#its hilarious that she remembers she a mother today but she must have forgotten when the only interactions I had with my dad was him verb

[littlemrcaprisun]

Team Dimitrescu || Lady Dimitrescu x Ready {NSFW}

{This is for and thanks to @gayllamafromspace and @themagnacarla for the prompt and workshopping/brainstorming}

{Also it’s spicy}

Alcina always knew she would end up killing him. She just didn’t think it would be over something quite… ridiculous. It all started a month ago when Heisenburg thought it would be hilarious to bring a box set of the human “Twilight” films. Everyone sat down, ready to hate them, and ready to quit watching halfway through the first movie. You knew that the movies were pretty silly but you were still pretty excited to curl up with Alcina on the elaborate sofa for even just a little bit. But two days later they had torn through all five of the movies with a disgusted intrigue that shocked all of them, especially Alcina. The girls wouldn’t shut up about Team Edward or Team Jacob, Heisenburg kept insisting that werewolves weren’t creepy and don’t even imprint at all. Alcina really thought she was going to lose it, and you were stuck watching the chaos unfold. 

Then came the books. When they found out the movies were based on books of course everyone had to get their very own set. You even got on board with this, seeing as you had never read the books when they were popular, and why not join the book club? You were always looking for some way to bond with your new weird family. Alcina refuses to get involved, she won’t even touch the books as though they would burn her skin with a mere graze. Every time she passes by any of you reading you catch her rolling her eyes and turning her chin up towards the ceiling. So dramatic. 

The girls and Heisenburg finish reading before you do, impressively, and you think it must be some sort of supernatural reading ability… or just the ability to focus. They have a meeting everyday to discuss the books for hours, a meeting you’re not invited to.

“You haven’t finished the books, therefore you cannot discuss them with us.” Sofia states sternly when you try to sit around the table with them.

“Yeah but I’m half way through them, I can at least listen.” You reason, desperately hoping this will work but knowing it will fail. Dani comes over and sighs.

“Listen, why don’t you go make out with Mother or something. She much prefers your company.” She gives you a little shove backwards out of the room. Alina, as usual, comes to your rescue and offers a warm reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you up later. I’m sure we won’t talk about a lot today. It usually just ends up with Uncle H yelling about how wrong the werewolves are.” Alina soothes. How is she different from her sisters and mother?

“Hey! It’s true! These guys seem like creeps.” He declares from the table behind them. You swallow the lump in your throat, hold your head up high and nod. You won’t let them beat you down anymore.

“Yeah it’s no problem. Don’t want to hear you shit talk something I enjoy anyway.” You turn and head down the hall, as you leave you hear them murmuring about you. 

“Why does your mother keep it around?” He whispers.

“It must taste good or lay well.” Sofia responds, less hushed. Dani laughs and Alina shushes her.

You continue walking toward the library where you gather your book and journal, unsure if you can continue reading after that. You don’t see much point in it now, without anyone to discuss it with. You meander back to your bedroom and let out a sad sigh when you don’t find Alcina there. It isn’t common for her to be there at this time but you were just hoping for something good.

You curl up alone in your massive bed and continue reading. You’re trying not to gag on the sickly sweet dialogue and the choppy narrative when you hear the door open, your heart soars. Swooping in with her big hat and white dress, Lady Dimitrescu arrives in her towering glory. You push up your glasses and give her a once over. She looks divine. 

“God, you’re reading that cursed book. And you’re wearing those pathetic glasses to do so.” She scoffs and makes her way to her personal wine storage kept in the room.

“Lovely to see you too, dearest, my day wasn’t great thanks for asking.” You give her the most sarcasm you can muster before returning to the book. She stops pouring the second glass of wine to look over her shoulder at you.

“What happened? The girls?” You hate the way she knows it’s them. It is always them. You give her a hum as a response which earns you a growl. She glides over to the bed and sets your glass of wine, blood free, on your night stand before making her way to the vanity. “I have had many talks with them and reprimanded them many times. I simply think you will have to try harder to get along, they are not easy to manage.”

You don’t give her a response, you don’t even look up at her from your book, which infuriates her. She loves the way you watch her nighttime ritual with pure adoration in your eyes, but now these insufferable books are ruining everything.

“At least drink your damn wine.” She grumbles, as a passing statement, full of jealousy. How dare something so useless take your full attention away from her? “Or perhaps put down that fucking book.”

This makes you raise a brow. She never uses such strong language, she’s too much of a lady for that, so she must be fed up with this. You keep reading out of spite. Suddenly, she’s on the bed next to you, the smell of her intoxicating you and making you want to give in so bad, but you keep reading. You’re going to make her beg for a change.

“Y/n, if you don’t put the book down…” She’s trying hard to steady her breathing and stay calm. You can’t help but think that it’s kind of cute that she's so desperate for your attention. However, she takes cute to the next level in a split second when she’s suddenly on top of you. The book is smashed into your chest, the hard corners and sharp edges digging into your skin, but completely forgotten. You stare up into her dark eyes and know that she thinks she’s winning. You can’t let that happen.

You wiggle until your arms are free and replace the book in front of your face, but you aren’t really reading anymore. You can hear her teeth grinding together from the other side of it. She wants no part in the game you're playing even though she knows she’ll win. You both know she’ll win, but it’s oh so fun to make her squirm. But soon you’re the one whose squirming as her hand makes its way under your shirt, cold skin making you shiver and sigh but you hold out. She’s playing dirty now.

She teases you until you can’t feel your nipples anymore she still doesn’t remove her hand, knowing she can overstimulate you easily from here. She’s watching your face from over the top of the book, waiting for resignation but when she doesn’t find it her hand wanders lower. She isn’t gentle, not tonight. Tonight isn’t really about you, it’s about her getting you back. She makes quick work of cutting away your pants and underwear with her elongated nail. You fucking hate those things sometimes. 

There’s no slow build up or sweet foreplay, she goes straight for your clit, catching you completely off guard. You moan loudly and press the book against your face for just a moment before you remember this is not how you’re going to lose. You refuse to lose even as her fingers work hard and faster and drive her higher up the wall. You refuse to lose as she roughly slip one, then two, then - fuck - three fingers inside you. 

You forget what game you’re playing when you throw the book on the floor as soon as she pulls you into an oblivion of pleasure. As soon as you come back to earth she starts to pull out of you but you grab her wrist, trying to keep her hand inside of you, but she jerks it away. 

“Ah, ah. This wasn’t for you. This was for me. I wanted my baby back so I got my baby back.” She says very matter of factly as she presses her used fingers to your lips. You accept them into your mouth and clean them with your tongue, full attention on her. “Much better.” She smiles, much calmer and genuinely happy.

“Now, whose team are you on?” She asks, allowing you to speak around your fingers.

“Team Dimitrescu.” 

#lady dimitrescu #lady alcina #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader

[mister-supernova]

This Isn’t Goodbye

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

No one expected today to escalate the way it did. The Salvatore School had its fair share of chaos this entire year, and having a group of grown adults barge onto school grounds with guns and bark orders while treating supernatural kids like the scum of the Earth surprisingly wasn’t the worst thing that was going to happen to you today. 

Without the ability to access your powers, none of the students could defend themselves and there was no one else around to protect any of you. The members of the triad were ruthless and especially dangerous with their Malivore mud bullets that could poison any student who crossed the line. 

Unfortunately, you and Josie bit the end of one of those bullets. It wasn’t even supposed to hit you, but a shard managed to bounce off the floor and dig into your leg. 

At first, you didn’t know you were hit until you could feel your energy escaping you with every minute that passed. You thought that maybe you were just dehydrated, then you looked down and noticed the blood seeping through your jeans--your blood. 

Part of you didn’t know how you were able to stay on your feet while you, Hope, Lizzie, and Jo were forced to go into the werewolf holding cells in the basement. Lizzie was tending to Josie on one side of the cell on a cot while you and Hope were sat up against the wall on the other side of the room. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n. I swear. Once we find a way to figure out what’s blocking our magic, we’ll get that out of you as quickly as possible.” Hope says, her voice wavering ever so slightly. It made you smile, hearing the big, brave, tribrid worry for you. 

When you first met Hope, you weren’t sure that she had any interest in you once so ever. She was the mysterious, martyr-complex heroine trying to find her purpose in the world. She never let herself get too close to anyone because of her fear of losing them. 

Like MG, you were Dr. Saltzman’s student assistant when it came to taming the out of control werewolves of the school, so you saw Hope more often than the other students did. It was probably two years ago--about a year after meeting Hope--that you guys spoke more than three words to each other. 

You made yourself comfortable around Hope fairly quickly after becoming friends. She would never say that you two became friends so fast, but you believe otherwise. 

Unlike the many other students who tried befriending Hope and ended up backing down on her due to the fact that she was very stubborn, you never gave up on her.

Instead, you continued to be your usual goofball self around her. You’d tell her one terrible joke every day and even though she acted like she loathed it, she always looked forward to hearing them.  

Sometimes you would catch her sitting alone at one of the tables in the library either reading for one of your classes or studying for an exam. You’d pull up a chair and sit right beside her, nearly talking her ear off for half an hour while she pretended not to listen when really she was taking in every detail. You knew this because you’d notice her smile softly from behind her book. 

The two of you grew close, but you never expected yourself to develop feelings for Hope that were deeper than friendship. You believe they started when she let herself really smile and laugh at your dumb jokes. Something about the way her eyes crinkled when she was really happy made your heart grow three sizes. 

You’ve made it a point throughout your friendship to tease Hope anytime you saw her show concern for you and your friends.

“Is this the Hope Mikaelson worrying about someone?” Your voice was already starting to sound groggy and you could feel the poison spreading up your body at a painfully slow pace, “You sure you weren’t shot, too?” You ask, feeling her head with the back of your hand which she quickly removes with her own, “You’re cute when you’re worried, Mikaelson.” 

“I can’t believe you're making a joke of this right now.” She tells you, not letting go of your hand. 

“Sorry. Would you prefer that I act out the excruciating pain this Malivore bullet is making me feel, instead? I could also make a list of every body part that feels like it’s on fire if you have the time.” The serious look in her eyes only made you smile more. You never let your sense of humor falter, even in your possible last moments. 

“Why do you always do that?” Hope wonders with a half-hearted chuckle as she shakes her head at you.

“Do what? Be unbelievably hilarious even though I’m on my way to my impending doom?” You hush your voice as low as possible so that Lizzie and Josie couldn’t hear you from the other side of the cell. As much as you enjoyed making a joke of this situation, you weren’t sure the twins would feel the same way.

“You just smile and act like everything is okay. Like you aren’t in any pain.” 

You in fact were in the worst pain of your life, but the last thing you were going to do was let her see that. The infection of the bullet had made its way to your lower back at this point and it felt worse than any other sort of pain you’d ever felt prior to this moment. 

Seriously, you’d rather shift into your werewolf form for the rest of the day than feel this bullet destroying you from the inside out. 

“Well, maybe--let’s say this situation goes sour and we can’t figure out how to get the evil mud out of my body--I don’t want you to see me in absolute agony and I don’t want that to be the last thing you remember about me.” 

Hope squeezes your hand, not even wanting to imagine how you must be feeling right now. 

You squeeze hers back, “But I know with you here, I’ll be okay no matter what happens.” 

Tears began to fill the bottom of her eyelids, making the usual spark in her blue eyes--that you also started to fall for--go dull. Seeing her on the verge of crying caused your smile to fade. 

She had lost so many people she cared about because of her and she didn’t want you to be the next. The thought of that hadn’t crossed your mind until now. 

“Hope, it’s going to be okay.” You tell her with the most assurance you could. You knew that the chances of you surviving this weren’t certain, but the last thing you wanted to see was Hope cry. The sight of that would be more painful than the bullet.  

She nods silently before leaning her forehead against your shoulder and squeezing your hand with all the strength she could muster. You squeezed back, assuring her that you still had a good amount of your own strength left. 

Then you pressed a kiss to the top of Hope’s head, “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper into her hair, “There isn’t anyone else I want listening to my stupid rants and laughing at my dumb jokes. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone else would.”

A small chuckle manages to escape the tribrid and when she looks back up at you, you can’t tell if she thinks you're the biggest idiot in the world or the greatest person to exist. You decided to go with the second one judging by the faint smile she was giving you. 

It wasn’t until a few seconds passed that you realized how close her face was to yours. Her nose could practically touch yours if you were to slightly rotate your head to the right. 

Super hearing or not, you were sure that everyone in the cell could hear how fast your heart was beating right now and it wasn’t because of the Malivore bullet. 

You glanced down at her lips for less than a second and that was all you needed to do to know that you really wanted to kiss Hope Mikaelson. It wasn’t like you haven’t wanted to in the past, but in this moment you thought that this could be your last chance.

“Hope, I-”

The moment vanished at the sound of a familiar vampire running towards your cell--MG. Josie remained on the bed while you, Lizzie and Hope talked with him from behind the bars that he had now unlocked. 

After being caught up on how his mother is an agent working for Triad and that there’s a terrifying bloody skull sculpture in the school tunnels that’s blocking off the witches’ magic, you looked over at Hope. 

“Looks like that’s your cue,” she looks at you and Josie, who is looking a lot paler than earlier, “The school needs you and so does Landon. Go be a hero, Mikaelson.” 

Hope gives you one last awed smile before taking a confident step towards you and gently pulling your neck down to meet her lips with yours. To catch yourself from falling forward in surprise, your hands find her waist and you let out a content sigh. 

For a moment, the pain from the Malivore bullet was long forgotten and all you had to focus on was the beautiful woman in front of you. You couldn’t care less that Lizzie, Josie, and MG were witnessing your first kiss with the tribrid. In your mind, they weren’t even there. For all you knew, it was just you and Hope in the world.

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as you wanted it to, but given that some of you were in a life or death situation, you thought maybe it was for the best. When Hope pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours while her fingers still traced along the back of your neck. 

“Now, you really better come back.” You say breathlessly, feeling another smile grow on your face. 

“You better be here when I do,” she whispers with a hint of seriousness in her voice. 

“Will I get another one of those if I am?” 

She smiles, taking a small step away from you, “We’ll see.”

~

this is my first time posting an imagine like this, so i hope you guys like it ;) i’m making this a little mini series (idk how many parts yet) but part 2 will be coming very soon! 

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson x reader #legacies imagine #legacies #legacies cw

[skelebonecentral]

Hothouse rose chapter 1

a reverse harem with the lust boys

first we gotta meet the basic skeles

words under cut

Frisk was your cousin.

They’d run away, a week after their mom passed away. Your aunt, their other mother, was frantic and your whole family had gone out searching, as well as most of the town. You’re so glad it was your dad’s oldest sister who first caught sight of the monsters and not the sheriff or someone not quite as sensible.

Frisk came back from the mountain that loomed above your town with a whole civilization behind them.

Yeah, they tried to hook their mom up with Toriel, the strong, kind, and welcoming goat woman who was the Queen of the monsters, but Frisk was just a very romantic kid in general. They flirted as a hobby, it was hilarious and you were so glad they were back and safe to continue cracking you up with it.

They hugged everyone and apologized for scaring them, that they figured out that just because they were hurting didn’t mean it was okay to hurt other people, when they finally got the chance to exit the monsters’ camp after the police and government and all kinds of things showed up.

Still, you had to admire them for how much they grew up if that was what they wanted to say right away. Well, sign. Frisk was mute, after all.

Having them home was so nice, and their new friends were awesome.

You met Toriel first, of course, and her ex-husband, Asgore. You felt sorry for the big fluffy guy, he looked so hopeless and sad when Toriel would glare at him. And Frisk called him Dad, that was so cute, cause he just lit up. It was weird, though, feeling so pitying toward a ten foot tall goat man with huge horns and a long golden beard who had been alive for centuries longer than you.

Still, you liked both the goat people, and Monster Kid, Frisk’s new bestie who ran around with them. He was…well, he was a monster kid. Lizardish, with a tail and yellow-orange scales, but no arms to speak of. It made him top heavy, since he was humanoid, so he fell over often. Frisk seemed very fond of him, and you were glad. They hadn’t had a lot of luck making friends with other human kids at school before all of this.

But Frisk, being the eternal matchmaker they were, decided YOU needed to get in on this whole monster friend business.

Of course, you didn’t realize it until Gyftmas. It was a monster holiday from Snowdin, a small town Underground, that centered around gift giving and involved Santa for some reason? Anyway, the monster community was holding a carnival inside the local event center (it was mid-September so there weren’t any OTHER holidays to do) and your little cousin, being the ambassador, was of course invited and they brought you as their plus one.

Did you forget to mention that Frisk was the ambassador for monsters? They are. Well, at least in name. That’s their official title, is Ambassador, but they’re more like a figurehead while Toriel and Asgore handle the actual statecraft. The adults do let them cut ribbons and make speeches, but they’re just not ready for something that complicated. They are only six, after all.

But back to the carnival, Frisk brought you, and took you to a particular booth.

The booth was decorated with several action figures from an old 80’s cartoon that you used to love watching reruns of, and the sign above said, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ TRIVIA BOOTH!”

Frisk beamed as they dragged you, and looking in the booth, there was a very tall soldier-looking fellow who seemed to be a skeleton.

“HELLO, DEAR FRISK! I SEE YOU BROUGHT A HUMAN WITH YOU!” he called exuberantly, waving with bright red mittens. He had a black something or other on under the white chest piece of…oh that’s not actually armor. As you got closer, you’re now aware its made of fabric and the lines and emblem on the front are felt pieces sewn to it. The big round shoulder pads are attached, too.

Frisk signs eagerly, “Hi Papyrus! This is my cousin, Y/N! I wanted them to try your trivia!” Their hands are going very fast, and they’re bouncing, so they’re very excited about this.

“OH!” the skeleton stands up, showing his very obvious spine in his black whateverthatis and the odd ultra-short shorts that match his chest piece. “HELLO, HUMAN Y/N! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET A RELATIVE OF MY DEAR FRIEND, FRISK!”

He holds out his hand, and you shake it, feeling the long fingerbones underneath and finding yourself grinning like an idiot. Holy heck, an actual skeleton was talking to you. Your inner child was screaming with joy in their Jack-skellington slippers. Frisk had to have known…well, how could they not, your room is covered in Halloween and skeleton themed knickknacks.

“H-hey, Papyrus, I’m super glad to meet you, too!” you didn’t mean to stammer but you’re trying not to freak out as your arm is nearly shaken from its socket. He’s so STRONG!

Frisk giggled and signed something too quick for you to parse, and Papyrus let you go, “OH, ALRIGHT! HAVE A GOOD TIME, FRISK! YOUR COUSIN AND I WILL HAVE A BATTLE OF WITS!”

They scampered away and left you with the skeleton, who pulled out a fold out chair, setting it in front of his booth and then sitting in his own behind the counter, “ALRIGHTIE THEN! HUMAN Y/N, YOUR CHALLENGE SHALL BE TO ANSWER TEN QUESTIONS ABOUT MONSTER CULTURE. THE MORE YOU GET CORRECT, THE BETTER YOUR PRIZE! BEING FRISK’S COUSIN, YOU SHOULD DO VERY WELL!”

“Don’t be so sure, Papyrus. I have some wicked test anxiety,” you joke, and he blinks his sockets at you.

“NO NEED TO BE NERVOUS!” His smile seems set in his long jawed skull, but it actually tilts up a bit more, “SOMEONE WHO LOVES OUR FRISK IS BOUND TO BE A GOOD LISTENER AND KIND SOUL, SO I HAVE FAITH IN YOU. FIRST QUESTION!” he whipped out a set of cards, “WHAT IS KING ASGORE’S FAVORITE DRINK?”

You smile, happy it’s one you know, “Golden Flower Tea. He likes tea in general but that’s his favorite.”

“CORRECT! WOWIE, AND SO CONFIDENT!” Papyrus seems just as pleased as you are, “NEXT ONE! WHAT WAS THE FIRST SECTION OF THE UNDERGROUND CALLED?”

“Ah,” you had to think a moment, then said cautiously, “I think it was the Ruins?”

“YOU’RE RIGHT.” Papyrus then set two further action figures from the same set as his decorations, “THESE WILL MARK YOUR SUCCESSES! ALRIGHT, NEXT!” He shifted his sockets in a comical manner that you had to fight your instinct to laugh at, “HOW MANY MOVIES HAS METTATON, OUR BELOVED STAR, PUT OUT AS OF TODAY?”

You blink…and you have to guess because you honestly don’t care for Mettaton’s version of movies, “28?”

Papyrus’ jaw just falls open, and he sets another figure on the counter, “I THOUGHT FOR SURE THAT WOULD STUMP YOU! I’M FLABBERGASTED. YOU MUST BE A VERY DEDICATED FAN OF METTATON, JUST LIKE MYSELF.”

You blush, “N-not really. His music and dancing are great, but the movies go over my head, I guess. I only watched one because Frisk wanted me to…”

He chuckles, “AT LEAST YOU ARE HONEST. I WATCH THEM FOR THE FUN OF SEEING EVERYONE ELSE’S REACTIONS, HONESTLY. AND THE SET DESIGNS! THEY’RE VERY WELL DONE, AFTER ALL.”

“Oh, yeah, I did notice that. I bet a lot of Broadway plays would love to get his input on that front.”

Papyrus perked up, “BROADWAY? I KNOW A STREET BY THAT NAME BUT I GET THE FEELING YOU’RE REFERRING TO A THEATER OR SOMETHING SIMILAR.”

“Kind of?” you quirk your mouth a bit, not really smiling but thinking about it, “It’s a street in New York City with lots of theaters on it that’s famous for having the best in plays and musicals in the country. It’s really a cool place, from what I hear.”

“OOH! I SHOULD LOOK UP MORE ABOUT THAT LATER. ANYWAY!” He gets out a set of note cards, “I WROTE ALL THE QUESTIONS DOWN SO I COULD HAVE LOTS OF CHOICES. YOU’RE DOING A LOT BETTER THAN SOME PEOPLE!”

You were getting excited now, wondering what he could ask.

“OKAY! WHAT WAS THE NAME OF OUR LOST PRINCE?”

You frown. That was a serious question, and you think back to Frisk’s descriptions they would give you now and then of their time under the mountain. “Asriel.” You remembered thinking his name sounded angelic.

“ANOTHER FIGURE FOR YOU!” Papyrus plops the next figure on the desk and…

“Is that the villain? I didn’t know they even made a figure for him.” You can’t help yourself, not when you’d loved his antics as a kid. “Lord Verminator, looking good.”

Papyrus gasped, “YOU LIKE ALIEN WARLORDS OF JUSTICE?! I THOUGHT HUMANITY HAD FORGOTTEN THIS CLASSIC SERIES! I HAVE EVERY FIGURE EVER MADE EXCEPT FOR THREE, AND EVERY EPISODE ON VARIOUS VHS TAPES. I WILL HAVE TO ASK FOR FRISK TO BRING YOU OVER AND HAVE A MARATHON!”

You nod eager, “I know I haven’t been able to see every episode. I only got a few episodes they put on an old cable channel but it was so good. I managed to salvage some merch from antique stores, but it’s never been enough.”

“THERE WAS MORE THAN ACTION FIGURES?!” Papyrus is awestruck, orange sparkles appearing around his skull. “OH THIS HAS TO BE FATE! MY FIRST HUMAN FRIEND HAS A GROWN-UP COUSIN WHO LOVES THE SAME SERIES AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS? SERENDIPITOUS!”

You finally laugh and nod, “You’re so peppy! How did Frisk manage to keep you a secret? I wish we’d met sooner now.”

His sparkles increased, and he began pumping his fists up and down eagerly, “DO YOU REALLY MEAN IT? BECAUSE IF SO, I AGREE WHOLEHEARTEDLY! LET’S GET THIS QUIZ OVER WITH SO WE CAN GUSH ABOUT OUR FAVORITE THINGS INSTEAD!”

He takes a notecard and asks, “WHAT IS THE SYMBOL OF OUR KINGDOM CALLED?”

“The one Toriel wears, right? I think…it was the Delta Rune?”

“YES!” the card was set down, a figure was placed, and another card picked up, “WHO IS THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD?”

“Undyne.” You sigh, “She tried to suplex me the first time I had to go to Toriel’s to pick up Frisk.”

“OH, THAT WAS YOU?” Papyrus tilts his skull, and you notice his sockets are slightly uneven. You also notice you like hearing him talk, even though he’s very loud. “SHE TOLD ME SOME HUMAN CAME AND MANAGED TO DODGE HER GRAB. SHE’S BEEN TRYING TO GET FASTER AFTER THAT.”

You want to comment, but Papyrus gets another card, “WHO CREATED THE CORE?“ he stops, frowns, then tosses the cards behind him, “THAT ONE WAS ACTUALLY A TRICK QUESTION, BECAUSE NOBODY KNOWS WHO DID IT! AND AS MUCH AS I LIKE TRIVIA, I’M MORE EXCITED ABOUT TALKING WITH YOU.”

Smiling, you take his elbow when he offers it, despite him being two feet taller than you, even in his flat bottomed red rain boots, “That’s pretty flattering. What was the prize for the quiz, though? I’m curious.”

“A DATE WITH YOURS TRULY!” Papyrus laughed, “NYEHEHEHE, BUT I HAVE A FEELING HUMANS WOULD BE RATHER INTIMIDATED BY SOMEONE AS HANDSOME AND CAPABLE AS MYSELF, SO GIVING YOU A TOUR SEEMS MUCH NICER.”

Papyrus led you around the event center, pointing at the various booths and explaining them, even sometimes introducing you to the monster manning it. You didn’t see hide nor hair of Frisk for the rest of the evening, but you didn’t really notice. Papyrus’ enthusiastic rambling and genuine glee at showing you around kept you glued to his side gladly.

When the crowds had thinned out considerably, you asked, “Papyrus, this has been the most fun I’ve had at a fair in years. I’d really like to do more cool stuff like this with you, so maybe we could exchange numbers?”

He froze, then turned, big sparkles appearing again, including inside his sockets, “WOWIE, REALLY?! OF COURSE WE CAN! I REALIZE IT IS LATE AND HUMAN BEINGS NEED PLENTY OF SLEEP TO BE HEALTHY, UNLIKE THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SO LET US HURRY!”

He shoved his phone into your hand and you gave him yours, typing in your number and naming yourself with a balloon emoji on the end to remind him of the fun fair you’d shared together. You get your phone back as you hold out his, and it says “THE GREAT PAPYRUS” with a skull emoji and a gold medal one on the end.

“Perfect! Feel free to text me whenever, but I might not answer if I’m busy or sleeping.”

He nodded, “I UNDERSTAND! I WILL PROBABLY BE TEXTING YOU QUITE OFTEN, BUT FEEL FREE TO TAKE YOUR TIME. UNDYNE SAYS I TEND TO RAMBLE WHEN I’M EXCITED. AND I’M ALWAYS EXCITED! ESPECIALLY WHEN I MAKE A NEW FRIEND.”

You nod and bid him goodbye, getting a back-cracking hug, before he rushes off into the fair and you head toward your car. Frisk had texted you earlier to say they were going home with Toriel, so you rode back alone, glad for the break so you could process your night with the personification of optimism that was Papyrus.

--

You got texts from Papyrus every day. Multiple texts in a row, about ten different times a day, and about just about any subject that was on his mind at the time.

“JUST GOT BACK FROM MY MORNING JOG! I HOPE YOU’VE HAD A GOOD MORNING SO FAR!” at 5:30 am.

“IF YOU NEED ANYTHING AT THE STORE TODAY, I WORK AT SMILE MART! MY SHIFT IS FROM SIX TO TWO, SO FEEL FREE TO SWING BY FOR A VISIT.”

“I LOOKED UP BROADWAY FINALLY! THERE’S SO MUCH TO LEARN! IT’S BEAUTIFUL!”

“UNDYNE IS STILL DOING SPEED TRAINING TO TRY AND OUTMATCH YOU. I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TWO TO OFFICIALLY MEET ON BETTER TERMS!”

That was the general gist of his messages, just little windows into his day and topics that related back to earlier conversations.

You would answer him between classes, since you were a freshman in the local college, and once you were off around noon, you’d head to Smile Mart and see Papyrus in action.

The first time you actually were able to see him at work, he was meticulously arranging the dairy section, making every gallon of milk have the handle facing the same direction in his white button up, black pants, and bright pink apron.

Hearing you approach, he snapped upward and his face lit up, “HUMAN Y/N! HELLO!” Standing to hi full height and brushing himself down, he posed like a soldier at parade rest, “HOW DO YOU LIKE MY DAPPER WORK ATTIRE?”

You smirk a bit, just in an effort not to laugh out loud at that pose and speech combined, but answer honestly, “You make it look good.”

“THANK YOU! I’M AWARE!” he grinned, then got back to his task, “THANK YOU FOR COMING IN. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR TODAY?”

That sounded suspiciously like a work script rather than just Papyrus being himself, but you shrug it off, “I don’t need anything in particular at the dorm, so I’m just gonna grab one of those yogurt and fruit smoothie drinks over there when I head out. best breakfast treat.”

He looks at the items you’re pointing at, then nods in approval, “FRUIT AND YOGURT ARE GOOD CHOICES FOR A MORNING BEVERAGE. AND DORMS? ARE YOU PERHAPS A MEMBER OF THE CLERGY?”

You do laugh at that, “No! No, I’m a first semester freshman at the university. You have to spend your first semester on campus if you live more than a certain distance away and unfortunately, my house isn’t in the right range.”

“OH. THAT’S QUITE INTERESTING!” He rubs his chin, “I WAS ACTUALLY CONSIDERING GOING TO THE COLLEGE MYSELF, BUT SANS ISN’T EXACTLY A FAN OF IT.”

“Is that the brother you told me about at the fair? The one who sleeps?” Papyrus had mentioned he had a brother who was lazy and slept a lot, but not the name.

“YES. HE NAPS ALL NIGHT AND FREQUENTLY DURING THE DAY ALSO!”

You grin as he waggles his brows. He had noticed how you didn’t like his wording when he’d said the same line about “napping all night” at the fair, and now he teases you with it. “Still called sleeping, Pap.”

He chuckles good naturedly and shrugs, “WHATEVER IT’S CALLED, THAT’S WHAT SANS DOES. SLEEP, EAT, AND EMIT SLIME.”

“He emits slime?”

“SOMETIMES. FRISK SAYS THAT IS ACTUALLY CALLED DROOL UP HERE. NOW I’M WONDERING IF MY BROTHER IS RELATED TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY’RE THE ONLY ONES I’VE SEEN WHO DROOL QUITE AS MUCH AS HE DOES WHILE SNORING.”

The visits become routine after that first one. When you get a break during his shift, you just go to the store and buy some kind of single serving drink. Yeah, you wish they were in cardboard cartons or glass instead, but all your bottles do go into your recycling bucket at your dorm. It’s more an excuse to talk to Papyrus, anyway.

He asks more about the university, and when you ask him what he’d major in if he did attend, he has a very good answer already, “SPORTS MEDICINE! I’M A VERY GOOD HEALER NATURALLY, AND I LOVE ATHLETICS OF ALL SORTS, SO WHY NOT COMBINE MY TWO PROCLIVITIES INTO ONE CAREER PATH? UNDYNE DOESN’T NEED ME ANYONE ELSE IN THE GUARD NOW THAT WE’RE UP HERE, AND I WANT TO BE HELPFUL.” He scratched his chin a bit before adding to the end, “WELL, MORE HELPFUL THAN I AM CURRENTLY ANYWAY.”

That’s a great idea, you think, and you encourage him to go for it. After all, he’s got so much energy, you’re sure any course of study will be a breeze.

It’s kind of surprising when, a few weeks later, he texts you excitedly, “I GOT MY ACCEPTANCE LETTER! NEXT SEMESTER WE’RE GOING TO BE CLASSMATES! ONCE IT’S TIME, LET’S CHOOSE OUR SCHEDULES TOGETHER!”

Wow, he really does go for what he wants, doesn’t he?

--

Great was definitely the least you could say about Papyrus by the time you two were meeting up on the first day of the semester.

He had already invited you over to his house several times, Frisk had dragged you along on lots of outings with the skeleton, and you had braved a meeting with Undyne and her adorable wife, Alphys, as part of a celebration for Papyrus’ acceptance into college.

So when his unique figure came striding up the sidewalks on campus, you immediately ran to meet him and got scooped into a twirling hug with your mutual giggles echoing off the old gothic revival buildings around the ovular clearing.

“Papyrus!”

“Y/N!”

As you were set down, you beamed up at him, “I’m so glad I didn’t start my gen ed until now. We have all semester together.”

“I KNOW! SURE, I HAVE TO TAKE THAT ONE NUTRITION CLASS WHILE YOU’VE GOT CHEMISTRY, BUT OTHER THAN THAT!” He’s bouncing on his heels and utterly pleased, and noticing his bouncing is what draws your eyes to the shorter figure next to him.

Another skeleton, about your height and blinking at you with white lights in his large, round sockets, stood next to Papyrus and waved lazily at you, “heya.”

“Oh my gosh, you must be Sans!” you were excited to finally meet Papy’s brother. “I dunno how it took this long for us to end up in the same place but I’m so glad to meet you!” You offer your hand and it gets taken with a long “pffffffffffffffffft” sound.

“SANS! I TOLD YOU NOT TO BRING THAT TODAY!” Papyrus sounds equal parts furious and embarrassed, as the bright orange glowing on his cheekbones betrays.

“had to, bro. can’t skip the classic gags,” Sans takes his hand back, revealing a small red whoopie cushion in it.

You stare, surprised, “Oh my gosh? I didn’t know anybody even used oldies like that anymore. Or did actual harmless pranks like that. Consider me impressed; you’ve got better taste in humor than most of MeTube.”

That seems to shock the smaller skeleton before you, making him lower his hand slowly. He was wearing a blue hoodie jacket over a white shirt with small stains on the chest, and black basketball shorts with white socks and pink house shoes. “uh. thanks.”

“DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM,” Papyrus huffed, “HE’LL START PUNNING AND THEN WE’LL BE HERE ALL DAY.” He pulled you forward, away from Sans, and waved at his brother, “HAVE A GOOD DAY DOING WHATEVER ODD JOBS YOU HAVE TODAY, BROTHER! I WILL BE ENJOYING MY TIME LEARNING WITH MY BEST FRIEND!”

“I thought Undyne was your best friend?” you say as he speeds away from a perplexed looking Sans, who you wave to with a helpless expression.

“SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND, TOO. YOU CAN HAVE AS MANY BEST FRIENDS AS YOU LIKE!”

--

Classes go smoothly, but you begin to notice….

Well, you see Sans pretty much everywhere.

Leaving your one class you don’t have with Papyrus, you see him snoozing on a bench outside.

While leaving your part time job sorting all the incoming books for the library on campus, there he is again, at one of the computers looking up jokes.

Even while you’re out getting a haircut, you find him running a little hotdog cart. Finally, you have to ask him what he’s doing.

“Heya, Sans,” you go up to the stand, which is currently empty. “Been seeing you around a lot.”

“why didn’t ya say hi, then, kiddo? my brother sings your praises daily, wouldn’t have minded saying hello.” He’s just got a green apron on over his outfit from before, and you smile.

“I don’t wanna intrude. Just thought I’d ask what was up, y’know? Normally it’s just students at the library. How’d you even get in the computer without a student id?” That had been bothering you for a bit.

“oh, easy. I’m faculty.”

Your brain shorted for a moment, “You…are?”

“yep,” he chuckled, waving you to a seat next to his cart. “turns out a monster phd converts pretty well to a human one. Just consulting with the physics department right now, but once the political climate settles some more, who knows?”

Something bubbles up to the front of your mind, “Oh. Oh! Papyrus said you liked physics once. I guess it’s more of a passion for you than he let on.”

“heh, used to be. might be again. dunno yet.” He looks across the street, away from you. “anyhow, frisk and pap both seem to think you’re the bees’ knees.”

You tilt your head a bit, but then see the little buzzing insects around a flowerbox on the other side of the street. “Oh! hahah, good spot. Yeah, I’m pretty lucky two really cool people decided I’m interesting enough to look after.”

Sans hummed as you both watched the bees, “yeah, they’re both kinda neat folks. My bro’s the coolest though. biased, I know, but it’s true.”

“I can’t argue there,” you feel happy thinking about Papyrus, “He’s taken to school like a fish to water. I really love finally having a friend who’s so positive. Not that my roommate’s not cool, but she’s as tired as I am usually.”

“you got a roomie?” he hums, “then why spend time with my bro? surely you’ve got more in common with her?”

“Hah!” you actually laughed. “I’m a linguistics major, Sans. She’s a botanist. Her side of the room is covered in so many plants I have to take sinus medication 24/7. Nah, she’s a good person but we have nothing in common other than living space and shared love for cheesy family-friendly rom-coms.”

You had gotten so involved with watching a particular bee rolling around a tulip that you didn’t notice when Sans faced you again. “so if she decided to get into a fight, you wouldn’t back her up?”

“Oh, no, I’d pull her out and tell her off for fighting. But she’s always in the greenhouses or labs, so I doubt she’d find anybody to fight with even if she wanted to. More likely to squeak like a dog toy and hide, if we’re being totally honest,” you turn to Sans smiling, but his expression makes you freeze.

His lights were out and the haunting blankness of his huge sockets made you shudder.

“kid, you better be telling the truth. My brother’s the best, but people take advantage of his kindness. If you hurt him, you’re gonna have a bad time.”

Nope, you were not going to stand for that. Getting up, you bolted, and as soon as you made it back to your dorm, you texted Papyrus.

You: Papyrus, we need to talk about your brother.

Papy: WHAT HAS SANS DONE NOW? YOU TWO HAVE BARELY EVEN MET!

You: We talked today and he threatened me.

It takes more than two seconds for an answer. Clearly you’d managed to rattle Papyrus (heh).

Papy: TELL ME EVERYTHING.

You explain yourself, how you kept seeing Sans around when Papyrus wasn’t there, and the incident after your haircut today.

Papyrus doesn’t answer in text, and after a moment or two you get a call from him.

“Papyrus-“

“I AM MORE SORRY THAN WORDS CAN SAY FOR WHAT MY BROTHER DID TODAY.” His voice was hard and serious, something you’d never heard before. “I DON’T BLAME YOU IF YOU’D RATHER NOT TALK ANYMORE AFTER THIS, BUT I ASSURE YOU I WILL HAVE A SERIOUS DISCUSSION WITH HIM ABOUT WHAT HE DID. APPARENTLY, FROM WHAT I GATHER, HE DID THE SAME THING TO FRISK.”

He’d threatened a child?! Not just any child either, your COUSIN! Who saved his people from captivity! You were about to ask about that when Papyrus continued. “FRISK SAYS IT WAS JUSTIFIED, BUT I’M NOT SURE HOW. BUT YOU? YOU HAVE NEVER HARMED ME, NOR ANYONE ELSE, AND HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE IT. SO, NOW THAT I’VE SAID MY PIECE, WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

You have to turn your brain back on to think for a moment. Papyrus was very dear to you, he was sweet and lifted your spirits no matter what. Still, with a scary protective brother, you weren’t sure if you wanted to be near him anymore.

“Papyrus, I like you. You’re my best friend. But I can’t feel safe around Sans and I’m kind of scared to come to your house ever again. We still have classes together, but I think if we’re going to be friends still, we can only meet out in public or at my place.” Even saying that makes you nervous. Nobody’s ever done this before, threatening you just out of nowhere.

“THAT’S REASONABLE. I CAN HEAR HOW SCARED YOU ARE, Y/N, AND I’M….WELL, INCREDIBLY ASHAMED TO HAVE BEEN PART OF WHY YOU’RE FEELING THAT WAY. THIS WILL NOT GO UNSEEN TO, I SWEAR IT!”

Tears were starting to leak out of your eyes at this point, your adrenaline leaving you tired and scared, but you smile, “I have faith in you, Papyrus. Just…I’m just scared now. I’m gonna try to calm down and I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“YES, THAT IS A GOOD PLAN. TRY TO BE KIND TO YOURSELF UNTIL I CAN BE KIND TO YOU INSTEAD…” There was silence, and then a very soft, worried, “I love you.”

That was enough to get you sobbing, “I love you, too. Be safe.” You had to hang up now, and you curled up under your covers to hide from the world.

--

As soon as he hung up the phone, Papyrus quickly wiped his sockets. He, too, was crying at the thought of his dear friend, who he loved fiercely, being terrified and menaced by HIS BROTHER of all people. But he was going to fix this.

Yes, he’d been far too late to fix what happened with Frisk, and Frisk themselves didn’t seem too upset by it, but YOU certainly were. He could feel it in the way you’d spoken, how very close he’d been to losing his best friend. He still might lose them.

But he’s going to make the effort to try not to.

Taking several deep breaths, Papyrus left his room and went down the stairs. Sans was on the couch as he’d expected, flipping channels on their TV.

“hey bro, what’s up?” Sans had his normal expression, and it made Papyrus furious.

“BROTHER. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.”

Sitting up, Sans looks confused, “what do you mean?”

Papyrus took another breath, feeling his ribs fill to capacity with the cooling air that helped calm him, “SANS, I JUST GOT SEVERAL VERY FRIGHTENED TEXTS FROM Y/N, AND THEY WERE ABOUT YOU.”

Ah, there, the permanent smile on Sans’ face drooped significantly, “oh.”

“YES, OH.” Rubbing his sockets, as they had started burning like he was going to cry again, Papyrus asked, “DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT WHAT THIS WOULD DO TO ME BEFORE YOU THREATENED THEM? DO YOU EVER CONSIDER HOW THIS COULD HAVE MADE THEM SO FRIGHTENED THAT THEY NEVER SPOKE TO ME AGAIN? OR IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED? DO YOU WANT ME TO BE ALONE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, SANS?”

“n-no, no that’s…I don’t want you lonely, paps, I just want you to be safe.” Sans’ voice and eyelights were both small and shaky. Good, he realized how serious this was.

“I KNOW YOU DID THIS TO FRISK, TOO, AND I’M JUST…SANS, YOU CAN’T THREATEN PEOPLE WHO HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG!” He wanted to move, to do something dramatic, but Papyrus just couldn’t with the weight of his frustration and disappointment. “I LOVE THEM BOTH, AND YOU…YOU DON’T SEEM TO CARE WHAT YOU BREAK ON YOUR WAY TO WHAT YOU CONSIDER MY SAFETY. I’M AN ADULT, SANS, NO STRIPES ANYWHERE, AND I’D LIKE YOU TO TREAT ME LIKE ONE. I KNOW I’M OPTIMISTIC, I KNOW I’M SILLY, BUT THAT’S HOW I LIKE TO BE. I LIKE BEING A GOOD INFLUENCE FOR PEOPLE, AND IF THAT MEANS SOMETIMES I GET MY HEART BROKEN, THEN I LEARN, DON’T I?”

Sans was just staring at him, but he finally found his voice, “but paps, they aren’t like other folks. They’re humans, they have a lot more power and-“

“I KNOW THAT.”

Closing his mouth that had opened to argue, Sans listened. “SANS, DO YOU THINK I WASN’T SCARED WHEN FRISK CAME? I WAS TERRIFIED! I KNEW THEY COULD DUST US BOTH WITH A MOVE, BUT I HAD TO AT LEAST MAKE THE EFFORT TO SHOW THEM THAT WASN’T WHAT HAD TO HAPPEN. I WANTED TO CAPTURE THEM, YES, BECAUSE THAT WOULD HAVE MADE UNDYNE AND EVERYONE ELSE SO PLEASED WITH ME, GIVEN ME MORE OPPORTUNITES TO MAKE THE FRIENDS I WANTED. BUT…THEY LIKED ME.” Papyrus was at a loss. “THEY PLAYED ALONG WITH MY ACT AND SEEMED HAPPY WITH IT. SO I CHANGED MY MIND. I DIDN’T FORGET WHAT THEY COULD DO, WHICH IS WHY I TRIED TO GET UNDYNE TO BE FRIENDS WITH THEM, TOO. I DIDN’T WANT HER TO GET HURT EITHER, OR FOR HER TO HURT FRISK.”

Oh the tears were back and Papyrus scrubbed them away angrily, “BUT NOW I’M WONDERING IF I SUCCEEDED IN SPITE OF YOU! I’M WONDERING IF YOU DIDN’T THREATEN EVERY PERSON I’VE EVER TRIED TO BEFRIEND JUST OUT OF SOME TWISTED SENSE OF PROTECTION!”

Sans just looked at his hands, bones looking ashen as Papyrus tried to hold back his sobs. Had…had he been hurting Papyrus more than helping him all this time? Yeah, Frisk had posed a threat but the kid had made good. Really good, if he had to be honest. And he had seen nothing to really make Y/n any more dangerous than they were. And now Papyrus was crying.

“SANS, I DON’T BLAME YOU FOR BEING AFRAID OF WHAT HUMANS CAN DO TO US, BUT I AM DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU DON’T TRUST ME ENOUGH TO MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS ABOUT FRIENDS. IT HURTS, AND…AND EVEN THOUGH I’M SURE YOU DID IT OUT OF LOVE FOR ME I JUST CAN’T FORGIVE YOU FOR THAT RIGHT NOW,” sniffling a little, Papyrus couldn’t even look at his brother. “I’M GOING TO STAY WITH UNDYNE FOR A FEW DAYS. I HOPE YOU CAN LEARN HOW TO…WELL, NOT DO THIS AGAIN. THINK ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES MORE. SOMETHING.”

Escaping back up the stairs, Papyrus quickly packed three days’ worth of clothes and essentials, then ran out the door. He just couldn’t believe his older brother had betrayed his trust like this.

--

It was pretty awkward with you and Papyrus after that.

You tried to talk like normal, but he was sad, and you were scared.

Two months after the incident, you got sick of it. “Papy, let’s go to Bungle Land.”

“OH?” he perked a little, “WE HAVEN’T BEEN FOR A LONG TIME. OKAY.”

Grinning, you took his hand and ran to your car, giving him the option to drive if he wanted. He had his license, but just hadn’t gotten around to buying the perfect car for him. But he refused, wanting to save driving for his own dream car, so you let him move the passenger seat back as far as he liked while you drove to the local theme park.

And you had fun. Papyrus was an adrenaline junkie and took you on every ride, while you were a game shark, trying your hand at the carnival games and loving the useless and low quality plushies you won from them. You both had a lovely collection of little birds, though Papyrus had exchanged five of his for a larger plush of a super hero, more to his tastes, from this trip alone. Thank stars for your yearly pass, and the lovely guest vouchers that came with it.

Finally, as the sun was going down and you were hungry, Papyrus guided you toward one of the stands before a familiar voice made your heart freeze, “hey you two. Pretzels and lemonade?”

Papyrus’ expression soured, “SANS, DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS THE TIME FOR ONE OF YOUR ODD JOBS? WE WERE HAVING FUN.” He’d gotten an apology from Sans a while back now, and a Promise not to repeat his blunder, but he still wasn’t sure of Sans’ intentions for Y/n.

“I really didn’t think you’d be here today, pap, swear on my bones,” Sans looked exhausted and held up his hands. “but tell me what you want and I’ll make it while I do something I’ve been meaning to.”

You just say you want a pepperoni pretzel and a cherry lemonade, and Papyrus goes for a normal pretzel with a blue raspberry lemonade, but you’re nervous. The skeleton had threatened you, after all, even if your fear of him had mostly shifted to annoyance at his cheek in doing so.

Getting your food, Sans said softly, “I know I’m nobody’s favorite person right now, so I’ll make it short. I realized I’ve been overbearing, stepped over a lot of lines, and need to work on myself. I’m really sorry, y/n, for acting like you were going to hurt papyrus when I don’t even know you. it was wrong, and I’m going to try and see a therapist to get a hold on my…paranoia.”

That…was honestly one of the best and most sincere apologies you’d ever had. You can’t help smiling, and you can almost feel the pride radiating off Papyrus for his brother. “Okay, Sans. That was a proper apology, and you haven’t done any stalking that I’ve noticed so…apology accepted. I hope your therapy goes well.”

He looks so relieved, shoulders sagging noticeably, but his smile turns more genuine and he nods, “okie dokie. Go have fun, and I’ll see you at home, paps.”

“YES YOU WILL! YOU’RE GETTING THE IMPROVED VERSION OF SPAGHETTI TONIGHT FOR THAT!” It’s heartwarming to hear the excitement in his voice, and the brighter smile on his face, “YOU DID A GOOD THING! BYE, SANS!”

“Bye, Sans,” you add, and he waves you both off. Even if he was the one who finally apologized, you felt a weight off of yourself as well, and his gaze no longer made you feel like demons were on your back.

#fic #reader x papyrus

[morrigan-writings]

The God Father

Warning(s): none

A/N: Alright so this is a piece I wrote for an assignment a year ago, and I decided to go ahead and post it here because I was so happy with how it turned out (and I got an A!), and part of me wants to write some little blurbs that continue the concept.

Basically this is a fictional piece based on ACTUAL Norse mythology and NOT the Marvel versions. I got the idea for this off the writing prompt tumblr that was along the lines of "you write down Loki as your childs godparent as a joke, but he actually takes it seriously". I loved it so I used it. Enjoy!

PS -- I realized later that it maybe wasn't 100% clear, but Astrid was adopted, hence why she's "old enough" to play tea party, maybe 6-7. Only a handful of days passes over the duration of this piece.

It was all a joke, really. A complete farce, a “good laugh.” At least, that’s what it was meant to be. The Ohlsons had just welcomed their daughter, Astrid, into their lives, and they had crossed all the T’s, dotted all the I’s, but one last question remained: who to appoint as the girl’s  godparent? Erika and Ingrid Ohlson immediately turned to their respective families of course, but almost every option was eventually decided against. Both grandparents were already far up in years; Erika’s parents already living with an in-home nurse, and Ingrid’s own father refusing to ever speak to her. Erika was an only child, so Ingrid’s brother was next to be scrutinized. However, despite being close in age, he still acted a child in a grown man’s body, making poor investments, partying all weekend with numerous friends, moving from girlfriend to girlfriend. Absolutely not someone able to take care of a child (much less himself), and immediately scratched off the list. 

Friends were next, but...... there weren’t many options. The two new mothers weren’t incredibly social people to begin with, and as such only had a select few friends. A few were married with several children already, and Ingrid insisted they not add the potentiality of another child to the mix. Their other friends ranged from being either unequipped to raise a child, too busy with their own specific line of work, or just not close enough to be considered for godparent. Options had now all but disappeared, and the two women had resigned to perhaps just skipping over this particular notion.

About a week later, during an evening of movies and a couple drinks after putting the young Astrid to bed, Erika began giggling to herself, the sound growing to full-on laughter which she hastily struggled to stifle in the small apartment so as not to wake the child. Ingrid, simultaneously confused and curious, glanced over at her wife, a single brow raised.

“What in the god’s names has got you so hysterical?”

Pulling in a gulp of air, Erika turned to Ingrid, tears in her eyes. “Listen, okay, what- what if...... hear me out here- what if we......we......” she could still barely speak from her incessant giggling.

“Dear, please, what is it?” Ingrid sighed, her curiosity starting to eat at her.

“Okay...... okay so......” the woman finally composing herself to a degree. “What if, for just absolute shits and giggles....... what if we named a Norse god as godparent? Like a literal GODparent? Just, what if. For the hell of it.”

Ingrid, the resident librarian of the house, blinked. “You want us....... to name an ancient, all-powerful, Norse god of old..... as our daughter’s godparent?”

“Ingrid, hun, look: we have literally no options at this point. Maybe eventually we’ll have a friend become a better candidate later in the years, and if so, we’ll write them down as godparent instead. But for now..... come on, it’d be funny and it’d be an absolute hoot to see the look on people’s faces when we bring this up,” Erika then smiled more deviously, “plus I know you can’t pass up a good pun.”

Giving a smile of her own, Ingrid sighed. “Alright fine, lets do it. Which god did you have in mind?”

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

Deep in a labyrinthine cave, hidden away from the known world, sat two ancient beings whose existence had all but been forgotten and reduced to mere myth. A restrained fire giant, face scarred, auburn hair now matted and lank, with a monstrously large serpent sat poised above his head. His wife, Sigyn, a goddess in her own right, yet often left out in stories even in the days of old, sat ever faithfully by his side, her own face gaunt, exhaustion and fortitude lining every inch of it. In her own scarred hands she held a bowl aloft as the only barrier between his face and the beast above as venom drip, drip, dripped into the small basin, the sound now akin to what the mortals refer to as a clock, the deity’s only semblance of time. 

The god had long since lost his unhinged anger for this life sentence, had since devolved into simply being..... exhausted with the ordeal. Relieved that his wife remained by his side, but also guilty that she stayed in such a horrid place with such a tiring task despite having no orders herself to be here. He had grown weary, maybe a touch apprehensive, with the smallest hint of boredom even. They had been stuck down here for centuries now. Or at least physically. The god found he maintained his ability to project an astral form of himself wherever he wished, and this is what he utilized to learn of the world through the long years. He only wished he could share this illusion of escape with his spouse.

As the centuries passed, he watched as humanity started to turn from the old ways, began to write off the gods as only myths and legend, not beings worth worshiping any longer for the most part. He watched as the rest of the gods slowly accepted this and drew back into their homes amongst Asgard and Valhalla and even Hel, only sitting back up to take notice if something truly important occurred on Midgard, but otherwise ignoring it, as they themselves were ignored. And why shouldn’t they? There was virtually no point otherwise anymore. But today........ today somehow felt different. The imprisoned god cracked open an eye as something seemed to shift in his awareness. Not...... worship, not really. But..... something new. Someone, somewhere, it seemed, was inscribing him as a guardian. To their child. And for supposedly no particular reason that he could even fathom. This was definitely new. The god began chuckling quietly before he could stop himself, the whole concept incredibly humorous. 

However, before he could share this new discovery, that dreaded time came again when that hatefully small bowl filled to the brim, and Sigyn sucked in a sharp breath as she suddenly flew into motion like clockwork. She rushed to pull the bowl away and dump the acidic liquid before too much harm was caused before she could return to her original post, but it was never fast enough, it was impossible to be. The second the obstruction disappeared, the snake’s venom began dripping onto the imprisoned god’s face, his eyes and cheekbones burning with each drop as if on fire, bellows of pain being loosed from his lungs all the while. His wife returned the bowl to its original position, frantic and remorseful apologies spilling from her lips as always, him waving them off with a shake of his head and a forced smile. Once resettling, Sigyn peered down at her husband with curiosity. 

“What was it that made you laugh so genuinely after so long?”

He smiled once again, remembering. “The gods may no longer be revered as they once were, but.... a fascinating development has occurred in the mortal realm: I have apparently been named as guardian to a young child, for whatever reason.”

The goddess raised her brow in surprise. “Guardian? I mean no offense, my love, but surely it must be in jest? And as you stated, we both know worship is no longer practiced on Midgard, so why this sudden change?”

“No, I agree, I find the whole matter quite amusing. However. Due to the absurdity and the rarity, on the chance that this is meant sincerely in any way, I feel inclined to follow it through.  I am named guardian, I am now bound to comply, I believe.”

A warm smile, the first he’d seen in decades, grew upon his wife’s face, as even her dulled eyes began to slowly light up again at the idea he presented. “Then by all means, you should go. All I ask is for you to bring me back stories of this child when you return.”

He returned the smile, the same genuine warmth mirrored back to her. Letting out a long exhale, the god settled back onto his rock best he could, closed his eyes, and cast out his consciousness to the mortal world, empowered by the promise of new mischief to come. 

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

It had been only a couple days since Ingrid and Erika had filled out the paperwork to appoint their god of choice as the godparent to Astrid. As was anticipated, they were given a strange look from the clerk assisting them when he read the name. “A family friend,” Erika waved him off with a smile. The two new mothers had a good laugh on a the walk home that day, imagining all the potential hilarious scenarios in which to share this information.

Ingrid was playing tea party with Astrid as Erika was in the middle of cooking dinner when their doorbell rang. Intrigued as to who could possibly be visiting them at this time of night, Erika walked over and cracked the front door open, only just wide enough to see the person waiting outside. 

There in the hallway stood a man, nearly six and a half feet tall, with a lean build, and immaculately well groomed and dressed. A tailored suit was his attire of choice, a dark forest green, with gold buttons stamped with intricate designs, and cuff links that resembled a wolf’s head. His long, fiery red hair seemed to gleam faintly in the light as if metallic, the top half of it tied back out of his face, a couple small braids interspersed throughout. The man’s features were both fascinating and eerie, mostly made of sharp angles with smiling thin lips and darkened hazel eyes that almost seemed to flare gold (but it was probably just a trick of the lights). However, the only oddity about this figure was the scarring around said eyes, so faint you could only see it when the light hit his face just right, but still curious to see. 

While the strange man gave a tentative smile and made no move toward the open door, keeping his hands in his coat pockets, Erika had become confused into silence, trying to rapidly figure out just how to ask who the hell this man was in the politest way possible. Ingrid, also interested in who their late night visitor was, quietly came up behind her wife and peered past her shoulder to the figure outside. Ingrid, apparently, was quicker on the draw.

“Excuse me, but who are you? We weren’t expecting anyone this late, we’re in the middle of dinner.”

The stranger smiled knowingly, bowing his head slightly. He raised one hand up toward his face, snapping his fingers and causing a small flame to ignite above his index finger, pulling a gasp from one of the women.

“I do apologize for the late hour, unfortunately the concept of time has slowly left me over the years. But I am Loki of the Aesir, and I do believe I am young Astrid’s godfather.”

#loki #norse mythology #original story #norse gods #sigyn

[katobobato]

In which you Jin reminisce about your childhood memories and how you slowly fell in love.

pairing: jin x reader

fluff, angst, oneshot

warnings: none :)

word count: 1748 words

rating: G

Today had been just any old normal day. You and your long-term boyfriend turned fiancé, Jin, were discussing your wedding plans with your parents once again. You and your mother were discussing who would sit with who. Obviously, you both decided to separate Jin and Jungkook, at least for the meal. Neither of you wants to put up with that chaotic duo more than you had to. Your father and Jin, however, were just sitting around and discussing the bachelor party plans.

Your parents were about to leave but not before your mum quickly slipped a little something out of her bag. You had wondered why she had such a big bag with her and now you knew, she was hiding a whole photo album in there. She had passed it to you as she backed out of the door, blowing kisses to you and Jin as your father beckoned her along saying that they would be seeing you again in a few days anyway and need to get going because it’s getting late.

You closed the door behind you and sighed, “I love them, but they really do drain you”.

“They’re just excited”. Jin explained upon wrapping you into a hug and resting his head on top of yours.

You moved away from the hug when you remembered the book that you were now hugging against your own chest, “I wonder what mum has put together this time”.

You had assumed it would be cute little baby pictures of you because that was what she normally did. At every new milestone in your life, she had put together a little collection of baby pictures just to remind you that you were still her little girl.

She had done it when you began high school, again when you graduated, then again when moved out and went to college. It was tradition.

You tried to insist that you would look through it tomorrow but Jin had whined like the giant child he is and grabbed the book out of your hands, running over to the sofa and opening the pages in hopes of finding more cute pictures of baby you.

You had gathered that he had found something unexpected from how quiet he was from the moment his eyes landed on the first page.

“What is it? What did she do this time?”. You chuckled, flicking the main light off and making your way over to sit beside him.

“I’m in this one too”.

You flicked the lamp on and snuggled up into Jin as he positioned you between his arms so that you could see the pages too.

He was right. He is in this one too.

Pictures of both of you as babies and as you turned the pages you found that each page held a different year of memories. You kept going, cooing at how cute you both were, until you reached around the time you had met.

“Woah, the first day of school”. Jin exclaimed, pointing to the pictures of the both of you in your brand-new uniforms for your first day of high school.

It was the day you two first met.

“Don’t worry sweety, you’ll make plenty of friends”. Your mother insisted, ushering you closer to the intimidatingly tall doors of the school.

“But what if they don’t like me? What if I don’t like them?”. You asked, the anxiety kicking in.

Your mother once again reassured you that you were going to make plenty of friends and gave you one final hug before waving you off as you walked through the doors with the flood of other students.

It took an excruciatingly long five minutes before you made a friend. Not long after that, your new friend had introduced you to her friends and the small group of you quickly turned into a big group.

In that big group, was Jin.

You thought he was overdramatic, obnoxious and absolutely hilarious. You were fast friends, to say the least.

You were friends but not that close, not close enough to hang out without some of the others. No, that came later.

“We were so tiny”. Jin chuckled.

“And so awkward”. You joined in his laughter.

You then flipped to the next page, your second year of being friends. It was about the same as the first, you had grown used to each other, but your big group had split up into many smaller ones. You in one and Jin in another.

A few pages later and you were in photos together again.

Your transition from children to awkward teens almost complete as you neared the middle of your high school days.

By the summer all of your friends knew that you had a crush on him and all of his knew about his crush on you. The two of you, however, were oblivious. Both stealing glances of the other every now and then throughout lessons and even gatherings between your friends.

By the summer, Heejin, your first friend, had set you and Jin up on a date.

“I wonder where she is”. You pondered out loud, awkwardly trying to create conversation with your crush as the two of you waited for your friend.

She never came. Just a message of apology and that you and Jin should just hang out together.

That was when you knew what she had done. Silly Heejin.

Well, you had thought silly Heejin as you expected to be too awkward to actually hang out with Jin on your own. That, however, was not the case.

His constant stupid dad jokes and determination to make you laugh cast away all of the tension you had been feeling at first like a magical spell.

That day, your first ‘date’ was always engraved into your memories.

You had hung out all-day, laughing and chatting together for hours on end. You had walked all around the town and were glad to have brought your camera.

Dozens of photos of the two of you.

A photo of Jin happily chasing a flock of pigeons.

A photo of you with ice cream on your nose after Jin had comedically shoved it into your face when you went to take a bite. You could still smell the vanilla.

Photos of the pair of you hanging upside down on the monkey bars at the park after dark.

Photos that were now in this book. All neatly collected together with cute little doodles reminiscing the old times covering the blank spaces between the paper memories.

Jin softly stroked your hair as you took command of the book, flipping over to the next page.

Graduation. You were finally almost adults about to embark on your journey to college.

You had been dating for a year at that point, an official couple.

“What are we going to do?”. Your voice sounded distraught, desperate, almost hopeless.

Jin stepped closer, brushing your hair behind your ear. His hand lingering beside your cheek.

“Don’t worry, long distance can work. We’ll be together again before you know it”. He reassured, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Jin was going to college in Busan, you in Incheon. Sure, it was only a two or so hour flight but you were going to be busy with your studies not to mention tight on money.

He really made you think it was possible and for the first year, it was.

By your second it was just too hard. You had an argument about something silly, decided that your relationship must come to an end and he hung up.

The empty beeps on the other end of the line were enough to send waterfalls falling down your cheeks.

His hand made its way to yours, squeezing lightly as you both remembered the ill-fated past.

You turned the page.

Christmas at home, without Jin.

It was miserable but you wouldn’t show it. In every photo, you would be laughing or smiling but there was always something missing. The joy in your eyes.

That Christmas was a sad one. Passing in a slow blur of twinkling lights and joyful melodies.

It took another couple of page turns before the pit in your stomach started to feel warm again.

Four years of college over, finally coming home.

Back without Jin.

You unpacked your things, living in your own apartment upon your return.

Your parents had left for merely five minutes before the door knocked again.

Mum must have forgotten something, you thought.

You hadn’t expected him to be on the other side of that door.

Nor had you expected to be kissed so passionately the day you returned.

“I’m so so sorry”. He mumbled, hugging you so tightly you could barely breathe.

After a moment, you hugged him back.

His thumb grazed over the back of your hand, his head resting in your hair.

The next few pages displayed some of the best years of your life. You and Jin, together again.

Spending Christmas together with both of your families. Laughter and joy. Cuddles near the fire.

The final page, the day Jin proposed.

He was down on one knee and you knew what was coming, “Y/n, will you marry me?”.

“No”. You stated so abruptly that even he was caught off guard.

He looked shocked, worried, scared.

Until you laughed. Laughed hard.

“Of course, I will”. You giggled, proud of your amusing joke.

“Really”. His face lit up once again.

All you could do was nod and giggle to yourself as he swept you up in a hug, spinning you around.

How cliché. How perfect.

And here you are now, ogling the new shiny ring on your finger.

You closed the book, leaving the blank pages to be filled another day.

“I love you”. You announced softly, nuzzling back into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to the top of your head, placing the photo album to the side and swiftly wrapping his arms around you again.

“I know, who wouldn’t love me? I’m just so handsome”.

You spun around, slapping his arm as he snickered happily.

“I love you too”. He chuckled, finally giving you the answer, you wanted with tears in his eyes.

You shook your head at his childishness and closed your eyes.

Content between the warm arms of your fiancé, you fell asleep wondering what the future holds for the two of you.

#btswriterscollective #fan fiction #oneshot #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #jin #kim seokjin #seokjin #seokjin fluff #bts #btsfic #btsjin #bts jin

[buckthegrump]

Helpless

Summary: We were at a revel with some rebels on a hot night. (based off of Helpless and Satisfied from Hamilton)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, that’s it

Word count: 1875

A/n: I was listening to Hamiton recently and really have been putting this off since i started writing again because everyone and their mother have written a story based off this song but you can’t stop me!!!!

Bucky wanted to kill Steve. Steve knew that he hated parties, especially Stark parties. There were too many people that would ask him about his time in the war like he wasn’t a prisoner of war for almost 80 years.

All the Avengers were there, even though who seemed to only show up when he thought that the Earth-bound Avengers were having too much fun without him, not that Buck could really blame him. If Bucky was being honest, he’d love to go to space and just explore see the sights.

He was about to sneak out when Steve came up beside him.

“Here,” Steve set a glass in front of him, “It’s Thor’s alcohol so it will work on us.”

“Thank,” Bucky deadpanned.

“Dude, at least try to have fun,” Steve groaned childishly.

“I would be having fun if there was any fun to be had,” Bucky said sipping the drink that was a lot stronger than he’d been expecting.

“There are plenty of people to talk to,” Steve raised his eyebrows a few times suggestively, “and there are plenty of good looking women around.”

“Please as if all those women haven’t had you clocked since the moment you walked in,” Bucky laughed.

“So you just gotta find one that hasn’t seen me yet,” Steve shrugged.

Steve was a little cocky asshole at parties, which was probably the only silver lining to this outing because Bucky was finding it hilarious.

“Ok, next woman that walks in is mine,” Bucky joked.

Steve laughed. Bucky was mid-laugh when you walked in and he froze. Your entire ensemble was elegant and Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d been rendered speechless by a woman.

Before he could say or do anything, he watched as Steve made his way to you confidently.

Bucky watched as his friend introduced himself and you smiled at him. For a moment Bucky forgot how to breathe at the sight of your smile. He wished he was at the other end of it. But he wasn’t. If this had been the forties he would’ve been and you probably wouldn’t have even given Steve a second glance.

And Bucky felt horrible about this but, he kind of wished it was the forties, just for a moment. Just a moment back when he hadn’t been destroyed by HYDRA back when he was confident and could talk to women.

But he pushed all that aside and tried to be happy for Steve and his newfound bravery.

Bucky watched as Steve offered you his arm and you took it. Bucky let out a melodramatic sigh knowing that Steve was about to sweep you off your feet.

So he stood there feeling just so utterly. . . helpless.

/

“Ok, next woman that walks in is mine,” Bucky joked.

Steve laughed but as he watched you walk in he stopped. He put a smile on his face and made a beeline for you before Sam or someone else did.

“Are you a new friend of Tony’s?” Steve asked suavely.

You chuckled with a bright smile on your face.

“My sister is but she couldn’t make it tonight so I came in place of her,” you said.

“Sister?”

“Well, best friend but we’ve been so since we were in diapers so yes, sister.”

Steve didn’t really know what to say next so he just stood there and smiled at you.

“So,” you smoothed out your dress around your hips, “do you always interrogate new arrivals without introducing yourself or is that something special just for me?”

“Sorry,” Steve stuck out his hand for you, “Steve Rogers.”

You took his hand, “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Enchanté.” Steve bowed slightly and brought your hand to his lips and gave it a small kiss.

You giggled at his efforts and pulled your hand away, but you didn’t look mad you looked entertained.

“Are you always so,” you paused looking for the word, “charming?”

“No,” he answered honestly.

“Oh, well now I feel truly special.”

Steve laughed at you and then turned. His smile faltered slightly when he caught a glimpse of Bucky standing exactly where he’d left him. Bucky was standing at a table and he was staring at you, he had this expression on his face that Steve had never seen before. Bucky turned his attention to Steve briefly and that told Steve everything that he needed to know.

If love at first sight, was a real thing, then Bucky was living proof. He appeared to be head over heels for you already. He looked helpless like he wanted to let Steve have this but he couldn’t stop himself.

Steve quickly turned to you with a new air about him.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, your smile had all but disappeared.

“Yes, there’s just someone I’d like for you to meet,” Steve said and offered you his arm.

“Ok,” you said slowly but took his arm anyway.

Steve started leaning you to Bucky. Steve wanted to laugh at the sight of his best friend panic a bit when he noticed what Steve was doing.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked your smile made its way back on your face.

“I’m about to change your life,” Steve whispered.

“Such promises,” you teased.

The walk back to Bucky was a weird moment in time for Steve, it went by too quickly but seemed to last forever.

Steve watched as your eyes locked with Bucky’s.

“This is my best friend Bucky Barnes,” Steve said pridefully, “Bucky, this is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Bucky said breathlessly.

You smiled at him, it was bigger and somehow brighter than the one you’d given Steve.

“Hi,” you said.

“So what brings you to a Stark party?” Bucky asked.

The two of you had clearly forgotten that Steve was even there.

“Well, my sister was supposed to work this party but she got sick so sent me instead.”

“In that case thank you for your service.”

“If it takes a bad sandwich for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” you joked.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Steve said and bowed out gracefully.

As months passed and you and Bucky started getting closer and even started dating, Steve couldn’t stop the pang in his chest of remorse of letting you go. Deep down he knew that if he were to talk to Bucky say that he was truly in love with you, Bucky wouldn’t get in his way. But he couldn’t do that to his best friend. Hell, you two were writing letters to each other, actual letters that came in the mail. The team made fun of Bucky for being so old fashioned but the smile on his oldest friend face told Steve that Bucky didn’t care.

So he’d keep his feeling to himself and settle for just keeping you in his life as his friend.

/

Bucky would never know what possessed Steve to introduce you to him but he was forever grateful.

Bucky knew that Steve probably regretted his choices from that night but Bucky wasn’t about to let you go. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

You and Bucky were sitting on the couch of your shared apartment 3 years later. You were really into whatever you were doing on your laptop and Bucky was supposed to be reading some paperwork Stark had given him, but he couldn’t focus. Not while you were focused on your task at hand, you had the cutes concentration face.

You must have sensed Bucky’s gaze because without looking away from your computer you asked, “What?”

“Marry me,” Bucky said abruptly.

You snapped your head to look at him, “What?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything,” Bucky said realizing what he’d just done.

“No, no, no, just say it again,” you said as smirk made its way onto your face.

Bucky put the paperwork on the coffee table and pulled out the ring he’d been carrying around in his pockets for months. He leaned over to you and held it out.

“Will you marry me?” He asked this time.

“Yes,” you said your smirk turned into a full on smile.

“Really?” Bucky asked still a little unsure.

“Yes, of course,” you squealed and placed the ring on your finger.

Bucky didn’t give you a chance to really admire it before he’s pulled you off the couch and kissing you. He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bedroom.

A week or so later Tony had insisted on throwing Bucky and you an engagement party. Bucky was about to refuse but then you told Tony to go for it because you needed a good excuse to party and Bucky wasn’t really one to say no to you.

Just as dinner was being served Sam stood and held up his champagne glass and tapped it lightly with his knife.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said claiming the attention of the room as a hush fell over the crowd, “Now I know that Bucky hasn’t officially asked me to be his best man -”

“I wasn’t going to,” Bucky called and everyone laughed.

“Funny Barnes,” Sam rolled his eyes but continued, “But I just want to say how happy I am that you found Y/n because she makes you bearable, and dare I say it, a little fun.”

Everyone laughed again and you gave Bucky a quick peck on his lips. Before the crowd got rowdy again Steve stood up.

“As Bucky’s actual best man,” Steve said as he glared at Sam who shrugged and sat down, “I’d like to propose a toast to the future bride and groom. I’ll save all my best Bucky stories for the actual wedding -”

“Please do,” you called with a laugh and Bucky playfully poked your side.

“But I just want to say, I hope you two will always be satisfied,” Steve raised his glass and everyone followed suit and drank.

Half an hour later you and Bucky were talking to Steve.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “Steve wait here.”

Before either of the men could ask what you were doing you were off in a flash.

Bucky chuckled and turned back to his friend.

“Thank you,” he said.

Steve cocked a brow, “For what?”

“The only reason I’m here today is because you introduced us at that party 3 years ago.”

“Well, what are best friends for,” Steve smiled, “But I hope this means that I will, in fact, be your best man.”

“Well I can’t have Sam do,” Bucky said not attempting to keep his voice down at all.

“I heard that,” Sam called from just a few feet away.

“You were meant to!” Bucky called back.

You reappeared dragged someone behind you.

“Steve,” you said a little winded, “This is my best friend and basically sister, Peggy.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes took in the beautiful brunette standing next to you. He’d recognize that look Steve currently had on his face.

“Hi,” Steve whispered.

“Hi,” Peggy responded.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Bucky said an ushered you away.

Bucky knew that look in Steve’s eyes because it was the same look he was sure was on his face the first time he laid eyes on you. Steve looked utterly helpless.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #Steve Rogers x reader #steve x reader #Steve Rogers Imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you

[all-about-wannaone]

3/100 Ways To Say I Love You

Pairing: Ong Seongwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff 

Prompt: “No, no, it’s my treat.” 

Words: 3587

A/N: Hello readers! I know that I have been pretty inactive in the past week and that is because I was in Japan and did not take my laptop with me for the week’s getaway. :( For those who are still waiting for your ships and requests, I have started working on them and will post them soon so this Ong Seongwoo scenario would serve as the easing into the motion as I get back to my usual activity. :) Thank you all for being so patient and supportive with me and I hope that this does not disappoint. :) Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more of this series coming up soon! 

“I hope the study session was productive today. I know it’s a little heavy on the content, but I bet you could at least remember one concept… right?” Seongwoo asked, sounding slightly concerned.

“Y-yeah,” I stammered, taking a while to comprehend what he was saying. You see, Seongwoo and I had just spent 5 solid hours in the school’s library, focusing solely on the many concepts of Chemistry (whose names I could never remember) and Advanced Mathematics. And these were the two brain draining subjects that I neither loved or hated, but what I did know was that these were my worst subjects in the recent examination. In fact, I was far from the passing mark and it was as if my entire world had come crashing down on me when I received my results.

My parents went ballistic at my grades, breathing down my neck and telling me the importance of doing well in my studies, just so that I could aim for the top 3 universities once I graduated. They had begun to research on well-known cram schools and tutors, who charged an arm and a leg, but they were willing to do anything at this point to make sure that I pulled up my socks and score the grades that they wanted.

Unfortunately, cram schools had only given me even more pressure, especially when I was surrounded by students from the elite high schools such as Daewon Foreign Languages High School; they could conquer the entire Ivy League if they wanted to; or Anyang High School; they could get into the local universities easy, just with their grades alone. Hence, perhaps this was the reason why my grades fell even more, just due to the immense pressure alone.

“Hmm,” Ms Jung, my homeroom teacher, pondered during a short check-in session, as she looked at the possible options I had to improve and look ahead, “If cram schools do not seem to be aiding you in your learning, how about asking one of your classmates for help? Considering that all of you are students, and what more in the same class, perhaps the both of you could empathise and understand each other better.”

“B-but I don’t really talk to the class very much though…?”

“I know you’re soft spoken, I really do,” Ms Jung replied in an empathetic manner, “but this is the best way, in my opinion, for you to get a grasp of your learning gaps before moving onto the second year.”

I sighed at the thought, and even though I hated to admit it, I had to agree. It was probably the most effective way, especially when I had gone through too many experiences with teachers who gave no two hoots towards those lagging behind.

“Okay, the most I could do for you is to consult a student from the class. I’m pretty sure they’ll be more than willing to help you.” She said in an assuring manner, patting me on the back with a warm smile.

And so she did, and I had to admit that she was probably the most efficient teacher that I had ever met, because it only took me 4 days to receive a message from an unknown number.

“Hey. This is Y/N right? Ms Jung just consulted me this morning about advanced math and chemistry, asking me whether I was more than willing to tutor you. When do you want to start?”

I was beyond confused when I saw the message, so I replied, meaning no harmful intent, “Uh… yes this is Y/N, but who is this?”

“Wow, do you not save your classmate’s numbers? I’m offended.” The reply came in a flash, followed by another message, “Anyway, this is Ong Seongwoo.”

Ah… Ong Seongwoo.

Truth be told, he was indeed the epitome of a true surprise and the reason why one should not judge a book by its cover.

He was popular with the ladies (shouldn’t it be extremely popular), the volleyball team’s ace libero and could easily charm his way through a woman’s heart. It was a given that the students would oggle over him; the ideal man for the girls and an object of envy for the other boys. Sometimes, it was often rumoured that even the teachers loved him, especially when he was truly “drop dead gorgeous”.

Hence, to most, he appeared as the resident’s “fuckboy”, perceived to lead wild lifestyles, have an affluent background and probably flunked every single class in the process. However, Seongwoo was pretty much the opposite. He was, what we called, a closet mugger, and he studied hard and well. In fact, he was probably born brilliant since he could understand concepts effortlessly, and could probably score stellar grades despite having no sleepless nights or experiences of burning the midnight oil; which was a norm amongst high school students.

I suppose that was the reason why Ms Jung had assigned me to Seongwoo. He was the top student of the class in terms of his overall grades, second in the cohort and the A-star student in both Chemistry and Advanced Math. There was no other way around it, and besides, even though I had not spoken a single word ever in the year, he was still nice enough to offer his help anyway.

Therefore, we scheduled a time, making an appointment on a Wednesday at 3pm, and I had to say that the first meeting was extremely awkward. I knew he was good looking, but seeing his sharp features up close would make anyone turn into a blushing mess. However, the vibe that he gave was one filled with seriousness and it was intense, but he had every right to, especially when he was going to teach a student who was “significantly weaker” than him.

Indeed, he was baffled with what I did not know, asking me what I did not know from the syllabus first. In retrospect, I was probably confident in 10% of the entire syllabus and the rest passed by like a blur to me throughout the year. Like I said before, there were many teachers that I met who cared nothing for the weaker students, accounting for the state that I was currently in.

Nevertheless, he kept his cool (surprisingly) and sighed, before saying in a slightly dejected, but determined tone, “So… I guess we’ll just refresh your memory on the basics for today. Your foundation, as of now, is nowhere near stable, so before we can advance any further, these are all the things that you would need to know.”

Wow. Harsh.

As time went by, we started to meet more and more often, especially with me having to sit for a foundation test to see if I needed to change classes or not. Hence, for some strange reason, he was all the more determined to teach me, making sure that I knew everything to the point that I could spill all the information in the textbook, word for word.

Thankfully, in that span of time, I had also gotten to know Seongwoo a little better than what I had already known from all the gossips and rumours that were often present in the corridors. When he was not burying his head in the books, he loved to joke around with his friends, showing me videos of all the pranks that he had elaborately planned out, just to capture all of their reactions. God knows what ran through his mind at times, but he would show all these videos to me in the quiet library and it took me all not to laugh out loud at all of them.

There were days when we had forgotten where we were, only to realise the librarian staring daggers into our souls, but all Seongwoo had to do was to reciprocate with a small polite smile, which had also caused her to get a little flustered.

Indeed, behind that suave exterior, Seongwoo was just like any other teenage boy; playful, fun-loving, spontaneous and it was indeed a mystery to how he could excel in school without even trying.

At the end of the day, we ended up becoming pretty close friends and study sessions soon escalated to spending time with each other during lunch, sharing little snippets of our lives and laughing at all the embarrassing and hilarious moments that we captured. Sometimes, it went beyond the superficial and he was there throughout the triumphs and tribulations.

When I was sick, he came over with warm chicken soup in a thermal container. When I was sad, he was a shoulder to cry on, and all he had to do was to provide a comforting arm placed around my shoulder, assuring me that things will get better. When it was my time of the month, he knew exactly what cheered me up; dark chocolate (lots of it), caramel ice cream bars and instant noodles. Eventually, my mother had begun to approve of him, and it was clear that he too clicked with my mother.

“He’s such a nice boy, Y/N. Is he your boyfriend?”

Yep, she was that straightforward.

“Eomma, of course not,” I would laugh awkwardly after that, and she would only squint her eyes at me saying that there was no way she was going to believe it, “He’s… a little too out of my league and besides, isn’t grades more important now?”

She nodded in approval, but that was after she had given me a hint of what she had hoped for, “I understand how you must be feeling, but then again, I can’t stop your heart right?”

Feelings aside, after months of hard work and progress monitoring from the sharp eye of Seongwoo, I had taken my foundation tests quite smoothly and it was finally the day when I would find out whether I needed to be transferred to another class. As Ms Jung read out the names of the students who had taken the tests, Seongwoo closed his eyes and kept his hands together, possibly praying to all the Gods out there that I would pass it. I chuckled at the sight, but kept it together when Ms Jung called my name.

“And finally, Y/N…” I was still standing at this point, anxious to find out how I had performed. My palms were clammy and I swore I could have broken out in cold sweat at the anticipation. Ms Jung sighd at first, and it was as if all hope was lost, but her lips began to curve upwards and she said in a calm, yet proud, manner, “Good job Y/N. You scored the highest in the class for Advanced Math and second in Chemistry. Congratulations.”

That was when I heard loud cheering and a resounding applause from Seongwoo. Despite the fact that he was now faced with judgemental and surprised gazes from my classmates, he paid no attention, shooting me a thumbs up and a proud expression for my performance.

I mouthed a “thank you” to him and smiled at the rest of my class, bowing here and there to all who had congratulated me. Sitting down, I whipped out my phone immediately as I felt a vibration from my pocket.

“Good job Y/N. I’m so proud of you. Keep aiming high and just know that I’ll always be here for you when you need me. Let’s go out for dinner soon as a celebration okay? Indeed, never underestimate Mr Ong’s intelligence.”

I scoffed and shook my head, shooting him a glance and there he was, still with a cocky grin plastered on his face. On the contrary, I could still tell that he was proud of my achievements, and the same went for his own milestones, considering that he had mentioned to me that he was a terrible teacher. Hence, I was beyond grateful that the fruits of the labour was worth it after all, and it was mutual too.

Sadly, we started to lose touch eventually, especially when we were out of class. Sure, we still met up to study and acknowledged each other with an energetic wave in class, but that was about it for the initial start of the second year. We never really shared a common lunch break anymore, especially when our teachers started to band us according to our grades. When he left the class, he would shoot me a sad smile, and I’d just reciprocate the gesture, but wished him all the best through text anyway. Furthermore, he had started to prepare for his the upcoming volleyball tournaments anyway and they trainee for 6 days a week, juggling both their academics and ready for the big games ahead. He preferred to catch some shut eye, and in all honesty, I could not blame him.

After what seemed like an eternity, I had finally received a text from him, asking if I wanted to study with him and without hesitation, I replied with a “Yes!” and I felt my spirit brighten at the thought. Indeed, when one had a friend who brought a drop of happiness to one’s life all the time, it was a little difficult when they were not around anymore, even if it was just temporary.

So here we were, seeking refuge in a traditional korean fast food restaurant, flipping through the brightly coloured menu to see what they offered. I looked up, and noticed that Seongwoo was clearly ogling at all the pictures that the owners had so strategically placed. It made one’s mouth water with the sight of tangsooyook, wholesome doshiraks and golden chicken tenders, and it was clear to see why this was a popular food chain amongst all the high school students of Seoul.

“Good evening sir and welcome to our restaurant! Could I start you off with anything?” A chirpy waitress with the brightest smile greeted.

“Actually… We are ready to order.”

“Oh, of course, what would you like to have then? I can assure you that we only serve top-quality products and if you would like some recommendations, I would not mind to give the both of you some suggestions as well.”

Hearing that, he rattled on his order and I was a little surprised to hear how much he could eat, and most importantly, the price of the items he had ordered. They were not expensive individually, no, but with the seemingly endless list, it was hard to tell how much it would cost in total.

“So that will be 1 serving of tangsooyook, 2 servings of premium doshiraks, 1 serving of mixed mandoo, 1 serving of kimchi jjigae, 2 bottles of Chinsung Cider and finally, to end it all off, an Oreo bingsoo with chocolate and vanilla ice cream?”

He nodded and I was already fumbling for my wallet in my bag, but I was way too slow to possibly go dutch, especially when he had already handed in his debit card before she could even tell us what the price was. He smiled at me when he did so, eyes turning into two crescent moons and whipped out his phone to scroll through his Instagram and Twitter feed.

“Hey… Uh.. How much is it? It’s only right if I pay you back —“

“No, no. It’s my treat. Don’t worry about it. You deserve it, especially after working so hard for those stellar results.”

“T-thanks Ong but it was all thanks to you really. Without you, who knows where I would have been at this point?”

“Sure, I would like to take some credit for your great success,” he said proudly, but reverted back to his soft and gentle tone, “but at the end of the day, you were the one sitting for the papers anyway. Until now, I’m still proud of you and it’s good to know that you’re doing well now.”

And that was when I looked to see a beautiful smile that just made him even more handsome than he already was. Despite knowing him for so long, I still felt a familiar warmth spreading through my cheeks and ears and I cleared my throat awkwardly. My heart started to palpitate against my chest and I leaned back against the booth, attempting to calm myself down.

“Hi! Here’s your food and enjoy your meal!” The waitress was back again, holding onto a huge circular tray of food probably fit for a king. She arranged the food gently and nicely, but she was quick and said before running back to her station, “Here you go, picture worthy, don’t you think? Anyway, have a great night and if you need anything, just give me a call!”

It was amazing how she was still so enthusiastic, even if she was just simply serving customers and taking down their orders, without even stopping to rest for a bit and catch a breather. How I wish I was like that when I attended school too.

“Here, eat up.” Seongwoo said, proceeding to stack my side plate with two serving spoons full of tangsooyook and I thanked him for his kind gesture, “Like I said, you deserve it anyway.”

And that was how our sumptuous meal had gone as we spent time relishing in the taste of the food and caught up with each other at the same time. I knew of the fact that his team had attained a gold medal at the recent interschool games, but it was a whole different story hearing it from the player itself. He opened up about his highest moments, as well as his lowest, and told me hilarious anecdotes throughout the course of the dinner.

As for me, there was nothing much to say, especially when I was only a member of the school’s editorial club, publishing magazines containing updates of the school as well as taking photographs for the magazine itself. Hence, I resorted to spending most of my time actively listening to Seongwoo’s stories initially, before opening up about my recent experiences in the editorial team. In fact, I had also mentioned that the copies were well on its way, showing him a picture that a friend of mine had managed to catch from his volleyball finals.

“Oh wow, could you take pictures like that too?” He asked, after the photograph had piqued his interest, with a curious tone.

“I… can try, I guess? I’m still new to the whole photography notion, but I suppose I could try it sometime.”

“Could I be your model then?”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, nodding, and once again, he exuded the vibes of a boy who had just gotten his very first christmas present. It was clear he was excited, chewing on his food happily with a wide smile on his face.

In the end, we ended up spending more time in the restaurant than we should have, surprised to find out that they were about to close for the night, as well as the fact that we had sat in the restaurant for quite a long while too. After an enthusiastic goodbye from the waitresses, we took our leave and made our way to the train station to get home.

We were in a state of comfortable silence as we walked, taking in deep breaths of the cool spring air and feeling the gentle wind against our faces. The city lights had also attracted our attention, and hence, we spent a little bit of time admiring the sights around us in silent awe. Furthermore, I had never been to this area of Seoul, hence all these sights seemed to give a different vibe, even if they could be selling the same things at the end of the day.

Now, it was the time to part ways, simply because we were going in two directions now. I was heading towards Myeongdong and beyond, while he was heading off to Apgujeong. Thankfully, our trains were not arriving so soon, and we took a seat right in the middle of the vast and relatively empty train station.

“Thanks for the dinner today.” I said, breaking the silence, and he smiled in response, “I’m glad you enjoyed it Y/N. Let’s… come back again, shall we?”

And I nodded, before hearing the sudden familiar whirring of the train tracks, signalling that my train was going to come any minute now. I stood up, but I only felt a tug on my wrist and turned around, only to be faced with an endearing gaze from Seongwoo. Strangely, I could sense a tinge of shyness, which was unlikely from a boy that confident.

“B-before you go,” he stammered, “I j-just wanted to tell you to be safe, get home as quick as you can and… uhh… text me once you’re home. If anything happens, j-just g-give me a call.”

“Sure,” I replied, and started to move away as he loosened his grip, “Don’t worry Ong, I’ll be home before you know it and I’ll be sure to get home in one piece. Be safe on your way home too and I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

He nodded with a small smile, finally realising that he needed to let me go so that I could get onto the train. Nevertheless, I faced the station anyway and noticed that he had made a heart shape with his arms as the train took its leave. Hence, I reciprocated the gesture shyly and gave a final wave, before heading back home to retreat for the night.

#produce 101 #produce101 #broduce101 #broduce 101 #produce 101 season 2 #pd101s2 #wanna one #ong seongwoo #wanna one imagine #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenario #wanna one scenarios #wanna one au #wanna one aus #ong seongwoo scenario #ong seongwoo scenarios #ong seongwoo imagine #ong seongwoo imagines #ong seongwoo au #ong seongwoo aus #ong seongwu #kang daniel #park jihoon #lee daehwi #kim jaehwan #park woojin #lai guanlin #yoon jisung #hwang minhyun #bae jinyoung

[saintlaurnet]

Sinners Crawl ♡ Bill Skarsgård

an unnamed bill skarsgård random (and extremely long) imagine/fanfic.

warnings: murder (is this a spoiler? lol). swearing. 

word count: 2.245 

notes: this is awful and extremely random ugh. I just wanted to write something related to the amazingly sweet Bill Skarsgård tbh. it’s an AU and I honestly don’t know if it’s going to be a Bill x reader thing or if I should explore the O.C lane. it might be a part one for a little something so… feedback is requested and appreciated! (also, let me know if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes bc I didn’t review it as expected and also because it’s late af lmao). <3

He killed her.

It’s almost impossible for me to catch my breath, to get any clue of where I might be. It has been two hours since we got the first call, and I haven’t stopped walking ever since. For the first time in two decades, I’m utterly lost. 

This can’t be right. It’s not real. Just like any other thing in my stupid, useless life, it doesn’t make any sense. I might be suffering from a badass hallucination. It has happened before, so it wouldn’t be a complete shock if it’s happening right now. 

We are best friends. Family, almost. We wouldn’t hurt each other like that, it’s ridiculous. To suppose that one of us caused the other’s death is so incredibly immature that I shouldn’t even be considering this as a hypothesis.

But I am. And this is one of the main reasons why I feel like my brain is about to explode.

Snow falls unceasingly against my warm skin, from a sky I don’t remember ever seeing before. Unlike my very own mind, the streets are completely empty. People must be at home, safe and happy. Hiding themselves from the maniac who killed the professor’s daughter. Undoubtedly terrified of a boy they used to love.

My cell phone buzzes against the thick fabric lining the inside of my brand new coat. I let out a long, long breath in a clear display of unhappiness. People keep trying to contact me even after I’ve made it pretty clear that I needed some time alone with my own thoughts. Unfortunately, they know me well enough to know how dangerous this can be.

Legs are aching and lungs are starting to burn like hell, but even so, the sense of self-care is not enough to force my body into inertia. I know I should be at home, comforting what’s left of my family, but I simply don’t feel the urge to spend another single second in a home torn apart by disappointment and loss. 

I laugh at the cold and sharp wind. I trusted him. We all trusted him. I said this before and I’m gonna say it again: he was the basic synonym of family for both of us, so how on earth he dared to betray us like that?

My whole body shakes as I brace myself against a telephone booth. It’s old, dusty and apparently useless. If I look close enough I might even see the cobwebs surrounding the worn out machinery. Soon enough, the mayor will get this thing removed from the sidewalk, since no one is going to have the need to use it anymore. It will be dumped and forgotten. Just like her.

I force myself to close my eyes tightly, consequently preventing hot tears to stream through my cheeks. Although I try to think about something else, about anything other than the way my own sister was murdered, my imagination is stronger than my will to keep my sanity. 

The images are so vivid that I have to warn myself over and over again that it’s  not actually real. But I can almost feel the way his large hands are wrapped around her throat; all the air leaving her lungs as fast as possible, with no guarantee of ever returning; her probably dazed and confused from the sudden lack of oxygen. I can easily see her fighting to get his hands off her, but failing miserably. Crying, begging, gasping for air as life slowly leaves her eyes.

I’m pretty sure she did all of this. The police said there was a fight, and I know my sister well enough to know that she wouldn’t give up on her own life that easy. Unlike me, she was a tough girl. She knew how to stand up for herself.

Apparently, she wasn’t tough enough to prevent herself from him.

But… how could she? None of us ever suspected that the gentle, kind-hearted Swedish boy who lived across the street would do us any harm. I used to say that the most dangerous thing about him was the way he narrowed his green eyes at me or the way he ran his hand through his hair as he watched us both do something mercilessly questionable. 

Damn. How stupid can I be?

“You’re not stupid, okay?” my sister used to warn me every time I came up with some self-destructive comment. “You’re just… young.”

And I want to tell her that it’s perfectly possible to be young and stupid at the same time. 

It hits me then. She’ll never hear it. She’ll never be aware of my ridiculous excuse. All because she is dead. All because of him.

My fist hits the cold metal behind me in a desperate attempt to get rid of the anger. I don’t want to think about her, about her current situation. But I know I can’t keep ignoring reality like that, because even if it sucks, it’s still my reality. And I have to deal with it either way.

My heart bleeds and I feel every bit of my consciousness crash like an old, forgotten vessel. I raise my eyes to the overcast sky, desperately trying to drown my sorrows in its darkness. I can’t go on pretending that what he did wasn’t able to tear every corner of my soul and confuse my already perplexed mind. 

Again, the frantic buzz of my cell phone is there. This time, I decide not to ignore it. I’m ready to give a shy, unprepared answer when a trembling and still strangely fearless voice cuts through the air.

“Where the fuck are you?”

I almost laugh. 

“Hello to you too, Landon”

Landon. For the first time in hours, my thoughts turn directly to my not-so-tall, hairy friend. The knot in my throat becomes obviously painful while I think of the possibility of having him here, by my side. I feel guilty for leaving him completely alone in front of my house, crying like a lost puppy in need of care.

Great. One more item to add to my list of regrets.

“Where are you?“ he repeats each word in a slow and almost absurd way, as if he doubted my ability to understand clear and basic phrases. 

“I have absolutely no idea,” I laugh at my own irresponsibility. 

Landon coughs, “So… you’re lost?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

The lack of guilt in my voice can make me feel even worse.

“Fine, just… just give me a hint of where you might be and I’ll see if I can get to you,“ he sounds so determined that I can hardly tell him that maybe, just maybe, I can manage to be alone.

I can’t. It’s a pretty obvious little white lie, and we both know it. I just don’t think I have what it takes to look at him right in the eye after all that has happened. I won’t be humble enough to admit that he was right about us the whole time, that I’m sure. 

Asking for forgiveness is something I’ve never been able to do, at least not in the right and sociable acceptable way. I’m not going to contradict my own nature right now.

“No, wait, wait!” I try not to sound so desperate as I search for the right words in my mind, finally being able to walk again as I squeeze the cool screen of the cell phone against my skin. “Are you still in my house?“ 

For what feels like the first time in forever, I let myself pay attention to the daily noises that follow on the other side of the line: cutlery and crockery clashing in a almost nostalgic harmony; muffled and slightly hoarse voices doing their best to hide the sadness within. 

"I am, thanks to you,” he tries to sound cool but end up failing miserably. 

I know how Landon feels. I’m pretty sure he’s just as broken as I am at the moment. We share a similar amount of pain over what happened. Landon adored my sister just as much as he adored… Bill.

His name. Oh, heavens, his name. The simple thought of him — of all the significant letters forming his designation — causes hatred to flow through my bloodstream. I remember all the times this word escaped my lips as a joyful prayer.

Bill, Bill, Bill. 

Back then, I wanted nothing but be able to adore him, love him. Right now, I want nothing but be able to forget.

Landon’s forced cough is able to get me to return to the present time. “Are you still with me?”

I roll my eyes as I walk away from an almost frozen puddle. He coughs a lot, and I hate it. But I’m not going to tell him that, simple because I’m not in the mood for an unnecessary, heavy discussion about his nature.

“Yes, and I need you to do me a little favor.”

“How little?” he asks, surprising me with his sudden determination. Normally, he avoids helping me out.

But today is anything but a normal day, so it should be suspected that none of us would follow our basic behavior.

“New York little.”

Landon gasps and I can almost feel him bending over my father’s old and dusty armchair. I can also hear my mother crying, too. 

“But it’s a huge city!”

“Yeah, there’s something we call "joke”. Ever heard of it?“ 

My provocation is forgotten as a result of the fact that we both have more important and concrete things to worry about than bad and unnecessary jokes.

"God, you’re so hilarious!” sarcasm flows through his words and I manage to let out a little laugh. “What do you need?”

I hear the cogwheels of my brain go into work mode while the worn soles of my boots make an almost comforting noise against the damp surface of the sidewalk. I see the strongly familiar signs in a lunatic attempt to form a compelling argument. This is my hometown, the place from which I can never escape. In theory, this is my safe haven, and yet I still feel like a complete stranger every second I step under the effect of this atmosphere.

“I need you to meet me in front of the old Goyle’s Cave”, I basically scream when I realize that I was finally able to connect the rest of my brain to the mechanism that processes reality as a whole.

“Wh.. Why?!”, Landon questions my decision, and I realize that he struggles not to complain about his probable hearing loss. "This place has been closed since we went to college.“

My stomach wraps up. I hate every memory I grow from that now detestable place. It was there where the problem began to unfold, or so I think. Which implies that it’s the perfect place to inform Landon about the plan that I’ve been developing in my mind since I acknowledged the death of my sister. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just need you to be there.”

He takes a deep breath for the hundredth time since we started talking.

“But…” he begins.

I quickly cut him off.

“Be there for me, Landon.”

“Weren’t you completely lost, like, five minutes ago?”, he provokes and I get ready to cross the empty street.

“Just come!”, I practically beg, tightening the purple scarf around my neck even more. 

“And what am I supposed to say to your parents?”, Landon asks and, somehow, I can tell that he’s truly concerned about my parents well-being,

Unlike me, apparently. 

“Just say you’re coming for me, okay? They’ll let you go in a heartbeat.”

“Fine, I’m coming! But just because you’re asking me so nicely…”, he gives in and I try my best not to squeal at his statement. 

“I’ve always knew I could count on you.”

“Whatever, my lady. Anything for you,” Landon mocks.

“Stop being such a baby and hurry up,” I demand. “We don’t have enough time.”

He stops breathing, feeling as confused as someone can possibly be.

“Enough time for what? What the fuck are you up to?”

I take a deep breath, trying really hard to organize my own thoughts once again. I knew this was going to be complicated, but I honestly didn’t believe it would take me that long to absorb this new idea. My old-self would never consider doing this to anyone, especially when it comes to Bill.

 But the old me is dead and gone. It has been dead alongside with who my sister used to be.

Or so I think.

“He destroyed us,” my tone is almost disturbing. “You know that, don’t you? Bill destroyed us.”

“Yes, yes he did,” the pain in Landon’s voice is almost unbearable, but I force myself to keep going either way. 

“The police couldn’t catch him, so we’re going to.” I stare at the dark sky once again as I speak, feeling the snowflakes crowding gracefully in my hair. “Just as my sister used to say: an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. There’s no turning back now.”

I can feel Landon’s protection walls tumbling down like it was stone.

“What the fuck do you mean?”, he requires an explanation, irritation blending with fear to each syllable.

His swearing only makes me feel more motivated. 

“You heard me. I’m going to destroy Bill Skarsgård, and you’re helping me.”

#i hope this doesn't flop #lol #bill skarsgård imagines #bill skarsgård imagine #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård x oc #imagines #fanfiction #bill skarsgård #about elena #not dobrev related #writing

[vixxscifiwritings]

vellichor

vellichor

n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured

Alternatively, in which Hakyeon lives the many lives a reader does, in between the pages of books that lay forgotten in the old dusty bookstore.

(Special shout out to @kpop-loving-noona because she was the one who actually conceived the premise of this drabble. More notes at the end)

Find all drabbles here

It’s the sight of books that draws Hakyeon in at first. He spots it from the corner of his eye and immediately wanders over. 

It’s a surprise really. The shop has a tattered fabric for an awning and the windows look like they haven’t been dusted in ages. The bronze nameplate reads ‘Eternity’ and hangs on the hinges, creaking in the strong breeze. It’s accompanied by the chime of a few bells left on the wind chime that hangs a few inches from the door.  

The ancient look feels like a side effect of Time’s personal vendetta against the promise of the namesake. The chiming and creaking have no rhythm and he isn’t even sure the store existed before.

But what bibliophile can resist the siren call of written literature? So Hakyeon, tests his luck by pushing the door. 

It gives way, and Hakyeon’s heart drops. 

-

That’s always the first sign of trouble, Hakyeon thinks in hindsight. But a good collection of books has always been able to seduce him. Will anyone ever believe him when he says that books pull him in literally? 

He has a rare power, Wonshik tells him. One that was activated when he walked into Eternity. That he was able to find the bookstore in itself shows that Hakyeon was born special. 

It’s a constant source of wonder to him. He can pick up a book. Any book and choose to travel into the world and live through its stories. 

It leads to hilarious situations. One time he picked up the novelization of the movie Jumanji and dropped into the middle of the jungle. He would have pulled himself out but there was a rhino chasing after him and Hakyeon decided to prioritize living. Tree climbing is an essential life skill, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Out of all the emotions he feels, embarrassment is the most common. Romance novels are a guilty pleasure but this also means living through the awkward chase and confessions and rejections till the main lead finally finds ‘The One’. It’s a blessing that people within the story don’t sense his presence because some times Hakyeon forgets himself and cheers so loud, it would put overly enthusiastic moms at their kids’ school shows to shame.

Then there is the angst. Oh the angst. Hakyeon cries along with the female lead when she thinks that she is inherently unloveable and that she will die alone. Or when the male lead has his heart broken when the love of his life leaves him and he feels that he has no future without them. When a long lost mother reunites with her now grown up son and they exchange tears and no words. 

Wonshik always laughs at him for how easily he cries. He isn’t as discreet as he thinks, that idiot. Hakyeon can tell that Wonshik is hiding a smile, while pretending not to look at him when returns from these other book universes. 

Hakyeon is always confused by how much Wonshik seems to know, but can never get an answer out of the man. What is Wonshik’s power? How does he always manage to show up whenever he returns from a story? Why is he always hanging around Eternity? Does he live there? Are there others like them? More people who have wandered into the bookstore and then left with their lives changed.

That’s just the charm of bookstores though. A story can change your life. There’s deeper philosophy there and better people can articulate it. But a good book is a special feeling and don’t start him or he won’t stop gushing.

-

“Happy birthday” Wonshik smiles at him the moment he walks in. The doorbell chimes and Hakyeon beams, immediately going to engulf Wonshik in a hug. Hakyeon gasps and Wonshik curses when he forgets what he was hiding behind his back. It’s a cake with candles on it that aren’t lit yet and Hakyeon coos.

“You got me a cake?” Hakyeon asks in surprise.

“Yeah. Too much?” Wonshik asks, running his hand through his hair. Hakyeon shakes his head, his smile probably a permanent fixture on his face and Wonshik blushes. 

“Let me light the candles” Wonshik says, fumbling around for matches that he swears he had kept somewhere around here. Hakyeon snaps a quick picture to remember the moment by and then helps the poor kid by picking up the box kept next to cake itself and waving it in his face. 

Wonshik cries dramatically in frustration and Hakyeon laughs. wonshik sings him an off tune birthday song, the kind he hasn’t heard before but he gets the sentiment. 

“Are you going a trip today too?” Wonshik asks. 

Hakyeon nods.  “I’ve saved up my favourite book for today” he tells him.

“The bookstore is yours” Wonshik says, gesturing to the empty establishment.

“You know... maybe...” Hakyeon hesitates. Wonshik raises an eyebrow. “Maybe a little later? I was kind of thinking we could hang out together for a while. We never do...”

He falters at Wonshik’s surprised face. “.... and it is a stupid idea. Never mind. I’ll just go” he says, looking at his feet and planning to scurry off to romance section.

“It wouldn’t... It’s not stupid. I’d like that” Wonshik says. Hakyeon nods, looking anywhere but at the man. 

His heart simultaneously stops and speeds up and the arrhythmia lasts forever.

-

“Hot chocolate?” Wonshik asks holding up a cup. Hakyeon can almost cry in happiness. Well cry again that is.

“Why do you pick up stories that always make you cry?” Wonshik asks, shaking his head at Hakyeon. 

“Shut up. It has a happy ending” Hakyeon pouts. 

“This must be the fifth time you’ve chosen the same book” Wonshik says, putting his jacket around Hakyeon. Hakyeon is extremely grateful and he hopes it is conveyed by his gestures because words are difficult when he is disoriented from the after effects. 

“And yet you cry every time. You are a sap” Wonshik says fondly. 

“If you love something, wouldn’t you be partial to it?” Hakyeon asks him. Wonshik smiles to himself. He has that far away look in his eye and Hakyeon can tell he is remembering a loved one. His shoulders droop. He knows an answer won’t come. Wonshik was an enigmatic soul.

“I would never leave their side” Wonshik admits, surprising Hakyeon.

“Then how are you here?” Hakyeon asks. He immediately puts his hand on his mouth, knowing it is an extremely personal question to ask.

“Staying here... is a way of staying close to the person I love” Wonshik tells him.

“They are lucky to have you” Hakyeon says wistfully. Wonshik nods. He pulls up two bean bags from the neighbouring aisle for them to sit on.

“Why don’t you tell me about the book?” Wonshik asks, changing the topic. Hakyeon launches into a detailed explanation of the story and the characters and why the boy’s mom is his favourite and Wonshik listens with his head on his hands and all his attention to him.

-

“I... What’s happening?” Hakyeon asks in shock. He picks up a book but nothing happens. He picks up another. A third, a fourth...

He is in the middle of a panic attack when Wonshik comes down to the ground floor from the first. He immediately rushes to Hakyeon who drops to his knees.

“Hakyeon... Hakyeon.... Yeonnie look at me” Wonshik says, caressing his face.

“It’s gone” Hakyeon says blankly. there is a ringing noise in his ears and his vision is out of focus and he instinctively knows. 

“What?” Wonshik asks. Hakyeon looks at him. He should be feeling the worry but instead he feels... empty.

“I don’t have my power anymore” Hakyeon stays, too numb to process it. The heartbreak will come later. then the questions, the anger, the denial and attempts to revive it.

Wonshik engulfs him in a hug and he stares. He doesn’t know what he is looking at. All of it. None of it. The books mock him. Pages that remain cold and unmoving. 

“It will be okay” Wonshik assures him, rubbing circles on his back. To Hakyeon, it feels like nothing ever will be.

“I don’t understand... I didn’t do anything wrong” Hakyeon says in a small voice. 

“Did you... did you do something to a book? Or... try to write one of your own?” Wonshik asked. Hakyeon looks at Wonshik in surprise. Wonshik always knows he reminds himself.

“Only a paragraph. I didn’t even read or edit it” Hakyeon confesses. 

“The power has a limit. You can’t be sucked into your own story. That would be dangerous” Wonshik tells him.

“That’s cruel. You can’t take this away from me. You can’t” Hakyeon insists. “Those books were my life. They were my everything. I just wanted to share everything I felt with others.”

“I know” Wonshik says, wiping away the tears from his eyes. When had he started crying? Hakyeon doesn’t know.

“But that’s the thing about stories Hakyeon. They must eventually end. But you can still live them again” Wonshik tells him with a rueful smile.

“I can’t. You just told me that I can’t use my power anymore. Just reading won’t ever be the same” Hakyeon cries.

“Your power isn’t gone forever. The first time you walked into Eternity and picked up a book wasn’t your first time” Wonshik confesses.

“What are you saying?” Hakyeon asks. He already knows what Wonshik is implying. But he needs to hear him say it.

“You’re living a story and you can choose to go back and live it again” Wonshik says. 

“You’re lying” Hakyeon shoots back. Wonshik pulls away.

“What do you remember of your life before you walked into this store?” Wonshik asks him. Hakyeon starts but closes his mouth. The answer is on the tip of his tongue and then isn’t.

“What do you remember of your life outside of this store?” Wonshik asks him. He smiles at Hakyeon who is connecting the dots and all emotions show on his face. 

“It’s a beautiful fantasy isn’t it?” Wonshik asks, leaning against the shelf.

“But if I go back... I’ll have to do it all over again. I’ll lose everything I’ve had here” Hakyeon says, standing up. 

“And you’ll find it again” Wonshik says. 

“But I will lose you” Hakyeon said. He looks at Wonshik, unsure of hos his confession will be handled. Wonshik just smiles at him and Hakyeon looks to his feet. Wonshik won’t answer him this time.

-

When Hakyeon wakes, he never touches a book again.

-The-End-

A/N - The story will continue in Wonshik’s drabble - here.

#vixx n #obscure sorrow series #fantasy #vixx ravi

[thotyssey]

On Point With: Charles Busch

A native-born playwright of considerable success both on and off Broadway, Charles Busch captured our hearts and funnybones with material that hearkened gently back to to a time when stories were told with a glamorous  sheen and a heavy hand... yet their comedic appeal remain timeless. Soapy melodrama, hilariously earnest dialogue and fabulous fashions are his bread and butter, and his most famous leading lady has always been Busch himself. Now bringing a new cabaret show about growing in in 1960′s New York to town, Charles sits down with us to talk about his incredible life and career, the people and things that influenced his own work, and the queens of today whom he’s inspired.

Thotyssey: We’re so honored that you’re talking to us, Charles. Let’s get right into it! This summer at the Pines, you performed a show called Naked & Unafraid. Was that literal?

Charles Busch: Whoa!!! I was not actually "naked." It was metaphorical in that I was performing my cabaret act NOT in drag. Of course, what I call "not in drag" would be considered "full drag" by some. That's funny that you thought I was actually nude. People are doing that sort of thing now, and I think it's very cool. But for me, I'm happy with myself from the neck up and the waist down. In between, I need some work.

You are known largely for writing comedic plays that pay homage to the melodrama and style of movies from the 40s through the 60s, and for starring in them as the female lead. It’s a very enjoyable experience for audiences that are fans of that era of film, but as younger generations become farther removed from that period, do they respond differently to your work in that genre?

Good question. Well, my audience has certainly aged with me, but there are SOME gay people under thirty who watch TCM and love classic film. I may be delusional, but I like to think that my plays and performances are funny in themselves and not totally reliant on a knowledge of old movies and stars. But  a familiarity with that type of star certainly adds to the experience. 

I've never actually done a parody of a specific movie. It's always an homage to a movie genre, and usually one so obscure that it's a given that 90 per cent of the audience has never seen any of those movies. It doesn't seem to be a problem. Funny is funny. 

I was raised on the film versions of two of your best known works where you play female characters, Psycho Beach Party and Die, Mommy, Die. Were you happy with the adaptation process in these cases? 

Both films were great experiences for me, particularly Die, Mommie, Die. I loved every minute -- and I mean every minute -- of making that film. Every day I couldn't believe my incredible good fortune at being able to star in my own movie and get to play all those wonderful scenes: love scenes, suspense scenes, mother love scenes. I suffered real withdrawal when the filming was over. I would lie on the sofa, replaying the entire movie in my head over and over. 

Needless to say, I would kill to make another film. Both Psycho Beach Party and Die, Mommie, Die were basically handed to me and put together very quickly. Now I'm in the position of trying to get a movie made, and it's been very frustrating. One week it sounds like we're about to start shooting in a month, and the next week the entire movie has fallen a part. 

Will we ever see a film adaptation of your first stage hit, Vampire Lesbians of Sodom?

Years ago, there was some talk that evaporated. However, these days it's looking optimistic for movies of both The Tale of the Allergist's Wife and The Divine Sister.

There’s a rumor that Lauren Ambrose of Six Feet Under fame may take the lead of a My Fair Lady revival! Lauren got her breakthrough as Chicklet, the heroine of the Psycho Beach Party film (a role you originated). What was it like working with Lauren during that early period of her career, and do you think she’d make a good Eliza?

I think Lauren would be a wonderful Eliza. She is a trained opera singer, and has great comic and dramatic skills. We haven't stayed in touch. But I like her a lot, and she was a joy to work with on Psycho Beach Party. We were very, very fortunate to have found her. She carries that movie with great authority.

You’re a native New Yorker. Can you describe the NYC that you grew up in, and were exploring, during your early creative years? Were you going to the bars and clubs, off-Broadway, etc.?

Oh honey, New York in the late seventies and early eighties was so much fun. Sex in the seventies was the best sex in the history of the world. I was in my twenties, and while I was too much of a hypochondriac and broke to get into drugs or alcohol, I adored going to the baths and back room bars. Orgies! I would leave the bar with seventeen gentlemen callers. It was my only experience enjoying the physical camaraderie of men. Sex was a great sport, individual and group. We thought "what's the worst that can happen to you?"  

As far as my creative life, I was full of hopes and dreams and gritty determination to carve out a career in the theatre. I think the older men I dated found me a bit exhausting, when they'd take me to the theatre and afterwards I'd be shaking my fist. "That oughta be me  up there!!"

Did any drag queens in the city influence your look and performance style? I know that famous female impersonator Charles Pierce was an inspiration. Charles Pierce was hysterically funny and terribly glamorous, and that certainly intrigued me. I was very influenced by the work of a brilliant actor/ playwright/ director named Charles Ludlam, who had his own theatre company, The Ridiculous Theatrical Company. Before I saw him, I had no idea that I could have a career creating my own theatrical universe. His plays employed drag and camp humor, and film and theatre history references. His plays were wildly funny but also at times poignant. He was dazzling, and changed my life forever.

One of our city’s top queens today, Paige Turner, credits working on an early production of yours as an inspiration for her own drag. She’s gonna be a reality TV star soon! I adore Paige Turner. She is a true original. Paige in her boy alter ego has had a very full career as an actor/ singer/ dancer in plays and musicals. Many well known drag performers seem to have been in my plays early in their careers. My plays seem to be a halfway house for young actors who become drag stars. 

Tale of the Allergist’s Wife was a hugely successful production that ran on Broadway in 2000, which many consider your first foray into “mainstream” playwriting. When you were writing that, were you conscious of how different it was from your previous work? Did you intend it to be different?

I had actually had something of a commercial success five years earlier with a very mainstream comedy called You Should Be So Lucky. It was conveniently forgotten when The Allergist's Wife moved to Broadway and the narrative about me was streamlined into "East Village drag queen writes Broadway comedy." Everyone has a publicity narrative, and the simpler the better. 

I'm beginning to think that the only difference between "downtown" and "mainstream" is the size of your publicity budget. If the Broadway play A Doll's House Part Two or even Dear Evan Hansen were done below 14th Street with very little publicity, they would be downtown. Conversely, if some very obscure avant garde piece was produced on Broadway and had subway posters and TV ads, it would be considered mainstream.

There are so many great works of yours that we can talk about (Our Leading Lady! The Third Story! The Divine Sister!), but then this would stretch into the longest interview ever. Is there any one work of yours at this point that you are the most fond of, or have the happiest memories attached to?

I'm very sentimental about a play of mine called The Lady in Question that was first done in 1989. It was the apogee of the work we were doing with my theatre company Theatre in Limbo. It was a beautiful and rather lavish production, and we all loved each other and were so proud of the work we were doing. And it was the last show we did with the original company before we lost two of our great colleagues, Bobby Carey and Meghan Robinson, to AIDS.

Do you think that Hollywood lost a little bit of its flavor when actors, writers and directors moved towards more “realistic,” grounded storytelling? It seems like even in these outlandish comic book blockbusters today, there is an attempt to tell the story like it is really happening, and that the superheroes and villains are these real, multi-layered people.

That's a very good point. I'm often asked to compare today's stars with the great pantheon of stars of old Hollywood. It's not really fair, since the actual technology influenced story telling and style. The stars of the past were seen in silvery black and white, and in a highly stylized world. It's an entirely different art form, and a different kind of actor is required.  

Whose take on Joan Crawford did you enjoy more: Fay Dunaway’s in Mommie Dearest, or Jessica Lange’s in Feud?

I love both. I think Faye Dunaway's performance defines the word "brave." So audacious and committed. I've never seen any actor convey such undiluted rage. However, I also appreciated Jessica Lange's more vulnerable Joan. You must remember that Mommie Dearest was an adaptation of Christina Crawford's book, and Christina had a definite point of view of her mother which was definitely not sympathetic; whereas Ryan Murphy in Feud wanted the audience to see more facets of Crawford's character, and what prompted her more outrageous behavior.

As I’m writing this, I’m watching this goofy “psychedelic” movie called The Big Cube on TCM from 1969, where this heiress and her evil boyfriend are trying to poison the heiress’ poor stepmother Lana Turner with LSD. It’s ridiculous fun, and I never heard of it before. Have you ever seen this?  

It's one of the great truly bad movies. Lana Turner's array of blonde wiglets alone makes it a camp semi-classic. It was actually one of the many movies that I was evoking in Die, Mommie, Die. It was very interesting in the sixties and early seventies, when Hollywood was taking the old genres and trying to be more hip and putting in references to LSD and sexual promiscuity, but they couldn't really pull it off without looking silly and exploitative.

This is a good segue to discuss My Kinda 60’s, your new cabaret revue that’s coming to Feinstein’s for four nights starting Tuesday, October 17th! You’ll be telling stories about growing up in the 1960s, plus covering songs from the stage and the pop charts of that decade. What inspired you to do this?

I love the intimate quality of cabaret. My act is a combination of music and true stories of my life in a very conversational way. I love the music of the sixties. It's the decade in which I grew up. This show is all about my childhood and coming of age in the sixties, when I was raised by my indomitable Aunt Lillian in Manhattan against the background of that fascinating decade. All of my shows are personal, but this one is very much a dual portrait of my Aunt and I.  My musical director/ arranger Tom Judson and I have put together a very eclectic and fun collection of songs.

What’s your favorite song to do in this show?

We loved singing duets, and we're doing a very cool arrangement of the Henry Mancini film theme song Two for the Road. 

Also oddly enough, the Glenn Campbell song By the Time I Get to Phoenix.  Every performer hopefully brings something unique to a song. And for me singing it, it can be read as a gay man who has led an inauthentic life and finally has left his girlfriend to become his true self, and how painful that decision is for both of them. I haven't changed a single word. It's just interpretation and the audience creating their own subtext.

Are you mad at hippies for not fulfilling their promise of creating world peace and harmony, or is that an unfair expectation of anyone?

That would expecting far too much. The hippies made their mark. They did influence the gay rights movement. They did influence the civil rights movement and the women's movement. Let's not discount the influence of the counter culture.

What’s something about 1960’s pop culture that should inspire younger people today?

Well, it was the beginning of every movement that we're still fighting for today; gender and racial equality. A relaxation of gender roles. Rebellion against government authority. These song,s and hopefully my personal stories, should not seem like something redolent of the past and sweetly nostalgic. These are cool, tough songs that could be written today.

Would a Melania Trump-inspired character in a future, theoretical Charles Busch production be a villain or a tragic heroine?

Well, you're talking to someone who has always felt great sympathy for Marie Antoinette. She does seem like someone who signed on for one thing and got in way over her head. I would not like to be Melania.

Piggybacking from that -- you’re famous for writing about nostalgic eras, but do you ever want to tackle the gritty reality of times like this in a play, script, etc.?

I have written contemporary plays, ya know! Not all of my plays are based on classic film. Some of my more recent plays, Olive and the Bitter Herbs and The Tribute Artist, were very much about life in NYC today, and how real estate forces so many life choices onto people.  I'm not a didactic or issues-oriented political writer. If I attempted something like that, it would come off fake and pretentious. A creative artist has to have the insight to know what they personally have to offer.

So, what else is coming up for you?

I've written a new play that we'll be doing for a very limited run this spring called The Confession of Lily Dare where I age from a sixteen year-old convent girl to an old crone. Gotta get it done now, while I can still put off the sixteen part. No wisecracks, please.

In closing: OMG. when will we be seeing you judging on RuPaul’s Drag Race!? These queens out there need to go through the Charles Busch musical theater challenge!

Start the whispering campaign. Start it now! I would love to appear as a judge, It's such a fun show, and RuPaul deserves all of those Emmys. World of Wonder, sign me up! I think I have something to offer those girls. I would be encouraging, loving but tough.

Thanks so much Charles, and have a great show!

Charles Busch’s stage show “My Kinda 60′s” runs from October 17th through the 21st at Feinstein’s. Check Thotyssey’s calendar for other scheduled appearances, and follow Charles on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and his website.

On Point Archives

#onpointwith #charles busch

[dipulb3]

As a nation cries for justice, the siblings of Atatiana Jefferson ask she not be forgotten

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/as-a-nation-cries-for-justice-the-siblings-of-atatiana-jefferson-ask-she-not-be-forgotten/

As a nation cries for justice, the siblings of Atatiana Jefferson ask she not be forgotten

As Americans face a reckoning over the deaths of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery and others, Jefferson’s three siblings sat down for a video conference with Appradab. They want to remind America that amid its demands for justice in police killings, protesters should not forget their sister.

“This literally was one of those situations where this could’ve been anybody,” Ashley Carr, 36, said.

‘We’re literally just doing normal, everyday things’

On October 12, Jefferson was babysitting Zion for Amber, who was recovering from heart surgery. She’d been released from rehabilitation two days prior. Jefferson was a caretaker. She adored family time, whether it was holidays or a game of spades.

Zion and his aunt were playing video games around 2 a.m. when two Fort Worth police officers arrived, responding to a concerned neighbor’s call about doors being open at Jefferson’s home.

Jefferson, 28, heard something outside and grabbed her gun. Officer Aaron Dean did not identify himself as police. He demanded, through the window, that Jefferson show her hands before opening fire, killing her, bodycam footage shows.

“That is a blessing that I think that we have for ours is that we have a video because how would that narrative have went?” asked Ashley Carr. “What we have noticed, even with the Ahmaud Arbery case, is that that narrative is not how the video went. … If the cameras weren’t there, all of a sudden it could’ve been, ‘It was a shootout and blah blah blah,’ and we would’ve had to take their word.”

The family has struggled watching videos of recent police killings.

“Revictimization: I didn’t think how serious it was until I really started watching other people get killed,” brother Adarius Carr, the father of a 7-month-old, said. “I definitely feel the passion, the hurt, the anger rebubble up — the need to do something, the need to fix our community, the need to figure out what can I do to make this world better for my son and for kids Zion’s age. … It happens every time that I watch it, so that’s why I said sometimes I just don’t watch it. You can’t.”

Ashley Carr never finished watching the Floyd video, in which a Minneapolis police officer knelt on his neck for almost eight minutes. “Longest video of my life,” she said. She’s familiar with other killings, and it makes her question the rules. At least during Jim Crow, she said, it was clearer what Black people could and couldn’t do. Now, it feels nebulous, she said.

“I can’t sit in my house and play video games. I can’t go out and run for a jog. I fell asleep at Wendy’s in my car, and now I’m losing my life. These are crazy things. I can’t walk from the store — Elijah McClain — and I’m telling you, he’s literally telling you he’s an introvert,” she said. “We’re literally just doing normal, everyday things and you can still be killed. That’s a crazy place to live in. That’s a scary place to live in, but that’s the reality of a Black person.”

Amber Carr did finish the Floyd video. Upon seeing the 46-year-old plead for his mama, she thought of her sister.

“I wouldn’t say I felt her or I saw her, but it made me wonder,” she paused for several seconds, tears welling in her eyes. “What were her last words? To hear them say their last words, did she cry out for her mom? Did she cry out for someone?”

‘He wasn’t even safe in the home’

Adarius Carr is already planning to have “the talk” — the Black boys’ rite where parents explain they will be treated differently for their skin — with his infant son, Thaddeus. He doesn’t know how the chat will go, but he’s locked down the theme.

“The best I can tell him is: Make it home to me,” he said. “Just make it home, son, as fast as you can. Whatever you have to do, make it home.”

It’s a sad reality Black children’s parents must prepare for these conversations before their children have reached maturity, said Amber Carr, who also has a 4-year-old, Zayden.

Zion is smart. He knows what’s happening. He knows why he’s attending protests and rallies, but he doesn’t understand the big picture, she said. He’s too young.

“The bigger picture is I don’t want you go outside and play because they don’t like you out there. I want you in the house because I can watch you. I feel like you’re safer in the house, but then I can’t even say that,” she said. “He wasn’t even safe in the home.”

At the same time, Zion witnessed and lived through something to which none of his relatives can relate. Zion will occasionally remember a game he played or a trip he took with Aunt Tay and start talking, but his mother doesn’t press him, she said.

“He actually lived the experience. We as his elders, we didn’t experience anything like he’s just experienced. I’ve only watched things like that on television,” she said. “I don’t ask him questions. I don’t know if I don’t ask him questions for him or me. Probably for the both of us.”

Life as a coping mechanism

Adarius, Amber and Ashley — whose mother had dubbed them the A-Team before her passing earlier this year — try mightily to live normal lives, despite the pall of their sister’s killing hanging over them.

Yolanda Carr, their matriarch, was ill when tragedy struck in October. Jefferson had moved home to Fort Worth to help care for her. Yolanda learned of Jefferson’s death in the hospital. She was too sick to attend the funeral and sent a eulogy for the pastor to read. Less than three months later, she passed.

“Being in the hospital and not being able to be herself and not being able to fight, that’s crazy,” Ashley Carr said. “It’s a lot of emotions that come back up, but through all of these emotions, we all have to still get up and go do jobs. We have to make sure that our kids are ready, that the household is still running — all while having this on our back. It becomes a lot.”

Amber Carr hears praise about how well she’s handling the loss, but there’s no magic to it, she said. She has no choice but to persevere.

“People ask all the time, ‘How do you do it? How do you smile through it all?’ It’s life, you know? You have to keep living,” she said. “I have my moments where I might not sleep for days or I might be in the car and I just start crying. You just have your moments.”

Like anyone, there are times when the siblings want to block out the world and forget their woes, but it isn’t realistic. They must fight for justice. They must keep their sister’s name alive, to ensure people understand she lived for something and died for nothing.

“Some days, you do want to just crawl up under a rock and pray that this all goes away. You think you’re living in a nightmare, but this is life. This is our new normal, as they call it. We’re trying to embrace this new life,” Ashley Carr said.

The Atatiana Project and Sisters of the Movement

Adarius Carr wishes he could do more. He left home about 12 years ago and now serves as a boatswain’s mate in the US Navy. Military obligations prevent him from being as involved as his sisters in activism.

One of the family initiatives of which he’s proudest is the Atatiana Project, which serves to bridge police and urban communities, and promotes STEM careers — with an emphasis on coding and gaming — for children. Jefferson, a biology graduate from Xavier University of Louisiana, worked in pharmaceutical equipment sales and wanted to become a doctor.

The Atatiana Project launched on Juneteenth.

Adarius, 32, loved playing video games with his little sister. Role-playing, fighting games — nothing was off limits. As kids, they’d play all night and be bushed when it came time to go to school, he said. The memory brings a bright smile to his face.

The last time the Navy chief petty officer came home from deployment, he and Jefferson played Warframe for four days — “all night giggling, laughing, telling jokes. She’s always a class act, always had me in stitches.”

Today, he keeps his sister’s pillow in his gaming room in San Diego, where he’s stationed. He catches himself asking her questions about the games he’s playing.

“Giving back is a big thing for us in general,” he said of the Atatiana Project. “When you’re hurting, it is sometimes better to just get people around you that understand the hurt, or you can help them with their hurt. We’ve been through a lot, and we want to see if we can help the next person.”

Amber and Ashley Carr have found solace in another initiative, Sisters of the Movement, an organization founded by women who lost siblings to police violence, including Sandra Bland‘s, Terence Crutcher‘s and Shantel Davis‘.

Another founder, Allisa Charles-Findley, the sister of Botham Jean — who, too, was killed in his own home by a Texas police officer — helped Ashley Carr navigate losing a sibling and “the different things that go on with family dynamics,” Carr said.

“We end up realizing we are part of a movement and we need to be heard and that we do matter — and that the people, they needed a voice and we want to be the voice,” Ashley Carr said. “That helped me show that I’m OK. … These are valid feelings to be feeling angry, to be feeling upset, to be feeling like, How in the world could this happen to somebody who was just literally at home?”

Amber Carr texts with Botham Jean’s mother, Allison, periodically. She’s hilarious and “a breath of fresh air,” Carr said. Taking Zion and Zayden to visit her in St. Lucia is on Amber Carr’s “vision board” for the future, she said.

“Those women, they’re relatable,” she said. “That part helps me, to know I’m not by myself.”

Waiting for justice

As the A-Team grapples with grief and justice, former Fort Worth police officer Aaron Dean awaits trial on a murder charge.

Yolanda Carr sobbed from her hospital bed upon learning Dean was indicted in December, but she died weeks later.

Dean had tendered his resignation and has been free on $200,000 bail. The state police union will help pay for his defense. Dean’s attorney, Jim Lane, declined to comment, citing the court’s gag order, but told Appradab last year, “My client is sorry and his family is in shock.”

Jefferson’s siblings don’t know much about the case. No one has given them a time line. When Amber Carr last spoke to prosecutors, she said, she was told there are other cases ahead of theirs.

“We just have to wait our turn,” she said. The Tarrant County district attorney’s spokeswoman was out of the office Tuesday and did not return Appradab’s call seeking an update.

The question the siblings keep asking, though, is: Why is this dragging out? It’s so clear-cut, so egregious in their minds, it should be open-and-shut, they say. Where’s the accountability?

Ashley Carr, a former educator, is a budget analyst for Houston schools. If she were to hurt or upset a child, there’d be questions to answer. Amber Carr is a cosmetologist. If she were accused of cutting a client or being unsanitary, Texas might pull her license. Adarius Carr is a sailor. Every time he pulls the trigger, he has to answer to someone. They feel they’re held to stiffer standards than police, they say.

“Rules of engagement is big in the military, and I don’t see how my rules of engagement are a lot stricter than theirs,” Adarius Carr said. “They defend us, so it baffles me.”

Memories buoy siblings

Until they get answers, they’ll keep championing Jefferson’s legacy. They find warmth in the memories of their beautiful, smiling sister who would do anything for them.

Ashley and Amber will remember when they flew out to San Diego to see Adarius and saw The O’Jays at the 2018 county fair. Video from the concert shows them laughing and dancing and having a ball.

Jefferson loved her tunes — all genres, from gospel to metal — and was a talented musician, earning first chair for clarinets at every school she attended, the siblings said.

Ashley Carr will always think fondly of the last show they saw together: Beyonce and Jay-Z during the 2018 On the Run II Tour — in Beyonce’s and Ashley’s hometown of Houston, no less. Jefferson had never been to a concert of that scale, her sister said, and Ashley didn’t realize Jefferson was such an enthusiastic member of the Beyhive until that day. They had such fun, Ashley looked forward to more shows with her sister.

“I was like, ‘Man, we’re doing this all the time.’ In my head, I was like, ‘This is going to be my new concert buddy,'” she said. “When I listen to Beyonce, I always think of her. I always say, ‘We had our moment.’ We did have our moment, and I’m going to cherish that moment.”

[the-wh0le-sheb4ng]

Whilst I know I’m a bit late on the #InternationalWomen’sDay I would like to introduce you to one of the many women in my life that have influenced me massively. This in particular woman has to be up there at the top of my list. This my Nan. Today is her birthday (as you probably guessed from the title lol.) I’m writing this post to let her know how much I love and appreciate her because every once in a while it’s nice to be reminded that you’re one #AMAZING human being. So this one’s for you Fre x

“A little bit parent, a little bit teacher and a little bit best friend.”

My Nan is a superhero. Despite being late to my birth she’s always been there for me whenever I’ve needed her most. She’s my best friend. A woman I can literally tell anything to. Some people find it a chore taking the time to speak to their grandparents but I most definitely DON’T. It’s quite sad really, that some people get old and are forgotten about. Visits slowly decline due to busy lives and the people who were there for you before you were even born end up being all alone. But I know that will never be the case in our family. God forbid if that happens to me when I age. (Future Family: know that once I pass, I will haunt you if you ever let me get old alone.) However, my Nan is very much still in her youth and is best drinking partner anyone could ask for. She’s a ‘Progress Coordinator’ at Dorset Gardens and she makes it very clear that that’s her title – and so she should she’s worked extremely hard all her life. Whether that be babysitting for her elder siblings children or delivering newspapers around her block. She has so many fantastic stories to tell and that’s why I love sitting on her sofa in the back room, sipping tea together and casually chatting. You learn so much from your elders, you really do. I sometimes forget that they’ve lived the life we live and know a lot more about it than we do. It’s never a dull moment chatting away with both my Nan and my Grandad whilst watching Eggheads. They wind each other up in the best way. It’s hilarious. I want to have that kind of love they have for each other when I’m older. It’s beautiful.

  Now my Nan will always say I was TERRIBLE when I was younger, a right nuisance. And YES she was correct. She always speaks of the times I would wake up first and how she would have to take me away from Jason when he was sleeping because I’d purposely wake him up. Or how you could never take me anywhere because I would go on and on and on. And to be fair that’s still very true today haha. I would always have to be entertained. Growing up we were always at her home and she would always cook us our teas or pick us up from school. I remember often peeling her vegetables for the tea and painting her nails. I guess I’ve just always been close to my Nan, I see so much of myself in her. My Dad was very fond of her as well. He loved her like a mother and she loved him back like a son. When we did go on holidays together it was always my Nan, my Mum and my Dad going off getting drinks leaving my Gramps with the kids. Thinking back, we did have the most amazing times and I’ve got memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life. I miss those holidays. She, alongside my Grandad, was there for us when we lost my Dad. They always have been and they always will be. She was a rock during that time and kept everything together. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain how thankful we all are for that. I hope you give him a good crack when you eventually see him up there from me.

Always been the best of pals – celebrating my birthday back in the 90’s.

I absolutely love spending time with my Nan and Grandad. Whether it be days out to Widnes for fish and chips or nights at the pub. They really are party animals and I have many stories to tell about their ordeals. I hope that I’m exactly like my Nan and Grandad when I grow up they’re the best. Trips to Wales – most weekends, are fabulous. I’m always laughing when I’m with them, they’re just so infectious. We always go the market that’s a MUST and she buys some real good steals there. My Nan stays in the caravan usually if we’re taking trips to the beach – My Grandad is more of the adventurous one – his latest thrill has been boats. Gotta love him. She often tells of a time when he hired out bikes in Cyprus. Let’s just say it didn’t end well. Sitting in the club of a night is always funny, taking the piss out of each other is also a MUST. We’ve even got Jason up there dancing once. What I have learned is that my Nan remembers EVERYTHING no matter how drunk she gets. She can drink for England, she really can. So you’re always reminded of that embarrassing thing you did or said the night before.

The time when she slept in the awning and woke up with a bad back. SORRY

Since being here in London she’s been one of the many people I’ve missed. I miss being able to ring her up and say “Hey Nan, I’m just finishing work now, can I pop round?” to which she usually replies “Oh Ey George, I’m up to my eyes in it, I’ve got loads to do today. You’ll have to go when your Mother comes” and I’ll follow with “Oh I see doesn’t matter then.” To which she usually says “Oh you can come if you want, see you in a minute.” When I arrive she’s smiling and putting the kettle on. She proceeds to tell me about the latest show she has been watching and we usually watch bits of it, getting me hooked. I must admit, she does watch the most amazing shows!! She makes the best poached eggs as well! Before we know it its time for me to go and she exclaims that she is going to bed before anyone else comes. This is why I love her. She never fails to make me smile.

Trip to see ‘The Bodyguard’ at the Liverpool Empire.

I wrote this little something for you inside your birthday card but I can assure you, these are merely a few of the countless things I love about you. I hope you have the most amazing day and hopefully get a chance to get your feet up and relax. Once I’m earning the big bucks I’ll whisk you away, I promise you that.

Happy Birthday Nan,

All my love – George x

9 things I LOVE about you.

1. I LOVE to see you laugh & smile – it’s contagious. 2.I LOVE the way you cheer me up when you find me with a frown & always raise my spirits when life has got me down. 3. I LOVE how your home is always open to me as well as your biscuit box. 4. I LOVE how you drink your bitter in 1/2 pints because its more ‘Lady-Like.’ 5. I LOVE how you’re always proud of me & strive for my success but I want you to know that it is I that should be proud of you for all you have done for us. 6. I LOVE the way you cook fantastic dinners & make superb cups of tea. 7. I LOVE you for your stories, our drunken outings, our karaoke duets & our chats about life and TV shows. 8. I LOVE how you bend over backwards, even when your energy is low, to keep your family happy. 9. I LOVE you for your patience & honesty but mostly I love you for the way that you love me & because you’re not only my Nan, you’re my best friend.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAN Whilst I know I'm a bit late on the #InternationalWomen'sDay I would like to introduce you to one of the many women in my life that have influenced me massively.

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