Wow, your closet is super organized,” she comments as she looks around, easily finding one of my brown dress shoes and grabbing it from the shoe rack.

I’m still standing in the bedroom doorway when she tries to get through. I reach for my shoe, but she steps back and aims her pepper spray at me. I instinctively duck out of the line of fire and lunge forward, grabbing the pepper spray from her hand and twisting the safety lock.

“Wait, please don’t kill me! My roommate’s calling 911 if I’m not back in two minutes!” she cries, shielding herself with her hands.

I sigh in exasperation and extend the pepper spray to her. “I’m not trying to murder you, I was trying to get my shoe back.”

She slowly drops her arms and narrows her eyes as she snatches the spray from my hand. “Then why did you take away my weapon?”

I scoff. “It was a reflex so I didn’t get sprayed in the face since I wasn’t actually attacking you. Do you know how many times I’ve been pepper-sprayed in the face?”

“Why, because you’re a rapist?!” she accuses, stepping away from me and aiming her pepper spray at me again, even though the safety is still on. She probably doesn’t even know that, though.

I sigh in exasperation and raise my hands in surrender. “No, because I was in the Marines. Getting pepper-sprayed was part of my training. It taught me how to use my weapons and equipment.”

She lowers the spray, guilt etched in her features. “Oh, sorry. My roommate said you might be another Ted Bundy, and I don’t want to be raped and murdered.”

“Yeah, because breaking into your neighbor’s apartment and stealing their shoe is a good way to prevent that from happening,” I say, my words laden with sarcasm.

“Well, no, but that’s what the pepper spray was for.”

“It won’t do you any good if you don’t use it properly. You need to have a firm grip and use your thumb to activate it so it can’t be taken out of your hand like I just took it out of yours.”

“Thanks for the tip.” She raises the pepper spray at me again and presses the button to activate it. But it’s still disarmed. Once she realizes her mistake, her eyes widen.

I cock my head to the side and plant my hands on my hips. “Really?”

She offers an apologetic smile, then scurries toward me, ducks under my arm and squeezes past me, darting for the front door. “I’ll bring it right back, I promise!”

I let her go and exhale another deep sigh. What could she possibly need my shoe for anyway? To squash a spider or something? Can’t she use her own Goddamn shoe for that?

Right, she probably doesn’t want to get her precious shoe all gross, so she’s using mine instead. Which means my shoe will be returned with spider guts on the bottom.

Just great.

I go to the balcony and curtly grab my beer so I can head inside and not have to hear every goddamn word of their conversation again.

Pound, pound, pound.

What the hell?

It sounds like they’re banging something against the wall.

My shoe, perhaps?

Pound, pound, pound.

Then I hear a loud pop!

“Yessssss!”

They got the cork out.

“Holy shit, you made a mess!”

“Sorry, but at least we can keep drinking!”

“Woohoo!”

I head inside and close the sliding doors, hoping to go to bed and get some rest. But then there’s another knock on the front door.

“Fucking hell,” I groan as I go over to answer it. It’s probably the blonde neighbor with my shoe, but I’m not sure I want it back.

Sure enough, it’s her.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” She hands over my shoe with a small smile and heads back to her apartment.

“You didn’t borrow it, you stole it!” I call after her. But she completely ignores me.

“And sorry I tried to spray you...twice!” Before I can respond, she’s already inside her unit.

I bring the shoe to my nose to get a closer whiff of it. I noticed the smell as soon as she handed it to me. “Hey, why does my shoe smell like wine?!”

But I’m talking to the door at this point.

I shake my head and go back inside, trying to decide if I should try to get the smell out or just toss the pair into the trash. For now, I set it aside and go to the bathroom to get ready for bed, hoping my neighbors will down the bottle, get tired and pass out so I can have a quiet evening.

No such luck.

They turn on the music, and I can hear the pounding bass through the wall and also, “Yeeeeesssss, this is my jam!”

The walls are actually shaking.

Why do the other neighbors put up with this! It’s absurd, really.

They should be evicted.

I contemplate calling the police to make a complaint, but this is New York City; the police have better things to do than respond to non-emergency noise complaints. So I return to my bedroom, strip down to my boxers and toss my clothes into the hamper before slipping into bed. I can still hear the noises coming from the unit next door, but thankfully, I’m a patient man. I’m sure they’ll get tired soon and go to bed. Or at least I hope so.

But an hour passes, and the music still doesn’t cease. I groan and roll over on my stomach, pulling the pillow over my head, wishing I had noise-canceling headphones right now. I’m normally against the idea of something that cancels all sounds, because it also cancels sounds that alert danger. Like if a burglar broke into the apartment or there’s an explosion or gunshot. But right now, I’d do anything to get a good night’s sleep. Between arguing with my brother over the phone into the wee hours of the night yesterday and spending all day moving into my new place and unpacking, I’m completely exhausted. Not to mention I always start my day at five in the morning. My classes don’t start until eight a.m., but I like to get an early start to my day. I got up that early when I was in the Marines, and some habits just never die.

I’m about to get up and go down the hall to ask them to turn down the noise, but I’ve already asked her once and she got offended, so I doubt it will do any good.

Chapter Four

Audrey

I’m immediately regretting the two bottles of Barefoot Harper and imbibed last night. My head is pounding, I’m dehydrated, and I have to be at work in an hour. I take some aspirin, drink a full glass of water before jumping into the shower.

When I leave my bedroom, dressed and ready to go, Harper is shuffling out of her room.

“Morning,” she says groggily, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Morning, Harp.” I head to the kitchen to make her some coffee. I’m not a coffee drinker myself, I prefer tea, but I know Harper can’t function in the morning without a fresh cup of hot Folgers.

“Why did we drink on a weeknight again?” she groans, taking a seat at the table.

“That’s an excellent question.” I pour water into the pot and place it in the coffeemaker, turning it on.

Harper buries her face in the cradle of her arms on the table as I grab some aspirin and a tall glass, filling it with water. She doesn’t have to work today, but she does have classes. She’s already a registered nurse like me, but she’s going for her master’s degree to open up more job opportunities. And also because she’s an overachiever, when it comes to her career at least. I just wish she were an overachiever when it came to other aspects of her life, like the kind of men she dates. Or maybe Harper was purposefully aiming for Class-A levels of douchebaggery when she started dating Bryce. If that’s the case, then she definitely went above and beyond expectations. And while she is my best friend and roommate, there’s only so much sense I can talk into her. And I'm not willing to let some lowlife scumbag get in between our friendship.

“Here, these will help.”

Harper lifts her head and takes the aspirin and glass. When she pops the pills in her mouth, swallowing them down with a big gulp of water, she already appears to be more human again.

I grab my keys and strap my purse over my shoulder, heading toward the front door.

“Speaking of drinking, are you going to be here Friday night?”

I snort-laugh and turn to look at her, placing my free hand on my hip, knowing exactly where this is going. She’s still recovering from her hangover and already has booze on the brain. “That depends. Is Bryce going to be here?”

When she takes a slow sip of her water, I know what her answer is before she says it out loud. “Well, considering he’s the one who invited a few people over, yes, he’ll be here.”

“Then no, I definitely won’t.” I head for the door, trying to leave again.

“That’s a shame because Bryce has a good-looking friend who thinks you’re gorgeous.”

I spin around, cocking a brow. “Which friend?”

“Treyton. You haven’t met him before, but he saw your pics on Instagram.”

I walk to the table, placing my hands on top of the chair, my key ring dangling from my finger. “How did he find my Instagram account if we’ve never met?”

“Bryce showed it to him.”

What the fuck?

I furrow my brows in confusion. “Okay, why is Bryce showing his friends my Instagram account?”

She smirks. “Because Treyton was asking him if I had any cute, single friends.”

I sigh, not liking the idea of Bryce trying to set his friends up with me. I’ve met some of his guy friends, and neither is one I’d kiss if he were the last man on earth. “Sorry, not interested.”

I remove my hand from the chair and try to leave again.

“Oh, come on, Aud. Give the guy a chance. I mean, I don’t know him that well, but he’s fucking hot.” She picks up her phone from the table and pulls up something before handing it to me across the table. “See for yourself.”

I reluctantly take the device, a heavy sigh leaving my lips. I highly doubt his looks will sway me. Even if is hot, he’s still Bryce’s—

Holy crap.

He’s got those smokey grey eyes, a chiseled jaw and a little smirk on his beautiful face that makes me melt.

Well, fuck.

“So, what do you think?” Harper asks curiously, trying to stifle a smirk as she perches her chin on the back of her joined hands, her elbows resting on the table.

I try not to show how attracted I am to a freaking photo of a guy I’ve never met before, but damn, those eyes are spellbinding, and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. “Okay, he’s a little cute.”

“A little? Honey, you and I have similar tastes in men, so I know you don’t think he’s just cute.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We usually do, which is why I have no idea how Bryce got your attention. He must have a big dick or something.” I narrow my eyes. “Does he have a big dick? Because that would explain a lot.”

Harper bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Aud, you know it’s not all about the size! And no, he doesn’t, he’s average, but as much as you hate him, you can’t deny he’s good-looking.”

“Yes, maybe on the outside he’s cute but personality-wise he’s ugly as fuck.”

She sighs in defeat as I hand over her phone. This is just an argument neither of us will ever be able to agree on. Well, until she finally decides to take off those damn rose-colored glasses and sees Bryce as he truly is. But I know it would make Harper happy if I agreed to stay for the party. I know that sometimes she feels out of place considering most of Bryce’s friends are college kids. Normally, she’s the oldest one there, but you could never tell, because she has a baby face and looks at least five years younger than she actually is, so to the other college kids, she's one of them.

“Fine, I’ll be here for the party.”

Harper’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, but if any of his friends grab my ass, I’m leaving.”

She laughs. “Okay.”

The coffee machine beeps, so she gets up from her seat, grabs a mug and creamer and pours the steaming, hot liquid into her cup. She returns to her seat and sips her coffee as I once again try to leave. “Thanks for starting the coffee, Aud.”

“No problem. See you tonight.” I unlock the door, and when I pull it open, I notice a folded up crisp piece of copy paper taped to the outside. I cock my brow and peel it off, unfolding it. I’m expecting it to be from the building management.

But then I read the first line...

To the two hoity-toity princesses,

I immediately suspect it’s from mister grumpy pants across the hall, but the letter is in fancy cursive writing. Who even writes in cursive anymore? Maybe an old lady or mister grumpy pants, I suppose. But he normally doesn’t leave letters. He’ll just knock on the door with his cane and chew us out in person. Harper said the first time he knocked on her door to complain about the noise, he made her cry.

When he tries that shit with me, I give it right back to him and threaten to call the cops on his dog and have her taken to the pound. He tends to leave us alone now. So, I’m surprised he’s resorted to leaving us notes.

Can you kindly tone down your loud music and obnoxious woohooing, laughter and overall commotion that kept me up until 2 a.m.? Some people actually have to work on a Tuesday morning. I, myself, wake at 5 a.m. every single day and am now forced to go to work on three hours of sleep. Luckily the students I teach possess much more class and are at maturity levels you both obviously could never achieve if you actually tried. I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty, as you’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income and never worked a day in your lives, but some people actually have responsibilities and obligations, not just classes they can skip whenever they feel like it. So have a little respect and lower the volume a few notches.

This time you get a warning, but if the noise persists, I will be forced to contact law enforcement. Have a lovely day drinking your Starbucks lattes and trying to get rid of what I hope are nasty hangovers.

Sincerely,

The tired and cranky guy from 8C, thanks to his loud, annoying neighbors

P.S. The blonde who took my brown dress shoe owes me a new pair seeing as it now reeks of Pinot Grigio, thank you very much.

My nostrils flare before I even finish reading the letter. The audacity of this asshole! He doesn’t even know us, hell he hasn’t even met me in person, yet he makes all kinds of false assumptions about us.

I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty.

What the actual fuck?! Harper and I both wake up at the crack of dawn to go to work at the hospital, and we’re constantly on our feet for at least twelve hours. We only work three days a week, but our jobs are emotionally and physically draining; I mostly use the other four days to sleep, recover, clean the apartment and run errands. So, for someone to say we don’t work or ever get our hands dirty is a blow to the gut. We’re nurses for crying out loud! Getting our hands dirty is part of the job!

Another remark of his that irks me: We’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income. My parents would actually laugh out loud if they read this comment. They always tell me how independent I am. Hell, I wouldn’t even allow them to pay for my schooling even though they wanted to; I wanted to do it all on my own, so I had two jobs while I went to college. They also weren’t too happy when I took a job in New York, but they told me if anyone could handle herself in a big city, it was me. Not to mention, Harper had it way worse than me, growing up.

But the fact that this douchebag is so ridiculously wrong about us makes me smile a little. It will feel so goddamn good to make him see the error of his ways.

I’m still carrying the letter with me as I go to my bedroom closet and grab my stationary from the top shelf. I take out a sheet of paper and a pen from the box, replace it on the shelf and return to the kitchen. I hate the idea of using my good paper on this asshole, but if I’m going to stoop to his level and leave a note on his door, I might as well do it with class.

“What’s the note about?” Harper asks with furrowed brows. “I paid the rent just in the nick of time.”

“It’s not from management.” I take the pen and paper to the table and start writing out a letter. “It’s from our friendly neighbor in 8C,” I say sarcastically.

Her eyes widen as she reaches for the letter. “What did he say?”

I look up and hand it to her.

When she reads it over, the sleepiness in her eyes morphs into anger. “What the hell?! Who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know us!”

“Exactly.” I look down again at the paper and continue the sentence I was working on.

I can feel her staring at me as I write. “What are you doing?”

“Replying to him,” I say without taking my eyes off the page.

“What, are we in elementary school?”

“According to him, we are.”

“He’s just a douchebag, you can’t take anything he says seriously.”

I almost laugh. Normally she’s the one wanting revenge when someone wrongs her, and I’m the one having to talk her out of it. “Maybe, but this will teach him not to make assumptions about people.”

After I’m finished, I let her read it before I tape it to his door. I head to work with a smile on my face. This should teach him not to be such a dickhead.

Chapter Five

Brady

Dear self-righteous butthole in 8C,

~~~

Stay tuned for more...

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#my book #sneak peek #self-promotion #hannah writs

[hoodharlow]

Mr. Hood [Teacher!Cal AU]

Chapter 1

AN: so I'm rewriting my teacher!cal fic. Let's hope I make it past one chapter. Lol jk I’m like half way done with Chapter 2. The story is based on  #28 from a sentence prompts one of my faves posted a while back. As usal thankyou to my mamas @d-oaks​ ilysm, D.

Requested?: no lol

Warnings: smut lol

Word Count: 5.4k words

“Did you finish your homework?" Odalis asked her 8 year old daughter, Mina, through the phone. She pulled her leather jacket closer to her. It was mid January; a surprise to many, it’s not always 70 degrees and sunshine in San Diego. It can get cold as fuck, especially when it rains days straight like now .

Odalis was outside some club that her friends, Destiny and Sana, dragged her to on recommendation from their other friends. According to them, she was in desperate need of a night out dancing. Even Mina’s dad, Aubrey, and his boyfriend, Jonathan, agreed. 

Aubrey and Odalis have known each other since they were in middle school. Bonding over the fact that they were the only brown kids in a low-key racist Catholic middle school. The night of her quinceañera, her cousin Ghost brought a blunt to the after party. Aubrey and Odalis ended getting stupid high after one hit each. Aubrey had the genius idea to have sex with her to make sure he wasn’t gay. 

Turns out that he’s gay, gay. 

Thanks to the useless sex education they received in Catholic schools—high schools in general— and their push for celibacy until marriage, neither teenager thought of using protection. 

"Yeah, but I don't like multiplication. My teacher’s stupid.” Mina huffed, bringing back Odalis from her thoughts.

"Don’t say shit like that. You know your papi gets mad when we say shit like that," She playfully scolded. “Speaking of, let me talk to one of them.”

"Which one?"

"El que sea." 

There was some shuffling on the other end. Odalis could hear Mina tell her dad she wanted to talk to him. 

"Dalis, stop calling every hour. You swear like she’s never spent the night with us,” Aubrey said in a frustrated tone once he was on the phone.

“I know, I’m just bored. All we’ve done is drink,” She said softly, playing with the end of her jacket.

“No shit, it’s a club. Stop calling and go get dicked down.” He hung up. 

Odalis locked her phone and walked back to the entrance of the club. When Destiny, Sana and her got here, there hadn't been a line like there was right now.

 'Sucks to be them,' she thought to herself, and made a beeline to the door.

“Get in line.” Edgar, the bouncer, said. He stretched his arm across the door frame, blocking her. 

“Seriously?” She scoffed. She crossed my arms challenging him. She knew all this fucking attitude was because she rejected him when he asked her out for a date a few weeks ago.

“Miss, just listen—”

“Tú no te metas,” she snapped at whoever called behind her. She turned to see who was butting in, only to see an incredibly cute guy. She turned back to Edgar, “Next time you—”

“Look, you’re holding up the line,” Cute guy interjected, again. He had an accent.

“No one’s talking to you. It’s none of your business,” she snapped at him once more.

“Actually it’s everyone’s business since you think you can just cut while the rest of us are waiting to go in.” 

“I went in a while ago. I only stepped out to take a call, so back off.” She huffed. “Edgar, stop being dick to me just because I didn’t want to go on a date with you. Let me in y a este güey para que pare de chingar.” 

Odalis pushed past the bouncer and went inside. She wove through the people until she got to the table where her friends were. She plopped in her seat and took a long sip of her Cantarito. 

Fuck it, she told herself and downed the rest of the drink. She felt the alcohol run through her veins. It would be a lie to say this was the first drink of the night that she chugged shamelessly.

“Jesus!” Sana gasped.

“No!” Destiny whispered in shock.

In their ten year friendship, Sana and Destiny always gave her those reactions whenever she did something questionable or unsafe. 

“Edgar,” Odalis said before eating the tamarindo candy that came with the drink. “He wouldn’t let me in, not to mention some pendejo kept butting in.”

“I still can’t believe he’s still mad because you wouldn’t go out with him, pathetic.” Sana said as she took a swing of her Angry Orchard.

“He’s disgusting. I’ve heard him talk about women all the time.” Destiny cringed. 

“Let’s dance?” Odalis asked them. They agreed, getting up. They left their coats, claiming the table with their now empty drinks. As they made their way to the dance floor, “Gangsta” by Kehlani played. Destiny and Odalis shared a look as Sana’s face lit up instantly. Her love for Kehlani is beyond what words can describe. Honestly, she could give YG a run for his money. Odalis wrapped her arm around Sana’s shoulder and started to sway with her as she sang.

***

Calum finished his drink and wandered over to the bar. All his friends were coupled up, leaving him to be the spare tire. It had been like that for the past few years ever since he broke off his engagement. 

It was mutual. She wanted bigger things in life while Calum was content with his life as is. He liked his job. For once he didn't overthink his life choices and was proud of what he accomplished. 

From the corner of his eye he saw someone take the empty stool next to him. It was the woman from a while ago. She set her bag down, claiming the seat.  She wasn’t even fully sitting when some guy approached her.

“Mate, let her settle in her seat before you fail to talk her up,” Calum said out loud, gaining her attention. The guy that walked up behind her turned back without saying anything.

She rolled her eyes before adjusting the back of the stool. “I can fend myself thank you very much,” she said as a matter of fact. She leaned forward, looking for a bartender.

“I’m aware.” He smirked as he took the final sip of his beer and looked away. 

He felt her eyes on him, taking him in. He wore a white short sleeve button down and black pants. He knew he looked good. It was mainly his arms that caught women's attention. He wasn't sure why, but they always talked about his arms and hands. He turned back to her and she went back to searching for a bartender. 

Calum watched her huff as the bartender ignored her when she tried getting their attention. She sat back in defeat. He raised his arm and the bartender quickly dropped their towel and walked over to him. 

"I could've gotten the bartender myself," she said,tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Who said I was getting the bartender for you? I need a refill." He said smugly, showing her his empty glass.

Another guy from the other side tried approaching her. "Yo ma, I saw you shaking that—" 

She raised her hand, stopping him from continuing. "There's only one person that calls me 'ma', and you don't look like my 8 year old," she deadpanned. At the mention of her daughter, the guy bolted, earning a snort from Calum.

"That was quite some fending you did," he commented sarcastically. Before she could say anything, the bartender came back with his beer. "Thanks, mate," he told the bartender and paid for this drink. 

He shamelessly gave her a glance over. His eyes stayed an extra millisecond on her ass before walking away. 

*** 

The bartender turned to Odalis. She struggled to make Destiny’s order and water for Sana and her. She was flustered. She was usually unfazed when someone openly checked her out, occasionally calling them out. With him, she felt something pool at the pit of her stomach, and panties.

The bartender handed her the drinks, and she made her way back to Sana and Destiny. 

“What?” she asked them defensively. They both made a face and sipped their drinks. "¿Qué se traman?”

“He was cute.” Sana smirked.

“Who?” 

“The cute guy at the bar. You both were eye fucking each other when the other wasn’t looking. Odalis, you even did that hair tuck you do when you’re nervous.” Destiny added. 

"Doesn't matter." Odalis shrugged. 

She doesn't have time for dating. She owns a bakery. Almost everyday she has to be up at four in the morning to be there at five for prep, so she can open at six to then close at six in the afternoon. She barely spends time with Mina as it is. Her daughter spends most nights with Aubrey, so Odalis is only with her when she picks her up and brings her back to the bakery. Even then she's busy working while Mina is at her table doing homework or coloring. 

Sara snapped her fingers in front of Odalis' face. "Stop overthinking it. He’s probably looking for a quick fuck. I’m not saying that you need it, but your dry spell is three years old. Three years without having a man in—”

“I know.” Odalis slumped in her chair.

She sensed someone approach their table. She turned back to look at whoever was behind her. 

“It’s me, save your little speech about your child. I only came to drop off your bag." the guy from earlier said. He raised his hands in surrender. "You’re lucky my friends love alcohol and sent me to get them more. I’m Calum by the way.” He set the bag down in front of her.

“I have to use the restroom.” “I’ll go with you.” Sana and Destiny said before bolting.

“You friends always leave like that?” He asked, his eyes following Destiny and Sana before looking back at Odalis.

“They know I can fend for myself,” She said pridefully. She watched him as he sat down next to her. 

“Right, your ‘I have a daughter’ excuse.” He lightly shook his head before taking a sip of his beer.

“It’s not an excuse.” She said defensively, “I actually have a daughter.” 

“I'm not saying you don’t. I’m just curious why you have the need to bring her up.” He rested one of his arms on the table and the other around the back of his chair. 

“Why do you care, Calum?” 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked, changing the subject.

"Nelly." she said. It was a fake name she gave them, on the rare occasion she was going to leave with them. The only time she gave her actual name, it ended badly. The guy she had slept with somehow found her bakery and showed up there. He caused a scene. Police were involved. Since then she vowed to never give her real name to strangers.

'Where are Sana and Destiny?' she thought to herself. As if the FBI agent in her phone read her thoughts, her phone vibrated. She glanced down. Destiny texted that they’re in the bar. She glanced up to search for them. 

“Nelly,” he repeated to himself. He then looked up at her again. “There’s something about you that’s awfully familiar.” 

“Oh please, not that line. Last time someone used that one me they said I looked like their future spouse. Be more creative.”  Odalis laughed

A waiter set a cantarito in front of her. He pointed back to Sana and Destiny. Odalis met Sana’s eyes and she made an obscene gesture, showing her where she should put Calum. Her mouth. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of having him in her mouth. 

“What do you do?” She asked him, changing the subject. She was mainly curious as to why he kept dismissing her when she mentioned that she has a kid.

“I teach at an elementary school,” Calum said. 

She choked on her drink. “Bullshit!” Never did she imagine he was going to say teacher.

“On my mum’s future grave.” He crossed his heart. “I started my first teaching job right after winter break. I was in Sydney visiting my family when I got the call. I did all of my lesson plans on my flight back.”

Their conversation centered around him and Odalis didn't mind. 

Calum was originally going into law like one of his best friends. When he did volunteer work at a school, he decided to switch to education. He got his teaching degree and his masters work at UC San Diego. 

In the fall, he mostly did substitute teaching until he got a job offer at an elementary school because they fired one of their teachers. They never disclosed why she was fired, but one of his students claimed that she was always sick and took her medicine through her nose in front of the class.

Hearing Calum talk about his work made her realize how kind, compassionate, and selfless he was. He loved what he did. He mentioned how one of his students was very opinionated and was not one to let others talk down to her. It reminded Odalis of Mina. 

Aubrey and her taught Mina not to be afraid to say what’s in her mind and to always politely defend herself when others made her feel less than what she was. In the first week of school Mina's teacher, Miss Kenedy, called Aubrey and her to talk about her behavior. Turns out she was only defending her friend because one of her peers was being mean to her. 

Odalis barely talked the whole time, focused solely on him, as if he was the last man on earth. Hearing him made her drip with desire for him. Maybe Destiny was right. He seemed like someone to take her out of her dry spell. 

“Sweetheart, is your daughter’s father still in the picture?” He asked. 

“Yeah, but not like how you think.” 

“So he wouldn’t mind if I kissed you?” 

“He’d be relieved actually.” 

 Odalis took notice of how close they were. Their chairs were practically on top of each other.

His hand gently caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. 

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” He asked cautiously. 

Odalis shook her head and smiled shyly at him. Calum pulled her by the back of her neck and gently kissed her lips. Lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his other arm as his lips dominated her. She was practically on his lap now. 

She pulled him closer by his shirt, wanting more of him. She hated the taste of beer, but on his lips it tasted so delicious. 

The both pulled away, out of breath, but ready for their lips to meet again. 

“How far do you live from here?” she asked. 

“About fifteen minutes walking. Why? You wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He smirked. On the outside, Calum seemed cool and collected, but he was really freaking out at what she might say.

“If you’re down.” She shrugged.

“Alright. I’m going to tell my friends that I’m leaving. I’ll meet you where your friends are. Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded. 

They both got up. Odalis collected Sana and Destiny’s coats and walked over to them. 

“I’m going back to his place.” She mumbled to them, handing them their stuff. 

Sana and Destiny exchanged knowing smiles and turned back to her.

“Finally, I was about to fall asleep here,” Sana said.

“Share your location when you get to his place, and text us when you get home.” Destiny reminded her.  

Odalis looked over to where Calum and his friends were. One of them was whispering something to him. He rolled his eyes and slipped on his jacket. He met her eyes and quickly bid his friends goodbye. 

“Ready, sweetheart?” he asked her when he reached her. 

“Yeah.” She tucked some hair back. She reached over to hug her friends.  

“Bye, make sure he uses a condom. We don’t want another baby.” Sana said, hugging her. Then she turned to him, pointing her finger accusingly, “We are trusting her with you. I’m a forensic artist with perfect memory. Anything happens, and I can have a BOLO about you.”

“Your friend is going to be in great hands.”

***

According to Calum, his place was only fifteen minutes from the club. What he hadn’t taken into account was how important it was to stop at almost every wall and make out until they couldn’t take it. 

When they got to his building, he inserted the code to get them in. Odalis followed him all the way to where the elevator was.

“I rarely do this, but would you mind giving me your number?” He asked her as he pushed his phone out to her. 

“Um, actually I do.” She said, quietly. She pushed his phone back to him. “I rarely do this too. Besides, I want to focus on my daughter. Tonight I was only supposed to have girls night, but her dad basically forced me to come out. I’m sorry.” 

“So this is going to be a one time thing for us? ” He put back his phone. 

“I assumed you also wanted the same.” She confessed. 

“Here I thought you found me appealing, but you just wanted me for my cock.” He said in disbelief, but there was a hint of playfulness to his tone.

“Well, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here." She smiled at him. "In another life I would have given you my number. Right now I just have so much to figure out with my daughter. So doing this again is out of the picture.” She rambled, looking down at her heeled boots. 

“I guess I have to give you the best sex of your life, so you can reconsider.” He smirked just as the elevator dinged open. 

Calum gently pressed his hand onto her back, guiding her into the elevator. She watched him press the 3rd floor from the lobby. He pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her. Their lips met once more, reminding them what brought them there in the first place. They got to his floor, and he led them to his apartment. She lightly pushed him against his door and claimed his lips. She let her hand wander down and  gently palmed him as he grew harder in her hand. 

Calum pulled her hand away, “My neighbor’s a cop, and I’m pretty sure he can arrest us for public indecency if we don’t stop.”

Odalis fake pouted at him, so he gave her a quick peck. He fished out his keys, and quickly opened his door and pulled her in. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it on his couch. She did the same and reached down to take off her boots. She rolled up her socks and shoved them in one of her boots. She fished out her phone and sent Sana and Destiny her location.

After shoving her phone in her bag, Calum pressed her against the wall, caging her in as he captured her mouth. His hands slid down and gripped her hips. He pulled away from her lips and kissed down her neck. He lightly nipped and licked her neck as he kissed her until he found her sweet spot. 

He struggled a bit as he kissed her because Odalis wore a turtleneck. Had she known she’d end up like this, she wouldn't have worn it. 

“Smell so sweet, like berries and sugar, ” he whispered in her ear before kissing her jaw.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

 Calum slid one of his hands in her top and pulled down her bra, releasing her breasts. His hand came out and he lightly tugged at her nipples through her top. She let out an inhuman sound, making him snicker.

Odalis wrapped her arms around him, pulling him back to her lips. Her hands played with this curls as they kissed. She loved how soft they felt against her palms as she grabbed his head when he let her take over. Calum pulled her off the wall and pushed her against the couch as he kneeled down in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

“This.” 

Calum slowly opened her legs and put them over his shoulders. He ran his hands over her thighs before he bunched up her skirt around her hips.

“These are nice.” He commented on my burgundy lace panties, he traced the band and gripped them “Though, I hope you don’t like them too much.”

Odalis was too busy thinking about what she thought he was going to do to me that she almost missed the ripping sound of her panties.

“Hey! I liked those,” she scolded him as he tossed her ripped panties off to the side. 

“You should’ve said something, sweetheart.” 

He pulled her closer to his face, opening her legs more. She tried closing them. 

“No one’s ever done this to me,” she heard herself say.

Calum looked up at her in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 

She shook her head.

 “Well, I guess I have the privilege to be the first to have a taste.”

Calum watched her squeeze her eyes shut, unsure of what he's going to do. 

“Are you okay with me eating you out? Because I don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable,” he said. Relief filled her face when he said that. He got up from where he was kneeling.

“Are you mad?” she asked him quietly. 

“Why would I be? Whatever we do, you have to be 1000% on board with. Yeah?” He ran his thumb over her cheek. 

Calum left her speechless. She may lack sexual experience, but the handful of times she had sex, no guy has been patient with her. They never took time to make sure this was what she wanted. They all kinda just followed their own agenda. 

Nonetheless she wanted this. She wanted him.

Calum let her do what she wanted. Even if he was  to be with her just this one night, it was going to go about on her terms. 

She gave him a devilish smirk as she unbuckled his belt and slipped her hand in his boxers. She slowly pumped him as he pulled her into a kiss. 

Calum let out an incoherent groan as she pulled away from his lips and kissed down his jaw. All while her hand was still inside him. He couldn't handle her hand anymore, so he pulled her hand out of him and put it on his shoulder. He wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her off the couch. He carried her to his room, his lips never leaving mine. 

Odalis took in his room. It was simple. Bed in the middle wall with a nightstand on each side. A tv on a tv stand across from his bed. Her eyes landed on a dog bed next to a chest. 

"You have a dog?" she asked. 

She could’ve sworn she didn’t hear any barking when they got here. It would have come out to see who was with their owner for sure.

Calum smiled thinking about Duke. “Yeah, but he’s at my mate’s. He likes taking him to the dog park, so he can meet women.” 

“What kind of dog is he?” 

“I’m not sure. I got him a few years back at a shelter. My other friend, Michael, suggested that I get a dog through a shelter. Which worked out perfectly because I wasn’t looking for a puppy. I wanted an older dog that could just hang out while I graded or made lesson plans. He loves going to Petco. It’s his sanctuary. You got any pets?” He asked her. 

“Yeah, a brown and white pitbull-lab mix, her name’s Canela. My daughter named her because she reminded her of a cinnamon bun; canela means cinnamon in Spanish. My dad gave her to us for Christmas two years ago. He is a firefighter, and a month before Christmas there was a fire at this dog breeding place. Turns out the place bred dogs for dog fighting. They would breed the dogs and send them down to Tijuana, Tecate and Mexicali where they fought them. My dad found her in some corner under a bunch of ‘undisclosed items’ when they were clearing out the place. She was about 13 weeks old. I love her so much; she’s the best. I joked that it took my dad over 20 years to give me a dog.” 

Calun smiled. He saw that she was very nurturing and kind, but there was more to her, which is why he wished this wasn't a one time thing.

“How did we go from about to have sex to talking about our pets?” she asked, bringing him back to reality.

Calum looked down at the tent in his pants, “I mean I don’t seem to have an issue with it. Then again how can I when you’re the view.” He said softly. 

Odalis hid her face in his shoulder, embarrassed at the fact that was probably the nth time he made her blush. She took advantage and grabbed his neck and started kissing his jaw, nibbling it lightly. He let out a soft groan when she found his sweet spot once more.

He watched her face when he set her on the bed. She was processing something. 

"Is something wrong?" He asked her.

 "No just realized how strong you must be. You were able to have a whole ass conversation about our dogs while you held me up. Sure, you had me against the wall. But we talked as if I wasn't in your arms— and I'm rambling again."

"You're cute when you're not being a smartass, sweetheart." He smirked at her. She blushed once more and laid back on the bed. 

Before climbing on, Calum slipped off his t-shirt and pants. He laid next to Odalis, waiting for her next move. He watched her sit on the edge of the bed. With her back to him, she slipped off her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to him and gave him a small smile.

Then Odalis got up and unzipped her skirt, throwing it to the pile of clothes and straddled his lap. Without leaving his eyes, she unclasped her bra. Calum cursed under his breath. 

“Such a beautiful sight.” He whispered.

He let her push him down on the bed. Her hands delicately ran over his body like she was making sure he was real. He gave her hips a gentle squeeze before he  slid his hands up to her breasts. His thumbs delicately run over her pert nipples as she melted into his hands. One of his hands made its way back to her hips and lazily ran his finger tips around her core, sending her goosebumps all over. 

Odalis leaned down and kissed him. She sighed against his lips; she could never get tired of how his lips felt against hers. She pulled away and gasped as he pulled his middle and ring fingers out of her. She wasn't sure when they slid in her, but she wasn't complaining. She stared at him in awe as he quickly slipped them into his mouth and slowly licked them clean. 

“Sorry,” He grinned shamelessly, slipping them back in her, “I wanted a quick taste.”

Odalis rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss him. She moaned as his fingers fucked into her at a deliciously slow pace. As if her hips had a mind of their own, they rode Calum’s fingers. In a matter of minutes she was close. 

“Cal-”

“I know, sweetheart.” He pressed his thumb against her clit and increased his pace.

“Sh-Calum.” She moaned out.

Calum felt her body come undone. Her nails tightly dug into his chest as Odalis moaned out his name. 

She had never come with that kind of intensity. The many times she's gotten herself off, she'd never felt so satisfied. If he can do that with just his fingers, she can’t imagine what he would do with his dick. 

She rolled off him, breathless. 

“You good?” He asked. He pushed some hair off her face. 

“Yeah, I… I need a minute.” Odalis panted. 

Calum smiled to himself. He reached over to the night stand, and grabbed a box of condoms from a drawer. He opened the box and pulled out a few. He set them next to his lamp.

Odalis rolled onto her side and kissed him once more. In a matter of seconds the kiss deepened, and they couldn't get enough of each other. Calum pushed her down on the bed and he hovered over her. He coated himself with her arousal, and gently pushed himself in her.

“Wait, condom," she said, pushing him off her. "I’m not on any birth control. I stopped using the pill a few years back because it fucked my liver. I’m not even on the other stuff since I don’t have sex enough to need it. I’m clean nonetheless—”

"I got that covered… literally." He said and gestured down. 

Her eyes widened as she looked down at his condom covered cock. 'Hijo de su chingada madre. How’s that going to fit in me? He’d probably split me half,' she thought to herself.

“We good?” Calum asked.

“Um, yeah just be gentle. I've never been with someone so…you know… big."

"Of course."

With that he started to enter her. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight.” 

After a few slow thrusts, letting Odalis get used to him, Calum sped up. He tilted her head up so he could kiss her. His lips and tongue kissed her at the pace he took her. He wrapped one of her legs around his waist and brought them closer as he continued to take her. 

Calum entered her in one delicious stroke. Her breath hitched at how good it felt. Calum must have noticed, and continued to take her like that, stroking that spot in her. A few minutes went by and that familiar feeling came over Odalis. She knew she was about to come and so did Calum. 

“Come on let go for me, sweetheart.” He encouraged her.

Odalis let go. Repeating Calum’s name over and over until her high faded. 

"Can you take another?" Calum asked her.

"Yeah," She said breathlessly. "How do you want me?"

"Hands and knees." He said. 

Odalis hesitated, nervous because she's never had sex like that.

"We don't have to if you don't want to." Calum quickly said. "We can just—"

"It's okay. I just never had sex like that, but I trust you." She smiled at him. She squeezed his hand and got on her hands and knees. 

Calum pulled her closer to him. He pressed a few kisses on her back and pressed her shoulder down, so only her ass was in the air. He slowly slid back into her. He had a strong grip on her hips as he slowly began to speed up.

Odalis was close. The thought of how exposed she was to Calum made her body surrender to him. After a while, she felt Calum’s thrusts get messier. She was grateful for that because she was sure she wasn’t going to last any longer. 

"Please Calum," she moaned out.

“Shit, sweetheart, please tell me you’re close.” he pleaded. She barely managed to nod.

It took everything in Calum not to come. He always made sure his partner came before him. He pushed himself off Odalis and took hold on her hips once more, holding her in place. He silently cursed when he released inside her but kept going until she came. 

Calum gently laid Odalis on the bed next to him. He pulled off the condom and placed it in the bin next to the nightstand. She stayed quiet. Unable to process how he made her come twice. 

After a few minutes he spoke up. “How about we wager it?” He suggested, sitting against the headboard. She looked up at him confused.

“Wager?” She sat next to him, pulling his bed sheet over her chest.

“Since you’re so adamant about not doing this ever again. How about, after tonight, if we ever see each other again, you go on a date with me? ” 

“Fine,” she agreed. 

“But for now, you’re min,.” he said. 

He pushed her back on the bed and claimed her lips. She was in for a long night.

Taglist: @another-lonely-heart​​ @sunshinebabycal​​   @calumscalm​ @karajaynetoday​​​ @cherryxwildflower​​​ @myloverboyash​​​  @idontneedanyone​​​ @findingliam-o​​​ @5-secondsofcolor​​​ @spicycal​​​ @sexgodashton​​​ @sunshinebabycal​​​ @another-lonely-heart​

#aclum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood story #calum hood series #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fan fic #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fan fiction #teacher!cal #teacher!cal series

[ryukyuan-sunflower]

I have been reading your fuugen monster of a fic (which hands down is the landmark fanfiction of this fandom) and i just wanted to say that i am so unbelievably in awe of your talent, and bain, and skills and reading that story genuinely has changed my view of fuugen and made it so much more...real. I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done for this fandom and yet all i can do is try so; Thank you. So so much 💕

Wow. ...Please excuse me for a moment. I just need to grab a glass of water. 

... *wipes eyes with tissue* 

 Huh? Oh, I um...spilled the water. In my eyes. Ahem. Where was I? Ah, yes. 

 I'm glad that my fanfic has allowed you to see Fuugen in a new light. More "real" as you said. Actually, that's why the story features so many flashbacks to the anime in key moments. Though, it's assumed that Mugen and Fuu are falling in love as the journey goes on, the flashbacks reveal that they already were in love all along in the anime. But circumstances always worked against them before...like Fuu getting thrown in a brothel in Episode 4...and Mugen going back to save her, but she never finds out. So now, being thrown in a brothel AGAIN in Chapter 17-19, we see a familiar occurrence, yet with all new circumstances and outcomes for Mugen and Fuu. So I guess I'm trying to not only tie up loose ends (like Yatsuha and Hankichi in Chapters 13-15) but also untying the knots that Mugen and Fuu missed out on in the anime. 

 Finding the Four Eyed Samurai...WITH YOU? still requires a LOT of work. There's still 15 chapters to go. And I'm sure you noticed that the earliest chapters are...well, written VERY poorly by comparison of the later ones. 

I originally started writing it 9 years ago, when I was 13/14. Thank you for carrying on through the earliest ones. Even some of the later ones need work too. The only ones that are currently in my mind, "done" with need of minor fixes, are Chapters 13-19 and 32-45. Everything else, particularly 1-12, needs overhauls.

 Since Chapter 45, the end of the Tsuru and Giri arc, I have not been writing Chapter 46. Instead, I have dedicated time to rewriting from the ground up. 

 Currently, I'm working on the rework of the "ghost arc", which is now a whole episodic story, with side characters, a mystery plot, and somehow, more Fuugen highlights. Fuu and Mugen sharing a bed? Well, that's about the extent of what has stayed intact, but for a far more logical, and plot driven reason, if you can believe that. No pointless fluff anymore. Not in this fanfic. But you'll have to wait and see how this happens XD 

 On fanfiction right now, it's still the same two chapters from all those years ago... But I am extending it to a four-chapter story. I have the first two chapters of it completed, and working on the third. However, even when I finish all four parts, I can't post it on the website, as some of the details in it retcon other things in earlier chapters. 

 (If anyone else is interested in reading the rewrites before they get posted on the website in May or June, please let me know! I have so much content finished that I can't post!!) 

 Most majorly, Mugen and Fuu in the retcon will meet in Yokosuka. Not Edo. This is because the ghost chapters will take place in Edo, as part of historical accuracy and reference to real history and mythos of the ghost this arc is being based off of. Yokosuka chosen as the retcon place they reunite in, is in reference to "Letters from Yokosuka" by Nujabes. It is also in reference to the fact that Yokosuka is known historically for where Commodore Matthew Perry from America first landed to open trade with Japan: a nod to the chanpuru concept of American Hiphop meeting Japanese history. 

 Because of these certain retcons, it sucks that I have to wait until i finish ALL the retcons, instead of arc by arc, like I'd initally been doing. I'd already posted the brothel arc rewrite, and then the Yatsuha arc rewrite after. But now...I can't post the ghost arc. It may take until May or June to have them all done...

If you ever wonder if rewrites have been posted yet, check out my Fanfiction profile, where I post what I have recently finishing revising. 

 Aside from the rewrites though, an all new will be posted after that. 

Chapter 46 will star Jin. He hasn't been featured since Chapter 28, when Shino was confirmed pregnant, and we meet the two boys, Norio and Mirai. His little makeshift family and new way of life will be the focus. Strangely enough, writing about him has gotten me...emotional?...Perhaps because he is still separated from his best friends... And, well...the end of the last arc just happened, and he has no idea what his friends are going through. He will be in his own state of distress for reasons he can't quite place. It's almost like they're all still connected, even when they're apart. 

 But anyway, I work on this fanfic every single day now, whenever I have free time. I remember, for nine years I took suuuper long hiatuses. But, ever since Covid-19 struck, inspiration and motivation struck me too. 

Everything was getting so crazy in the world, and I just wanted to give a little glimmer of happiness to readers who were still waiting. In the darkest, most hopeless moments of my life, there were so many readers that sent me such kind reviews and comments about the story. 

 But during 2020 and now, my life is ironically at its very best. So...I wanted to return the favor to everyone who had no idea what their words helped me persevere through. I am so blessed to still have such supportive and enthusiastic readers, even after all these years. If there is ever month long hiatuses (like now. I havent updated since December), know that I am actually working on it obsessively. 

 Your words mean so much to me. More than you will ever know. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. 

 OH BOY. I need water again. What a long tangent this turned into. 

I hope that, no matter how long it takes, you will continue to read and enjoy this journey to find the Four-Eyed samurai to the very end. ...More importantly, will Mugen ever get his 100 damn dumplings?! 

 In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my many Fuugen proof posts on Tumblr as well!

#oops spilled more water in my eyes again #ITS RAINING I TELL YOU #WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERES NO RAIN #WHAT DO YOU MEAN IM INSIDE THE HOUSE #fuugen

[elhokar-kholin]

If Kaladin had actually given Elhokar hero lessons, how do you think those sessions would have gone?

so... i made a post recently about how i understand (i know lots of things, but not understand) literally nothing about them whatsoever. so answering this ask isnt going to keep in line with what i usually do of only saying something if im confident in it and reasonably sure it wont change later. AKA me from the future might not agree with what i think and say now. so just putting that out there.

so the thing about this is it probably never could have happened. elhokar was desperate, and in his desperation, whether this idea of kaladin teaching him was something that he had been stewing on for weeks to months, or something he thought of while drunk (i imagine it would be the former, though he probably didn't think about it in specific, accomplishable ways), he finally worked up the courage with the help of some alcohol to ask kaladin to do this completely un fleshed out plan of figuring out how to make elhokar not be a shit king. now, this was doomed to fail for a few reasons.

number one: elhokar had a very very good chance of legitimately being incapable of being a good king.

maybe he could have ended up (with some guidance) as a good leader at some smaller scale, like a small town, but even that is debatable. kaladin instinctively knows things, and while i definitely think he had a negative bias against elhokar and his King Skillz in that moment due their relationship being at a low point, his instinct saying 'yeah thats never gonna happen' was probably completely correct.

number two: kaladin probably would not agree to it.

2a. in that moment where he did ask, kaladin thought he was being weird as hell and was so fucking confused. he didn't know at all where this was coming from, because he is blind to how other people view him a lot of the time, and by extension how elhokar had been idolizing him. they probably hadn't seen much of each other ever since elhokar tried to execute him and throw him in jail. from kaladin's perspective, elhokar tried to kill him, then is coming to him like he has all the secrets to life, which is very baffling to him. unrelated sidenote i need to rewrite this stupid coppermind article on elhokar i did not write it but i want to fix some shit in here. so kaladin in that situation is like WTF????? in his head but out loud he's like 'um.. i dont know if thats possible for you' which is a rejection. i don't know if he would have said the same words if he was at a relative high point in his opinion of elhokar rather than potentially the lowest point that he got in wor that he was in that chapter (thinking about it the chapter where he was in prison might have been the lowest but this is a low point is what im saying), but thats probably an opinion he would have kept throughout the bumpy road of whatever tf their relationship is.

2b. kaladin has shit to do, man. dude was working double triple shifts in words of radiance, got into urithiru and was like the only windrunner, and was training overtime to train some windrunners to have some squires ready for the expedition to kholinar. after he got back he was made a highmarshall and we dont see too much in the ob-row timeskip but he wasnt getting much sleep either, and he probably had a lot of shit to do when he was awake, battles aside. when would he have had the time to even begin to think about lesson plans for this goal that in his head is sort of unachievable, let alone find time for actually talking to elhokar about shit.

so like even if elhokar did ask at a point where kaladin felt less like he was absolute crap and more like [??????? but more positive than the absolute crap thing], kaladin would still have been like dude what. and kaladin also would have been like dude i do not have the time. even in an elhokar lives au (because the first time kaladin would have potentially had any time whatsoever for that is post-kholinar), shallan would probably be the radiant he was interacting more due to lightweaver reasons. and elhokar has a great deal of respect for shallan as well, certainly not as much as he has for kaladin, but he does value shallan's skill and opinion, and shallan would not only be a lot more willing to give elhokar some support and advice, they would be working closer together anyway because of their shared order. he wouldn't be getting this nebulous "secret to life" stuff that he wanted to get from the guy who survived a highstorm, almost single handedly saved an army, beat shardbearers with nothing but a spear, and fell into the chasms only to crawl back out again even after a highstorm, but, and my future self might disagree on this, but he might have just been looking for advice on how to live his life.

but, all of that aside. lets say that kaladin for some reason decided that it was personally important to him to train elhokar to not be a shit leader, that he potentially thought it was not a lost cause, and if he did then he cared enough to try anyway. postponing kholinar (which he would have the power to do in this case, since elhokar would be listening to whatever he said*) might have given him more time for that after that request, or else he might have had to think about it and agree post-kholinar, which would involve an elhokar lives au, which i dont want to deal with all the implications so im going to say in this scenario he accepted after elhokar asked in wor 80, or maybe directly after urithiru was discovered (aka later that night) with a promise to start teaching him right after he got back from hearthstone. god i feel like alternate history hub. the later that night thing would have been more likely because that is after his whole 180 about elhokar. that way, the weird intense commitment to help elhokar be a better leader was baked in to all the other weird dramatic shifts about how he thought about elhokar.

what i think kaladin would do?

possibility 1: he would have elhokar start small. i think he would have elhokar teach a single person to do something. he would get a new recruit, and tell elhokar to teach him to be a soldier. maybe the new recruit is one of lopens cousins who saw elhokar blackout drunk and being pushed around by lopens mom to eat his food, so he's not intimidated by him. the new guy not being intimidated is key, because he can't just do what elhokar says because he's the king. after the day, kaladin talks to the new recruit then elhokar, seeing what went right and wrong, then tells elhokar what changes to make. if somehow everything went right with that, kaladin would next give him a group of 5 to lead in some way, and if that worked, a group of 50.

possibility 2: a job shadow. either kaladin job shadowing elhokar, watching all his fuck ups happen in real time, and constantly whispering advice which is offputting to the people elhokar is meeting with but its funny. the issue here comes with kaladin not knowing a lot of political theory. as good of a leader as kaladin is (which is insanely), elhokar is more well versed in political theory (as an example think of the time kaladin was like 'why is beating sadeas in a duel going to wreck him its literally just a duel' there would be a lot of situations in elhokar's work as a king that kaladin would probably be similarly confused on), even if he doesn't apply it well. either that, or elhokar job shadowing kaladin, watching kaladin train the windrunners, and breaking to explain some things to elhokar every once in a while, which elhokar would theoretically learn from. the issue here of course comes with how both of these guys both have sort of incredibly important jobs that they could probably only carve out a few hours at most for something like that. unless elhokar abdicated.

abdication.... no i shouldn't go into all of this this should be a separate 2000 word post. but abdication could come into play and is related to that *asterisk earlier.

i can not think of a third possibility, although there probably is one. i would think that possibility 1 would be more likely in my opinion.

some meme possibilities i came up with:

- kaladin lets elhokar borrow syl and elhokar wears a hat and syl is in the hat pulling bits of his hair like ratatouille and basically operating elhokar and she makes him be an ideal windrunner whenever she feels like he's fucking up

- kaladin presides over the document signing meetings and whenever elhokar is about to sign a document he thinks isn't good he slaps the pen out of his hand and has a disapproving glare. elhokar has to do the walk of shame across the room to get the pen everytime this happens

- training montage with "Gonna Fly Now" in the background where there is no dialogue and it just shows elhokar visibly failing and he tries to lift a rock with a piece of paper on it that says "kingly responsibility" and fails and kaladin shakes his head, then there's a training montage of idk him learning the spear or training other bridgemen or other kaladin-y things and wearing a bandana for no reason then by the end of the montage he successfully lifts the kingly responsibility rock

- they just completely switch jobs for a while while elhokar gets his shit together. all hail king kaladin

(+ my first thoughts)

#SORRY FOR THIS GETTING SO LONG LMFAOO i did not mean it to #also sorry for posting this so long after i got the ask i got caught up in some irl stuff #thank you genuinely for the ask #its almost 1am im not proofreading this if you see a typo or continuity error no you don't #ask #long post #the hero #room temp milk #unnamed syl tag #my posts #unnamed discord tag #stupid in chief

[strangest-loser]

Twilight Rewrite

Fire in my Blood ~ Jasper Hale x OC ~ Book One - Chapter One

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I had never given much thought as to how I would die, I expected it could be for some stupid accident or some kind of murder or something, I had hoped I would live to 102 and pass away in my sleep peacefully and without struggle, but if you told me I would die the week before my 18th birthday because I was being hunted by monsters that belong only in storybooks, I would have called you insane.

Forks, Washington was one of the coldest, rainiest places in all of the world as Alessia knew it, but she loved it. It was her home and it was where her friends and father were. After her parent’s messy divorce her mother Renée moved south with Alessia’s little sister Isabella to Phoenix, Arizona while she stayed with her father Charlie. Alessia adored her father and spent her childhood years following him around like a puppy (to the point where family friend Billy Black had nicknamed her “The little shadow”). She had a happy childhood with her friends Jacob and his pack of boys down at the reserve and it was often that her father had to come wrangle her out of some form of trouble that she had no doubt instigated.

Alessia’s favorite time of year, however, was when her baby sister came to visit them for the summer holidays. Alessia would spend two weeks getting a sunburn in Arizona sitting in front of a tv while her mother bought them little cakes and treats from some bakery for desert every night and she never failed to stick herself with a cactus needle at least once every trip. And as soon as those two weeks were up the summer dresses and shorts were traded for sturdy boots and rain jackets as Alessia dragged Bella through the forest surrounding their home for the next month, expertly weaving through the trees to get to the fort she had built with her father out of branches and slats of wood.

Getting older was what separated the sisters, who as children were thick as thieves. Bella grew to resent the time spent in the rain and cold and longed to spend more time in Phoenix with their mom and her friends, and while Alessia was still extended the invitation to stay with her mother and sister every year she couldn’t help but begin to pull away from that part of her life, the closer she grew with her father the more she began to feel like a stranger with her mother. Funny stories about her and her father’s antics that were mentioned at the dinner table caused her mother to stiffen and made the air uncomfortable, and the longer that Alessia spent in Arizona the more desperately homesick she grew for Forks. It was mutually decided, however, that Alessia would not come to Phoenix as often when her mother got a new boyfriend. Phil was nice and all, but she did not feel the same sense of comfort around her mother and sister, and her status as a stranger was reinforced to a degree that by the age of 13 Alessia stopped going altogether.

But she was happy, anyone who met her could see that. She enjoyed watching football with her father, Billy, and Jacob. She loved having bonfires on the beach with her boys and sharing scary stories only to spend the evening hiding from each other and scaring each other. She was silly and goofy but she was serious where it mattered, like letting her friend Leah run with her pack of boys on the threat that she would ignore them until they stopped being mean and let her play. She was kind and loving, meeting her friend Jessica in middle school and being her number one supporter, punching anyone who dared make fun of her insecure friend because she was so intelligent.

As she grew up Alessia grew extremely beautiful, but not in a conventional way, she didn’t remind people of the models in all of the magazines that Jessica would show her. She was beautiful in the way the woods were at sunset with the light shooting through the trees. She was strong and smart and pretty and caring, but she was also loud, opinionated, funny, sassy and quite honestly, she was wild. She had inherited her father’s brown hair and brown eyes, but there was something so uniquely ‘Alessia’ about her appearance.

Her freshman year of high school went much smoother than the movies would have you believe for Alessia. Her grades were good, and they were well maintained by letting Jessica tutor her because “Being a tutor would make me look good on my college applications Alessia!”. And while Forks football team didn’t enter many leagues (and lost all the ones that they did enter) Alessia managed to convince the faculty to let the girls who didn’t want to be on the volleyball team organize their own cheer squad for both teams, her argument being that if there were people cheering the teams on they might actually start winning.

Sophomore year was infinitely more interesting with the addition of five more students to their tiny school.  The Cullen’s were extremely interesting additions to Alessia’s life. In her own year, the three elder students joined her classes, Emmet Cullen who was funny and nice was her partner for English class its it was a wonder they got anything done at all with their running jokes about Mr. Mason and their literary texts as a whole. Emmet’s girlfriend was Rosalie Hale who was extremely beautiful but smart as a whip, she was strangely cold towards Alessia at the beginning of the year but eventually began to warm up to her at the request of Emmet (“she really isn’t all that bad Rose”) and with two new friends in her classes Alessia couldn’t be happier. It was the third sibling who was in her history class that threw her for a loop.

Jasper Hale was Rosalie’s twin brother and he was the only one of the group of five who wasn’t very fond of Alessia, the other two, Alice and Edward were in the year below them and they were always welcoming towards Alessia, especially Alice who greeted her every morning with a friendly hug before launching into some random topic of conversation.  But Jasper seemed to avoid her like the plague which did bother Alessia at first being that she wasn’t very used to people not liking her (her friendly demeanor often meant that people found her friendly and likeable), but after a while she grew used to it, accepting that maybe he just didn’t like her, and that was ok.

The strangest thing about the whole scenario was that while Alessia thought herself to be friends with the Cullens, it seemed that she was the only one, because according to Jessica Alessia was the only one they would entertain the thought of speaking to, let alone hang out with.

The next year is the year that everything changed, for one she began to evenly split her time between the Cullens and her other friend group consisting of Jessica, Angela, Eric, Mike, and Tyler. She would spend lunches with the Cullens and she would hang out with the others every evening after school, she spent weekends on the reserve with Jacob and Leah and the guys and her nights were spent watching sports and playing board games with her father. She was content with how her Junior year was going until March rolled around and the cold wind swept her sister back into her life and caused the hurricane that completely rearranged her world.

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early morning was officially the worst time to be alive, the cold crept through all three blankets on the bed and the hoodie that Alessia was sleeping in that night, and while the cold was never normally something that Alessia minded, 6:30 am was not the ideal time to face it. After taking a shower that seemed way too short and wrestling with her printer to get her Spanish homework for the day ahead she emerged from her room in her usual winter cheer uniform in its navy and gold colours with leggings, trainers and a yellow cardigan over top because Forks in March didn’t mess around and Alessia knew her classrooms would be freezing. Before making her way down to the kitchen she let her eyes linger to the door opposing hers, a door to a room that she had spent the last week clearing out and organizing. It was weird that Bella was coming after all this time, Alessia missed her sister but they had been apart for so long that it was like they were strangers at this point. A car horn is what brought her out of her daze as she rushed down the stairs grabbing her keys, wallet and an apple for some form of breakfast (Alessia wasn’t a breakfast person because eating food so early in the morning made her feel sick, but she knew it would stress Charlie out if she didn’t eat something) before disappearing out the door of her empty house. Her dad’s cruiser wasn’t parked in the driveway which was expected, he always left earlier than Alessia did, what was there instead was a pristine red Mercedes at the end of the driveway with the lights on and inside it sat Rosalie and Alice waiting for her. Alessia’s voice broke through the morning fog as she jogged towards the car, “you know, I should hate you for making me drive to school in a convertible in this weather” the smile that spread across Rosalie’s face matched the one on Alessia’s own as she replied, “yeah well you don’t so get in before I make you walk”.

According to Jessica arriving to school with the Cullens still managed to cause people to stare at Alessia, which she never noticed as she had been doing it for over a year now while trying to save up for a new car, that was a fact she didn’t dare share with any of her friends since when her phone decided to explode one day and stop working she told Alice that she needed a new one and the very next day Rosalie handed her an iPhone that there was no way she could afford, she still had it and took more care of that thing than she did to her own life. No way that was ever happening again. Hopping out of the side of the car after it pulled into its usual spot, she grabbed her backpack and pulled out the notes she needed to give back to Emmet from English the night before. “one of these days I wont be around to save your life you know” he spoke out with his usual mischievous look on his face, “yeah, yeah” she bounced back as she made her way across the parking lot to Tyler’s van where everyone else sat. She was immediately bombarded with everyone asking her if she was coming to the movies that evening. “sorry to disappoint but I have to go to the airport, my sister gets here today” the collective groan at her absence make her laugh as she told them not to be such babies and that she would see them with Bella the next morning, “I don’t want any of you numbskulls giving her any shit tomorrow you hear me?” she said pointing her accusing finger at the three guys in front of her, all of whom faked offence at even the notion. Their goofing off continued until the first period bell rang and Jessica and the others being a grade below her headed off to their homeroom as she headed towards APUSH.

Alessia adored history and she was highest in her class apart from Jasper. Not that she minded (she definitely minded), her teacher Mr Finch was one of her favorite people. He was a kind man in his 40s who had a genuine passion for teaching. Her seat in the back, left corner of the room was right next to the rooms only radiator which was busted but the corner gave her enough cover to be left out of sight by the teacher, she wasn’t in the mood to pay too much attention that morning considering she didn’t grab a coffee before she left the house.

The chatter of her fellow classmates played like white noise as Alessia pulled the top of her chocolate coloured hair into a hair tie and began pulling her homework out of her backpack before giving up and laying her head on the desk in front of her and groaning softly. Her early morning seemed to finally catch up with her, so much so that she did not notice the figure take up the desk beside hers until she heard him speak.

“well, don’t you just look chipper this morning” a southern voice broke through her sleepy haze and caused her mind to stop working for a second. The fact that Jasper was willing speaking to her was definitely new but Alessia was many things and a smartass was one of them. “yeah? well you know your day is off to a great start when you wake up and your first thought is, ‘no’.” she fired back at him raising her head to send a lazy smile his way. The chuckle that left him would have probably made Alessia’s knees weak if she were awake enough to comprehend it “yeah, I know the feeling”.

A smirk broke out on the 18-year old's face as her spine straightened and she looked him dead in his topaz coloured eyes. “did you just… agree with me?” Jasper immediately turned away to face the front of the room, still without a teacher, “oh I wish I could take- “, “nope! You said it! no take-backs!”.

The exasperated look that met her then forced a giggle out of her as she stuck her tongue out at him. “What? I was a very irritating child”, this was met with another chuckle but before he could give another reply Mr Finch’s voice called out as he finally entered the room and commanded all their eyes to the front of the room once more. Alessia let an uncontrollable smile grace her lips as her mind processed what just happened.

Maybe he didn’t completely despise her after all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#twilight x reader #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight rewrite #x oc #original character #Alessia Swan OC #fire in my blood #bella swan #edward cullen #alice cullen #rosalie twilight #rosalie hale #jasper hale

[airi-p4]

Last chance - Chapter 1

Ready for a new multi-chapter Lukanette angst fic? ;)

Rated: T

AO3 Link

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Marinette’s POV

He’s gone.

I took him for granted. For my second chance, my second choice, my plan B. And now he’s gone.

I should have noticed when he kissed me. I thought it was out of greed or desperation, maybe jealousy. But it was not. It was his way to say goodbye. His last attempt to make me notice him. But I only hurt his feelings. And now he’s gone.

For some days, I thought it was alright. Sad, but still alright. He was my second, after all. I should be fine as long as my first choice and the love of my life was still there.

Until it wasn’t.

No matter how much time I spent with my boyfriend, it was never enough to fill in the void he left with me. No matter how many days, weeks, months or years passed by, my emptiness couldn’t be filled back.

I cried a lot, without knowing the reason why. For months, for years. Hiding my tears from my boyfriend.

And then I finally understood everything.

How he had never been my second choice. How he was always the one supporting me. My pillar. How I can’t be happy in a world without him.

I understood what true love was.

Comfort, trust, safety. Good and bad times spent together. Always together. Treasuring each other. Peace.

I misunderstood it for too long and now it’s too late. He’s gone. And he’ll never be back.

It doesn’t matter if I broke my engagement. It doesn’t matter how much I keep writing him messages that I’m unable to send everyday. It doesn’t matter how much I need him. Or how he is the only one I can ever love. He’s gone. Getting married soon, and surely forgotten about me. Probably with the worst impression I could ever leave on him. And I can’t blame him. It was all my own fault.

*Flashback*

“Why… Luka, why did you kiss me? You know I’m with Adrien! You can’t do this against my will! Take it back! I don’t want Adrien to hate me!”

“I’m not taking it back. NEVER”

“I HATE YOU!”

*Flashback ends*

How come I never noticed his pain? Why did I never consider his feelings? I was fond of his love for me. I would internally brag to myself for it. How Marinette is loved by two fantastic boys… How could I ever attempt to get him back after that? He hates me for sure. I hate myself for that, so of course he must hate me too.

Why give it a second chance to a love that ended once? Why should I retry going back to him when his feelings must be fully buried under the sea of his heart, dead. Would it be possible to access there through his deep, calm water-colored eyes? No, of course no. Because he is no longer here. He’s gone.

But how can I keep on going when I’m hurting this much? All my inspiration dried out, only anger, sadness and loneliness kept me going. And my head keeps spinning around, stressing over and over about how I’ll never be able to correct my mistakes.

And now I’ve sunk to the bottom. The dark bottom of my heart. Pitch black. Not a single spark of light is there. Nor hope.

I wonder how many days it has been. Weeks? Months, maybe? I see how my skin is getting whiter and I’m getting skinnier as time goes by. But I can’t help it. I’m not hungry, not even thirsty, not even sleepy. Physical pain has no effect on me anymore. But my heart… All my pain concentrated in that single spot of my body.

I can’t take it anymore… I want to disappear. Just fuse myself with the darkness I’m surrounded by. Turn ashes, or water, or air… maybe a star, if I’m lucky enough. Maybe… If some of Ladybug’s magic luck remains on me… just maybe... a miracle could happen.

Oh

Maybe, it can happen. Maybe I can do it.

I have nothing to lose, and everything to win.

Maybe I don’t have my second chance anymore but I can have one last chance- that’s right, the rabbit miraculous.

It’s been years since I returned the Miraculous box to the Temple of the Miraculous, but I’m still its Guardian. And I still have the only key to open it.

I can do it.

And if the rabbit fails I can always use the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous together… NO… I shouldn’t... If my most precious thing is taken, then there’s no reason to use the wish. I have to make it right with the rabbit. Yes, that’s exactly what I need. I’ll correct this timeline. I’ll rewrite the past, change this reality and be happy at last. It's my only hope.

My last chance.

I stand up from my desk and pass through the door to go see my secretary.

“Sabrina, buy me a ticket to Tibet for tomorrow and cancel all my appointments for this and next week”

“Are you sure, Marinette?” she is surprised. Of course she would be.

“Do it. Tell all the employers they have a two week vacation break”

“Understood. Any seat preference for the plane?”

“I don’t care about that. Just buy me the flight that leaves the earlier the better. I'm counting on you.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as it’s booked”

That’s why I like her. So reliable. “Thanks”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re smiling again. You look way prettier now”

I never noticed I was smiling, or that my face looked better. Is it the power of hope? Probably. I just need to get my things ready. Knowing Sabrina, my leave will be imminent.

I leave the office and reach home in 10 minutes and the phone rings just 10 minutes later.

“Marinette, it’s Sabrina. Your flight is leaving tomorrow morning, 10AM. Be there 2 hours earlier for security procedures.”

“Thanks, Sabrina. I owe you one”

“No, you don’t. I’m always glad to help a friend. I hope you can find what you’re looking for there. Have a safe trip”

“Thank you. Enjoy your vacation”

“I surely will. See you later”

It’s still somewhat strange how my enemy and rival’s BFF is now my secretary. I’m glad I can call her my friend now. She has helped me in a lot of ways, but not even Sabrina or Alya, or any of my friends can cure my loneliness. Not when he is no longer by my side...

The next day, 8AM.

Charles de Gaulle, Paris' International Airport

It’s been a while since I was last here. Since… yeah, that time. The time I tried to reach out to Luka after knowing he was leaving. The day I keep regretting over and over for all these years. Regretting how I never made it on time before he left. How he left just like that, from one day to another. No goodbye. Nothing. He was just gone. I couldn’t stop him and we've never met again after that. Just stepping here triggers the memories of that day I keep trying to bury deep inside my mind.

Yes. It was also that day. The day after the kiss. Our first and only kiss. The kiss I refused to accept for months but that I would give anything now for it to repeat.

Which is exactly what I’m about to do.

I’ve been avoiding coming here all these years for a reason, relying on private planes and small airports. But now I’m here to make this reason disappear. So I can go back to the time he was here. The time I was unknowingly the happiest. Not because of Adrien or any of my friends. Just because Luka was still there, by my side.

I still feel stupid how I didn’t notice my feelings earlier. Even my own feet knew better than me. Anytime I needed support, Luka was the answer. Anytime I needed calm, Luka was there for me. Anytime I wanted to share some happy news, Luka was always happy on my behalf. Anytime I needed a shoulder to cry on, Luka lent me his. And even after he left, my feet kept taking me to where he used to be. Even if his boat was nowhere to be seen anymore. Even if his apartment had a new tenant. My feet always knew better than me. Searching him felt like a need for my body.

But now these feet need to go to a far place, trespassing first through the main doors of the airport.

I search for my flight on the big screen. 10AM, Beijing. There it is. Counter… OK, I know where to go. Tibet, here I come.

I can only take 5 steps until I collide into something. A person. Familiar clothes. Too familiar, maybe. And not the ones I wished to see.

“I can’t let you go, Marinette”

“Alix...”

“I know what you are about to do. I’ve been warned. I can’t let you do it”

“Alix, I need to go. I really need to do this.”

“No, you don’t. You can’t”

“I will”

“You need to stop. You should know better than anyone the consequences. The reason you took away my miraculous… everyone's miraculous... I can’t let you do it”

“Well, Alix, I’m sorry, but you can’t stop me! Look at me. Do I look like I have anything to lose? Do you think I’m strong enough to keep living like this? With all this regret? With this pain? Surrounded by pitch black darkness? No! I’m not strong enough. I’ve tried for so long… I thought I could move on, but I couldn’t! And I can’t take it anymore... ”

“There are other ways…”

“Oh, yeah, I thought of other ways too. The only other one that could probably convince me was jumping from the balcony of my 5th floor apartment. Or maybe from the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug dying on the Eiffel Tower would be even more dramatic, even poetic, I would say. Should I go with this instead?”

“Marinette. There ARE other ways”

“No, there ARE NOT. You know how I work. How I always find a plan for everything. How Ladybug can make anything succeed. Well, this time my only plan involves the Miraculous. So I have no choice but to do it”

“You don’t understand”

“I DO understand. I can’t keep living like this anymore. Luka is getting married. I’ve been avoiding all his dating news, but you can’t run away from them when an internationally well-known French Rock Star like him gets engaged to Chloé Bourgois, former Queen Bee and one of the best stylists in the world. Which means, I don’t have a second chance anymore. It’s too late. He’s gone. Forever. And I’ll also be gone forever too if I don’t go to Tibet right now. Just look at me! Regret is destroying me from my insides. I have nothing to lose anymore...”

Sabrina had tried to hide Chloé’s Wedding Day from me, knowing how I was pining over Luka. But she received an invitation to their wedding, and she marked it on her personal journal. She asked me if she could have that day free. ‘Family matters’, she said. I knew she was being considerate, but knowing Luka was going to be married in two months made him completely unreachable for me. No more draft messages could help me calm down anymore. And the fact that I’m not even invited… It only makes it clearer how he despises me, hates me… or maybe how he has completely erased myself from his memories. I’ve hurt him for so long, so it’s only natural but… not even time can heal me.

But I can restore everything with the Miraculous magical powers.

“You really DO NOT understand”

“I DO! Why do you keep telling me I don’t? I’m greedy! Having my friends is not enough for me anymore! I NEED him. It’s always been him!”

“Marinette. LISTEN TO ME. I’m here because YOU - The future YOU, asked me to come”

“I don’t believe it”

“Futurebug said you wouldn’t. But you need to, because you still have a second chance”

“That’s impossible. I’ve been thinking about this for years and there is no other way, I’m sure of it”

“NO. You’ve just been too scared to try. There’s something you can still do. Something you’ve been too scared to do. The answer you’ve been looking for has always been in your hands. Inside your draft folder. Why haven’t you tried to reach him? Why did you keep your feelings to yourself? You are too afraid of rejection. That’s why you never tried”

Alix is right. I’m scared- no, I’m TERRIFIED. I’ve always been. Every single day since he left. Rejection would be the final piece to my complete defeat. Funny how humans' survival instincts worked… Always avoiding damage, trying hard to live no matter what… That’s what I’ve been doing since that day. I tried replacing his place with Adrien’s love, but it didn’t work out. Everything I tried failed. But I'm afraid Alix is right: I can’t say I put all my effort on Luka. Not when I couldn’t dare to see, talk or even contact him out of my fear. Fear of rejection. Can I be more pathetic?

“Marinette. Just send them. All of them. All your drafts. Send them to him. Let him know how you feel”

“And what would be the point? That would change nothing. He’s getting married, nothing I do can change that. Not after all these years…”

“Why don’t you try? You said it yourself: you have nothing to lose. Give it a try”

She’s right… I have nothing to lose… And if I fail, I can always continue with my plan to change the past and to make this timeline disappear -even with the consequences it would take. I’m still afraid but...

“Ok. I’ll do it. I’ll send them. But with one condition”

“I'm all ears. You know that, Buginette”

“If I do… if I send them… You are not interfering with my plan anymore”

“Deal. But only if you send them ALL, and NOW. In front of me, and wait one week before doing anything stupid”

“ALL of them? There’s more than 900…”

“I know. Almost one for every day you were apart... I want you to send them all. Don’t make that disgusted face. We have a deal?”

“OK. I’m sending all of them. But we have a deal. You’re not interfering anymore”

I know I have nothing to lose but this is still not as easy as I thought… Unlock screen, Mail, Draft folder, there it is. Send them all button… Is my smartphone screen looking blurry? Why is it so hard to press a single button that’s just in front of me? Wait. How do I know he hasn’t changed his e-mail address? Or maybe erased it? I can’t know... but I can not not send them… I have a deal with Alix, and I really want to take this last chance... My finger is just over the button. Just one touch and… press.

“That’s it. Sent”

“Well done, Buginette! I’m proud of you!”

I can’t believe I really sent all those, after all this time… I’m somehow… relieved. Being held by Alix has a slightly calming effect on me too. When did she grow so tall?

“Hey! Don’t cry, Marinette… Now you can go on without regret… you did your best”

I don’t know when I started crying. I didn’t notice. I don’t know when I started clinging to Alix in order to cry desperately. Like a little child who misses his mother or like if someone has just presenciated they loved one’s final breath. I can feel how all the tears I’ve been collecting inside my heart for a long time have started spilling from my eyes. Unstoppable, salty, heavy. Filled with all these years sadness and regret. Now leaving my body drop by drop.

I don’t know how much time has passed. But I can hear how the airline is calling for me. I feel better, lighter. Something lifted from my body. But I’m scared. It’s not that I expect Luka to really see or answer my messages… but there’s that ‘what if?’ feeling one can’t avoid having after making a decision. Even more if it’s a matter of life decision like the one I just took.

“I have to go. Thanks Alix”

“Remember we have a deal. Don’t do anything stupid”

“I know. One week. I can do that. I have nothing to lose, anyway”

“Take care”

“Thanks Alix. You too”

I feel gross from all my crying. Wet, dirty, snots coming out my nose… Thank god Alix had some tissues with her… I used all of them and I still need more. I’ll have to go to the toilet after I finish my check-in. I’m thankful for Alix support, but I can’t look back. What’s the point of sending all those messages now, anyway? I have to be realistic. He’s gone. And this ticket I’ve just got is giving me one last chance.

My only and last chance.

#my fic #airip4 #airipyon #fic: last chance #lukanette fic

[winchester-fantasies]

Backtrack - Summer of ‘98: Chapter 6

Backtrack Masterlist

Series Summary: What if you were the one Dean came to instead of Lisa? Rewrite of “Swan Song” and some of S6.

Word Count: 3589

Warnings: smut, first time, virgin reader, fluff, some swearing

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

A/N: Chapter 6′s song: Hideaway (Kiesza Cover) by Eliza Shaddad.

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

Mid-August ‘98

You tied the straps of your bikini behind your neck before slipping on your sheer cover-up and going to your closet, pulling out your most comfortable pair of flip-flops. 

You and Dean were going to a beach party tonight. It was Andrea’s twenty-first birthday, and she had decided to have it on the beach. You were beyond excited for her and couldn’t wait to celebrate.

But you were also a little nervous. This weekend would be two months since you and Dean had become an item. To some it might have seemed minuscule, but it was everything to you. 

You’d only ever had one boyfriend before Dean, and with Caleb everything had felt rushed, demanding. But with Dean it just felt...right. He had been the attentive and doting boyfriend; you were never without kisses and cuddles, and your bed was beginning to look like a five-year-old's dream, what with the amount of Beanie Babies Dean had given you. But you couldn’t fault him. He was the best boyfriend you could ever wish for.

You threw your hair into a ponytail and grabbed your sunglasses before heading downstairs. Leah was hanging out with friends and your mom and dad had some dinner party to attend so the house was quiet as you descended the stairs. Once on the main floor, you turned on a lamp before leaving, locking the door behind you.

You ran next door to the Winchesters’, letting yourself inside. You could hear the TV as you walked through the kitchen and into the living room, finding Sam sitting on the sofa. He grinned when you entered. “Hey, (Y/N)!” he greeted.

“Hey,” you said in return, plopping down next to him. 

You’d become a regular at the Winchester house since you and Dean had become official and more often than not, Sam was there, too. You both had grown close and Sam quickly became the little brother you’d always dreamed of having. 

You’d met their dad once or twice but never for long, and when you did see him longer than a few minutes, he was always quiet, gruff, and reserved. He had a sadness about him that seemed to keep him closed off to most people, including his sons. Dean had divulged to you that their mom had died when Sam was just six months old, leaving Dean with a gaping hole only a mother could fill and John with a chasm of hopelessness. 

John would sometimes be gone for weeks at a time, leaving Sam and Dean alone. And although Dean had taken on a few odd jobs here and there, it wasn’t nearly enough to see him and Sam clothed and fed. So you’d taken it upon yourself to make sure they had enough food throughout the time John would be gone and nearly every night found both brothers dining with you and your family. Not that your parents minded. They had taken an instant liking to Dean.

“You coming to the party tonight?” you asked Sam.

“Nah,” Sam shook his head. “I think I’m just gonna stay in. I saw there was a new documentary on tonight so I’ll probably just watch that.”

“Nerd,” you teased, playfully ruffling his shaggy hair. Sam grinned, his dimples pronounced. 

“Is your dad gone again?” you asked.

“Yep,” Sam said matter-of-factly but made no move to divulge more. 

“Do you know how long he’s gonna be gone this time?” you asked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Not really,” Sam said. “Probably a few days,” he added with a shrug.

You nodded and pursed your lips. “Do you have anything to eat?”

“Dean got a few snacks from the store earlier,” Sam said, eyes trained on the screen.

“Okay,” you said. “Well, we have leftover pizza in the fridge at home so help yourself. You know where the spare key is.”

Sam turned towards you, a smile once again spreading across his lips. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

“No problem,” you said, gently jostling his shoulder with yours. “I’m gonna go find, Dean.”

You got up from the couch before turning down a long hallway. Dean’s room was at the end and you could see light seeping from under the closed door, music drifting through the wood. 

You rapped lightly on the door before you heard Dean’s voice telling you to come in. You turned the knob, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. 

You gaped as you glanced up. Dean stood in front of his closet, silently surveying the contents, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks. 

“Hey, babe,” he greeted with a grin, turning his head to look at you. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, going to his side.

“Well, I was trying to decide if I should go like this or change back into jeans and a t-shirt,” Dean said thoughtfully. 

“Definitely like this,” you said, more desire than you’d intended seeping from your voice.

“Oh, really?” Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow and giving you a sideways look. 

You felt your cheeks redden and you shrugged. “I mean, only if you really want to.”

“Hmm,” Dean hummed, turning his body towards you before reaching out and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. “It’s not really my thing, but I think my girl likes it,” he said with a wink and a cocky smirk.

You felt your cheeks grow even warmer at his flirting, but you made no move to stop him, instead finding yourself flirting back. “Maybe,” you said coyly, biting your lower lip and looking up at him through your lashes.

“Mm,” Dean growled, his eyes darkening. “You can’t keep biting your lip like that, baby. Drives me crazy.”

“Maybe that’s why I do it,” you teased, sinking your teeth into your lip once more for good measure. 

Dean groaned at the sight, and his grip on you tightened. “Seriously, you gotta stop that,” Dean warned.

“Or what?” you asked innocently, quirking your eyebrow. 

“Or I might just have to show you what it does to me…” Dean whispered. 

“Why don’t you then?” you asked, surprised at your boldness. 

Dean seemed slightly taken aback by it as well before he leaned down suddenly, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. You wrapped your arms around his waist, your hands roaming the bare skin of his back. 

His tongue slid past your lips and into your mouth, exploring and tasting. Dean tended to be a passionate lover, and you found yourself getting lost in him more and more everyday. You knew you were falling in love with him, and as hard as you tried to hold yourself back, to not get too attached, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

Dean finally broke the kiss but didn’t let you go. He reached up, caressing your cheek in his large and calloused hand. His eyes held something you couldn’t quite decipher, but it was something you wanted to witness everyday. 

“We should probably get going,” Dean murmured, seeming reluctant to let you go.

“Yeah,” you breathed, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever.

But Dean finally pulled away, and you found yourself instantly longing for him once again. You walked downstairs, saying goodbye to Sam before stepping out into the warm evening. Dean took your hand once you reached the sidewalk, making your way towards the beach. 

Dean was unusually quiet and you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him. His head was bowed slightly as he stared at the ground, lost in his own thoughts, and you wondered what was on his mind.

“Earth to Dean,” you said good-naturedly, squeezing his hand lightly.

He looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Sorry,” he said with a light chuckle. “I was just thinking….”

He paused longer than you expected, and you glanced at him questioningly. He darted his eyes once more in your direction before casting his gaze to the ground again. “I was just thinking about how much I lo...like...being with you.”

A wide grin spread across your lips and you leaned into him, your hand that wasn’t clasped in his, gripping his arm. You rested your head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly as Dean leaned over to place a chaste and gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I like being with you, too,” you whispered, your chest swelling with an emotion you’d never felt before. 

The party was already in full swing when you reached the beach. Music blasted from the old boombox and a large bonfire blazed as the ocean waves lapped at the beach.

“Hey, guys!” Andrea exclaimed, running over to you and Dean and pulling you into a hug. 

“Hey,” you said, laughing.

“Happy birthday, Andy,” Dean said, sending her a wink.

“Thanks, dude,” she returned. “C’mon over! There’s beer, food….”

You laughed again as Andrea all but dragged you over to the bonfire, Dean trailing behind. Andrea reached into the massive cooler, taking out a couple cans of beer and handing them to both you and Dean. 

“Thanks,” you said, popping open the can and taking a sip. “I thought the party didn’t start till 7:00,” you commented, looking around at the crowd.

“It was supposed to,” Andrea said. “But it had a mind of its own, I guess,” she chuckled.

Andrea suddenly rose to her tiptoes, waving wildly as one of her other friends showed up. “Hey, I gotta go,” she said hurriedly. “But help yourself to the food,” she said, gesturing to the hot dogs and s’mores fixings sitting on a small table. You watched as Andrea scampered off before heading over to the food.

You sat down in front of the fire while Dean went to the table, bringing back a plate and settling down next to you. He took one of the roasting sticks and skewered a hot dog before handing it to you and doing the same to his. You both thrust them near the fire, watching as the flames cook the meat. 

You were enjoying the crackling fire and the sounds of festivity in amicable silence when one of your favorite songs came on. Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your mouth as you slowly started swaying back and forth.

Dean suddenly got up from beside you and held out his hand to you. You looked at him questioningly, but he gave no explanation, instead gesturing for you to take his hand. You took it, giving him a suspicious look before he led you to the other side of the bonfire.

He abruptly stopped, pulling you into him, his hands resting on your hips. You laughed as he began to move his body, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You moved lazily together, your feet sinking and carving abstract patterns in the sand. Dean stared at you tenderly, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies that filled your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his thumb running across your hip gently.

You smiled softly, your fingers playing with the hair at the base of his skull. You were about to say something when Dean suddenly stepped away, grasping your hand and pulling you away from the crowd.

“Wh...where are we going?” you asked breathlessly as you tried to keep up with his long strides.

“I wanna show you something,” he said with a smirk and a wink.

Your stomach flipped as you let him lead you towards a small grove of trees set a ways away from the beach. The sounds of the party soon faded, giving way to the soft sounds of night. 

Dean led you through the trees, helping you step over the loose leaves and small limbs that had fallen to the ground. You gasped when you finally came to the other side of the grove. You stood at the edge of a high cliff overlooking a cove. The sounds of the sea filled the air and the salty breeze blew around you, softly caressing your skin and moving a few strands of hair across your face.

“Wow,” you breathed, shocked that you’d never seen this part of the beach before. “Dean, this is beautiful!”

“It is,” he agreed. “I come here when I’m feeling stressed or when everything feels a little too heavy. It’s my escape…. And I wanted to share it...with you.”

You turned to him, his face lit only by the moon hanging low in the sky. “Thank you for sharing it with me,” you murmured, stepping closer to him. You raised your hand to his face, trailing your fingertips along his jaw.

His breath hitched and his own hands found you, settling on your hips before sliding around to rest on the small of your back. He pulled you forward gently, your chest pressing into his.

You stared into one another’s eyes, reverent, longing. You could have stayed there in that moment for eternity. There was something different about tonight. A shift; something you hadn’t felt between you before. So when he leaned down to press his lips against yours, you couldn’t control the warmth that filled your stomach as electricity rushed through your body.

He shifted slightly, his hands sliding under your cover-up, fingers skimming over the flesh of your sides. 

Since you’d gotten together he was never demanding or impatient - always careful and thoughtful, never touching where you didn’t feel comfortable. But tonight you felt yourself beginning to drown in everything that was Dean, and you didn’t even care. Because tonight you would happily sink.

Your breathing was labored and you were lightheaded when you finally parted. “I want you, Dean,” you whispered, your faces still close enough you could feel the moment the air rushed from his lungs. 

“(Y/N), a...are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. 

“I’m sure,” you said, running your fingers over his temple. “I want to be yours...completely.”

Before you could register what was happening, Dean had you pressed against a tree, his lips pressing into yours with more yearning than you ever thought possible. You kissed him back just as hard, your hands grasping at him blindly, wanting him as close as possible. 

He abruptly stepped away, reaching for the hem of your cover-up and pulling it over your head before reaching for you, swinging you around before gently lowering you to the ground, resting himself between your thighs as you spread your legs. He continued to kiss you before leaving your mouth and trailing his lips down your neck and to your breasts, kissing the tops of the supple flesh.

Arousal washed over you, and your hands left his body, reaching behind you and fumbling for the tie at the back of your neck. You finally undid it, quickly slipping the bikini top off.

Dean inhaled sharply, his eyes raking over your bare chest. “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re beautiful.”

You felt a blush creep up your neck at his praise before he leaned forward, his mouth latching onto one of your nipples. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, and you couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your mouth.

You were sure you could’ve cum just from his current ministrations, but he soon left your breasts, kissing down your torso until he reached the waistband of your bikini bottoms. He looked up at you before you nodded, his fingers slipping underneath and sliding them off.

You shyly spread your legs once he’s dropped the bottoms beside him, and you bit your lip as you watched his face light up at the sight of your wetness glistening in the moonlight.

“Shit, baby,” he breathed, his fingers traveling along your slit. 

You shuddered as he made contact with your clit and you bucked slightly. “Dean,” you mewled, reaching out for him.

“Wait, baby,” he said, running his hands up and down the inside of your thighs. “Gotta get you ready for me.”

You whimpered as he lowered himself between your thighs, his fingers spreading your wet lips before leaning in, his tongue sliding through your folds a few times before finally settling on your clit.

A loud moan escaped your throat as he licked and sucked on your sensitive clit. The sensation was almost too much, and you found yourself tangling your fingers into his hair, searching for anything to hold onto.

“Dean,” you moaned, closing your eyes and reveling in the pleasure. You tensed slightly as he gently inserted his finger into your core, but a tender squeeze of his hand on your thigh reminded you to relax. 

He continued to lap at your clit as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you. It felt somewhat foreign but it wasn’t uncomfortable and before long you felt your orgasm approaching. 

Dean crooked his fingers and with that you came, his name echoing through the night as you ground yourself on his face. 

You chuckled breathily, swiping the back of your hand across your sweaty brow as Dean rose to his feet. You could see how aroused he was, the front of his swim trunks tented. 

You swallowed hard as he pulled his trunks down in one swift movement, his cock springing free. Your stomach twisted in trepidation as the gravity of the situation settled over you. You were going to have sex. For the first time. With Dean. He knew you weren’t experienced, and although it hadn’t seemed to bother him, what if you disappointed him? 

Dean seemed to sense your apprehension because he was smiling softly and reassuringly as he settled back between your legs. “Hey, (Y/N). Baby,” Dean said gently, running his thumb over your cheek. “We don’t have to do this if you’ve changed your mind. I’m in this for the long haul. But I’m telling you right now that there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re beautiful, and I want you so fucking bad it’s not even funny.”

Your sent him a half-smile, sliding your hands along the tops of his shoulders. “I want you, Dean. I really do.” You paused, tracing patterns along his chest absentmindedly. “But...what if I disappoint you? Wh...what if you don’t want me after this?”

Dean remained silent, and when you glanced up, you could see his hard expression even in the dark. “(Y/N),” he said, his voice deeper and gruffer than you’d ever heard it. “None of what you said is true. I could never not want you, and you could never, ever disappoint me.” He leaned down, peppering your face with soft kisses. “You’re perfect….”

He kissed along your jaw, traveling down to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. An all new wave of arousal washed over you, and you gripped his shoulders. “Dean,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his erection, silently begging. 

Dean didn’t say anything as he reached between your bodies, lining himself up with you before pushing himself inside. It was strange, and this time there was a slight sting, but he was understanding and gentle as he pressed forward, pausing every few minutes to allow you to adjust. 

He stopped once he was completely sheathed within your depths, forehead pressed against your own. “You okay?” he whispered. 

You nodded, leaning up, pressing a kiss into the side of his mouth. “I’m ready.”

It was Dean’s turn to nod before he gently pulled his hips back before pushing back in. He set a slow and steady pace, carefully watching your face.

After a few minutes the discomfort faded away, giving way to pleasure. The moment he felt you relax around him, he groaned, his face contorting as he fully allowed himself to enjoy the moment. “Shit, baby,” he grunted, gritting his teeth to keep himself from coming undone too soon. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Dean, please,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders.

Dean understood your plea, his pace picking up. His hand slid down your thigh, hooking behind your knee and raising your leg around his waist. You nearly fell apart as he plunged in deeper, hitting your sweet spot. 

“Oh, my god,” you gasped. “Dean!”

Dean chuckled breathlessly as he continued to pound into you. “I know, baby.”

You shut your eyes, your head tipping back as your pleasure built to all new heights. Dean took advantage of your movement, his lips finding your neck. 

You slid your hands from his shoulders to his quickly dampening back, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. Warmth filled your lower belly and your walls began to flutter. 

Dean buried his face into your neck, his uneven pants ruffling the hair at your temple. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered. 

And you did, clenching around him, a cry of praise erupting from the back of your throat. Your release pulled Dean with you, his hips stuttering and body tensing as he groaned deeply and emptied himself into you.

Dean pulled out, rolling off you, onto his back. He immediately reached for you, drawing you into his side. Dean’s fingers stroked your hip while his other hand found yours, lacing them together.

Your eyes soon grew heavy as you nuzzled your face into his chest, blissed out from the closeness you’d just experienced. You were on the verge of sleep when you felt Dean press a kiss onto your forehead, lingering. He pulled away, his hand continuing to stroke your skin. 

“I love you,” he murmured, right before you fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction series #backtrack #summer of '98

[multiverseofmiracleshq]

Every story has an end. After months of Wanda Maximoff controlling the town of Westview via her reality rewriting Hex, the WandaVision broadcast was dropped along with the barrier. As the barriers were set free and the Avengers rushed in, two confrontations occurred. Witches, corrupt government agents and the inescapable finality of loss all collided in one explosive finale that showed nothing would ever be the same.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

AGATHA: She’d heard enough, seen enough — no more theories, Agatha had all the answers she needed. And that could really only end in one way in her eyes. Wanda had no idea what she was or what she was really even capable of for that matter. Whether or not that made her dangerous was irrelevant — because more importantly : it made her powerful. And if there was anything Agatha had been drawn to after all these years like a moth to a flame, it was power. Power to get out from beneath her coven — her mother — Oh the things one could do with the ability to shape reality. She’d be much more finely crafted with it too, this little world Wanda had created was impressive, but it wasn’t finely tuned. It had it’s kinks and tears — starting with her star contenders falling apart the second it caved. As the witch appeared in the center of the town square, Agatha clawed the air and curled a strike of purple magic at her back. Fitting. the beloved best friend striking her where she least expected it. “Did you know there’s an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold?.” She asked, revealing the grimoire of dark arts before her. Its ember glowing pages flipped to a page for a creature of myth. “—It’s the book of the damned.” A sneer. “The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged — no need for incantation, or coven. Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme. Your destiny... is to destroy the world. —Don’t believe me?—Here.” Agatha contorted her wrist and like snatching scarlet spiderwebs from her mind, she plucked David free from the crimson witches spell.  “James Buchanan Barnes.” Agatha grinned. “Welcome back.”

WANDA: Every game had an end. Maybe Wanda was the queen of denying the inevitable. The part in her brain that was unable to heal was backed by an excess of power she had never understood. It all made more sense now even though Wanda was fairly certain that she knew nothing at all. Darkhold, runes, spells. The Scarlet Witch. How fitting it was to have that as her true identity. Years of hurt and pain had left her feeling powerless but that was never the case. There had always something inside of Wanda that stopped her from falling back into the abyss. It was power, and she had never known how good it could feel. Her body was sore after being thrown around by Agatha. Everyone seemed to have found their way to the town square, every narrative now connecting into the big picture. These people were captives and the woman holding the key was in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She had been forced down memory lane and had her children almost hurt. Vision and the boys remained in her peripheral as Wanda spun to face the Winter Soldier that Agatha had freed. Her chest was heaving from an earlier display of power, her now shriveled hand extended towards the crowd. “--You were happy. You were fine. I’m sorry.”

BUCKY: Mind control was supposed to be easy - a simple switch flipped and lights out to the occupant. Whatever narrative, whatever brainwashing, whatever storyline created would supplant and override, signaling movements and forcing conversations that were unoriginal and baseless. That was the idea behind it, but for someone who had been submerged and pulled from the depths for decades of his life, James could feel the pull against his mind as he emerged and took a breath. It was alarming and painful, as much as it had been the first time he'd look through his own eyes and saw Sam clearly -- saw Yelena stare at him blankly before slipping into a mindless smile --- the thoughts came back to him in waves as he started dumbly before him, settling back into his skin. Going under was supposed to be easy, coming to was supposed to be easy, but it felt more like he was being dismantled and put back together again. James sucked in a breath and felt his body move forward - his first autonomous movement in only Wanda knew how long. "Happy?" His voice cracked from the rush of frustration and anger - the swell of panic from years of torture much in the way of Wanda's methods. "You think I haven't heard that before?"

WANDA: They would never understand. They would never understand and Wanda couldn’t blame them. Her actions had been wrong. They had been selfish and self satisfying. Her grief had become an excuse but no one would accept it anymore. She swallowed thickly, automatically taking a step back away from Barnes. It didn’t matter that she could easily take him down. Wanda was done hurting innocent people. “I just -- I didn’t mean,” Her words were caught up when Dottie approached, now free as well. Sarah Proctor. Eight year old daughter -- please let her out of her room so I can hold her. Dottie then Herb. Phil. Dennis. The citizens were all there with her accusatory stares and Wanda was unable to ward them off. She tucked her hand against her side, the spot where the magic had been extracted shriveled and brown. “Agatha!” That was a shot towards the sky where the witch hovered. “Stop. Please. Just -- stop.”

BILLY: His ties to reality ebbed and flowed, drawing images of a world he didn't recognize, of feelings and emotions that he wasn't connected to - and Billy had always dismissed them. He'd complained to Tommy a few times, even his mom, but they were always dismissed. Dreams, Billy, they're just dreams. But as he stared at Agnes, he was slowly starting to process the mix of memories. He had them both and could reconcile neither and even as the sky cleared, Billy almost wished he could go back under. Stepping back, he searched for Tommy, that instinct to find a brother he had now grown up with and not tugging at him. He didn't know if he wanted to be here, seeing faces he recognized - Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Magneto -- his eyes traced over heroes and mutants that weren't here to help, but they were all awake, and they'd all been dragged into this hell by his alternate reality mother.

YELENA: A glitch in the code. Wanda said they were happy. That meant they were happy, right? Her face twitched as some of the townsfolk cornered Wanda. She wanted to join in even if she couldn’t quite remember why. None of it made sense but there was one thing that Yelena and the the other unconscious residents knew: Wanda needed to stay happy. People were offering her things but she just took a step up towards the man who was supposed to be her husband ( that felt wrong, for some reason ). She didn’t care where the kids were. They didn’t feel like hers anyway at that moment. “I think you should drop it.”

PETER: Peter had been one of the lucky few in Westview that were granted awareness prior to today, and while he couldn’t say he understood just exactly what people like James had been through, the ordeal they had now shared was certainly something he wasn’t eager to get back to. He however, was probably one of the few that harbored more sympathy for Wanda than anger, and the urge to speak up had never been stronger. But Peter knew he’d be outnumbered in his beliefs and doing so would get him nowhere, despite how much his spidey sense was leaving his stomach in utter knots. So he kept quiet, watching from the sidelines as the woman he’d come to know as Agnes hovered above their heads, ready to strike at a moment’s notice should any harm come to Wanda or any of her family.

SAM: Talk about an escalation. One second he was back on his fuckboy shit and the next he was blinking away a massive magic headache again as Wanda’s spell wore off. It wasn’t just him though. Barnes had already engaged in direct contact with her along with a few residents. There were some still asleep judging by the vacant looks on their faces but the whole shebang was rapidly coming to an end. He joined Bucky and Yelena a step closer to Wanda than he preferred, attempting to give her a tight smile. She looked like she was falling apart. A little satisfying, but they had years of light friendship between them. “No one wants any trouble, Wanda. These people just want to go home. Wouldn’t mind it myself, either.”

BUCKY: Sam's voice had felt a lot like Steve's when he'd first heard it in Romania - a tether to the reality he'd been pulled away from. His gaze didn't waver from Wanda's, even if he wanted to turn and confirm that Sam was a real live person next to him, and not more manipulation by Wanda, but the look on her face, the awareness in the people surrounding her was enough confirmation to keep his eyes trained. "Speak for yourself, Wilson." it was clipped, angry. His fingers twitched as the panic continued to rise in his chest, almost overriding his sensibilities. James knew they just needed to get people out, but he couldn't get past how tired he was of people meddling with his brain.

SAM: Shifting from one foot to the other, Sam shook his head. “Nuh uh, nope. I’m not letting either of us getting erased from reality right now.” They had lost Wanda’s attention but she looked like a deer in the headlights. Only issue was that when she panicked she was liable to take everyone with her. “Parker,” Sam turned to Spider-man. “Good to see you’re with us. You ready for ugly?” Not that he was trying to will it into existence. “I’m hoping we got back-up waiting out there.” Knowing Carol, he was surprised she hadn’t smashed through the barrier like it was a spaceship yet.

PETER: Peter was mildly startled when Sam addressed him directly, his head snapping in the direction of the man in question. “—huh- oh yeah. Of course. I mean, not really. But I don’t think I have much of a choice in the matter.” Offering up a smile that slowly began to morph into a grimace, Peter gave Sam a halfhearted salute followed by a not so convincing “Ready when you are, Captain.”

WANDA: They were loud. Their thoughts, their desires. Now, more pressingly: their fear and anger. Norm -- no, Albliash Tandon was talking. When they dreamed - when they were allowed to sleep - they were subjected to her nightmares. This was all a twisted perversion of a fantasy. The people in Westview wanted to die rather than live under Wanda’s thumb any longer and she couldn’t blame them. This was hell on Earth presenting as heaven. Each voice chipped away at her and Wanda crumbled inside. “No, you’re fine.” She reassured them. “You’re fine. I kept you safe in here. You -- You feel... at peace.” A lie. They felt her pain. Wanda was crying and pleading with them like a madman. Her grief was poisoning them. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop Stop. She kept repeating it but they would’t listen. A scream exploded from her chest, hands clutching her face as scarlet tendrils wrapped around their thoughts and everyone in the square dropped. Her children remained off to the side, Agatha in the sky. Wanda didn’t notice any of them as she doubled over. As they writhed and choked, realization set in. “No, stop. Stop.” It took two shakes of her hand before the magic faded. She stared down at them, one whole and one ruined. How had she turned into this? If you won’t let us go, just kill us. No -- no, Wanda would let them go. She’d fix this. And then there was Agatha, goading her. Heroes don’t torture people, The voice of the Witch voice rang out somewhere in her mind above the din. A hero. Wanda was one, past actions excluded. She cared about people. She wanted to change a world that had hurt her. Heroes didn’t hurt people. Wanda was done. Sneakers planted on the ground, Wanda’s spine curved as the force of her magic began to bend her backwards. The column of red energy hit the roof of the Hex and exposed its edges and corners. It felt like ripping a part of herself apart but she still managed a pained, “Get out! Go.”

YELENA: It was incredible to go from being mind controlled into a zombie to being choked out on the street. Her first conscious thoughts were trying to make sure she could breath and then flipping onto her back to blink against the red glow of the Hex. Hex. Barrier. Wanda. With a grunt, Yelena climbed first to her knees and then her feet. Maximoff was there but divided. She was in pain ( not as much as she’d inflected on them though ) and vulnerable. Killing her was tempting, but her belt held no knives or guns. Even though whatever outfit Wanda had forced Yelena into was gone the clothes she had been wearing that night were weaponless. “Блядь,” she spat. “This is where we kill her, isn’t it?”

CAROL: Carol had parked it just a few yards away from the glowing red wall, the force of the magic hot enough to feel like she was standing in front of the sun, but still, she didn't move. She sat with her knees pulled up, forearms resting atop, and she contemplated her options. Behind her, commotion was ongoing as they watched Westview dissolve and they were losing signal because Wanda was losing it and Westview was quickly going dark. It was only a matter of time, and if necessary, Carol would find a way through, even if it pissed Wanda off. She was ready for a head to head. Itching for one. But just as her eyes made the rounds again as she scanned the corners she could make out, the ground beneath her began to shake, responding to a sudden rush of energy. Carol jumped to her feet, the hex splitting open and spilling out light from the other side. She didn't look back, she didn't wait for confirmation. Sending a rush of energy to her feet, Carol shot forward as soon as she saw the trees on the other side, emerging and landing heavily in grass. She didn't even give a glance back - by the accounts she tracked during the observations, she had a pretty good idea where Wanda was -- even if there wasn't a beam of red energy erupting from ground zero.

BUCKY: "Yes." James shoved himself to his feet, the shifting of metal a suddenly phantom feeling as his shoulder accustomed to supporting the weight of his arm again. He didn't even want to think about what else Wanda had changed - what narrative she had forced down their throats. "It sure fucking is."

SAM: Well, shit. The town was glitching. It was rapidly beginning to cycle through the different decades that Wanda had subjected it to. Already in go mode, Sam began waving civilians towards the widening gap. He wasn’t sure how long Wanda could sustain it, but it didn’t look like very long. “No, we’re not going to do that.” He shook his head at Yelena. If she and Bucky wanted to duke it out over who got to deal the final blow, that was awesome for the assassins. Not for Sam though, and he planned on keeping everyone alive. Belova wasn’t pregnant anymore and Barnes had his arm back. His metal arm back, that was. “She hurt more than just us. Right now, our job is making sure she doesn’t hurt anyone else. We get them out of here with her alive. I’m not willing to risk what happens if this barrier comes down on us.”

PIETRO: He’d been standing outside the barrier for what felt like centuries. Each second ticked by like agony as he stared at the sea of red encasing everything he’d ever loved within its clutches. The spread of it was slow at first, crimson stretching apart until it tore — his eyes dropped to the narrow opening just as it shuddered open and he was gone. A deafening boom of sound obliterating the air around him as debris dusted in a wake of blue and silver streaks. He tore through the opening, moving with so much momentum that gravity barely had the chance to acknowledge his presence before he was gone again, across the side of a building in a wide take on the ninety degree angle turn, nothing but a gush of air as he raced down the street. Luna. Crys. Wanda. —Wanda.—Crys. — Luna. wandalunacryslunawandacrys. His mind was racing and then all at once it didn’t matter. She was standing there with their baby in his arms and he slid to a pavement shattering halt with a thunderous snap just thirty feet from them. “Crystalia—“ he appeared in front of her, searching her face—searching Luna’s. “Are you okay??”

HAYWARD: The crack was enough. They were already ready, beyond ready now, as their technology flew out ahead of them, disappearing through the separated barrier to complete its given commands. Hayward packed himself into an armored vehicle and lead the pack of vehicles and tanks as they climbed over the terrain to finally enter Westview. Their concern had little to do with the citizens and more to do with handling the mutant that had created this alternate reality mess. When the truck hit asphalt and entered the town square, he was finally facing down Wanda, depowered and looking exhausted. The town must be empty, he concluded, the citizens fleeing from the twisted story she'd subjected them all to. All that was left was just a minor handful of people, those Wanda seemed closest too considering all the video feeds he'd watched.

AGATHA: Agatha watched the scene before her, floating above the chaos she’d snipped the stitchings to with all the amusement of someone detached and cold. It didn’t really matter to her how Wanda felt. That wasn’t what she was after. “Careful Wanda, your precious babies are tied to this messy little world you’ve created.” Agatha sighed. “Collapse it all now and ..” she tsked “well, look at them. they’re writhing.”

BUCKY: He was seething, struggling to see beyond the slew of memories he had that weren't his -- how happy he had felt, and how that was being soured by betrayal. All he wanted to do was rush forward, even if Wanda snapped him out of existence before he got the chance. But he forced his feet back, forced himself to grab onto Yelena's arm --- something he wouldn't have done under normal circumstances but nothing about this screamed normal -- and started moving away. "This conversation isn't over, Sam." James said with a finality as he turned to usher out the crowd towards the nearest fault in Wanda's wall.

PETER: Peter was suitless, now clad in the same oversized hoodie and baseball cap he’d been wearing the night he was sucked into the hex. Thankfully, however, past Peter had been smart enough to not come unprepared, and present Peter thanked his lucky stars as the familiar feeling of his web shooters materialized around his wrists. Watching James and Yelena nervously, he opted instead to assist Sam in evacuating civilians, using his webbing to pull collapsing debris and obstacles out of the way of the crack in the hex.

DAISY: Daisy had been waiting for the order like everyone else to go into the hex, and as she watched the walls began to collapse she didn’t hesitate to aim her gauntlet covered hands to the ground and sent a shockwave large enough to propel her into the air. It got her far enough to where she was just trailing behind Carol, and she used her powers again to break her fall before breaking off into a sprint towards the town center. As civilians ran past her, she did her best to give them some encouraging words. “You’re all going to be safe soon! Just run towards the edge of the wall as fast as you can!” She didn’t have time to usher people out, though. She needed to find Hayward and stop him from making a strike on Wanda, and everyone else that was still in the surrounding area.

WANDA: It hurt. That was what her mind was focused on. It hurt with every fiber of her being to exert that much energy at once. As the town began to revert and glitch Wanda felt silent tears streak down her face. She deserved this on some level. Her creation and ruination combined. Wanda channeled everything she had into the rectification of her mistake until she felt it. An untethering. There was screaming but then there was the sound of her husband, her sons. They were dying -- again, in  Visions case -- and Wanda wasn’t ready to let them go. There was a scream that left her throat and then the barrier was closing once more. They were tethered, tied. That was mostly true. There was no Vision outside of Westview. The world had saw to that when they took him away from her. But her boys, they persisted. The dissolving aura that surrounded Vision faded away while remaining on the twins. Just like it had happened before they were conceived, a division occurred. Two boys were left coughing on the pavement while their original selves - the older ones - were once again separate. The red faded away and Wanda was left breathless and weak. Even though she felt like she was going to fall over if she took a step she somehow managed to drag herself to her younger boys and her husband. “Are you okay? Look at me -- are you okay?” She grabbed the twin’s by the face, her attention on them and not Hayward’s militia.

SAM: At least everyone was working together. His head tipped in Bucky’s direction as he grabbed the Widow by the arm. Better to let them work it out among themselves. “Didn’t think it was, Bucky.” He turned his attention then towards the current effort. “Hey, spiderthing, you got any reservations about throwing old people?”

TOMMY: He couldn’t quite separate it any more — the younger version of him he’d been combined with and the person he was before, so much so that it was hard to tell which one was falling apart anymore until he finally thought it was just him. All of him being stretched and pulled and ripped away until finally it was like a rubber band snapping and he gasped, staring at a version of himself that didn’t even look like him when he was a kid. “What the fuck?” Tommy said, sitting flat on his ass in the middle of the street. His hands flapped around his torso, checking for—for holes or janky missing parts— maybe parts that weren’t his but nothing, none of that just...him. all him. “...Billy....???” He called out warily.

MONICA: Monica didn’t want to talk about where she had been or her unfortunate experience with Ralph Bohner. That was for another day. Ultimately, she had wasted time getting to the town square. The barrier was closing again but the space had been inundated with familiar faces. “Hey, S.H.I.E.L.D.” She tilted her head towards Daisy as their paths intersected. “Wanda -- is she alive still?”

YELENA: To say she was angry was an extreme understatement. Yelena had been indoctrinated for as long as she could remember. Her entire being had been reduced into being a replacement for a woman who had decided to move on. Yelena was not Natalia. She had learned that over time, even though they had denied her own name. She was her own, and yet, Wanda had erased that. An American. One who made pies and gave a shit about what people thought about her. Yelena was not the pretty one. She never had been. That was Natalia, lithe and delicate. Yelena hid in curved edges. She wasn’t a beauty queen and suburbia was never in her cards. Having someone who loved her was almost as ridiculous. Two assassins as parents? No. She refused to let her hand touch her stomach like it had when she was pregnant. Yelena knew what was there: a scar. no signs of life. She made it approximately five steps before pulling her arm from James’ grasp. “Ты не мой муж, James ( you’re not my husband). Отпустить (let go). I’m not leaving.”

PETER: Peter continued in his efforts of getting civilians to safety as quickly as possibly, but Sam’s voice once again snapped him out of it, “—do I what? You can’t be serious, dude!” Yelena was clearly growing angry pretty quickly and Peter was growing overwhelmed. The sounds of Wanda’s distress mixed with that of utter chaos were almost becoming too much to handle, but Peter stuck to it, launching himself toward the Captain with his webbing and landing beside the man with a soft thud. “You want me to — “ he held up a web shooter and vaguely gestured in Yelena and James’ direction with a shrug.

SAM: “Desperate times, desperate measures, man.” The octogenarians weren’t really moving fast enough and Wanda had finally lost steam. They were going to be trapped but the heroes could at least take care of themselves. As Peter moved to stand by his side, Sam’s shoulders rose and fell. “I don’t speak Russian and I know she can kill me. He could too, but we’re friends. Mostly. Think we let them work it out?”

VISION: It wasn’t the first time he’d felt himself being torn apart at the seams—at the barrier, he’d felt it then. The popping of parts as they flew loose, chunks of reality melting away into stardust and matter. He strained to reach them—his wife, his children. “Wanda!—Boys!” he gritted through his teeth, pushing through an invisible force that allowed no headway. Then all at once, he collapsed, all his pieces flew back into place and he caught his breath. His sons had once again separated into their older and younger selves. “I’m alright.” he assured her, looking to his children for any missing chunks.

WANDA: They were okay. They were fine. Maybe they wouldn’t be in the long haul, but in that moment her family was whole once more. No missing pieces, no slipping away and dissolving into the air. Wanda exhaled a sigh of relief, kissing the top of Billy and Tommy’s heads. The barrier was back in place and they had once again stolen a few extra minutes. “Go home, boys.” Wanda released them. “Get to safety.” Not that anywhere was safe. Their house had been a haven. At the very least it put a few walls between themselves and Hayward’s agents. Wanda had warned them off. She had told S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave her alone but they clearly no longer feared her. No fear, no respect. Wanda was just another obstacle. She squeezed Vision’s hand, relief bubbling in her chest. Wanda had barely made it to her feet when something slammed into her and a vice grip was around her neck. White hands led up white arms and a ivory form. It was the Vision but it was not. There was something cold and calculating about his blue eyes. Even though she had just seen her husband, there was something unsettling about his quiet form. He was achingly familiar. “Vision?” She rasped. He just stared at her before his grip tightened. “And here I thought you were supposed to be powerful.”

PETER: Peter spoke to Sam in a manner akin to a student whispering to his friend in the back of class, careful to not let the teacher catch them, “— yeah, but if we leave them be - won’t they go after Wanda? I don’t know if I can take them both — “

TOMMY: Grabbing his correct twin, Tommy took a fistful of the back of his shirt and raced them both out of Westview before the barrier could close back up.

CRYSTALIA: There was a chance that Crystal was the only one who had willingly entered Westview. She hadn’t really know what she was signing up for but knew she had no choice. The second that Luna had vanished there hadn’t been a single thing in the world that mattered more to her than setting things right. There was a crippling fear that it was Crystal’s fault it had happened in the first place. Realistically she knew Wanda’s powers, but as a young first time mother it all seemed so pivotal on her inability to hold on when it mattered. And so, she entered hell. Crystalia wasn’t a Princess anymore. She had a ridiculous backstory and always felt exhausted even when she smiled. And she was always smiling. Her child screamed and she was helpless to do anything until Wanda fixed it. It felt impossible to say how long it had been, but the second the red cloud began to leave her mind Crystal began to panic. Luna was awake but wasn’t crying. The infant almost seemed solemn. Had Wanda hurt her? Crystal would kill her if so, but the baby betrayed nothing. Everyone in the town square was loud. They were panicking but Crystalia was trying to center herself. She was naturally attuned to the world -- being in elemental meant being grounded. She could feel the vibrations of the earth and the moisture in the air and that was reassuring. That being said, it’s hard to be grounded when your not sister in law decides to choke an entire town out. Crystal had pressed Luna against her, resting the unaffected baby on her chest as she hit her knees. Pietro loved Wanda. Crystal had spent her abbreviated pregnancy watching him all apart. He loved her, but Crystalia hated her. She hated what she had done to her and her daughter. At the thundering sound, the Princess instinctively tucked Luna against herself. Head spinning, she took a step towards her baby daddy Pietro. “It’s you.” As in, not the fake version she had been forced to marry.

SAM: There was a noncommittal grunt. “Bucky, no. He wants to but he knows what we’re focusing on. Yelena, I’m not sure. It would be easier if Nat was here.” Not that the sisters relationship was outwardly anything other than contentious. “I’d say lovers quarrel but that wasn’t real.” Technically their sleeping together was but Sam wasn’t sure if that was public knowledge. “Speaking of lovers, you see a Carol shaped comet yet?”

PIETRO: When they’d vanished he felt the last parts of himself that he’d been clinging to, crumble. Wanda had been rejecting him in more ways than one and ripping his new born and Crys from him just days after Luna had been born had broken something for him that just hadn’t operated right since. His mind loosely drifted to his twin but he was more focused on this—Wanda could handle herself. Right now he needed to hold his daughter and her mother. Pietro pulled both of them against him, tucking Luna between their bodies as he wrapped them in his arms. He felt a breath fully expand his lungs for the first time in weeks. “It’s you.” he said. “Both of you.” He kissed the top of her bright red hair. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

DAISY: Daisy smiled a bit when she saw Monica, glad to see the familiar face. “S.W.O.R.D.” She breathed out in a sigh of relief before she stopped in her tracks and nodded as she pointed over towards the big red beam in the sky, but then it faded again and her head tilted to the side. The borders were closing, but thankfully she seemed to still be in her right of mind. For now, at least. “Where the hell is Hayward?”

CRYSTALIA: Folding into him, Crystal allowed herself to take a shaky breath. She wasn’t sad, only angry. Her child had been endangered for no reason at all. “It’s me. As of a few minutes ago, at least.” There was the sharp curl of humiliation in her stomach at the thought of who Wanda had forced her to be. Her family had to be worried. She was an adult but she’d always be the baby of the family -- forever the princess, never the queen. It was a miracle that the Inhumans hadn’t taken any kind of action against Wanda. Or, she assumed they hadn’t. Although it was nearly physically painful, Crystalia angled her body to offer Pietro his daughter. “She hurt us.” It was hard to explain the feeling. “Every second. Just grief. But you, you were there.” Wanda mourned her brother. Maybe she knew Crystal’s connection to him and let her share in that sorrow. Falling silent as her processing spun slowly, the Inhumans brows furled. “She had me get married to some knock off version of you who smelled. I had to live with him.” Not that he cared or was attentive. It was just part of the game.

BUCKY: James stopped, giving the collapsing Hex a glance before he shifted his gaze to her. "И что вы будете делать, Yelena." and what will you do? He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to deal with it. With regret already settling into his skin, James bent and scooped Yelena up by her hips, hinging her over his shoulder, his metal arm tight around her waist. He knew he was taking her choice from her just minutes after she'd gotten it back, but she could take that out on him outside of Wanda's hell fantasy. He followed Sam and the rest.

PETER: Peter was shocked to notice James scoop Yelena off her feet and carry the assassin to the break in the Hex, but he didn’t question it, gaze instead flicking to the sky to check for any sign of the Carol shaped comet. “I don’t know? Thought I saw her earlier, Quake was nearby too — she shouldn’t be too hard to spot!” he spoke a bit louder, almost a yell, over the rumbling chaos.

YELENA: Body thrashing slightly, Yelena knew five ways to break his hold that would also bring him to his knees. She knew how to fight back but she was exhausted. Her body didn’t know how to handle going from being pregnant to remembering that it was impossible to exist in that state. “я собираюсь убить тебя ( i’m going to kill you ),” she hissed, knowing that his ear was right by her mouth. Going slack then, the spy allowed him to carry her away from the place she wanted to be and the person she wanted to kill.

VISION: He was flying over Westview, scanning for his wife among the scattered bodies running around below. When he finally passed over their home, he found a startling view: a being, stark white in nature — and worse, he seemed to have Wanda by the head. A visual that sent his vital organs or lack thereof  plummeting to the earth below. Vision rocketed forward, slamming into the other synthezoid with a force that sent them tumbling into the ground like an asteroid. They left a crater in their wake as he carried him far away from his family. Vision threw the synthezoid up, chasing him higher into the sky—farther away from Wanda.

MONICA: “Hayward’s where Wanda is.” Monica replied, knowing it to be true. “He wants Vision and she’d do anything to protect him. That’s where I’m going.” Without waiting, Monica turned to move towards the glowing epicenter with the notion Daisy would follow. As the red column began to die down she hurried her pace into a run until she skidded to a stop. Hayward was looking smug and his shoulders were at the ready. It was then that they fired at the retreating forms of Wanda’s twins and without any hesitation Monica threw herself in front of them. She had been the one to help deliver them. Even if it was all fake, she had handed the newborns to Wanda and watched that love grow. One bullet entered and then the other. There was no pain or skin breaking. For a moment it was just light. It was like breaking through the barrier. Monica felt them enter and exit in a surge of energy. She blinked through a new golden glow, mind trying to comprehend the sight of Vision wrestling what looked like a ghostly version of himself away from Wanda. “It’s over, Hayward.” It was easy to say when you had just tapped into the light spectrum. “It’s done.”

SAM: Holding both hands up, Sam shook his head. They were going to sort it out. The Winter Soldier and White Widow were well equipped for one another. Maybe Belova would try to kill Barnes. He couldn’t see it going the other way. Not that Sam was actively betting on Barnes’ love life. “If you want to go, kid, I don’t blame you. I’m going to stay here though. See if anyone needs help.” Leave no man behind. Sam was trying to be the best Captain he could.

PIETRO: An actual twinge of pain ebbed through him at her words. She hurt us. They echoed through his skull like gun shots. He felt his tongue go dry and his legs go numb as he pulled her to him a little tighter. They weren’t words he’d wanted to hear, but he needed to. The part of him that twitched to run to Wanda in any capacity was subdued by a haunting feeling of guilt. He had missed her but the joy of seeing her again was squandered by pain she’d caused. To his daughter. Crystalia. Him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—I should have protected you.” You never should have been there. I should have stopped her. She should have never done this. The words died on his tongue before they had a chance to form. It didn’t matter. The damage was done. And no amount of words would remedy the scars that had been left. “What can I do?” He asked into her hair, smoothing a hand down her back. At her comment about the awful imposter that had been branded with his name, a subdued scoff of a laugh left his throat. “He smelled, huh? Well at least you don’t like him better.” He mused, an ill attempt at a joke. Of course she wouldn’t have. He’d been awful.

DAISY: Daisy quickly followed suit behind Monica, with absolutely no hesitation. They needed to make their way over there, and fast. There was no telling what Hayward had planned. And sure enough, Daisy ran up just in time to see an ivory tinted version of Vision and the real- er, hex vision flying up into the sky with him. “Shit..” She muttered under her breath as she sped up her pace. And when she ran up to Hayward and saw him opening fire on a couple of kids, her heart sank as she realized that she was too late. She quickly held her hand up and tried to pinpoint vibrations on all of the guns to shake them apart, but the bullets had already exited the chamber. In fact, he fired several rounds before she was able to destroy the guns. But then Monica was throwing herself in front of the kids and Daisy’s eyes widened as she watched the bullets go straight through the other agent. That must have been a new development. And she very quickly quaked most of the bullets in a different direction before they could actually hit Billy and Tommy.  And then, she turned to Hayward and narrowed her eyes before tilting her finger and using her powers to snap all of the bones in his hand and his wrist. “Stand down, now. Or I’ll break a lot more than just that.”

PETER: Peter debated his next move for a few seconds, and while Sam was partly right - he did want to leave, to go home, to call MJ and Ned, and make sure everyone was okay - he also knew what he had to do. He was Spider-Man. Maybe he didn’t quite look like it at the moment, sans suit, but there was no denying it - and there was no walking away from that. “No — I’ll stay, I’ll stay. Just - tell me what you need me to do.”

CAROL: She felt sheer force slam into her shoulder as Carol full bodied the nearest armored truck, smashing it into the nearest one and then cascading that energy through the tank nearest to the rest. It was a calculated move -- they were aiming guns at children and the tank was setting up to fire. Now, she had put enough force and energy through the vehicles that they were little more than metal boxes now as she peeled herself out of the metal and took a moment to crack her back. "You really underestimate us, Hayward." She said casually just before she registered Monica. She didn't have nearly enough time to address that situation before she spotted Sam. She didn't say anything to him, she didn't know what she'd say, so she looked to Monica and Daisy. "Nice teamwork guys. Now. Where's our mutant?"

SAM: Peter was a good kid. They had a strange introduction but Sam could say that about everyone he knew at this point.  He was offering his mouth to respond when the Carol comet he had inquired about smashed into Hayward. Coughing from the dust that rose from the rubble, Sam jutted his chin towards where Wanda was sucking in breath. “Looks like we have a Vision problem.”

LORNA: As it stood, Lorna was positive she was going to go back towards being an only child. Erik didn’t even like Pietro and they had basically just met him. The mutant had come to alongside her father. Her green hair was a dull brown that was only just returning to its normal hue. It felt ridiculous to be standing in a full cape and headpiece in the middle of the town square, but Lorna had other things to focus on. Carol Danvers ( ugh ) was smashing into Hayward and someone Lorna didn’t recognize was apparently casually breaking his bones. Striding up, green flared around the guns of the soldiers before they snapped in half. The bullets unloaded to clatter pointlessly to the ground. “God, I love guns. More than I love this family at least.”

MONICA: Teamwork made the dream work. Monica had been trained as an agent to learn how to balance working with a group. It made life easier. She became a human target, Carol was Carol and the new Agent was inflicting pain on Hayward that Monica would personally have loved to be responsible for. “She willingly took the barrier down.” Monica said as she strode in Carol’s direction. “But it was killing her family. That was before another Vision showed up. And, also, there’s a witch.”

PETER: Peter watched on in a slight crazed panic, at the scene Sam alerted him to, and a broken smile forced its way onto his face, “Hey then we better get some glasses — you know..? Because - vision problem,” he quipped, regretting even opening his mouth before shaking his head and launching a web toward the wrestling duo, the tendril managing to cling to the bottom of one of the ghostly vision’s feet. Peter gave a sharp tug, but it didn’t appear to do much besides briefly interrupt the fight, “Uhh - what do I do??”

CAROL: "Another Vision?" Carol shot a look at Hayward, but he was too preoccupied dealing with his bones and the loss of his firepower to pay Carol any mind. "Witch?" That also caught her attention. "Another mutant then or?" she didn't know why the questions mattered. They didn't. They'd just been so out of the loop for so long she was itching for answers. "So let's go get her then."

VISION: The sky lit up in an array of blue and gold as the two synthezoid’s went at one another, each determined to destroy the next. In all the thrashing, he kept them steered clear from anyone below. “What are you?”

CRYSTALIA: It was over. Or, at the very least, it almost was. Wanda was out of her mind and the absence of the spell left the clarity of uninterrupted thought. Pietro pulled her even closer and there was a comfort to be found in a firm embrace. He was strong -- maybe not strong enough to stop his sister -- but solid nonetheless. All Crystalia wanted to do was rest. If she broke down it would not be there. Her pride was too persistent. “It’s not your fault,” Crystal shook her head, one hand briefly resting above his heart. “Any anger I have is towards Wanda. There was nothing you could have done.” Once Wanda wanted something no one had been able to stand in her way. There was a hurricane of emotion that could be sorted through later. Right the she just wanted to make sure her daughter was safe. “You can take us home.” Wherever that was. New Attilan or the Avengers Compound. Home was anywhere but Westview. Even then she doubted that she’d sleep well but at least it would be on her own terms. At the mention of “Pietro”, Crystal shook her head. Her hair was down and loose in strawberry curls, fly aways blowing into her face. “He didn’t come around much and he didn’t care about Luna. I can’t even remember marrying him.”

THE VISION: What was he? A good question. He was functional, capable. He was built with a purpose to last. He was, most importantly, real. That was more than the synthezoid he grappled with could say. Their twin bodies phased through one another, mental beams hitting empty air. “I am the Vision.” The reply was simple, syllables plain and straightforward. This was not something he struggled to understand. His being was laid out in code and his object is clear. Body twisting in the air to get a grasp, the synthezoid managed to get hit a hit in that sent his counterpart hurtling through the air and crashing into what appeared to be a library. His descent was slower, cape gently fluttering around his legs as he hovered above the wooden floor. “And I am here to neutralize the Vision.”

DAISY: Once Hayward seemed to have given up, Daisy stomped towards him and grabbed him by the arm, glaring down at him. As she glanced behind her and spotted a couple other S.W.O.R.D. agents who made it through the barrier with them, she practically shoved him towards them and shook her head. "Take Director Dick here back towards the base once the barrier opens back up. We'll deal with the paperwork there." She insisted, and the other two didn't even question it as they got him in handcuffs and loaded him into one of the nearby vehicles. She approached Monica and Carol at the tail end of the conversation. "I'm sorry did you say another witch?" As she glanced up towards the sky, she finally saw the woman who was surrounded by a purple aura and her eyes widened. "Oh, yeah. That's another witch. Let's find Wanda."

VISION: Vision rose to his feet, facing his ghostly counter part once again, head on. He charged at him, tangling them in a web of vibranium limbs, he twisted White Vision into a headlock, stilling them for a breath of a moment. then it occurred to him:  “But I’m not the true Vision. Only a conditional one.”

WANDA: It was time for it all to finally end. Wanda had kept up the ruse for as long as possible but the walls had done more than cave in. There were Avengers - friends - and there had been innocents. Wanda had walked through her reasoning and watched it go down in her minds eye. She had been many things, but fear was the root cause of everything. It all traced back to her fear -- and she was terrified no more. There was just calm resolve as she left Carol and the others with Hayward. Rising into the air so that Westview became a map below her, Wanda gave it her all. She tried to enter Agatha’s mind as the Witch had once done to her. It was a failure of an idea, the coven of witches that Agatha had drained instead turning on Wanda. In some ways she was out of her element, but there was also a part of her that had been waiting for this moment. Agatha wanted to know how she did it? Fine. She wanted her power? She’d let her try to take it. Wanda couldn’t escape her fate. She threw blast after blast and felt her body start to shrivel up. If Agatha wanted it all, she could have it. Red poured from Wanda into Agatha, purple and red mingling. She gave her everything she had until she was left floating with red eyes and withered skin.

AGATHA: Agatha had asked for it — but the funny thing about wishes — you had to be careful with them. After all the universe did like to screw you. Honestly she was a little surprised to see the red witch cave so easily — not that it stopped her from draining her of everything she could. Her magic tasted hellish on her tongue and it filled her with a sense of power she’d only ever sensed in beings of the cosmic scale. Her arms stretched wide as the tendrils of chaos flowed through her—and then...suddenly...it stopped. No. No—that wasn’t right, they weren’t done. Agatha tried to draw more, only nothing happened, not even a sputter of sparks from her finger tips. “What?”

MONICA: “Y’know, I really wanted to be the one who did that.” Monica shook her head. Hayward had taken something her mother had created as a labour of love and exploited it for power. There was a sharp sting of disappointment that she couldn’t be the one who finally got to haul him away in sweet retribution. But this was reality. You didn’t always get to be the hero you wanted to. Hayward had been taken care of and Monica had to be happy with that victory. “Agatha Harkness. Turns out Agnes wasn’t just a nosy neighbor.” They had only interacted marginally. Geraldine had no reason to pay her much attention. “I know where Wanda is.” A finger pointed upwards. “And I’m not getting involved.”

PETER: Peter jogged up to Monica and the others, having just witnessed the immense transfer of power between the two witches, “Does anyone have any idea what’s happening?? I don’t think my web shooters will do any good against that,” he pointed to the sky, worriedly.

REMY: Plenty of them had stood at the border, waiting for something more than silence and occasional updates on the happenings of inside. But then the Hex had fractured and teams had been ordered in for extraction - save the people, evacuate the town - and Remy had done his best to follow that order, but he didn't know how to be a hero. Not really. Not in the selfless capacity. He slipped down back alleyways to avoid the crowds of people and just followed where they were fleeing from until he emerged in the center of the town. There were trucks, SWORD had made it in, and a few stray heroes were incapacitating them. But his attention was drawn elsewhere, because goddamit he was tired of the loss and gain of their relationship. "You gonna keep making me chase you down?" he said, just loud enough to grab Lorna's attention. "I'm starting to wonder if it's on purpose" there was no immediate threat, nothing he could attack, even if they, and he, were still on high alert. And this was the only way he could manage because presently, he wasn't managing well at all.

CAROL: Carol followed Monica's gaze and she almost shot a load of energy into her boots but forced herself to stay planted. As much as she wanted to engage, it would be out of her own selfishness, not because she was needed. "Fine." she looked straight at Monica. "You wanna explain to me what the hell is going on with you then?"

DAISY: "He's all yours once we get back to the base." Daisy insisted, knowing that Monica would love to be the one who did his official intake. She may have let her anger get the best of her back there once she saw him firing at those kids, but then she was reminded of those bullets floating straight through Monica like she wasn't even solid matter. And then Carol mentioned it and Daisy couldn't help herself from commenting too. "That was really brave of you back there. Stupid, but brave. Did you even know you would be able to do that? That's new, right?" She didn't remember powers being mentioned at all when it came to Monica.

PIETRO: It didn’t matter whether or not it was his fault, he didn’t do his job. Against the one person he should have been best at it. Her words stung, but he understood where they were coming from. She had a right to be angry — he was still angry. Loving Wanda more than he could handle didn’t exclude him from holding her accountable. You can take us home. He nodded, relief flooding him to know they’d be sleeping under the same roof tonight. They were alive and well and his. He smoothed the stray pieces of her red hair from her face and kissed her. “Then don’t. Marry me instead.” He proposed. It seemed to come from no where, but he’d been thinking about it before. He’d only stopped himself because he hadn’t wanted it to happen just because of Luna. Now though — he just didn’t care what it looked like. He was tired of tripping up on calling her his girlfriend because it was so much more than that between them. “Yeah.” he said, tilting his head and tucking her hair behind he ear. “Marry me.”

WANDA: Surprise. It turned out that Wanda was an incredibly quick study. She was barely able to stay afloat and it felt like Agatha had taken everything from her, but Wanda persevered. That was what she did. Time and time again she found a way to survive. As Agatha’s realization began to dawn Wanda found herself revitalized. Runes. They began to glow as the giant shapes lit up the sky. “In a given space, only the witch who cast them can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson, but I don’t need you to tell me who I am.” It was like the floodgates were opening. This was chaos unleashed. Agatha was pleading but the world was a red blur. It encased Wanda in its blinding light. She felt it solidifying around her temple, infusing her with pure potential. Destiny, fate, burdens. All words that had been thrown at her. At that moment, Wanda didn’t care. She was everything and she was nothing. She was, without a doubt, the Scarlet Witch and as a nexus of powers potential personified. Maybe Agatha was right. She didn’t fully know what she had done. Encased in magic, the new scarlet of Wanda’s outfit reflected the failing borders of the world she had built. For so long she had lacked a name, and in some ways, a higher purpose. That was no more. Red swirled around her palm as Wanda lowered herself and the defeated Agatha back towards the ground. She dropped the Witch unceremoniously before gently drifting down herself. Something was different. Everything was different. Red died from green eyes as Wanda turned towards the small crowd of people she knew, silent as her power threaded itself through her veins.

CAROL: Carol shifted her attention abruptly, calculating the woman who stood before her. She always knew Wanda was powerful - she'd dealt with enough powerful mutants to build a roster and by now, her instinct was to defend. "Wanda-" she started, but she made no move to approach. "You've got a lot of things to own up to." If Wanda attacked, Carol would defend -- but the last thing Carol would do was retreat, no matter if Wanda got a fancy new outfit in the last ten minutes up in the sky.

PETER: Peter couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Sure he’d fought in battles by Wanda’s side before, and even fought - well tried to fight - Wanda herself. But this was different. This was a whole other level — and Peter felt almost frozen in place as he watched everything commence, only broken from his trance-like state at the sound of Carol’s voice addressing the now grounded Wanda.

THE VISION: The two fought. They were beings forged with great power but remained intellects at heart. He required further elaboration. The two talked then, quick debate spurred on by processing cores and a desire to learn. This was the Ship of  Theseus, the dilemma of a conundrum. They were both Vision and they were not. One was memory and heart and the other the tangible devoid of that which had once made him. He could not destroy the Vision because he was the Vision. Alternatively, neither of them were the Vision. They had been twisted by greed -- both that of Wanda’s love and Hayward’s thirst for power. Together, perhaps, they could be one but that was not to be. Life had made them diametrically opposed through intentions he did not understand. It was with a quiet hesitation that the Vision let Vision touch the processing chip that had once housed the Mind Stone. And then -- clarity. Wanda. Sokovia. Wanda. Ultron. An accident that rendered a man paralyzed. This was the Vision as he once was. He was machine made more. Recoiling backwards, the blue of his eyes began to clear. “I am Vision.” Where that left the other he knew not, but the revitalized Vision shot out o the building without another word and escaped the barrier to find a place to enter deep contemplation.

VISION: Vision watched him go, left to float by himself among the now quiet air of the library. After but a moment or two, he soared out of the hole in the roof of the building to find Wanda and the boys. He didn’t know where any of it left the other synthezoid in his programming to destroy himself, but he was hoping it would override it. Upon landing, Vision phased through Carol to get to Wanda. “Captain Danvers.” he said on the pass through. “With all due respect, while I understand your qualms with my wife, they can wait another ten minutes — we’ve our children to get to.”

DAISY: Daisy watched in awe as Wanda fought it out with Agatha, still kind of in shock that this was the level of threats she was dealing with nowadays. That really was an Avenger up there, and she was standing next to freaking Captain Marvel. She was practically in the same amount of shock as Peter was as she stared dumbfounded with him, only to snap out of it at the sound of Wanda’s feet hitting the grass. She glanced down at Peter and raised her eyebrows at him in an attempt at a silent conversation, knowing he’d probably get her amazement.

MONICA: For what felt like the hundredth time in her life, Monica stood with her head tilted up towards the sky. This time there was no stars or Aunt who had turned to legend. It was a broken woman and a force set out against her. “I think what’s happening with me can wait.” Monica’s voice was quiet. She understood aliens but magic was new to her. She wanted to hate Wanda -- and a part of her did. Didn’t change how beautiful she looked dripping in scarlet and power. Turning towards Daisy, Monica nodded a few times before she remembered to speak. “Westview side effect. Looks like a lot is changing now.”

SAM: Carol was right. Wanda did have a lot to own up to, but they also had a lot to process and a lot of people to deal with. There was an arm extended in front of Carol. It wouldn’t stop her. It was purely a gesture. “It’s time for goodbye.” He said quietly, knowing what Vision meant. Besides, he was tired. They all were.

DAISY: Daisy blinked when she realized she was being spoken to. She turned her head to Monica and nodded. “Oh yeah, you went in before..” She could only imagine how having your entire reality rewritten and unwritten like that twice could effect your molecular anatomy. Daisy just knew that FitzSimmons would have a field day with trying to figure that out. “Still, that was super cool you know.”

TEDDY: Teddy Altman had been through a lot in the last couple of months, let alone the year. He’d lost his boyfriend twice—once to death, a second time to his scary mom. He’d been crowned the emperor of two empires that hated each other and was somehow expected to hold them together. His time on earth was limited most days, and while it made the frustration of not being able to get his boyfriend out of the hex — he was pretty floored to find out it was not only open, but the woman he’d been told about was involved. “Monica Rambeau?” Teddy said, approaching her. “My name’s Teddy. Can we talk?”

CAROL: Carol's eyes snapped to Sam, an incredulous furrow in her brow. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." she said on a breath but ultimately, she took a step back, actually turning around fully and away from Sam. "Good to know. I'll keep this in mind for the next villain we face."

CRYSTAL: Marry me instead. Crystalia’s mind was torn between the subtle swaying of rocking the baby and the processing of what had happened. Wanda would always be in her life, even if she wasn’t with Pietro. They were bound forever by blood and bone now. She was lost in touch - actual touch not being controlled by another - and the feeling of his lips against her own. “Marry you?” Of course she had thought about it. They had a child together and it was all but expected by an aristocratic family that worked on tradition. Crystalia had a child out of wedlock. Not only that but it was with a mutant who had a terrorist sister nonetheless. “Marry you.” The word was a sigh. She loved Pietro. She loved the family they had made. He wasn’t on one knee and they stood in the middle of a possessed town, but there was an odd romance to it. “Of course I’ll marry you.” Crystalia leaned up to kiss him. It was nice to have a choice this time. “I love you. All this craziness aside. I do.”

PIETRO: He wanted Crystalia and the baby out before he could think much of anything else. They had to be safe before he could get to Wanda and once he knew that Crys had Luna cradled to her chest, he’d picked her up and ran both of them back to Attilan in the Hudson. The entire ordeal had really only taken just minutes — mostly because he’d had to separate himself from them once again and convince his now fiancée to let him go speak to the same woman that had caused all of their pain. Even if that person was his sister—his twin, the same flesh and blood of his own—it still left its scars.

WANDA: They stared. Wanda sensed their indecision and, in some cases, their anger. Let them. It didn’t matter anymore. She knew what she had and what she had to lose. “A villain.” She repeated softly. There had been times in the past Carol had defended her. She hadn’t wanted Wanda left at the mercy of the mutants. But that was a different time before unforgivable transgressions. “Maybe, but it’s not that simple.” She had been villainous but that was over. This was the after. Taking Visions hand, Wanda nodded at Carol. “My husband is right. We have to focus on the boys. I’ll come back. I promise.” The last word was spoken quietly. She’d come back. Not Vision, not the boys. Just her. The twins had returned to town square, two children with expectant faces. Wanda would not let her last moments with her children be defending herself against Carol Danvers. Without waiting for permission, Wanda turned towards her home. “The barrier is falling. Westview is returning,” she called over her shoulder. “It will be right once more.”

MONICA: “Went in and got thrown out.” Monica confirmed. Carol was getting upset and she instantly tensed up to see if there would be conflict. When Sam intervened Monica exhaled. She was turning to respond to Daisy when she was approached from the other side. “Emperor Dorreck?” Of course she knew the Skrull leader. Space had always been a part of the Rambeau’s life. She excused herself to the side. “Yeah, of course. I’ll meet you as soon as we’re out of here.”

WANDA: It was the beginning of the end. No, not the beginning. The end had come five years before even though it felt like yesterday to a woman who hadn’t been around to live through it. The end had come the moment the Vision had died in Wakanda. His empty shell hitting the dirt heralded a new phase in her life and Wanda had tried her best to live in it. She socialized and tried to smile. Her tears were regulated to moments of privacy. Wanda had tried - she really had - but she couldn’t do it. She rewrote the story, added a chapter. There was no end then, only beginnings. Westview was real. Westview was hers. Westview had crumbled. People were flickering back to consciousness and red still sparked in the sky. It was her home that had never really been. A promise that had never been lived out. When the Vision had signed the deed and secured the land had he ever fathomed just how much Wanda would pervert it to keep it? The white android with his hands on her throat hadn’t remembered but Wanda always would. After months of games and manipulation she was quiet as she rested a hand on the twin’s backs. The elder version of the boys had long since departed. Not that she could blame them. They were all people for her to answer to but they had all the time in the world. The three souls who walked beside Wanda were pinned now into a finite box. She was going to lose them. They were never hers to lose. As Tommy and Billy obediently moved towards their house their mother took the hand of their father. It was silent except for their boots on the now cracked pavement and the quiet slapping of their capes. One day, there would be too much to unpack. Wanda felt a new thrumming in her chest and magic in her veins. The Scarlet Witch was more than just a name now, it was a point of being. She wore the mantle and the crown with a heavy head. The second their feet hit the threshold of the door the new costume faded away to more mundane clothing. A soft sweater, jeans. Some sneakers. Wanda felt stripped bare and the hardest part had yet to come. “Go get ready for bed, boys.” Her voice was hoarse as she tipped her head towards the stairs. When she looked back at Vision there was a plea in her eyes. The barrier was a soft static hush in the background as it inched closer. She couldn't do this. Not again.

VISION: They’d been moving at an immeasurable pace toward an end that he wasn’t entirely sure sealed much of anything at all. Time seemed slow and fast all at once, which led him to consider that it was merely a construct after all. A simple tool for humans to capture moments of life in numbered little bottles. Not that any of it mattered now — it did — but it could wait. If not for just for the moment: their moment. After all, that’s all life was, wasn’t it? A series of moments that molded bodies and souls all the same. Certainly Wanda and Vision had shared theirs. And while he spent most of their short time in Westview without the memories of their life prior to the Hex, he’d witnessed them within the precious past of a body that was never his to inhabit. And he felt that perhaps now, he understood her more than ever. He understood what they shared, but not what he was. He had all of this history that he couldn’t claim, children, a wife—love, yet once this world closed, this form of his being would cease along with it. What did that mean? What did it matter? Vision took her hand in his red palm and gently intertwined their fingers. They weren’t gone quite yet — he didn’t want her to mourn them before she’d truly lost them. He was determined to outshine the bitterness of what inched closer with the sweetness of what was still left. “Let’s say goodnight.” he said, and though his feet stayed on the ground, he felt himself floating up the stairs into their children’s room. For once he went to Tommy’s bed first, and sat at his feet. He watched Wanda with all the tenderness and normalcy that he could, hoping to leave her with something fond to remember them by. An ounce of reality in all the fiction.

WANDA: Goodnight and goodbye. It was with a bowed head and her heart in her throat that Wanda followed behind her husband up the familiar stairs to the boy’s room. The house hadn’t looked like that at first. It had expanded with her narrative to fit their new and extended family. Two boys at the top of the stairs, the heavy pounding of their footsteps heralding every new day. Her natural instinct would have been to move towards Tommy, but she settled instead by Billy. William, Vision had said. Billy, like Shakespeare. Wanda couldn’t say if she always planned to have twins. She knew Tommy the second he had started to grow in her stomach, but the joy in her husband's face had brought a new life to light inside of her. Smoothing back Billy’s hair, Wanda fumbled with unscripted words. “Snug as a bug. Big day today,” she patted the sheets around him. They were a family. This was the kind of evening that could have happened on any night but Wanda didn’t want to betray what she knew. They were kids. How could she tell them this was the story’s end? Looking to Vision, Wanda took a breath. “It was a big day. Your father and I are… very proud.” She exhaled. “But family is forever. We could never leave each other, even if we tried.” Had she not carried a part of Pietro around in her heart for years? He had always stayed near to her even as his bones turned to ash. “You know that, right?” As Tommy nodded and smiled across the room something inside Wanda fractured. She kissed Billy on the head before rising, trying to mentally document every scent and curl. They were hers even if they were never meant to be. Wanda would always be theirs. She and Vision met in the middle of the room, hands squeezing before she was kissing Tommy’s head. For all the messy parts of Wanda that there were, she had somehow managed to compile only the best of her and Vision into their children. This was her duty as a mother. Her tears were kept so far back she didn’t even have to blink them away as she playfully shook Tommy. Giving Vision his space to say goodbye, Wanda eventually drifted with lead coated feet towards the door. As she looked back the glow of the Hex began to coat the room. “--Boys?” Wanda tore her eyes away from their undoing and back to the boys in their bed. “Thank you for choosing me to be your mom.” Billy smiled, but Wanda knew he had some semblance of an idea even if he couldn’t read her mind specifically. The light flicked off and for a second it was so tempted to stop the Hex’s progression and create the blanket of the barrier again. The red haze was now tinting everything with its light and Wanda took one last look before closing the door on that chapter of her life.

VISION: He hated the idea of missing this, — the mundane nights spent in, tucking the boys to bed and retiring to themselves in front of the TV. He ached of not knowing what would come next for her and not being alongside her to share it. But most of all, he hated the idea of ceasing to be — even if he had no real claim to feel such a way. To have had so much, only to be greeted with a nothingness at the end of it...no promise of paradise, or rebirth. He supposed it was the most human thing he’d ever experienced. Vision let Wanda do most of the talking, trying his best to exist in the precious seconds that ticked by. He forced his gaze on his son rather than the claustrophobic barrier that rapidly closed in from the window. He ruffled Tommy’s hair and stood, forcing one food in front of the other. “Goodnight, Chaps.” prompted a resounding “Goodnight, Dad!” from the both of them and he held onto the warmth it blossomed in his artificial chest. They lingered in the doorway for as long as time would allow until eventually Vision found himself descending back downstairs, after his wife. He turned on a different lamp as she turned hers out, eager to see her face in the light rather than night vision. “Sorry. I read somewhere it’s bad luck to say goodbye in the dark.” He offered a soft smile at that.  

WANDA: Over time, Wanda had forgotten how to process. She lost the ability to move through the stages of grief and had nestled into denial as easily as if it were her second skin. Wanda lost and she lost and she lost. She ached, and for what? A moment of reprieve? She had those before the waves crashed back in and she was lost once again in the surf. It was wrong what she had done. After being coaxed through her memories by Agatha she knew that. It was wrong, but it was also the only time she had felt any semblance of right in years. The barrier was cutting its way through the town. She could feel it even if it was out of sight. Grass would grow yellow and wood would grow soft from moisture and lack of upkeep. Westview would return to its bitter self that she had first stumbled upon. Her dream had been their nightmares. The shiny veneer of Westview Wanda had painted wasn’t real. Her hand hovered over a family portrait. No one would remember it being taken. It was just filler anyway, an object in a house to keep up the illusion. No, not a house. Their house, even if it wasn’t this Vision who had so lovingly procured it for her so they could have a home. He would have done the same, Wanda liked to think, as the Vision had. He didn’t know the scope of her tragedy but he loved her. He looked for ways to brighten her life. No sooner than her lamp had clicked off did the one she had already turned off bloom back into light. Wanda couldn't help but start before she turned to see Vision standing by the lamp. “No,” a smile somehow found its way to her lips despite the situation. “You didn’t.”

VISION: He mirrored the soft sadness in her smile with his own. “No…no” he trailed, having grown comfortable in their shared silences...or maybe he just wanted time to stretch longer. “Perhaps not...perhaps I just wanted to see you..clearly.” He gazed at her softly. “And there you are.” He murmured more to himself than anything. She’d always been so beautiful — in more ways than just the high slopes of her cheek bones and the delicate look in her eyes when she allowed herself to be vulnerable. It was difficult to imagine he’d never see that face again...never do anything again.

WANDA: No one had seen her clearly in years. Pietro always had a sharp gaze that could cut through her vague indecision, but without him he had been adrift. The Vision had seen her, too. She felt the Stone that powered him and he looked at her with clear eyes. Dumnezeu, she had loved him. Past, present, future. Wanda knew now that he’d always exist in her breastbone, right alongside the after effects of the Mind Stone. Two ghosts, both shadows of their former selves but spurring her further nonetheless. There you are. It was heartbreak and love all wrapped up as one and reflected in Wanda’s smile. But the Hex was collapsing. She wasn’t the only one who could tell and she gripped his hand by the window. It was too soon. It was five years overdue, and yet, it was too soon. When he turned to her she found a way to tear her gaze from the sight of Westview shifting and locked her eyes on the flickering face of her husband in the red light.

VISION: “Wanda…” Vision started, suddenly feeling their world grow so much smaller as it crashed around them. Hungry scarlet swirls of the red barrier ebbed slowly around them in wait, allowing him to finish. He cast it only the briefest of glances before his gaze returned to his wife. “Before I go,” He begun softly “— I feel I must know… I want to know.....what am I?” Even as he felt himself ask, he wondered maybe it wasn’t his place to — or that it was even a question she could answer, but still he had to at least try. Closure was, in his opinion, often rather loaded. People wanted it, but weren’t prepared for whatever shape it came in. They had expectations, hopes for the way things would end...and often the reality of it was painful. And while he struggled to know if he was ready for closure now, he supposed it didn’t matter. It was never really his story. So maybe what he was really asking now, was for his writer to fit him with an honorable ending — whatever shape it took. He trusted her with that, even if the rest of westview and the world didn’t.

WANDA: This was her fault. All her fault, like so many other things. To her, it had never mattered what he was. He was hers and she was his. It was that simple. Couldn’t two people just be in love? Maybe, but not them. It wasn’t simple and in their case it wasn’t pure with Wanda’s interference. She had made him as she remembered him, but Vision was more than a memory. The Vision had many intricacies and complexities that could never be replicated. She had done the best she could but still had left hollow holes in her husband. It wasn’t fair to the Vision or Vision. “You, Vision,” her hand moved to caress his cheek. People heard synthezoid and assumed his flesh would be cold like metal but it was warm and real under her palm. “Are the piece of the Mind Stone that lives in me. You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope. But mostly, you’re my love.” His hand had fallen over her own at some point and Wanda finally lost the battle with her tears. She loved, she loved and she lost. This time had to be different because she had to accept it. She had look at him in the near darkness and remember just how all encompassing it felt to love and be loved by him in the days that would stretch out when he was gone.

VISION: He grounded himself in the warmth of her palm against his cheek, comforted by the melody of her voice — even with a vastness awaiting him the moment her lips stopped moving. It didn’t matter, he took those precious seconds to kiss her with all the tenderness he found even the complexities of 6,500 human language could not express. “I’ve been a voice with no body...a body but not human...and now…” he met her sad eyes “A memory. Made real.” He wanted so badly to leave her with hope, desperate not to let her drown in her own grief. “Who knows what I might be next.” What we might be. The barrier was closing in now and with it he found himself suddenly feeling the loss of time as if it were a loss of breath — he gently pulled her to him, placing his hand on her cheek in a delicate cradle. “We’ve said goodbye before...so it stands to reason…”

WANDA: Their kiss was bittersweet. It was the first hello of two beings who finally saw each other as they were and the last goodbye between tragic lovers. As a tear tracked down his cheek, Wanda caught it with her thumb. The moisture on her finger pad was real. Androids could cry. Perhaps not all, but hers was special. Vision had always been special and that would never change. To her it would be impossible for him to be reduced to just a memory. She would see him out of the corner of her eyes in the hall or hear a rustling and expect to see him phase through the wall. Scents would escape the kitchen and she would wonder for a second if it was him attempting a dish just because it would make her smile. Wanda had seen sides of the Vision no one else had. She had seen goofy and soft. He was the full spectrum of being, and his quiet steady nature even in the face of oblivion made her cry. She had never deserved him. Not really, at least. He was worthy to hold the hammer of Thor and Wanda -- she broke things, she threw fits and hurt people. From the moment she had sensed him in dreaming under Ultron’s watchful eye in the Cradle she had been doomed. Wanda felt love in her life but she never managed to hold onto it. It was a stream and the water always flowed right past her before her thirst was quenched. Vision was a memory made real, sure. But in Wanda’s mind he would always be real. We’ve said goodbye before, so it stands to reason... Wanda clutched either side of his head as her eyes frantically traced the lines of his face so she could memorize every one. “...That we’ll say hello again.” She was nodding quickly as the red raced through the town and finally made contact. The house began to fluctuate through all the variations that Wanda had forced upon it. The reality began to unwrite herself right in front of her eyes, but she was going to hold onto her husband until she couldn’t anymore.

VISION: The barrier came for them rapidly, then, and all he felt was her. Her hands on his face, her being somehow tethered to his as his body began to come apart much more gently than before. It wasn’t a ceasing to exist, merely a return home — a return to where he’d existed from the beginning: within her. It wasn’t painful, and it wasn’t something to fear anymore. So many more things he wished to say to her, seconds he’d ask for if they could. But they were out of time. “So long, my darling.” Until, hello.

WANDA: It didn’t end with a bang. It ended with a soft smile and the echo of a voice before its owner ceased to be. She felt him slowly fade out of her grasp until she was left clutching nothing but the air. The house -- their house -- had reverted back to a foundation that would never be built upon. Wanda wouldn’t sell but she could never live there either. Her happiness had lived and died within those fallen walls. Her heart was splintering in her chest. Clothed once more in the outfit she had worn when she arrived in Westview, Wanda slipped her hood up over her hair and ignored her car as she began her funeral procession of one back to town square. A promise was a promise, but Agatha’s words were heavy in her heart. There would always be pitchforks or women like them. Stepping into view, Wanda kept her head held high. “It’s over.”

SAM: His lips flattened into a tight line. “Jesus, Carol.” So much for a happy reunion. “Wanda fucked up -- bad. But she’s going to say goodbye to kids. Her kids. Give her ten.” He believed she’d come back, and she did. Defeated but present.

LORNA: Her sister had just turned and left with the family she had made. Lorna had a sinking feeling that Wanda would be the only one she saw again. “What can I say?” the words felt flat in her mouth. “I like to feel desired.” She turned to look at Remy then. He looked the same, if not ragged. It was hard to tell. Lorna felt like someone else all together -- which was fair, situation depending. “They let you in here?”

CAROL: Carol shot Sam a look, one that was one part confused and one part angry. She knew she struggled with the grey area, but rarely did her and Sam grate so blatantly. "That in comparison to torturing people for months. Sure." She was tired of the passes, but she'd relented and thrown her hands up. Once Wanda came back in to view, Carol didn't even make a move to approach her. Like Sam, Carol was tired too, but for an entirely different reason. "You did the right thing." She said, though there was no sense of sympathy in her tone. "The people of Westview are being extensively checked for neurological damage or magical after effects. They'll be lucky if they don't suffer from PTSD after this." she knew she wasn't making any friends here. Carol didn't care. But still, she shifted slightly so her body was turned towards Monica. "This is your case, Rambeau. By all means,"

REMY: "You know I have a habit of getting in even when I don't belong." He said passively. He was looking at her, but not really. He was exhausted, the feeling dragging him down over the past few weeks Lorna had been in here. He truly was spending most of their relationship losing her and it stung a little more every time. Still, "Are you okay?" it was a question said off to the side, because there was no way that conversation could happen now. He just had to ask.

WANDA: Two women forged by Infinity Stones. Carol and Wanda were powerful but in different ways. “They suffered.” She replied simply. “Extensively. And I’m sorry. I never meant to make my pain theirs as well.” That, at least, was true. It had not been her original intention but she had perpetuated willingly later on. “You’re not arresting me. But I’ll go with you willingly, Captain Rambeau. I owe you that much.”

MONICA: “Me?” Monica arched a brow. “Yeah, I’d say that’s fair.” Wanda had thrown her from town and caused Monica’s cells to metastasize. She had also used her powers to throw her around another time. Monica had felt Wanda’s pain first hand and was left with a detached pity. “Wanda Maximoff,” she began the formalities. “I’m Captain Monica Rambeau. I am officially bringing you into holding under the authority of S.W.O.R.D. I am not required to read you your rights as you register as a threat to the Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division and will be treated as such. Do you understand?”

LORNA: Normally she’d launch flirtatious barbs back with him, but Lorna just gestured around slowly. “Not really a desirable place to be. At his question her brow furrowed. “No. Not really, but I will be.” Insanity did run in the family. “I need to find my Father. We need to go to Krakoa.”

REMY: "Why do you think we're here?" he asked, though there wasn't much room for answering. "There's no reason we should stay now. There's a gate close by." it was a suggestion for them to leave now, to turn away from Lorna's sister being taken in by SWORD.

LORNA: “Maybe you’re a fan of the show,” her tone was sardonic at best. No reason to stay. No reason to watch Wanda hauled off. The two sisters had ever been closed but it rattled Lorna more than she wanted to admit. Her family didn’t handle grief. No member of the Monarchy of M seemed to be sane. They threw tantrums and raged. Would she have done the same as Wanda? Maybe, if Lorna loved anyone that much. Far more agreeable than usual, Lorna turned away from Wanda in the square.

WANDA: “I understand.” Wanda nodded. She could never give the citizen of Westview the last two months back but she could at least own up to her own shortcomings -- of which there were a multitude. As Wanda took a step towards Monica her clothing rippled. Magic was always present. If she was going to leave Westview it was with a shrivel of her dignity intact. The hood of her jacket had redesigned itself into a cloak, red fabric falling over bare shoulders. There would be time later to address Agatha and wrap up that plot line. “And I’m ready.”

PIETRO: Pietro arrived in time to see S.W.O.R.D. and F.B.I. swarming the area like bees in a frenzy. A boom snapped through the air as he slammed to a halt, feet ripping up chunks of pavement — Christ, he had to get better at that. Fixing his sleeve, Pietro stood up straight and rolled his shoulders some, shoving his snowy hair out of his face. “I’m gone five minutes and you already want to get yourself arrested.” he said, walking around from behind her. He cast a glance to the others — Monica, Carol, Sam — scattered agents all braced for anything. “Just like old times, ah?” They had a lot to talk about — but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see her. She had to have known it was coming even though he didn’t ask, he just lifted her off the ground and shot off with a sonic boom, leaving nothing but a breeze and a standstill in their wake as he put over a hundred miles between them and Westview in two seconds flat.

DAISY: Daisy was waiting patiently in the back for the potential of Wanda running off, although she wasn’t quite sure any of them besides Carol were prepared to be able to stop that sort of escape. Even if she did feel for Wanda’s situation, there were rules they had to follow. And rules she swore to uphold when she became an agent. She blinked in surprise when she saw Pietro run up, surprised at how fast he was. She knew he was a speedster from the files she’d read, but it was an entirely different thing to see it in person. And then before anyone could even say anything, there was a loud boom and just wind blowing by them and both Wanda and Pietro vanished into thin air. After a few beats of stunned silence, Daisy let out a sigh and shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Now S.W.O.R.D was going to have to look for both of the Maximoff twins after this whole mess. It was definitely a frustrating ending after being so close to getting Wanda to willingly come talk with them, and Daisy could feel a nagging irritation prickling under her skin as she shook her head. “I’m going to go help with those extractions.” She stated to Carol and Monica before turning and walking off back towards the direction of the base.

WANDA: This was the last thing she needed. Denial, anger, bargaining and now, after a painful breakthrough: acceptance. Wanda wasn’t resigned but renewed. They were mad and could have their moment. The energy from Darkhold whispered in her ear even though it was out of sight. Wanda was ready to face the stake they would inevitably try to force her to burn on, but then someone was making quips. The reverent air of a battleground that hadn’t completely found an ending was charged with a boom that rattled her teeth. Five minutes? It was five years and then some. Her eyes drifted closed. Wanda’s Westview was gone and her constructs with it. Everything left was real, but was he? This was a question she had turned over in her mind again and again. Acceptance. He was hers. He always had been. Agatha had laughed that he couldn’t be returned because his body had been left broken and isolated on foreign soil. Wrong and wrong. Vision and the boys had been tied to the town. It anchored their reality. Pietro was the exception. His accidental resurrection was tied to the one who had been half of his being. Pietro existed as Wanda did, their connection once again rekindled even though it was tainted red. There had been no reunion yet. Their interactions were tense and filled with a one sided disgust. Wanda had clung to an illusion because she was terrified of the fact that there was one thing she couldn’t replicate. This was real but Wanda did not deserve it. Not after what she had done. As her eyes fluttered open, Wanda’s lips parted. She was going to tell Carol it changed nothing, even though everything was different. She was culpable still. Instead her feet were pulled out from underneath her in the same disorienting blur that had once been familiar. Hair whipping around her face, Wanda’s hood had fallen off by the time he skidded to a stop. Blue and silver streaked the air behind him. The only thing new was the scarlet that threaded through the afterimage, the trail of magic that was still fresh on its mistress. The ground crunched underneath the wedged heels of her boots once contact was made. There was a cold wind but the heat of her magic still flushed her cheeks. “Pietro?” The word fell from her lips and hung in the air between them.  Where did she start? You’re back? I’m sorry? I need to go face my fate? Wanda just stood there and stood for a long moment. It didn’t matter that she was the Scarlet Witch, chaos bound in flesh. It didn’t matter how powerful she was. Right then she was ten years old and flat on her stomach as the Stark missile ticked away. She hadn’t known then it was her power stopping it from going off as probability twisted. Pietro was the one keeping them safe as he held her close. She had always assumed it would be him who filled that role but now she had years of experience and tragedy that had affixed itself to her being and turned her into the woman she had become. But that was for later. She could be strong and suffer in a silent dignity later. Right then she was closing the space between them until her arms were wrapped tightly around his chest and her head pressed over the spot where his heart beat a little too quickly. “Îmi pare rău, frate. Îmi pare așa, atât de rău. ( I'm sorry, brother. I'm so, so sorry. ) If Wanda kept her head down she wouldn’t have to look at his eyes and see if disdain still lived there. “I lost you.”

PIETRO: He’d thought about what he might say to her if she ever did finally speak to him again — without all the facade of Westview to deafen her ears from everything he said. He wondered if he’d hold on to his anger—but it had morphed. Mutating into a hurt he didn’t know how to place. That he could. He knew it wasn’t intentional, but that was the sad part...it...it didn’t matter. Crystalia didn’t want Wanda anywhere near their daughter and while he understood her reasons, that didn’t make the cut any shallower. He shared everything with her, as a being he very much considered an extension of hims own, it was difficult not to bring her into the life of his child. And so he was crossed between the boy that would sever his own limbs just to quell the quiver of Wanda’s lip, and the man that wanted to stand by his soon to be wife. Maybe he fueled that into the mad dash he did away from Westview, because he didn’t even realize how far he’d gone until he started to smell salt. It was different to run so long with her, but she’d always been a light load. Pietro finally stopped when he hit the west coastline—kicking up an array of sand as he slid with her. It was one of his more graceful stops, but that wasn’t saying much. He set her on her feet and for once kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to say—literally anything. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but as she fell into him he felt his world tip a little, back into place. His hands gently smoothed the curls of her unnaturally strawberry red hair and he wrapped both arms around her. “nN pentru totdeauna” not forever, he said. In the most predictable way, his anger melted away, but it did leave welts in the wake of its fire. Dor the first time in their lives he didn’t know where her head was at—and he’d never needed telepathy to do that. And though he could never hate her, and he could never want her out of his life, he didn’t know where that left them. And he silently dreaded the problems having wanda in their lives would inevitably cause with the mother of his child.

WANDA: She lost him, but she had found him. Wanda couldn’t put into words how much that meant. “And now I have so much to tell you but it’s not the time. I have to go back, Pietro. I need to face what I’ve done.” It was the right thing to do, after all. Wanda owed the people she hurt and had given Monica her word. Flicking her hood back on so it cast a shadow over his face, she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Goodbye, frate. We’ll be together again soon.”

MONICA: There was no reason for handcuffs when the woman they would shackle was a literal witch who could apparently teleport when she was in the mood to. Monica was immensely grateful for Wanda’s cooperation and had her own opinions on the matter. Wanda had been wrong. Her actions were more than just hurtful, they were dangerous. Monica knew that just as well as she knew that if she had been in Wanda’s shoes with her powers she would have done the same. It didn’t make her actions excusable or meant that Monica forgave her. She just had a throbbing sense of balanced justice instilled in her by her mother. Wanda would face the jury and it consistent of more than just Monica. But then, Pietro. Shit. He had been a little bit of a wild card ever since Wanda yeeted his kid and girlfriend (?) into the Hex. Now he was in a place to potentially cause an escalation with Wanda -- who had just returned and was compliant. “Maximoff,” Monica took a step forward and found herself blinking away grit that Quicksilver’s feet had kicked up. He was gone and Wanda had vanished with him. “Jesus.” Monica resisted the urge to turn and smack the solid army truck behind her. She could survive being shot but something told her that all she’d accomplish was becoming the owner of a broken hand. Nodding at Daisy, Monica made no move to follow her. Instead she turned to Carol, who had proven herself to be a powder keg consistently in danger of exploding. Had she always been like that? Monica couldn’t remember but childhood memories were faulty. They were blurred fact with fiction. Sam, at least, looked more stoic with his arms crossed over his chest. “--she’s coming back.” Monica pursed her lips. “Wanda was ready to go in, she was listening.”

REMY: "Haven't bothered to watch." His tone remained level as they started for the break in the wall. He had come prepared for a fight, but he was leaving with none, and he could feel the dissatisfaction even if he'd ultimately won in the end. It had been a tough few weeks and all his sitting had caught him in a loop with no outlet. "Your sister will be fine." He offered as the neared the edge. "We know people who have done far worse and are sitting on our country's council."

CAROL: Carol stared at the spot where Wanda had disappeared for too long, her eyes boring into the gravel of a city that had returned to its poorly maintained state. Though her features remained neutral, the tension in her shoulders was immense and all she wanted to do was strangle not one, but two Maximoff’s now. Forcing out a breath, Carol completely missed Daisy's comment and instead turned towards Monica. "I know." she acquiesced. "And yet here we are." Standing in the center of a town that had been pulled through the decades by magic, its citizens mind controlled and tortured, and the only person to blame was gone. "Maybe we should coordinate with Krakoa." she looked towards Sam, but it was nothing more than a passing glance. There was a lot to unpack there, but their personal lives could never cross into their professional. "As much as I'd love to argue with Frost that, although Wanda is a citizen a Krakoa and therefore untouchable, her mass mind manipulation of US citizens stands to reason she needs to face a trial. It's not a witch hunt," she said pointedly. "But Pietro did just implicate himself in this mess."

SAM: Maybe. Sam shifted before straightening up. “Last I heard, Wanda was pretty estranged. If we talk to anyone, it’s Magneto.” It was unlikely that the Master of Magnetism was going to be biased because it was his daughter. “But outside of Krakoa, Wanda isn’t a U.S. citizen either. There’s not a home country we can send her to for trial anymore.” That made her their problem. It was a little less messy internationally. “The guy was dead up until two months ago and hasn’t gotten to actually talk to her since. Guess we should have seen that coming.”

LORNA: What, could he not be bothered to tune into the home torture network to at least see that she was alive? Lorna just snorted, Westview now fading into the background. “Good for you. Hope Wanda gave me a new liver when she rewrote reality because all I’ve done recently is get wasted and make out with would be frat guys.” Which had never been her type. “Wanda is Wanda. She makes big messes and everyone finds a way to forgive her. She lays low and then the cycle repeats.” Not that Lorna could take another Decimation. The glow of the emergency gate that the mutants had situated by the barrier emitted a soft glow. “Like my father.”

REMY: Remy had avoided the broadcast because he hadn't been privy to watch, even if he knew he wouldn't have bothered given the chance. It was...a complicated mess of feeling, and he was still sorting through it. Lorna's words didn't help, but he didn't comment on them. He wanted out of Westview, he wanted to be back on Krakoa. They emerged together through the breach and he led her to where the mutants emerged originally - the closest gate back to Krakoa. "We can talk more once we're back." He wanted out of here. Away from the mess Wanda had formed. If he could, he would've rather pretend it never happened.

CAROL: "Guess we should've." Carol muttered, eyes flitting up to the sky and then back down again. "We can send a team in to do a clean sweep, gather up any evidence we may need. Otherwise, I think we need to get started on the citizens. Make sure everyone is okay." It wasn't necessarily their job to aid at this point, but Carol felt separated from victory, and she needed to do something. "Monica can make a call, I'm sure."

MONICA: She was not about to be in the middle of a lovers quarrel. It felt like she had been in her S.W.O.R.D. sweater and training pants for days. Her skin was sticky with sweat and the adrenaline had begun to wear off. Carol, Sam and Monica were some of the last remaining, three Captains who covered the spectrum in how angry they were. “Sam,” she turned towards Wilson. “We need a trauma evaluation. They’re not letting us do anything until after that.” It was just standard protocol. They’d need to find Wanda and the White Vision who had smashed through the town before vanishing. Agatha Harkness was still weak on the ground, stuck in stasis. They couldn’t restrain her. They needed Wanda and her fancy magic shapes for that. And, S.W.O.R.D. needed a director. It wouldn’t be Monica. She didn’t want it. That had been Maria’s job and her daughter didn’t want to squeeze into her shoes. She had always preferred walking beside her too much. It would be Abigail she talked to after Brand finished her counseling as well. S.W.O.R.D. would heal. Maria would never be back but her legacy would persevere. “We’re going to find Maximoff.” Monica sent a look to Carol as she began to take a few steps back. “She promised, and I’m big on holding people to their word.” She’d make her call. She’d do what she needed to, and at some point Monica would sleep. Westview was free. They were free. Why didn’t it feel like it?

#event: maximoff anomaly #maximoff anomaly: finale #momevents

[obscure-sentimentalist]

As the 15th marks five years since I dropped my first fic onto AO3 to begin my second personal era of fic-writing (after a multi-year hiatus), and I’ve had an interesting sort of writing productivity this 2020, I decided to celebrate by taking a look back at some of my favorite work over the years, in chronological order.

Dark enough to find myself (2015) was actually a final project for a lecture I was taking on fandom, but the concept was something I’d wanted to pursue (dabbling in an old favorite trope of mine--the “two characters, one person” crossover--this time in new fandoms). The time constraints meant I couldn’t broaden the idea as much as I wanted to at the time, and five years later there are a lot of things I would do differently were I to do a rewrite, but I do still love this one and hold a special place in my heart for it. 

False Faces Chapters 9 and 10 (2017) are, obviously, fairly deep in the narrative and mark a critical turning point, but they are the two modern chapters I’d put out of this piece, launched back in 2011. I’d originally intended to just clean up Chapter 9 (which had been mostly complete on my hard drive for over five years) and release it to give myself some closure, but after I spent an evening doing some heavy reworking, I found that I still had some heart left in the project, even with how the writing and my interests had evolved. I’m still proud of these two chapters, having executed a key plot point in a way I didn’t feel I could years earlier.

Things Will Turn Out Fine (2018) is for a fandom I no longer particularly dabble in, was inspired by the ending of another show that still drives me up the wall, and was mostly written in the middle of the night after a long week of work, but I still feel this is one of my most understated pieces. It resonated with an audience on here at the time, which led my love for it to grow, and I still think it’s one of my most emotional shippier pieces.

Old enough to know (we’re never letting go) (2019) is... frankly, it’s either my masterpiece, or it’s the first in a line of masterpieces that sparked in some way from this work. Still working in my familiar crossover playing field, I decided to give a different trope a shot and build a story of brotherhood (both in blood and found family--it makes sense in context) from scratch, and eventually spin into a cathartic journey of grief and acceptance (but still with a hopeful ending). The final sequence of Part III, “February 2019,” is one of my absolute favorite things I’ve ever written for the emotional charge of it, and is the piece over which I’ve had many people yell at me, to my delight.

Colors appear (and bleed into one) (2020) is a compilation of Tumblr ficlets, but as someone who largely writes Gen fic, I’ve had some fun dabbling in soft, fluffy shippiness with a pairing I’ve long adored. If I had to call out any favorites, I love pretty much all of the one-off ficlets I’ve written for this collection, and I do have a soft spot for the partnered pieces of “Shirt and Sweet” and “Roped Into.”

A very honorable mention has to go to my beloved work in progress (however it comes to fruition), Distortion. Somewhere around half of the words I’ve written this year have been for this project, which evolved far beyond the inkling of an idea I’d brewed up a year ago and has acquired its own blown-out timeline and playlist and so much more. I would love to share this work someday in some form. 

#obscure-sentimentalist writes sometimes #obscure-sentimentalist rambles #em gets emotional on a Saturday evening

[pyroandtheprincess]

Chapter 2 of My “Alternative” Fairy Tail Ending

Alright, alright. I’m continuing my “alternative ending” story for Fairy Tail. It’s something I put a lot of thought into years ago when I had written that first chapter. Everyone was wondering how Fairy Tail might come to an end at that time, and this plot still creeps into my thoughts ever so often, so I’m gonna put it in writing.

I’m beyond flattered that people already like the story! If you are a fan, help me out... do I title it? What are the next steps, lmao I’m new at this. For those of you who take the time, thank you so very much for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Peace and blessings my dudes, here is chapter two.

—————————-

Chapter 2:

An hour earlier....

Lucy sits on her knees, choking out sobs in the middle of an abandoned street in the once lively Magnolia. Happy is clutching her chest, crying his eyes out. The poor Exceed is shaking like a leaf and Lucy’s hand is laid on top of his head holding him tight.

She is in agony. Sure, she is physically spent, aching from having been exposed to Zeref’s magic, but trying to grasp that she wasn’t able to protect her best friend, that she couldn’t save him from his fate, is beyond devastating. It’s excruciatingly painful. Natsu Dragneel, the man who brought her to Fairy Tail, her home, was gone.

And it was all her fault.

“He was just here.” Lucy murmurs almost silently as she puts her head in her hands. He was just right there in front of her, looking worse for wear, but he was there. And he was smiling, Mavis, his smile made her so warm and so, so relieved. She actually had the audacity to let herself feel proud. She’d thought she made a difference. She really believed she had been able to rewrite the book and keep him safe. And then in an instant, he was just ripped away, gone like he had never been here in the first place.

This doesn’t make sense, none of it. The more she thinks about it the more confusing it becomes.

How could this be? She knows she wrote down every single memory she had of him correctly and she knows for damn sure she changed the books ending... how could it not have worked?

Maybe she’s just in denial, she is grieving after all, and that is the first step, but she wasn’t buying it. Nope, nuh-uh, no way. Natsu had left her once, there was no way he was leaving her alone again, at least not without another stupid excuse for a “good-bye” note. She just has this gut feeling she can’t explain. He’s alive somewhere, she can feel it, and she’s choosing to believe that instinct. Plus, the refusal to accept he is gone forever is going to keep her from spiraling right now. She needs the truth, she wants the evidence he is really gone… or any sort of clue that might lead her to him again. And, to do that, she needs to get to the guild. That’s where Zeref and him had fought, there was bound to be something there.

However, there is a glaring problem, literally. To her right sits Gray Fullbuster with the sternest face she has ever seen him dawn. It’s as if he has skipped denial and gone straight into the anger stage of grief. His eyes are so sad and yet so livid. They are clouded with hurt, and with the amount of people he has lost in his life, who can blame him. Especially, when all of these deaths could be tally’s under Zeref’s name, Natsu’s disappearance being yet another.

There is no way Gray is going to let her go to the guild, not now. He’d say it was crazy for her to do so, that they have other things to focus on. The dark wizard was gone, but there was still Achnologia. They couldn’t waste anytime. And just as she is thinking this, he speaks up.

“I know it’s hard, but we have to keep moving. We have to find the others.” He is slowly moving to stand as he continues, “We need to stay focused. Acnologia is still alive and we need to defeat him.”

He looks at Lucy, but he can’t meet her eyes fully as he clenches his fists, “Natsu… Natsu would want us to keep fighting, for Fairy Tail’s sake.”

At the mention of Natsu’s name the blue exceed slowly looks to Gray, and then to Lucy. His little nose is running and his eyes are still leaking, but he finds his voice, “He is right, Lucy.” Happy sniffles,“W-we n-need… w-we need to save everyone!” His voice cracks and he buries his face in Lucy’s chest again, and she squeezes him to her, “For Natsu!”

She knows. She knows that they need to stay focused. She knows that taking down Acnologia is their main priority right now. But, she just can’t do it. She just can’t focus until she knows exactly what has happened to her best friend. She just needs to know the truth, and her gut is saying he is alive. And if he’s alive, getting to him is her main priority.

A plan is slowly formulating in Lucy’s head, it’s not great, but she thinks it could work. Wasting no more time, she starts putting it in action.

“Happy,” Lucy gurgles out, trying to sound as sick as possible. She starts to peel Happy off of her and he looks up with concern.

“L-Lucy, you don’t look so good.” He says, helping himself off her lap.

“I just- I just need…” She pauses for effect as she moves to stand, “Some air.”

Wobbling in place for a second, Lucy clutches her stomach and holds one hand over her mouth.

“Lucy are you okay-“ she puts up one hand to stop Gray from continuing and holds the other over her mouth as she quickly hobbles behind the nearest of the buildings surrounding them. As soon as she is out of sight, she is scrambling for her keys.

“Open the gate of the twins, Gemini!” Lucy frantically whispers, she knows she doesn’t have a lot of time before Happy and Gray come to check on her. This is her only chance.

“Piri-piri!” Gemini exclaims as the smoke clears and another version of Lucy appears.

“Shhhhh!” Lucy chides, “Please, we need to stay quiet.”

“Lucy,” Gemini reply in a hushed tone, “We in the spirit world we’re getting worried. We could sense you were very upset about something and we were about to send someone to check on you.”

“I’m grateful for all of your concerns, but I really need to you to do me this favor.” She holds on to the copy of herself' shoulders, “Please, I need you to pretend to be me. Copy my outfit, my entire appearance, and join Gray and Happy. Natsu is… missing. I need to go to the guild and see if I can find any clues on how to find him. Can you do that? Just while I figure things out. We- I need to know what happened to him.”

“Of course Lucy!” A bright light engulfs Gemini and when it subsides, the replication of herself is complete, tear stained cheeks and all.

“Thank you,” Lucy sighs, relieved, “I owe you big time. Just stay quiet and nod along, Gray and Happy-“

“Lucy...”

“Lucy are you okay?!”

“Are closing in, I need to get moving.” Lucy quickly stands and scans around where she can hide. She spots a few barrels further down the alley, perfect. “Again, thank you.” She dashes, and quickly ducks down just in time for Gray and Happy to turn the corner.

“Lucy,” Gray crouches down to be eye level with Gemini Lucy, “we need to get going. I know it’s hard, but he have to.” Gray extends his hand.

Happy climbs into Gemini Lucy’s lap and hugs her tightly around her midsection, “We need to s-stay strong, l-like Natsu would want.” He sniffles, voice wavering.

From behind the barrels, Lucy sucks in a breath as a twinge of guilt pulls on Lucy’s heart strings. As much as it hurts to leave Happy behind, she can’t drag him through the search and get his hopes up... not with the potential for a negative outcome. The blue cat would never recover.

Gemini Lucy holds Happy tightly to herself and then takes Gray’s hand. She nods at him and he helps her off the ground.

After they have sauntered far enough away, Lucy stands from her hideout and immediately starts sprinting toward the guild.

“Open the gate of the Lion! Loke!” She pants out.

The gate opens and Loke is there running alongside her.

“Lucy, you’ve had us worried sick!”

“Natsu vanished.”

“What?!”

“No time to explain!” They turn the corner and there stands Fairy Tail, or what’s left of Fairy Tail, “We need to get to the guild. I need you to help me search for clues.”

They sprint through the entrance of the guild, which is now just a massive hole, and Lucy is immediately scanning the room. Her eyes are everywhere, looking for anything substantial.

Loke whistles in disbelief, “Wow, this place took a beating. ”

“Well, this is where Natsu and Zeref battled after all.”

It’s silent for a few beats, only the sounds of Lucy rustling through the wreckage can be heard until Loke speaks up.

“Natsu fought Zeref? And he is…missing?” The gears in Loke’s head start turning, “Wait… is Natsu… is he-“

“Hey!” Lucy snaps, her bangs casting a shadow across her face. She halts her movements for a moment to collect herself. She feels badly for her tone, but she doesn’t want to hear the end of Loke’s thought.

“Enough with the questions we need to-“ she struggles turning over a heavy boulder, “focus.”

“Lucy,” Loke starts again slowly, “what are we doing here?”

“I already told you, we are looking for clues.”

“Lucy, we can’t… we shouldn’t be here-“

“Loke…”

“He wouldn’t want this-“

“LOKE!” Lucy yells stand up and turning to face him, fresh tears springing from her eyes. “Please…” a sob racks through her, “just help me... help me look for clues.”

Loke steps forward and takes her shoulders in his hands, “But, what about the war! Lucy, he wouldn’t want this. He would want us to keep fighting... for Fairy Tail.” His grip tightens at the mention of the guild.

Lucy can’t meet his gaze, “Please, stop talking about him in the past tense. He is still here, he is still alive. He wouldn’t leave again…”

Loke looks down at her sympathetically, “Oh Lucy…”

Lucy looks up at him with pleading eyes, “I tried! I tried so hard to save him… he was right in front of me! I saw him! He was there!”

She pushes away from him, “I love him! He can’t just leave me again, he wouldn’t-“

Lucy gasps covering her mouth. Oh Mavis. That feeling she has repressed for so long, that’s been eating away at her heart and mind, is now out in the world. She’s never said it out loud. She, Lucy Heartfilia, is in love with Natsu Dragneel. Her best friend. It’s a fact that she has tried to convince herself is fiction for years. Too afraid of her overwhelming feelings for him to take action at risk of losing their bond.

Just as she gains the courage to glance up at the very shocked celestial spirit’s face, she sees something glistening brightly out of the corner of her eye. Loke seems to see it too because they both simultaneously turn and look at the object.

A feeling, a dark, familiar feeling, begins to bubble in Lucy’s stomach and she slowly starts to move toward the object. It’s like it’s calling out to her. She almost hears it saying her name. The closer she gets the more urgency she feels to hold it. She can vaguely hear Loke calling out worriedly to her, but it’s like this thing has her in a trance.

‘An amulet?’ She thinks to herself briefly as she bends to pick it up.

“Lucy…” she vividly hears the voice coming from the shining necklace now, “I can help you. I know where he is. I’ll take you there, but you must trust me and stay calm.”

She is about to question the mysterious voice’s integrity, but as soon as she is standing with it in her palm, magic power surges through her. It’s like a massive wave washing her out to sea. It’s so overwhelming, she lets out a shriek as the glistening light starts to consume her.

“LUCY!” Loke screams, sprinting toward Lucy trying to take hold of her only to have his hand pass right through her left arm.

She turns back to look at him in horror as she feels herself being absorbed by the light. She closes her eyes attempting to calm herself. This is her only lead and her gut is telling her to listen, “Loke... Go find the others. Tell them I'll get Natsu home.”

“What?! No! Lucy!” All he can do is watch as his contractor slowly fades away, leaving nothing but an ancient looking amulet rattling on the ground in her place.

#nalu #fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #ft #fairy tail nalu #ft spoilers #alternate ending

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 22

LISTEN TO ME — 0022

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 2.2K

"Can we talk?" — Chaerin asked after a few moments of silence, waking Jisung from his trance state.

"We have nothing to talk about," — he was harsh and, as much as he wanted to close the door on the girl's face, it was as if an invisible force was still neutralizing all his actions. His mind didn't want to hear him; his heart, however, acted in an opposite way and gradually accelerated the beats.

"I know you don't wanna hear me, but give me only five minutes," — Chaerin pleaded. — "Please."

Jisung wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, curse his ex-fiancée of the worst possible names, cry until his throat was dry, because all the little bricks he had tried to pry in the last few weeks were crumbling to the floor. It was as if he had gone back to zero again, the pain was the same.

"What do you want to talk?!" — he cried, opening the door. — "You came to laugh at me and invite me to your wedding with Seungmin?!"

"Jisung-..."

"I hate you!" — the rational part of Jisung shouted for him to control himself and not explode as he was doing, expressing how weak he was, but his impulses were so strong that he couldn't disobey them. — "Did you have to end things like that?! I deserved a fucking explanation!"

The girl closed her eyes and lowered her head. It was evident how embarrassed she was. She couldn't think of what to say, since she was the only one wrong in the story and what she had done had no right of forgiveness. Her biggest desire was to be able to go back in time and rewrite the plot in a different way, starting with not getting into Jisung's life, who had every reason to say that he hated her. Chaerin would hate herself too if she were in his place.

"I drank too much that day," — she murmured, not brave enough to look at him properly. — "The alcohol was still acting and didn't let me think straight, it was all so fast... I'm so sorry, Jisung."

"No, you're not sorry, you selfish! And to think I've been worried all day thinking that something bad has happened, and you drinking with that-..." — he interrupted himself, tending to calm down again. Dropping his temper on Seungmin and lamenting his frustrations for Chaerin would only make him feel more pathetic, so he turned away and turned his back on his ex-fiancée. — "You've made your choice, now get out of my house."

Chaerin sighed. Somehow, she already knew she wouldn't have the opportunity to speak even a third of what she should, but it wasn't as if she were in a position to refute.

"I just hope you can forgive me someday," — she said regretfully, and took one last look at Jisung's back before heading toward the exit. However, as she was passing the electronic gate, she heard Han's voice call her name and turned to face him.

"I even wanted to, but the truth is I don't hate you," — Jisung began. — "And hurt is one of the worst feelings of all, because it destroys the person gradually, and I won't self-destruct for someone like you. So, yes, I forgive you" — he watched the other's eyes widened. — "But I don't want to think that you exist or have ever existed in my life. Just be happy and also forget me, it's the last favor I ask of you."

Chaerin nodded, feeling the weight on her shoulders lighter. She had always admired Jisung, but, at that moment, she could say with a hundred percent certainty that he was one of the most incredible people she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. In addition, she also hoped that he'd find in another person the true happiness that she wasn't able to provide him, she just didn't know that this same person was much closer than she could imagine.

♡˖°

Jisung closed the door and collapsed.

His body slid through the cold wood and reached the ground; soon, his arms wrapped around his knees and he began to cry. The sobs filled the whole house, which never seemed so big as that morning. He felt alone, lost, exhausted. He wanted something he could hold onto, but his hands were tired of always clinging to nothingness.

Jisung, more than ever, needed someone. He even thought about going back to the house Hyunjin and Yoorim shared and continue to cry, but he felt that he had already bothered them too much and didn't want to become a burden, even though the couple would never have imagined anything like it. He also thought about looking for Woojin, but Kim wasn't the best person in the world when it came to comforting someone, because he ended up laughing nervously and letting out a "you're fucked, man", in the end. Besides, all this hesitation about the three was due to the fact that both Hyunjin, Yoorim, and Woojin were all about second, third, and fourth choices, for the true voice that Jisung wanted to hear — the one that calmed him like chamomile tea — was another.

It was unfair to wet Jinah's shoulder — who, if Hyunjin's assumptions were right, was nourishing a crush for him — with the tears coming from the cursed unrequited love he felt for Chaerin. Jisung figured that would be a bit uncomfortable for her, but, instead, Choi had never shown any unwillingness to hear him talk about it, on the contrary. There was also the fact that the two became friends above all else; so, maybe it wouldn't be so much trouble for Jisung to pick up his phone and click on her contact.

It was enough to call three times until Jinah's soft voice touched his ears as if she were caressing: — "Do you miss me already?"

Jisung almost smiled, but a choking sob was quicker to escape his lips, which made Choi worried.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" — she asked in an agonized way.

"Can you come here, in my house?" — Jisung answered with another question, his voice like a faint line. — "Just a little?"

"I'm on my way." —, the boy could hear the sound of keys on the other side of the phone. — "Calm down, please."

Thanking in a murmur, the boy hung up his phone and struggled to wipe his wet face without letting any more tears fall and nullify his attempt. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and waited, trying not to think of anything that would bring his crying back, but he could be sure that his eyes were red. He was only getting up when he heard the bell, that after about ten minutes in absolute silence except for the sound of his breath.

As soon as she stared at Jisung, Jinah could almost feel his pain. She parted her lips to ask what had happened the second time, but it was clear that Han needed more of a hug than of inquiries, so she didn't wait another second to put her arms around him.

Jisung felt the scent of peach and pear Jinah had and rested his forehead against her shoulder. The tears now came out silently, calmer and near the end. Choi's affection on his back relaxed his muscles and made him feel lighter, as if the burden of feeling was no longer so heavy and impossible to carry.

"I'm worried," — the girl whispered after a few minutes in that same position, and Jisung, being calmer just by being close to the presence of others, lifted his face and pulled her to sit on the couch.

"Chaerin was here just now."

"How was it?" — after the conversation she had with Kwon, Jinah didn't believe she had disturbed Jisung just to say something she shouldn't. She was supposing that all that crying was the result of another relapse, not for some foolishness the girl might have said.

"She tried to explain herself, but I didn't want to hear" — Jisung shrugged, not caring about the order of the parcels, given that the product was the same. — "Then she sort of apologized and I forgave."

"Really?" — Jinah smiled slightly. — "That was very nice of you."

"I didn't want to be holding a grudge against a grudge. May she be happy; wish for bad things now won't harm anyone but myself."

"I think I'm going to explode with pride" — Jinah's smile widened. — "Does that mean you're willing to leave the past in the past?"

"I never said I wasn't" — Jinah's smile ended up making Jisung smile too, though in a more timid manner. — "But it still hurts a lot, I can't guarantee it'll be that easy."

"You'll get it, but first you have to cheer up. Does a chocolate cake fix things for now?"

"I don't feel like leaving the house now."

"And who said you're going to need to leave?" — Jinah raised an eyebrow. — "If the ingredients are in the kitchen, I make a better cake than a french chef."

"After you said that you weren't afraid of horror movies, I don't believe in anything else that comes out of your mouth."

It was one thing to make her watch those scenes that looked more like real manifestations of Satan himself, another thing was to doubt her culinary talents.

"You're offending me" — Jinah looked at Jisung as if she wanted to kill him. — "Talk about me, but don't talk about the chocolate cake my mom taught me to do."

That's why Han liked Choi's company. Seeing her nervous, for example, awakened in him an absurd will to squeeze her. She was so cute it hurt. His problems seemed to lose importance. Suddenly, the little bricks he thought he had knocked over were erected again. After all, being close to Jinah, Jisung didn't feel as lonely as before.

"It's the last time I let you prove anything," — he said as he stood up and started walking toward the kitchen. — "Come, let's make this cake together."

♡˖°

"I warned you," — Jinah sneered when Jisung praised her cake for the second time. The boy had helped, but almost seventy percent of the preparation was Choi's work, who, by the way, was really good at cooking. — "This is for you to learn not to underestimate me."

"I already apologized" — Jisung set his plate aside, satisfied. While they were talking, more than half of the cake had been consumed. The good thing about all this was that Han no longer remembered the episode earlier. Jinah had managed to distract him and make him think of good things again. — "Do you want me to apologize on my knees?"

"That would be fine" — Choi checked the hours on her phone and got to her feet —, "but I have to go. Today is my day to clean the apartment."

"On sunday?"

"Since when do you have a right day to be a slave?"

Jisung laughed: — "Drama Queen."

Though he didn't want her to leave, Han accompanied the girl to the door and stuffed his hands into his pockets as they looked at each other at the farewell hour.

"Thanks for coming here and cheering me up, JinJin" — he moistened his lips in an involuntary act that didn't go unnoticed by the girl. — "I feel much better now."

Jinah watched the boy's face carefully, lingering on the chubby cheeks, eyes that were no longer red, and in his mouth. Again that damn urge to kiss him. Jinah would go into a malfunction if she continued like this.

"I feel even better to know that," — she averted her gaze, not making it too clear how silly she was near the inexplicable beauty Han carried. — "If you need company again, just call me. You know you can do this anytime."

"I know" — and Jisung began to observe the details of others as well. Again.

They were surrounded by a synchrony that had never been so strongly present as it was then. Proximity also counted as a factor, since only two steps separated their bodies. The good and old chemistry was finally taking shape.

"Um..." — Jisung tried to say something that would break that tension, but, before he could utter some messy sentence, Jinah, who could no longer control her own impulses, put both hands on the boy's face and connected their lips suddenly.

Choi finally noticed a few seconds later. The texture of Han's lips was soft and wet, just as she had imagined; but, as much as he wanted to feel it for the rest of the afternoon, the voice of her conscience gave a sharp cry inside her head and made her wake up to reality. Jinah's eyes widened and she moved quickly away, finding the same frightened expression on the other's face.

"My God, I'm sorry!" — she covered her mouth with her hands, blushing like a pepper. — "It wasn't intentional — it was — I was out of my mind!"

Jisung was in a trance for the second time that day. He had also flushed, but his frozen mind couldn't handle the event at its usual speed, so he couldn't even call Jinah when she, utterly embarrassed, rushed out of sight.

There were many emotions for a single sunday.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids fics #skz fics #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan #woojin #minho edit #changbin #hyunjin #han #jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin #kpop #kpop au

[elsaclack]

2019 writing meme

bc why not

i was tagged by @startofamoment and @disruptedvice!!! thanks guys i appreciate it lmao

things i’m for sure going to write:

the remaining six chapters of the royalty au i started in november of last year!! all of which have been outlined!!! and i’ll post a snippet of what i have written of chapter 5 below the cut!!

the remaining peraltiago kiss prompts in my inbox

the remaining starmora kiss prompt in my inbox

rewriting the enemies to friends to lovers in one night at a wedding oneshot that i stupidly forgot to cross-post before i deleted the original elsaclack

a groundhog day soulmate au wherein two soulmates relive the same day over and over and over again until they fall in love

things i’m very likely going to write:

a soulmate au in which a person’s soulmate appears to them 5 times throughout their life before they meet and helps them make 5 major life decisions that leads them both to their first irl meeting

an organized crime au wherein jake and amy are both independent con artists whose paths consistently cross, giving way to an extremely competitive (and flirty) kind of co-existence. at least that’s how jake sees it, up until he screws amy out of a $100,000 score - that’s when he finds out amy isn’t an independent con artist, but rather a worker bee for an extremely pissed-off mob boss who now wants them both dead. featuring a tech-savvy (and weapons-savvy) rosa and hitman charles

a set it up au wherein jake is on desk duty working as holt’s assistant for the foreseeable future and amy is kevin’s TA

a sound of music au that includes SEVEN of the peraltiago babies flying around fanon lmao

things i’d like to write at some point:

the proposal au that has literally been like 2-3 years in the making

a blatant and full-fledged hunger games au

ANYWAYS i also have like 342983649278 half-written and abandoned one-off wips in my docs that i might borrow from or finish at some point or another but i’m trying to not set myself up for failure by adding them to this list lmao. i’ll grab a few snippets from some of those just to throw them out there in the universe as an apology for being so inactive lately!!

i’m not sure who all has been tagged yet so forgive me if you’ve been tagged: @philtstone @johnny-and-dora @taxicabsandcupcakes @the-pontiac-bandit @johnnydora @snlsamberg @bklyn-ninenine and @proofthatihaveaheart!!!

no pressure tho obviously like please feel free to ignore!!!

ANYWAYS!!!!!

******ALL OF THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE BEFORE PUBLISHING (WHERE APPLICABLE LMAO)******

you’re a king and i’m a lionheart ch. 5 preview:

It’s been precisely three weeks and five days since that secret, blessed afternoon in the library with Amy, and each day that has passed has been another stone tied around his ankles. He looks up for the first time since sitting down some twenty minutes earlier - she’s grimacing at him through the mirror, a deep valley of concern creasing the space between her brows, and as he shoots her a grimace of his own she catches her lower lip between her teeth and sets about nibbling. “It sucks,” she finally says.

“Well, yeah,” he leans back in his seat, until his shoulders brush against the warm, soft plane of her stomach, hidden beneath her uniform. “Most of this shit does.”

She grimaces again and reaches up, hands sliding over his shoulders to gently squeeze. “I wish I could say it’ll be over soon, but…”

“We both know it’d be a lie.”

“I may have a silver lining,” she kneads the pads of her thumbs into the knotted sinews of muscle lining his shoulder and his head drops forward automatically. “I’ll be there through the whole thing and I can probably get you out early.”

He groans appreciatively - both at her reminder and at the perfect warmth and pressure she’s applying to his shoulders and neck. “You’re an angel, you know?”

She huffs out a quiet laugh above him - and it’s the first time he’s heard it here, between the two of them, in a long time.

Three weeks and five days, to be exact.

a random neighbors au:

“So,” he says as he wriggles his key into the lock on his mailbox. From the corner of his eye he sees her head turned toward him, frozen in the act of rifling through her mail. “Are you a magician?”

He turns toward her to find her staring at him like he’s just beamed down from outer space, and for half a second he almost bails. Her brow is furrowed and the corners of her mouth are pulled down. “What?” she asks.

“Are you a magician?” he repeats. He waits until she’s blinked twice, before adding “‘cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

The silence that follows rings just long enough for him to regret approximately eighty-seven percent of his collective life choices. She arches a brow and turns a little more fully toward him, but otherwise remains motionless until he forces himself to swallow thickly.

“That’s what you’re gonna go with?” she finally asks, and even though the vast majority of her demeanor is now overflowing with derision, he’s certain there’s a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Of all the cheesy pickup lines in the world, you’re going with...magician. You can’t honestly tell me you thought that would work.”

He can feel his face flooding with heat, embarrassment like static prickling up his spine to the back of his neck. She’s still staring at him expectantly, her mail now apparently forgotten as she lowers her hands to her hips, and when he tries to swallow it’s like the Sahara in his throat. “Uh,” he coughs a bit awkwardly, letting his keys hang from the lock so he can properly rub the back of his neck. “I just thought - since we’re the only ones in here -”

“No, I got that part,” she interrupts, a smile beginning to form in the curves of her face. “That was the only slightly redeemable part of...whatever that was supposed to be. But tacking it on to calling me a magician is definitely not achieving what you’re trying to achieve here.”

A brief, nervous laugh escapes his chest on an exhale, and this woman is still staring at him - though her amusement is far more pronounced now. In fact, he’d go so far as to say she looks mirthful in the way she appraises him from head to toe. “That definitely wasn’t my best,” he admits, reaching up for his keys, pleased to find his hands steadier than he expected them to be. “Can I get a do-over? And...maybe your number, while I’m at it?”

Her answering laugh is bright and loud and it simmers in his veins; it seems to catch her off-guard as it does him. She shakes her head and lifts her mail to her chest again, almost like she’s trying to put a barrier between them. “That was a little better,” she admits through a smile, “but still not great. Do any of those ever work for you?”

“Sometimes,” he nods, finally getting his mailbox door open just to find two overdue bills and a copy of Busty Ladies magazine inside. He stares for a beat, and then closes the door. “No mail for the falcon today.” he says cheerfully.

“The falcon?” she repeats - and all the derision from before is back.

“Oh, yeah, my - my gym buddies call me ‘the falcon,’ y’know, ‘cause - ‘cause I’m so badass.”

She stares, mouth just slightly agape, and he regrets ninety-three percent of his collective life-choices. “Wow,” she finally manages, backing a pace toward the door, and then another. “Well, uh, it was...interesting meeting you, Mr. The Falcon.”

He laughs, and she grins, and then she’s backing away earnestly and he’s left with the feeling of grasping at straws. “Ja- uh, it’s actually Jacob.”

“Jacob.” she repeats.

And he panics. “I don’t know why I said that, no one actually calls me Jacob. I mean, it’s my real name, it’s my - my full name, or proper name, or whatever. But my mom is the only one who calls me that and she only does it when I’m in trouble.” She’s almost to the doorway now, looking at him the way he suspects she looks at people who try to corner her in bodegas to passionately warn her of a looming apocalypse, and she’s about to disappear. “It’s Jake.”

She pauses just beside the doorway, head cocked just slightly to the left, and unreadable expression on her face. “Hi, Jake. You’re really weird.”

the hunger games au:

“What do you mean?” Jake asks. Santiago shifts, eyes darting to the right toward the end of the table, suddenly looking like a cornered animal. “Your game ended four years ago -”

She makes a noise, a loud “tch” sound between her teeth, and he falls silent. “I left the arena four years ago,” she says slowly. She’s still gripping her empty glass tightly, like it’s the only solid thing in the room. “But I’m still playing the games. The games are never over. They drag you back every year so you have a front row seat, they make you...talk to people,” she seems to have a hard time forcing the words out of her throat, which strikes Jake as a very Diaz-like thing to do. “It’s just...it’s never over. Never.”

The train passes into a tunnel, and suddenly the entire dining cart is thrown into an eerie, rapidly flashing orange light. The shadows cross Santiago’s face quickly, and she suddenly seems much older than she did before. She leans forward across the table toward him, and when her mouth opens, he catches the slightest smell of whiskey on her breath.

“Trust me, Peralta,” she whispers. “There’s only one loser in the games. And that’s the last one standing. The games only end when you do.”

“I don’t want to die.” he says, in a voice that is not his own, too dark and tense and quiet. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to...how, how do I...please, Santiago,” he finishes in a whisper, “help me.”

The tunnel ends, and the cart is once again bathed in the soft yellow light from the lamp on the side table behind her. He sees her swallow thickly, her fingers bone white for how hard they’re curled around her glass. She chews the inside of her cheek and casts a glance out the window toward that cluster of glittering lights in the distance growing steadily closer, before she returns to his face. “I-I can’t -” she rasps, pauses, clears her throat, and starts again. “I can’t...guarantee anything. You know that, don’t you? There’s nothing guaranteed about any of this, okay?”

His fingers and toes are numb and his heart feels like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings against his breast as he nods. He grips the edges of the nearest plate and pulls it closer, until the edge digs into his chest.

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll help you.” Her right hand drifts to the deep divot in the tabletop from where Rosa’s knife had landed hours earlier, fingertips tracing and catching on the scar.

His chest quakes with a shaky exhale. Relief floods through his veins, hot and strong, and his whole body sags in heedy relief. “Thank you, God, thank you Santiago -”

She taps the bottom of her glass against the table loudly, cutting him off, and then turns her head up toward the ceiling. “Amy.” She says after a moment.

“I’m...what?”

She drops her chin again, and when her eyes find his he’s suddenly violently transported back in time to that moment in the Market four years previously, hours before her reaping, the last time he saw her eyes so clear and bright and present. “It’s Amy,” she says, “you can call me Amy.”

a sound of music au:

Mrs. Simms and Maria both start toward the staircase, a tense silence lingering behind them. Neither Jake nor Captain Santiago move until they hear a door click shut upstairs; the moment the silence descends again, Captain Santiago releases a breath and drops her head.

Somehow, her posture is still ramrod straight.

“I apologize, Mr. Peralta,” she says as she turns toward him, and suddenly Jake is aware of the deep crescents carved into the skin beneath her eyes and the weary way her shoulders curve inward beneath the padding in her suit jacket. “My priorities have just changed. I’m afraid I can’t focus on whatever it is you’re here to do -”

“Assist in the process of recovering from your injury,” he recites quietly.

She blinks, and then shakes her head slightly. “Right. Yes. That. I’m afraid I can’t do that until I find a replacement for my children’s nanny. I think it would be best if you just returned to the hospital for now.”

She starts toward the door, clearly expecting him to follow, but his feet remain planted on the floor. Her gait is uneven - he can see the slight limp on her left side, perhaps a tender knee or hip - and that same strange feeling from the day before is overwhelming in the cavern of his chest once again. “What if I stepped in as a nanny?” he hears himself ask.

Captain Santiago freezes in place, and then slowly turns back to face him, trepidation written as clear as day across her face. “You’re aware of the fact that there are seven of them, correct?”

He nods.

Her brow furrows. “You would be able to properly carry out your duties as a nurse in addition to nannying my children?”

He shrugs. “I don’t imagine the recovery process would be too extensive, since it seems like it’s only your left knee?” He raises his brows and glances at the knee in question.

A look of surprise flashes across her face. “Very observant,” she says, and he gets the feeling that it’s mostly to herself. He doesn’t respond; for a long moment they merely stand staring at each other. “Alright,” she finally says, “I’m willing to give this a try. But the moment the nursing process interferes with my children and their schedule, it’s over, and you will return to the hospital at once. Am I understood?”

He has to resist the urge to salute. “Absolutely, ma’am.” he says instead.

a the good place au (where jake and amy knew each other through competing precincts in the nypd and “hated” each other in life and therefore immediately recognize each other in the after-life):

The Architect takes him to his new home - something tailored specifically for this Other Jake’s tastes, something straight out of his personal nightmares - and he’s really starting to think that he’s going to get away with this. The Architect is showing him the television system and he’s watching point-of-view clips of advocacy works in Uganda and there are fifteen framed paintings of clowns in the corner and someone is knocking on his new front door.

And when the front door opens to reveal the person on the other side, all his hopes of staying are dashed.

Of all the people in the entire universe who could have been assigned to this afterlife neighborhood with him, of all the people in history who could have knocked on his front door, it just had to be Amy freaking Santiago.

-

She does, for whatever reason, wait to question him until after The Architect is gone.

Jake stalls as long as he can closing that front door, taking care to examine the knob - this big round thing that looks to be artificially rusted, how lame - and when he finally, slowly turns on the spot, she’s standing several paces ahead of him with her arms crossed tight over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently.

And suddenly he realizes that she’s wearing a pantsuit in the afterlife.

“So -”

“Don’t.” she snaps, and he drops his gaze to his feet with a nod. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re here, but there’s clearly been a mistake.”

“I could be in The Good Place -” he says indignantly.

“Did you even know you while you were alive? You were the most arrogant, pompous, self-centered and conceited human being I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Oh, please, Santiago. Just because I had a little bit of confidence -”

“I wasn’t finished.” she interrupts sharply, and he rocks backwards to his heels, feeling the door’s cool surface brushing against his shoulders. “All you ever cared about was looking cool and being the best. That’s not confidence, it’s arrogance.”

The all-too-familiar urge to argue with her bubbles up like bitter bile in his throat, but after a moment he feels himself deflating, the fight leaving him all at once. “You’re right,” he shrugs, and if he’s not mistaken there’s surprise cracking through that steely expression on her face. “I mean, the guy - The Architect? - he got my name right, but...that’s it. Those -” he gestures to the television, where the memories are still soundlessly playing on the screen “- are definitely not my memories. He mentioned that I was some kind of death-row lawyer and human rights advocate?”

Amy snorts - clearly in disbelief - but Jake smiles tentatively all the same. “Yeah, that’s obviously incorrect.”

“Here’s the real kicker, though - he said I was also a volunteer firefighter. Can you imagine?”

She pulls a face, laughs a more genuine laugh - and the defensiveness in her eyes diminishes half a degree. And later (much later) he’ll pinpoint this as the moment that hope sparked back to life inside his chest.

#tag game #sorry this got long #anyways thank you again for tagging me #and i'm excited about all the awesome fics coming down the pike from everyone!!! #em speaks #b99 #jake x amy #my b99 fics #sorta

[spn-ficfanatic]

Halo- Chapter 3 (Final)

SPN-FICFANATIC MASTERLIST

“HALO” MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO

Fic Summary: You’ve lived next door to Jensen and Jared for a year and have had a somewhat strained relationship. After a recent and massive change in your life your paths cross again and they discover the cause of that, and bridges start to mend in unexpected ways.

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared x Platonic!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1509

Genre: Fluff. Just fluff :)

Warnings: Swearing seems likely, that’s just how I roll

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When you awoke you were startled to find you were alone in the bed. You lay a hand across the mattress and found it to be cool, before sitting up and looking around the room.

“Jay?” you asked timidly, your heart stopping in your chest.

You heard a clinking in the kitchen and let out a shuddering sigh, grateful he hadn’t left, and got up and wrapped yourself in your dressing gown.

“I’m in the kitchen,” he called out as you tied the robe shut, and you let out a chuckle.

“Yep, worked that one out,” you replied, heading down the hallway to the open space. He was pouring you each a coffee and you sigh contently as you sat down on the kitchen stool. Bringing it over to you he leant down and gave you a deep kiss, which you returned with equal passion. He was grinning as he pulled away, and you brought your mug to your lips to test the temperature... Perfect.

“That was amazing Jensen,” you told him shyly, unable to help the blush from creeping up to your face.

“Nah, I’ve made coffee for you before. This is pretty average in comparison,” he joked before taking a sip of his own drink. You laughed as you put your mug down, running your hand through your hair as you yawned.

“That was,” he started, looking at you seriously. “Quite possibly the best night of my life. Well, not night. I realise it was lunchtime sex, actually it felt like a lot more than just sex, but -“

“Stop rambling Jay, you’re starting to sound like me,” you chuckled. Setting your mug down you stood up and rounded the counter to wrap your arms around his waist. He did the same, and you nestled your head underneath his chin contently. “I’ve only been with one man before and he never treated me like that in the bedroom. Never asked if I was ok or made sure I was enjoying myself before he made sure he got off. What you gave me? It was the best experience of my life.”

You pulled back to smile at him, and he looked down to smile back at you. After sharing a kiss you both pulled apart to finish your coffees and discuss the plans for the evening. Jensen unfortunately had to work so even more unfortunately you couldn’t hit replay on the events of the day, but he promised he’d come right over once he got home. Before you knew it, you were standing at your front door kissing him goodbye as he headed next door to freshen up. You sighed happily and bounded inside, ready to throw on the next season of Supernatural with some cheese and wine.

Jensen closed the door behind him and rested his back against it for a moment recalling the events of the last 4 hours. If someone had told him this is where the day would have ended up he never would have believed them, but he was immensely happy it had. Grinning madly he practically floated to the bathroom to get ready, wishing he could get this shoot over with so he could get back to you.

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“Jensen, what’s gotten into you? I thought we were going to prank cranky pants,” Jared whispered while the crew were busy setting up the shot. Jim was busy going through his lines, oblivious to the fact he was supposed to be the proud owner of a cream pie to the face at some point during the scene. However, Jensen shook his head.

“Dude, it’s just this scene to be done and then we get to go home. I’m wiped,” he shrugged. “We’ll get him tomorrow, yer?”

Jared looked at him with a raised eyebrow, curious about the turn of events, but didn’t push the topic. At least not right away.

1 HOUR LATER

“So, I noticed before you headed to make-up that you have a hickey,” Jared commented casually, causing Jensen to choke on the coffee he had been sipping at that moment.

“Man, you HAD to wait until I was drinking to drop that on me?” he scolded, patting down his shirt with a napkin while Jared laughed alongside him.

“Sorry dude, you made it too easy though. Cummon, who was it?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Jensen replied, throwing the napkin at Jared’s face as he sat up from the table. Jared followed, holding his own drink in his hand and easily keeping up with Jensen by the grace of his long legs.

“Since when are you a gentleman? You told me when you and Stacey got hot and heavy in the make-up trailer.”

“This is... different,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. How do you tell your best friend you’ve fallen in love with the girl next door? The one who was only a few months prior being stabbed in her kitchen by her ex-husband who abused her for the better part of 2 years?

Jared stopped in his tracks, and a huge grin crept across his face. Jensen stopped to turn back and look at him, and groaned when he realised the light bulb had gone off.

“Dude... Y/N? It was totally Y/N, right?”

Jensen felt his face blush, and without answering he turned around and quickened up the pace as he walked away. Jared was laughing and chasing after him, spinning him to face him when he caught up.

“Dude it’s fine, you two are good together. It’s been headed this way for a while so why are you being weird about this?”

“She just got out of an abusive relationship Jare! I didn’t plan this ok, it kinda just happened. Her mum came over and was freaking out saying she couldn’t support herself and telling her she was going home with her and packing her things, so I ran over and told her mom she was my fiancée and that I was helping her and she could stick her head where the sun don’t shine. And then Y/N was crying and I was holding her and when she finally calmed down she looked at me like I was her bloody hero and it just... happened.”

Jared stared at him incredulously before another grin spread across his face. Jensen rolled his eyes and groaned in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air.

“Dude, you even ramble like her. Is that, like, an STD or something?”

“Shaddap. And wait, what do you mean ‘it’s been headed this way for a while’?” he asked. It was Jared’s turn to roll his eyes at his friend’s ignorance, and as the bell started ringing he started walking them back to set.

“You two have this thing. I’m not sure I can even explain it but you’re just so natural with each other. It’s more than friendship; I love her like a sister but you... I dunno man, the way you look at each other when the other is looking away, how you stand up when she does and hold the door for her, the way you both light up like the sun when the other walks in the room. It’s like a fricking Disney movie in our living room.”

Jared finished his coffee and threw the cup into the nearby bin as he approached the set, leaving Jensen with that realisation. Not even he had realised you had that sort of connection, and now he really wanted to get back to you.

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Despite his earlier teasing, Jared was quite casual when Jensen headed straight for your front door upon arriving home in the wee hours of the morning.

“See you later?” he asked as he put the key in their door.

“I think so yer, see ya then,” Jensen replied, knocking lightly on your door so as not to wake the rest of the residence.

When you didn’t answer he frowned, but tried to remind himself that most people were asleep at 3am. Using the key you had given them in case of emergency, he quietly let himself into your apartment. The light in the kitchen was still on and he could see you were fast asleep on the couch. Smiling, he set his bag down and approached you quietly, not wishing to startle you. When you didn’t stir, he gently bent down and lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom. You nuzzled your face into his chest, and his heartbeat increased at the feeling it gave him. After a quick shower he slipped into the bed next to your still-sleeping form, spooning you comfortably. You shuffled your body closer, and moaned happily as you continued to slumber. Running his fingers lightly through your hair, Jensen thought about everything that had happened since you came into their lives and realised this was the happiest he'd been in years.

Holding you tightly he made a silent vow to never let you hurt again, and eventually fell asleep with you in his arms.

A/N: Thanks for the love, hope y’all enjoyed it! FYI my current WIP has the reader dealing with cancer, it’s gonna be epic and I hope you all stick around to enjoy it (really proud of this one... if I can ever finish it lol!). Also feeling like doing another Buffy rewrite… I might have an idea up my sleeve maybe.

SPN-FICFANATIC MASTERLIST

“HALO” MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO

Tag Lists (Open) Halo Series taglist: @ocean-waves-that-misbehave, @flamencodiva @krys198478, @lostnnot2befound, @deansyahtzee, @gloriousartisanfancreator, @anathewierdo , @darkswanordie , @ravenesque, @mirandaaustin93 , @thekatherinewinchester (won’t tag *SOB*), @letmebeyoursforever “Dean/Jensen” taglist: @lilydarcy (won’t tag *SOB*), @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk “Everything” taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @ronja-uebrick, @im-dead-inside05, @julzdec, @adoptdontshoppets, @meghanbeinghappy, @sleepylunarwolf , @sammysgirl1997 

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