#me: yeah I dunno I’m sadly good at keeping my emotions in

[mlwritersguild]

The world is still sleeping, while I keep on dreaming, by @queer-cosette

Based on John Rzeznik's I'm Still Here (submitted by @thedreadpirateholmes)

AO3 link; Grief/Mourning, Autistic Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir, Disabled Character, Brain Damage, Partially Blind Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Permanent Injury, descriptions of an accident that lead to permanent injury, Advice, Eye Trauma, brief mention of Christianity

Summary:

On the second anniversary of his mother's disappearance, Adrien is struggling with grief - not just for her, but for the family his father doesn't seem to want to fix. Marinette's cousin offers him some advice.

Written for the Miraculous Ladybug Writers' Guild's August Challenge; partly inspired by I'm Still Here by John Rzeznik. Carlotta is an OC who pops up frequently in my ML fics; this one features a lot of her backstory.

Rated M

———————————–

Friday, 1pm

Le Collège Françoise Dupont

4th Arrondissement

Paris, France

It’s just another normal Friday lunchtime for Carlotta Suero-Dupain, until she opens the art cupboard and finds Adrien Agreste sitting on the floor with his chin resting on his knees and his hands clamped to his ears. Although initially taken aback at finding her classmate uncharacteristically lacking most of his composure, she sets aside her surprise in favour of gently addressing him.

“Adrien? You doing okay?”

Adrien squints up at her, looking for all the world like a Crying Cat Meme. It occurs to Carlotta that he’s been sitting there in the dark and she’s just exposed his eyes to a lot of light, so she gently closes the door behind her and sinks down next to him, abandoning her quest for a decent highlighter pen for the moment.

“I’m guessing that’s a no. Bad day, huh?”

Adrien makes a little noise that sounds like half a laugh, half a sob. “You could say that,” he croaks. “Lila wouldn’t leave me alone, so I snuck in here while she was in the loo.”

“Can’t blame you,” Carlotta says, making extra effort to put a smile into her voice. The cupboard is too dark for her limited eyesight to make out his face; it seems politest to assume he can’t see hers either. “She’s like the world’s most mendacious limpet.” Adrien lets out a little amused snort at that. “But I’m guessing today was especially bad compared to normal?”

Adrien sighs softly, and while it sounds sad, he doesn’t seem to be on the verge of tears anymore. “Most of our class know that this week is a hard one for me. Even Chloé gets it. But, I dunno, either Lila didn’t bother to ask anyone about it, or she did ask but just doesn’t care.” He falls silent, and Carlotta settles herself against what feels like the collage box, letting him keep the metaphorical stage for the time being. At last, Adrien sighs again, but now he sounds more frustrated than sad.

“Tomorrow marks the second anniversary of my mom disappearing.”

And that rings a bell; Carlotta remembers Marinette mentioning something about this - her cousin had been running around the Dupain-Cheng’s kitchen, frantically making passionfruit macarons that Carlotta had been expressly forbidden from sampling. A gift for Adrien, so he knew Marinette was thinking of him and wishing him an easy time of it. Sweet of her.

She can’t think of anything to say, but then Adrien continues, “It feels like it shouldn’t be as painful as it was last year. But everything just feels… like it’s too much. And I haven’t seen my father all week, and I just… I just wish I could talk to him. But I couldn’t even make an appointment. Nathalie insists he’s too busy.”

Carlotta sighs sadly, and reaches for where she thinks his leg might be, patting a knee-shaped thing gently. “I’m sorry, Adrien,” she says softly.

“Thanks,” Adrien replies. “Sorry I took up the end of your lunchtime.”

“‘S’alright. It’s good to talk about it, y’know?”

“Yeah, you’re right. It feels… not so bad now. Thanks.”

The actual bell rings at that moment, and they both jump up, hurrying to leave the classroom before anyone catches them leaving the cupboard together and starts making assumptions. Carlotta pokes her head out the classroom door first and glances around, before beckoning Adrien to follow her.

“Lila’s not anywhere out here. I can’t see any sign of that tacky jacket.”

“Thank God,” Adrien sighs, emerging into the corridor. He looks noticeably less stressed than he had been when she found him in the cupboard, and an idea strikes her.

“Listen, Adrien,” Carlotta says hurriedly, tapping his shoulder. He looks around at her, apparently surprised. “If you ever want to talk to someone who, I dunno, doesn’t know all of it already… I just find that sometimes a fresh perspective helps, I guess. So if you want to talk to me about anything that’s going on, any shit that’s bothering you… I’m here.”

Adrien stares at her, his big green eyes round and incredulous. “You… you’re sure?”

“‘Course. Tell you what,” Carlotta adds as they both start down the hallway towards the science labs, “I’m usually at the skatepark on Sundays after eleven o’clock, you know the one around the corner from the little cinema on Impasse Carrière-Mainguet? If you ever wanna chat, it’s pretty quiet. All the usual crowds are sleeping off Saturday night.”

Adrien is still staring at her, but now a small smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Carlotta smiles sincerely at him as they enter the science lab, before hurrying over to the desk she shares with Ivan. Adrien sits down in his own spot next to Nino, but throws a full smile over his shoulder at Carlotta before Ms Mendeleiev enters and begins explaining that day’s experiment.

As they begin organising the equipment for studying the combustion enthalpy of butanol, Carlotta ponders that, while Adrien is unlikely to take her up on her offer, she feels glad that it seems to have done something towards making him feel a little less crappy. That’s all you can hope for, after all.

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

Sunday, 11am

Skatepark de Charonne

11th Arrondissement

Paris, France

As his Chat Noir transformation melts away and Plagg tucks himself into his favourite pocket, Adrien watches as Carlotta effortlessly slides her skateboard along the park’s flatrail and ollies off it before effortlessly mounting the half-pipe ramp. True to her word, the skatepark is almost entirely deserted, and she stands out against the tranquil scenery, a vibrantly energetic figure clad in a floral turquoise summer dress and matching cardigan. It’s an outfit that seems far too bizarrely formal for skateboarding in, and it’s a far cry from her normal wardrobe of scruffy cargo shorts and appliqué-adorned crop-tops, although she’s refused to part with her stripy knee socks and scuffed red converse. But before he can do anything more than ponder this, she spots him and waves.

“Adrien! Hola!”

Adrien waves back and approaches her as she easily turns the board around, exits the half-pipe, and tail-flips the board into the air, catching it and tucking it under her arm. “Didn’t think you’d come,” Carlotta admits, sitting down on one of the benches at the edge of the skating area. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah,” Adrien smiles, sitting next to her and leaning back. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance, but it’s the Gorilla’s day off, and Nathalie had to help Father with… well, I think he locked himself out of his own iPad, so they might be there a while. I took my chance and snuck out the back window.”

“Adults versus tech, huh?” Carlotta laughs, removing her helmet and shaking out her hair. “My dad nearly spontaneously combusted last year when my sister Geneviéve filled up his harddrive with photobooth selfies. Couldn’t figure out how to get rid of them, poor guy. Mom called the computer store when it started looking like he might tear out his moustache.”

Adrien laughs with her. Carlotta isn’t someone he’s particularly close to - he really only knows her through Marinette - but she’s funny and easy to talk to, and like every friendship he’s made since starting school, talking and laughing with someone makes his heart feel the lightest it has in a long time.

“So what’s with the dress?” he asks, the tiniest hint of teasing creeping into his voice. Carlotta groans.

“I didn’t want to miss you if you did come, so I didn’t bother changing after Mass.”

“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not good at it,” Carlotta laughs. “I really only go to make my parents happy.”

Adrien feels a little twinge in his chest at that. “I get that,” he says softly. “You don’t wanna let them down.” Even though you feel like you can never be who they want you to be.

Carlotta sighs, but it seems to be an agreeing noise, and they fall into amiable silence, broken only when Adrien compliments her helmet: it’s purple with a light-blue cartoon whale sticker on one side. Carlotta smiles and taps it lightly with her fingers.

“Can’t be too careful.” She pauses, tilting her head at him, then - “So, you wanted to chat?”

Adrien sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly. “Yeah. I, uh, I’m not really sure where to start -”

“You can just talk,” Carlotta suggests, surveying him through her thick eyelashes. “Just whatever’s on your mind. And I’ll listen. If you want.”

He nods, because that does sound good. Over the next half-hour, Adrien tells her everything - how his mom vanished two years ago, how he doesn’t know if she walked out or was kidnapped or what happened, if she ever intends on coming back, if she’s even alive, how much he misses her; and then he explains how not once through his grieving process - because he’s almost crushed with grief for losing her - has he been able to turn to his father for support. Adrien just wants to keep the last parental relationship he has, but his father forces him to make an appointment before even giving him the time of day, and while his existence up until this point has been lonely in general, that was nothing compared to what it’s been like these last few years, with no mother, and a father who seems intent on locking his son out of his life. How last year, he’d felt like they might be ready to move on and accept that this was the Agreste family’s new normal, but his father had brought all that crashing down with only a few words, and now they’re two years in and Adrien feels more confused about it than ever.

“I just thought,” he tells Carlotta, his voice hoarse with how much he’s been talking, and he’s definitely going to be in deep shit later if he can’t disguise it, “maybe this week… he’d want to be closer. Want to talk or spend time together, anything. Acknowledge that we can still find a way to be a family. But I couldn’t even make an appointment. He’s… too busy. And I know he misses her too, probably even more than I do, and that this is just his way of dealing with that, but… I just hoped that… this time… it would be… different.”

Carlotta, true to her word, has listened intently the whole time, occasionally nodding slightly, a trace of a frown adorning her face. She’s silent as he slumps back, her dark brown eyes scanning him slowly, as if to gauge whether or not he has anything else he needs to get out. But he’s told her everything he’s never been able to really tell anyone (short of the fact that his only escape from this painful homelife is donning the Chat Noir costume and fighting supervillains), and when he doesn’t speak for two whole minutes, she shifts sitting positions so one leg is now tucked up onto the bench, the other still dangling with her converse toe scuffing the ground slightly.

“Is it…” she says slowly. “Would it be okay, Adrien, if I told you a story?”

“Uh. Sure. I guess.”

“Just… I have some advice for you - you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. It’s just one person’s opinion. But it doesn’t make sense without the story - or, well, it makes more sense. With the context added.”

Adrien mulls this over. What little time he has spent with her has given him the impression that Carlotta Suero-Dupain is not the type to give someone advice in bad faith, so he nods. “Go for it.”

Carlotta gnaws her bottom lip. “Alright. So… You know how I trip over my own feet a lot, and some days I can’t walk in a straight line, and sometimes I use a sight cane at school?”

Adrien nods; Carlotta doesn’t trip quite as often as Marinette does, but she’s got a reputation for being clumsy, and in the past he’s wondered if her occasional stumbling and wobbling while she walks might have been a sign of too much teenage freedom. As for the sight cane, it had taken him by surprise the first time he saw her with it, carefully sensing her way up the stairs to class, but he’s vaguely aware that she seems to have trouble seeing where she’s going all the time.

“It’s because, about two years ago, I had an accident while I was skateboarding. It was a really stupid one. I went backwards down a hill, which I shouldn’t have done in the first place, and I hadn’t planned how to break… then I hit a high curb. I flew twenty feet, then skidded another ten, and I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up in hospital. I’d been…” Her voice wobbles a little, but she soldiers on. “I’d been put in an induced coma. And when I woke up, I couldn’t see anything because I had to wear eyepatches while my eyes were recovering. Because… when I landed, it caused permanent brain damage.”

“Oh,” Adrien says quietly, because he’s not sure what else he can say to that.

“My occipital lobe was… It took a really bad hit. It’s like I can only see the right of everything, because the left side of my visual field is just… gone. It was my right side that I landed on, and brains flip everything around, so…” Carlotta laughs bitterly. “I have to use the cane on low atmospheric pressure days, because I get migraines that make it too hard to see at all, really. My arm and ribs got it pretty bad too. It’s pretty much all scar tissue from my shoulder to my waist on that side. Sometimes I can’t move my fingers properly.” She kicks at the ground, gnawing her lip again. “My brother and sister saw it happen.”

“God,” Adrien breathes, horrified at the thought. Carlotta's lips press together; there’s a sadness in her expression that he isn’t used to seeing from her.

“Yeah. They… they didn’t realise anything was wrong, at first. When I didn’t get up, they just thought I was joking, that I was doing a bit. And…” she laughs, and it sounds sad, but also very genuine, “Juanito drew a chalk outline around me. He thought it was funny. But when I still didn’t get up… I think Juanito still blames himself for it.”

She sighs heavily.

“He told me once that sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he just lies there thinking about it and wondering, what if he hadn’t goofed around? What if, instead of drawing a chalk outline, he’d checked to see if I was okay? He would have seen that… my helmet was completely cracked open at the back. He would have got to our parents quicker, and I’d have gone to the hospital quicker, and maybe the damage wouldn’t have been as severe. And I think that way myself too, sometimes. What if I’d planned better? What if I’d never tried to do the stupid stunt in the first place?”

“I’m so sorry,” Adrien whispers. Carlotta gently pats his arm.

“But that’s the thing, Adrien. You can’t go through life thinking like that. Because the past is the past, but time keeps marching on. You have to find a way to keep living. Because your mom might not be around, but you’re still here. You’re still living and growing and thinking and hurting. You have to find a way to live with it, even if your father can’t. Sorry if it seems harsh…”

Adrien shakes his head. Her words make a lot of sense. “It’s not. Is that how you can still skate even after…?”

Carlotta smiles and nods. “Yup. Found a way. I don’t want to let worry or fear run my life. Not everyone can manage it, because sometimes that’s life. But some fools are luckier than others, and I’m one of the ones who got lucky. If I hadn’t been wearing a helmet…”

She shivers.

“It could have been way worse. Some people think it’s reckless of me to keep skating after what happened, but I’m not stupid. I learned to skate with my off-foot forward. I come to this skatepark when it’s quiet, I know every inch of it like the back of my hand, I don’t skate when it’s crowded or if I don’t know what the topography is like. Next year I’ll be able to get prism contacts, so I won’t have such a massive blind-spot. And it sucks sometimes, that I can’t do exactly what I want. But it means I can keep living my life. We can’t let our grief for the past take away our future. And you can’t let your father’s ongoing pain stop you from allowing yours to heal.”

She gets up at that, dropping her skateboard onto the ground and rolling it experimentally under her right foot. It occurs to Adrien that most people skate with their left foot at the front, leaving their right free to manoeuvre with. But that’s not an option for Carlotta. He wonders how hard it was to learn how to completely reverse her entire stance. It must have taken so much time and effort and patience. But she managed it, and it’s become so natural to her that if she hadn’t told him, he wouldn’t have noticed.

Find a way to keep living.

“How do I do that?” he finds himself asking. “Keep on living?”

Carlotta shrugs. “It’s up to you. Find a new hobby. Start back with an old one. Make the most of the relationships that aren’t in flux right now. You have a lot of friends, Adrien,” she smiles. “Everyone in our class thinks you’re great. I get wanting to avoid Lila, and I know your schedule is tight, but everyone else is willing to be there for you, if you show them a way that they can do that.”

She grins. There’s a long white scar on her cheek; it stretches when her mouth moves, but not in an ugly way. It looks like someone’s drawn a line on her face to connect up her dark freckles like they’re constellations.

“Hey, if you’ve got the rest of the day off, I know Marinette usually bakes on Sundays. Y’know, in their actual kitchen, rather than in the bakery. She’d probably dig your company.”

“Are you sure?” It seems too good to be true - Marinette is so sweet, and her baking is always amazing, but he can’t help but feel she’s unusually reserved with him, in a way she isn’t with everyone else.

“Trust me. Very sure. She just gets overwhelmed easily, like, in her head and stuff. Overthinks everything. But…” Carlotta’s grin widens. The scar becomes a perfect semicircle. “She keeps living in spite of it. And she’d love to hang out with you.” She clips on her helmet, and Adrien knows the conversation is over.

“Carlotta?”

Carlotta looks back at him; for the first time, he consciously notices how she turns further around to face him than most people would. Of course. Missing vision field.

“Thanks. I mean it.”

Carlotta smiles gently at him. “You’re still here, Adrien. Don’t let the world change who you are for people who can’t understand that.”

She pushes off, rolling away from the bench towards the half-pipe. Adrien watches her leave, feeling unusually peaceful. Marinette doesn’t live far from here. It’s shaping up into a pretty okayish day after all.

He’s still here.

#ml writers guild #august event 2022 #queercosette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fic #miraculous oc #mlb #miraculous #adrien agreste #carlotta suero-dupain #cn: trauma #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

[trulee-peachy]

Oh no afssggdddf I’m thinking about having my feet cared for while the dom teases that I’m so sensitive to pleasure there agdsdf🥺💞🦋🦋

#me: yeah I dunno I’m sadly good at keeping my emotions in #also me the minute a feather touched my sore foot: agfssghdsfff🥺🦋😣 #i need a teasy massage plz n thank #i wanna suffer while my body relaxes agfsfgf #peachyfeet #peachylikey #peachynsfw #peachyblurb #peachyhighrambles

[t0shii]

kirishima, denki and sero getting their feelings hurt by their s/o who didn't mean to hurt them and just said/did something mean in the spurt of the moment with happy ending?? i'm in the mood for angst and fluff lol, that's it, that's the tweet. </3

% you accidentally hurt their feelings

.! kirishima, denki, sero (sep) x gn!r

.! fluff (angst if u squint) / not proofread

.! ah tysm for the request! hope this fulfills your requests hehe

kirishima

- gives you the benefit of the doubt

- "they definitely didn't mean to do that" n ignores the sadness pooling in his heart :((

- but eventually he can hide his feelings anymore and it's obvious he's upset about something

- give him a big kiss pls :(

the both of you were just chilling in his dorm, having random conversations until the topic of quirks came up. "yeah i don't know my quirk is kind of, i don't know boring? it's not flashy like yours or bakugou's." he sighs "hm that's true, that's why i'm glad mine is cool." you chuckle and he basically deflates as your sentence progresses. "mhm." is all he says as he continues scrolling through his phone.

it's not til a little later you realize he's acting all gloomy and too quiet, "kiri? is something wrong?" you ask, sitting up to look at him properly. "and don't say 'no' because i can see something is wrong." he frowns, eyes turning glossy, "do you really agree that my quirk is boring?" he asks, looking down to his hands. "what? of course not! i think your quirk amazing. when did i say it was boring?" "earlier... i said my quirk was boring and you said 'that's true.'" you take his hand in yours, "kiri, i was agreeing that his is flashy. baby, just because your quirk is so flashy as bakugou's doesn't mean it's boring. i think your quirk is super interesting, plus it makes you look super manly!" you smile at him gently, "i never meant to say your quirk was boring, i'm sorry kiri." "you mean it?" "of course, there's not a single boring thing about you-" you press a kiss to his lips, "quirk included, my love."

denki

- sadly is used to people not really caring about his feelings

- so he just ignores it

- but isn't good at hiding his emotions, especially when he's sad so ofc you notice:(

- a big hug is needed

"denki, c'mon i just went over this." "i'm sorry y/n, i just can't understand it!" "yes you can if you'd actually try!" you'd trying your best to tutor your boyfriend in a subject he was struggling in but it was proving to be a waste of time, he wasn't retaining a bit of information. "i am trying y/n." he mumbles, "alright let's go over it again." you explain the problem again and help him work through it and though he has trouble concentrating because of what you said, he eventually finishes the assignment.

a few hours later, you're both laying in his bed. one hand combing through his hair while the other scrolls through your phone and his head is resting on your tummy you hear a soft sniffle. "kami? everything okay?" he feels like a fool for crying over something that happened so long ago, "yeah." he answers wobbly, "denki, baby, what's wrong?" you've already put your phone away by now, "it's nothing y/n, really." "babe, c'mon what's the matter?" you wipe a stray tear falling down his cheek with your thumb. "i was trying my best to understand earlier, i really was. i'm so sorry i can't be as smart as you or midoriya." immediately, you feel horrible for snapping at him earlier, "i'm sorry for saying that, and snapping at you. i shouldn't have and it was wrong of me. i know you're only trying your best to prepare for the exam, and i'm so so proud of you." "you mean it?" he sits up to look at you, "of course silly, i'm always proud of you! no matter what." you wrap your arms around his waist in a hug, "i'm sorry for hurting your feelings." "it's okay, if we keep hugging like this it'll make up for it."

sero

- is honest with you

- "hey babe, that kind of hurt my feelings."

- knows you wouldn't hurt him on purpose but is still upset ofc

- cuddles will make up for it, i promise

"babe, don't you think your hair is getting a bit long?" you ask, fingers running through sero's hair as he nuzzles his face deeper into the crook of your neck. "nuh uh, i've been wanting to grow it out," he answers arms tightening around your waist. "i thought you liked my hair long? i think it looks good" "i liked your shorter hair though." you mumble fingers twirling a strand of hair. "oh." "mhm" "so you don't think i look good with long hair? that hurt's my feelings y/n." he mutters, removing himself from your grasp, "no-" "really? i thought it looked really good." he frowns at you "no sero, baby, i think it looks good too! i thought you preferred your hair short though, so i always liked it too."

"but you think my long hair looks bad?" he crosses his arms, "not at all, i think you look handsome." now your frown deepens, "i didn't mean it like you look bad with long hair, i just said i liked your snort hair. you look good either way!" you sit up to face him, "sero, honestly i think you look good with your hair like it is, even if you had oh i dunno... a bowl cut, you'd still look hot." you nod, he chuckles and raises his eye brow, "oh really? so if i give myself a bowl cut right now you'd be all over me telling me how beautiful i am?" "of course i would." he sighs and nods, "i'm sorry for misinterpreting your words." he leans his forhead against yours, "no, i should've been more clear, i didn't mean to make you self conscious." you lean in to kiss him, "i'm not getting a bowl cut by the way." "that's fine with me, i like your hair how it is."

< reblogs appreciated >

#works.! #kirishima eijirou #denki kaminari #sero hanta #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima hcs #kirishima headcanons #kirishima fluff #denki x reader #denki x y/n #denki hcs #denki headcanons #denki fluff #sero x reader #sero x y/n #sero hcs #sero headcanons #sero fluff #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha fluff

[wrenhyperfixates]

Not as Bad as You Think

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After a bad grade on a test, Peter is being very hard on himself. Loki helps you cheer him up. Warnings: none A/N: Enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” you comforted Peter, patting his back.

“You’re right,” he replied, voice muffled by the pillow he was hiding his face in. “It’s probably worse.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The disgruntled teenager rolled over onto his back and gave you a look somewhere between annoyed and upset. He’d come home to the Tower saying he failed a big History test he’d had. Despite him saying he failed, you were pretty sure he was just over-exaggerating. The boy kept up a nearly perfect gpa and was an Avenger. It was no easy feat, and you knew how much pressure he put on himself to keep up his good grades. You wished he’d go a little easier on himself.

“Besides,” you continued when he said nothing, “even if it is bad, everyone’s allowed one not so great grade every once in a while. You’re still doing great, kid.”

“I guess,” he mumbled halfheartedly, smooshing his face against the pillow again.

You frowned. During the time Peter had been on the team, he’d become something of a little brother to you. You hated to see him down like this. It was easy to remember all the normal pressures of being a teen, and he had the pressures of being a superhero on top of that. Sometimes you wished he took a day just to be a kid. Though, when you said that, you meant more of him taking some time off to have fun, not stress about his grades.

“I know what will fix this,” you said with a smile.

“Cookies?” he said, peeking up at you again.

“Yup. And hot chocolate. How does that sound, Petey?”

“Well, I don’t know I deserve it,” he started before seeing the stern look on your face, telling him to ease up himself. “But yeah, I want some.”

You stood and ruffled his hair. “Coming right up.”

Taking your frustrations out on the cookie dough you were mixing and cocoa you were whisking, you tried to figure out a way to get Peter to enjoy his youth. You were so focused, you didn’t notice when Loki came in, and he was able to snag one of the freshly baked treats before you could smack his hand away.

“Naughty Loki. Those are for Peter,” you giggled, poking him in the side.

“And you can’t spare just this one for me, darling?”

“I suppose you can be my taste-tester,” you grinned, giving him a kiss before he could take another bite.

“Thank you, my love.” You smiled at your boyfriend as he polished off his treat and licked his lips in delight. He pulled you into a hug and rested his head on yours. “Delicious as always, darling.”

“Thank you, Loki, but I have to keep my eye on the hot chocolate.”

“Allow me to guess, that is for the spiderling, too?” he inquired, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet for you to pour the warm liquid into.

“Mhm,” you replied. “He had a bad day, and I was trying to cheer him up. Nothing was working, though, so I’m hoping these treats will.”

Loki knew how close you were with Peter, and he loved seeing your older sibling instincts take over, despite not actually being related to the boy. Admittedly, he was glad Thor didn’t act the way you did. If that was in his nature, Loki was sure the God of Thunder would be entirely overbearing. He had started acting a bit more brotherly recently, however, which was nice. Of course, all that just meant Loki wasn’t exactly the best equipped to help sibling problems.

Loki frowned as he wiped a few spilt drops of hot chocolate from the counter. Your brow was furrowed in concentration and thought, and he pulled you back to kiss the lines of worry away. He hated seeing you upset or distraught in any way. After all you’d done for him in showing him he was worthy for love, he never wanted you to experience a single bad emotion. He knew it was part of being human, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And he could do everything in his power to keep those negative feelings at a minimum.

“Darling, why don’t you just take it easy. I will go take these things to the spiderling and have a chat to cheer him up,” he told you, rubbing up and down your arms. “I will take care of it.”

“I don’t know, Loki. Nothing I was saying was working. And I feel kinda bad to let you take care of this while I put my feet up.”

“Well then, allow me to handle this, and you can make me some of that delicious hot chocolate.”

“Fine.” You smiled at the way he was so concerned, not just for you, but for Peter, too. And of course you’d be more than happy to make him some cocoa, even if he was just suggesting that so you would take it a bit easier. “Just tell me if he’s still feeling down, alright?”

“We have a deal, darling. Leave it to me.”

And so, the trickster god found himself outside Peter’s door, trying to figure out what exactly to say to him. Before the drink could get cold, he just knocked and hoped the right words would come to him. Peter beckoned him in, and Loki walked inside, cookies and cocoa in hand.

“Oh, hey Loki,” Peter said, sounding sad. Though, he did perk up when he saw the snacks.

“Greetings, spiderling. I hear you are having some troubles. Perhaps I could help?”

“I dunno.” He took a cookie off the plate and dunked it into his drink. Then he offered Loki one, which he gladly accepted. “There’s not much that can be done. Unless...”

“Unless?”

“Can your magic turn back time?”

“Sadly, no,” he laughed. “But maybe you’d just like to talk about what it is that is plaguing you?”

“I guess,” he sighed. “I got a bad grade on a test. And I studied so, so hard. I thought I did way better, but I just didn’t. I’m supposed to be able to handle all the pressure and stress, but I just don’t think I can. I need to try harder, do better.”

“Come now, spiderling. From what I hear, you are doing wonderful in your classes.” Loki hesitantly pat the boy on his back. “There is only one life to live, and it is not very long. You should be enjoying each minute to its fullest.”

“Haven’t you resurrected like three times, though? And aren’t you thousands of years old?”

“Regardless,” Loki waved the comment off, “none of it is worth it if you are not enjoying life. You are doing wonderful, we could not be more proud of you. Just be proud of yourself and a little kinder to yourself, too.”

“You really think so?”

“I may be the God of Lies,” Loki chuckled, “but I assure you, I could not be more honest in this moment.”

“Well then, if I’m supposed to be doing stuff I enjoy, do you maybe want to do a movie marathon?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect. You may pick what we watch, too.”

“Yes!” he cheered. “I hardly ever get to pick!”

As Peter set off to grab pillows and blankets and set up the movie, after finishing his treats of course, Loki waltzed into the kitchen with a sly grin on his face. He walked up behind you and hugged you. You jumped a little at first, but quickly recognized the arms encircling your waist. You leaned back into his chest and smiled up at him.

“It went well, I take it,” you said.

“Indeed it did. In fact, we are having a movie marathon. You are, of course, welcome to join.”

You decided to take him up on that offer and handed him his hot chocolate. You made some popcorn, too, and put it into two bowls; one for Peter, and one for you and Loki to share. Peter sat on the floor by the TV where he’d set up the original Star Wars trilogy to play, and you and your boyfriend snuggled together on the couch. About halfway through the second movie, a thought occurred to you.

“Hey, Petey,” you said. “What grade exactly did you get on that test.”

“Oh, uh, that? Who cares,” he scoffed, though he’d gone bright red and wouldn’t meet your eye. “You wouldn’t want to hear about that.”

“Peter.”

“Fine,” he sighed. He ducked his head and mumbled his grade. “I got an 85.”

“Peter! That’s amazing!” You didn’t know whether to cheer for him or strangle him. You decided playfully hitting him with a pillow was the way to go.

“Loki! Help!” he laughed as he tried to block your attacks.

“Coming to your rescue, spiderling!”

The three of you ended up in a pillow fight, and eventually collapsed in a pile on the floor, out of breath from laughing. You smiled at your boys and realized that even if things were difficult sometimes, you always had each other’s backs. It was more than just Peter being like your little brother, or Loki being your boyfriend. You were a whole little family, and really, who could ask for more than that?

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #reader insert #gender netural reader #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel oneshot #loki x y/n #peter parker #spiderman

[hangovercurse]

Mind Over Matter

A phone call at 4 in the morning turns into a very deep conversation with your good friend, Pete.

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, existential philosophy

A/N: Inspired by Mind Over Matter by PVRIS

Word Count: 1771

There was nothing you hated more than being woken up at 4am on your day off. But someone had decided that they needed to call you, so you were awake. Your hand reached around for your phone, your head not lifting from the pillow. Once you found it you brought the screen to your eyes, squinting.

You couldn’t help but feel a little less angry when you saw Pete’s contact picture. Of course it would be him calling you at 4 am.

“Hey, Pete, what’s up?” Your voice came out scratchy and hoarse, a side effect of just waking up.

You could hear his heavy breathing on the other side, and your mind immediately went into worry mode. “Y/N I’m kind of really freaked out right now.”  

You sat up on the bed, turning your lamp on, “What’s going on?” Your feet touched the cold floor of your bedroom as you stood up, stumbling tiredly to your dresser and throwing on a pair of sweatpants.

“I’m really trippin’ out right now.” You could hear how far gone he was now that you were more awake.

You sighed, stopping your rushed actions. “Pete, I thought you weren’t taking that much anymore? Remember you said you wanted to get better?”

He let out a breath, “I know, I had a bad day. But the drugs aren’t helping. Everything feels so much worse and I’m really scared. You told me to call you whenever I needed someone and I really need you.”

You tried to keep your breathing steady, so he couldn’t hear how sad you were. Pete had been working so hard to get to a good place, and he was so close. To hear him so upset crushed you. “Okay, I’m on my way over. Are you gonna be okay for a few minutes while I’m on my way over there?”

You grabbed your keys from your counter and threw on your slip-on vans. “Can you stay on the phone with me?” His voice was timid, and you frowned.

“Of course, Pete. I’m leaving my house right now.” Luckily, his house was only a few blocks down from yours, so you were there in no time. You stayed on the phone with Pete the whole time, not saying much but reassuring him you were coming.

When you got to his home, you walked around the house to Pete’s door. “Hey, Petey, I’m gonna come in, okay?” You asked through the door, hand on the handle. Your best friend gave you a small noise of confirmation, so you let yourself in. You found him sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the foot of his bed.

You walked towards him slowly, settling on the ground in front of him. You took in his appearance, the dark bags under his eyes, the tear tracks on his cheeks, the ruffled hair from him running a hand through it too much. He reached out and grabbed your hand, holding it in his. You didn’t want to force him to talk, so you sat in silence until he was ready.

“How do I know that you’re real?” He asked, his voice low.

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand, “Because I’m sitting in front of you.”

He shook his head, dropping your hand and letting out a sigh. “Yeah, but how do I know that this isn’t just something I’ve made up in my head?”

You smiled, “Pete, can you tell me what you took?” You assumed he was worried you were a hallucination from shrooms.

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I mean I took shrooms but I’m not talking about that. I mean how do I know that anything is real?”

“What do you mean, Pete?” You’d only seen this side of Pete a handful of times.

He looked up at you, his eyes finding yours. “I mean like, what if everything is just in my head? Like I don’t know that you’re real, I don’t know if anything is true. What if this is just some dream I’m having and I’m gonna wake up one day and it’s gonna be gone?”

You scooted closer to the man, your arm reaching out to him. “Reach out your hand and hold mine.” He did as he was told, and you intertwined your fingers. “Can you feel that?” You asked him.

He nodded, “But what if I’m just imagining it?”

You bit your lip, trying to find a way to calm him down. “Pete, this isn’t in your head, I promise. Your brain is just in a weird place right now. I am very real.” Your voice was soft, trying not to worry him.

“But I don’t know that Y/N. All I know is that I really want this to be real.” His voice gave away how scared he really was.

You reached your free hand to touch his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his skin gently. “I need you to trust me, Petey. I am just as real as you are.”

He leaned into your touch, a soft smile on his face. “I just don’t know how you can be real. Like I had to have made you up, no one like you would be friends with a guy like me.”

You frowned, moving so you were beside Pete on your knees, and wrapped your arms around him. You didn’t really know how to respond to that, he’d never said anything like it before. “And I mean, you’re so perfect. Like I feel like such a perfect person shouldn’t exist. That’s why I’m scared that you’re just some kind of dream.”

He leaned his body into yours, his head resting on your shoulder. “I’m not a dream, Pete. I’m really here, and I’m not gonna go anywhere.” You whispered, your nose brushing the side of his head. “If I wasn’t real, could I be holding you right now?”

He pulled away from you and you could tell he was starting to come down just a little bit, hopefully enough to pull him out of his thoughts. “I don’t know.” He mumbled, looking down.

You reached up to his jaw, moving his face so that he was looking at you. Your other hand ran through his hair, causing his eyes to close. “Could I do this?”

He smiled, looking like a cat whose head was being pet. “I guess not.”

You leaned closer to him, taking in all the features you knew so well. All the features you loved. And you knew you definitely shouldn’t kiss him, but if for some reason it went really badly, he probably wouldn’t remember and at least you would know. But you didn’t want to take advantage of his state. But it was just a kiss.

“If I wasn’t real, could I do this?” You whispered, your lips millimeters away from him. You paused, looking into his eyes, trying to read his emotions. You didn’t get much of a chance though, as Pete crashed his lips onto yours, one hand going around your waist and the other to the back of your neck.

You kissed him back, your lips moving together in sync. As cliché as it sounds, it felt right. As if you and Pete had been made for this moment.

When you pulled away for air, he rested his forehead on yours. “Okay, you’re definitely not real.” He muttered, out of breath.

You smiled, rolling your eyes slightly. “Eventually you’re just gonna have to accept that I am, in fact, a real person.”

“No real person like you would kiss me.”

“Well, I just did.” You smiled, “And I’ll do it again.”

You brought your head to meet his, lips colliding once again. Pete pulled you closer to him, so you were fully on your knees. He brought his hand to the back of your thigh, pulling your leg over him so you were sitting on his lap in front of him.

“Will you stop invalidating my existence now?” You asked with a giggle. Pete smiled, nodding in response. “Do you wanna talk about why you had a bad day?”

Your hand moved to gently run up and down his arm, trying to keep him calm. “I dunno, sometimes it just kind of happens, I guess. And then I got this email from Lorne about the show next week, and Colson won’t text me back, and I just got really messed up about all of it.” You nodded, letting him continue. “I’m sorry that I took all this shit. And that I called you so late. Sorry you have to deal with all my shit.”

You frowned, tilting your head, and resting one head on his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry, Pete. You had a bad day, it happens. You took shrooms, it’s okay. Everyone relapses, its part of getting better. But Peter Michael Davidson, don’t ever apologize for needing me. I told you to call me, I want you to call me when things get bad. I’d rather you wake me up every day for the rest of my life than for you to suffer alone. I don’t wanna think about what could happen if you don’t call me.”

He nodded, and you smiled sadly at him. “You’re my best friend, Pete. I’m here for you, no matter what. People love you and care about you.” You paused, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He whispered, leaning so his forehead was resting against yours. “Can I kiss you again?”

You chuckled, pecking his lips before moving backwards. “As much as I would love that, you’re still pretty high. We need to get you some water and some sleep and then maybe, if you still want to kiss me tomorrow, we can see.”

He pouted as you stood up, walking to grab the water bottle from his desk. When you stood in front of him, he reached up with both arms, making grabby hands at you. You held out the water bottle for him to take, but he just swatted at it. You realized what he wanted and rolled your eyes, grabbing onto his hands and pulling him up, struggling against gravity.

“Can you stay here for tonight?” He asked, looking down at you with big brown eyes.

You sighed, knowing he probably wasn’t sober enough to be making that decision. “I’ll stay, but I’m gonna sleep on the couch.” You smiled, pushing him towards his bed. He whined, but you ignored him and walked away. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You said, shaking your head.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson angst #pete davidson fluff

[pokemonswshfics]

I was extremely happy with the result of the scenarios of boys with a reader who suffered bullying. I am super happy that you did not ignore my request even though it is a bit morbid, your writing is super nice and full of details just wonderful! Can I request again? If so, this time only with Piers and Raihan, where Fem S/O who is their friend/Crush now, but she still has little scared because of the bullyng, and in a moment she ends up flinching, thinking that they would hit her.

i'm so glad you liked the result of that request anon ^-^ 💞 and thank you so much, i really appreciate it :") here you go, have a good read everyone! ❤

((for everyone that's new to my work, this is a part two of a previous fic i wrote :D you can find it here if you'd like ))

Raihan/Piers × Fem!Reader || Oneshots (Sfw)

Piers (Sfw)

You and Piers had been spending more time together since the attack, it was usually smiles and teasing when you two were together.

However, this time was different, by a lot. You were both agitated with the other because of a playful battle you had, and how terribly your Pokemon had met.

"Tell your Obstagoon that my Alcremie isn't food." You huffed at him as you walked out of the Spikemuth Pokemon center, putting your Alcremie's Pokeball back into your bag. "He almost bit one of her berries off!"

"So? That's how he plays. Like trainer, like Pokemon." Piers grinned slyly while you frowned.

"That's not appropriate right now! She could have seriously been hurt."

He rolled his eyes now at your statement. "It was a Pokemon battle? They're supposed to get hurt."

You crossed your arms and glared at him. "You forfeited the match! He bit her when she was caught off guard- that wasn't fair!"

"You're kinda cute when you're mad. Like a Jigglypuff trying to intimidate something."

Your cheeks began to burn, and you tried frowning even more to try and mask it. "Stop it! Learn how to get your Pokemon under control, if you even can."

"What did you say?"

"If you even can. I didn't stutter."

Piers stopped smiling and glared back, "Teach yours how to take a hit. One thing hits 'em, and they need the ER or some shit."

You two were walking quickly now, with you a foot or so in front of him. "You can be so mean sometimes, Piers." You groaned in an upset tone and felt angry tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes.

"You started it!"

"I did not-!"

You turned around suddenly and froze.

Piers had his hand raised at a certain angle.

Any and all anger in your head turned to fear instantly, and you put your arms up to shield your face.

"Please don't!" You knew Piers was your rival, but you had never expected him to threaten physical violence. It reminded you too much of your attack, how Alcremie had also been hurt, how you argued with the attackers before it happened. While you waited for any type of hit, memories of the attack rushed through your head. From the initial first hit to Piers helping you when you encountered him. Your angry tears were now unexplainable, being a mixture of anger and hurt.

After a few moments, you still didn't feel anything. You were too scared to put your arms down voluntarily.

Then you felt his hand on your forearm, lightly touching it at first then wrapping his fingers around it. Piers lowered your arm with a soft and sad look on his face.

"Did you think I was gonna hit you?"

Your breath hitched in your throat once you saw his hair. His hair that usually fell in front of his face was slightly tussled.

Piers had raised his hand simply to run his fingers through it.

"I..I'm sorry." You whimpered out and tried to keep tears from falling. "I thought you would- You seemed so mad and-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, alright? I should be the one apologizin'. I'll be more careful around ya." He rubbed the part of your forearm he had a hold on, then lowered your other arm that was shielding the lower part of your face. "I'm really sorry."

"D-Don't be!" You stammered out and felt a tear fall. You groaned and went to wipe it, but Piers beat you to it. His hand was suddenly on your cheek, his thumb wiping it away.

"You can let it out, not here to judge. What happened to you was serious, so yeah there's gonna be times it'll..come back to you but," Piers sighed then moved the hand that was on your other arm to your waist, bringing you closer to him. "I'll be right here."

You looked up at him and slowly relaxed in his arms. A small and sad smile appeared on your face, which he returned.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I got mad about Alcremie. I'm sure you can get Obstagoon under control, I didn't mean it." You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder, shakily breathing. This was the closest you had been to Piers and you weren't complaining. He felt warm, and something you couldn't really pinpoint.

You stayed in his hold for a few seconds, his arms still holding you close. One of his hands was on your head, rubbing the back of it in a loving manner. As he continued, your whimpers and sniffles slowed.

"Are you okay now?" Piers whispered to you, slightly turning his head to face yours. With teary eyes, you looked up from his shoulder to him. Your faces were only inches apart, but neither was pulling away.

"Ah..Y-Yeah. Thank you.." You said and blushed at the closeness while feeling your tears come to a complete stop.

You silently thanked everything you've ever believed in that the streets of Spikemuth were empty. How would it look, Piers holding his 'hated' rival so close? Your lips only inches apart?

You pulled away out of pure nerves, you could barely handle Piers so close. You took a step back from him and nervously gripped the strap of your bag, attempting to calm the blush on your cheeks. When you looked up at Piers, he had a similar light shade tinting his cheeks.

"Uh- Let's get going. Alcremie's probably tired or somethin'.." Piers finally said and stepped up to you, pointing to your bag. "We can go back to my place."

You smiled up at him and nodded in agreement, turning to begin to walk.

Then you felt a tug on your sleeve.

Piers hand pulled at the hem of the sleeve, then moved his hand slightly down to your palm. You looked down at your hands, and realized what he was doing while looking straight ahead.

You shyly smiled and looked ahead as well, lacing your fingers with his. He didn't acknowledge it other than with a now visible small smile on his face, and you didn't acknowledge it either. It was now that you could finally pinpoint what you felt earlier in Piers' arms.

I'm safe.

The only thought that resided in your mind anymore was the safety you felt with Piers, as you walked to his home in comfortable silence.

***

Raihan (Sfw)

"This is actually really good, dunno why you didn't wanna share." Raihan smiled while he chewed his food, cupcakes you had made.

You two sat next to each other beneath a tree in the wild area, while your Pokemon played far away but in your lines of sight. When you told Raihan you made something for you two to eat together, but didn't want to share because you were scared it tasted bad- he practically dug into the bag himself to take out the container.

"You think so?" You asked smiling and fiddled with your hands, still thinking he might be lying. While he nodded in answer, you took a bite out of yours to see if he was just being nice.

"Riiiiiight?" He teased as soon as he saw your face light up. You covered your mouth while you chewed and giggled. You rolled your eyes and swallowed, feeling a bit of frosting on your cheek.

"Excuse me."

You reached over Raihan's lap for a napkin, when he spoke quickly in return.

"I got it."

"Oh, I-" You didn't have time to process his next movement, a quick and sharp one.

In the blink of an eye, Raihan's hand was out, to reach for your face. He was so close, you couldn't help but remember the man who hit you during the attack. You felt as if you blinked, Raihan would turn into your attacker. Out of instinct...

You flinched.

It was noticeable, nothing major but you felt your eyes shut almost on their own. You backed up, and now took your hand away from over Raihan's lap.

Your eyes stayed shut until you felt a warm hand rest on your cheek. The touch was tender, nothing like what your body had anticipated. The touch made you open your eyes to see Raihan, smiling sadly.

"Hey. You're safe, I won't hurt you. Ever, okay?" He sighed. His usual teasing smile, the playfulness in his voice, was all replaced by seriousness and care.

You locked eyes with him, and felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks. The memories from the attack stopped as soon as you looked at Raihan. You didn't want to admit it- especially to him- but he made everything bad..go away. The attack had certainly made a difference in your life, you never went out alone, you were paranoid, worried. The only moments you felt you were truly free from the thoughts of it, and what they brought to your emotions, were when you were with Raihan.

"You there?", Raihan let out a breathy laugh, still with soft eyes. You hadn't even realized you spaced out while staring into his eyes. His words made you snap out of your thoughts, and an even brighter blush appeared on your cheeks.

"I'll take that as a yes." Raihan looked away for a moment, before moving his hand to have a gentle hold on your chin, bringing you closer as well. A small hint of blush was visible on his cheeks once he looked back into your eyes. "Ah- seriously though. You're okay now, you're with me. I won't let anything even get close to you."

You suppressed a shy smile and turned your face away from him, before hearing another small laugh.

Raihan lifted his other hand and pressed a finger against your cheek to turn your face back to him. The gesture made you even shyer.

"I mean it. As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you.." Raihan's smile left his face, his lips were slightly parted. You felt him lean in closer, and you froze. "Got it?"

He continued to lean in, his eyes now hooded. You nodded slowly, unsure of what to do. You knew Raihan was a rival, a friend, you definitely thought of him in..other ways.. before. Without meaning to, your eyes closed and you leaned in as well. Your heart was pounding so much you felt as if it would escape your chest.

Then you felt a bouncy ball hit your head.

"Ow!" You reacted and pulled away from Raihan quickly, feeling flustered. You looked around for who had thrown it, Raihan as well. Your cheeks were the same shade, and you couldn't even look at each other.

"Alcremie!" You exclaimed once you saw your Pokemon with Raihan's Flygon, giggling above a bush nearby. "Don't do that!"

Raihan looked quickly to your Pokemon, and exhaled loudly. "Flygon. D-Don't do that!" His blush was still calming down, and he raised his hood to attempt and hide it. Whenever Raihan was flustered in anyway, his hood was up in mere seconds.

You stood up while wiping the frosting from your cheek and glared playfully at your Alcremie, knowing well she saw what had almost happened.

"Shut up." You mouthed at her and crossed your arms while holding back a grin as Raihan also stood, holding the ball.

He turned to the Pokemon near the bush and lifted the arm holding the ball, before making it soar through the air effortlessly. This caught the Pokemon's attention immediately, and they quickly went to go fetch it.

You and Raihan stood in silence, watching your Pokemon go after it. After a few moments, Raihan awkwardly cleared his throat and turned to you. He pulled his hood down and you looked up at him.

With another quick movement, Raihan grabbed your cheek opposite to him and slightly hunched in order to lower his own face. You got onto your toes to try and meet him in the middle, height wise, then felt something new.

A pair of lips pressed against your cheek, quickly pecking it.

Your face heated up immediately, and the grip on your cheek left quickly. Raihan's hood went back up as soon as he pulled away, and he shoved his hands in his pocket.

You stood, flustered.

"You owe me one." Raihan spoke from inside his hood, the grin on his face audible.

"Shut up. Let's go get Alcremie and Flygon, please?" You said and began to walk in front of him in order to conceal your blushing face, and the grin on it.

You heard him begin to follow, and he replied soon too.

"Right behind you. Always will be."

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, my requests are always open, just might be a wait! 💕 - 🥝

#pokemon #pokemon shield #gym leaders #pokemon gym leader #pokemon swsh #pokemon fanfiction #piers pokemon #pokemon raihan #piers x reader #raihan x reader

[honey-dewey]

Family Reunion

Pairing: Javier Peña /Reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, probably inaccurate Spanish, but otherwise none! This is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Returning home is hard, but with you by Javier’s side, he can face anything. Including a Peña family reunion.

“I’m really not sure about this.”

You laughed, putting a hand on top of his and watching the Texas countryside pass you by. “Javi, it’s two days. What could possibly go wrong?”

Javier sighed. “Ay dios míos, you’re gonna regret saying that.”

The Peña family ranch was all set up for the reunion, and for the first time in a long time, Javier was actually able to go. He pulled up the driveway, face already scrunching as three women rushed out and stood eagerly on the edge of the driveway. “Here we go.”

Immediately, as soon as Javier’s feet hit the pavement, the three women were upon him, hugging and squealing that they’d missed him. You grinned, stepping out of the car and simply watching as Javier tried to brush off his sister’s affection.

Finally, once they were all done greeting Javier, he pulled you close to his side. “These are my older sisters, Maria, Cynthia, and Patricia.”

You smiled. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Cynthia bounded back into the house, apparently eager to tell everyone Javier was home. Maria, who you were pretty sure was the oldest, helped you and Javier grab your bags and take them inside. While Javier got lost in the sea of family members who hadn’t seen him in a decade, you found near silence in Javier’s old bedroom, which was where you two would be sleeping.

“Y’know, Mamá couldn’t believe it when he called home to say he got married,” Maria said, setting Javier’s bag on his bed. “Our little Javi, all grown up and married.”

You put your bag down next to Javier’s. “Is he the youngest?”

“Nah,” Maria said, pointing to a framed photo on Javier’s nightstand. “Melissa and Lori are both younger than him.”

Examining the photo, you suppressed a grin. “He’s the only boy?”

Maria’s Cheshire grin grew. “Yeah.”

An unfamiliar woman poked her head into the room. “Is this Javi’s spouse?”

You nodded.

“Ah!” The woman pulled you into a tight hug. “Hi! I’m Melissa!”

“Lissa!” Javier said, and Melissa put you down with a pout. “Bájalos, ahora.”

Another call of Melissa’s name, and she was racing out of the room with a cheerful laugh, Maria hot on her heels.  

Javier fell onto the bed, and you pulled the door shut, falling next to him. “Home sweet home,” he groaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

You rolled over and ended up laying on Javier’s chest, resting your ear on his collarbones. “I like it,” you said softly.

After a few minutes of simply enjoying each other’s company, a loud shout echoed through the house, disrupting your peace. “Lori’s home!”

The house began to bustle, but you stayed on top of Javier, keeping him trapped. He didn’t seem to mind, and actually wound an arm around your back to keep you secure. Voices filtered around you, but they were fuzzy, like they were underwater or behind a closed door.

Finally, someone opened the door to Javier’s bedroom. “Hijo?”

“Si mamá?”

Javier’s mother looked at you on top of him and smiled. “Lori is home. Do you want to say hello?”

Javier sighed, and you laughed as you were lifted up as he breathed in. “Yeah, I’ll come say hi.”

He stood, and you stood with him. “Come on. You’ll like Lori.”

Lori, if you remembered correctly, was the youngest and the most mature. She looked damn near identical to Javier, despite her feminine features and the fact that she was clearly younger.

“Ah, you must be Javi’s spouse!” She said, shaking your hand. “Damn, Javi really knows how to pick them!”

You laughed. “Thank you, but I think I picked him.”

Lori smiled. “Of course. C’mon! Can you bake?”

Turned out, Lori needed help with the pies, and you and her spent almost half an hour making various pie crusts and fillings. Javier tried to help for a few minutes, but he got dragged off to help somewhere else. You waved as he went, following one of the younger cousins.

“So, how was Columbia?” Lori asked, mixing another apple pie mix in a glass bowl.

You took a breath, continuing to knead lest your emotions get the better of you. “Hard,” you finally admitted. “Very hard. I wasn’t even in the thick of the fighting most times, but it was harder than anything I’ve ever done. We had to move four times, and we caught bombs in Javi’s car on two separate occasions. It was a good day if no one shot at him, and then there was all that shit with Los Pepes.”

“Oh I heard about that,” Lori said sadly, grabbing another pie pan. “That must’ve been hell for him, not being there when they finally put a bullet in Escobar.”

“Steve called us immediately,” you said. “The body was still warm, I don’t think the news knew yet. But we did. Javier cried.”

Lori shrugged. “What’s he gonna do now?”

You looked around, making sure the kitchen was empty. “Going back.”

“What?”

You nodded. “They’re sending us back, something about the Cali cartel? I dunno, but apparently it’s big and it’s a problem. They want Javi because, well, he’s had connections with those people.”

“Oh,” Lori breathed, passing the pie to you so you could lattice it. “That’s awful.”

“That’s government work,” you said with a sigh.

Before Lori could speak again, Javier came back with two men, one of whom put an arm around Lori’s waist.

“David, this is Javier’s spouse,” Lori said, smiling as the man kissed her cheek. “The one who was working with the DEA.”

David nodded to you. “Pleasure. I’d shake your hand, but,”

You grinned, holding up your pie crust covered hands. “I’ll spare you the feeling.”

“And this is my cousin Chris,” Javier said, leaning on the counter and watching you expertly lattice the pie in front of you. “How many of those are you making?”

“Three apple, two cherry, one pecan for Cynthia, one blueberry, and a peach pie for Javi.”

Javier lit up. “I thought you weren’t making a peach pie!”

Lori laughed. “Beth brought Georgia peaches, so I had to.”

Chris opened the oven, examining the pies. “Damn, these look divine.”

“Off,” Lori said, giving Chris’s hands a light smack with a wooden spoon. “These are for dessert!”

Once you were finally done and the pies only had to be baked, you were able to wash your hands and sit on the couch. Javier sat next to you, along with a few aunts and uncles you didn’t know. Javier’s father sat in a recliner, his mother sat on a loveseat, and beside her sat a wonderful old woman who you quickly learned was Javier’s grandmother. You closed your eyes, leaning against Javier’s shoulder and dozing a bit. You didn’t fall asleep, but damn you wanted to. Conversation filtered around you, but you didn’t pay much attention.

People came and went, and eventually, everyone was moving outside. Javier nudged you to awareness and you blinked blearily in the Texas sunlight as you followed him outside.

“Veteran DEA agent, bothered by a bit of sunshine,” Javier teased, handing you his aviators. “Ain’t you a sight.”

You huffed at him. “Don’t make me regret saying yes to marrying you,” you said, waving to Patricia and Melissa.

Lunch was a happy affair. You sat beside your husband, chatting eagerly with some of his cousins. His sisters sat with you, happily telling you stories about Javier that made him turn red and you bend over with laughter. Finally, once they’d had their fun embarrassing him, Cynthia, Maria, and Lori all left to go oversee some game the young cousins were playing. Melissa leaned over the table and grinned, Patricia already rolling her eyes.

“Javi,” she said sweetly, fluttering her eyes. “Have you taken Bella out yet?”

“Bella?” You asked, seeing Javier copy Patricia’s eye roll. “Who’s Bella?”

Melissa pointed to the stables that the ranch had. “Javi’s horse. She’s getting old, but she still runs.”

“She’s thirteen,” Javier said. “Not old.”

Patricia smiled. “Javi managed to get her off a man trying to sell her for meat,” she explained to you. “Right up until the day he left for Columbia, she was his pride and joy. Brought her back basically from the dead.”

You tried to imagine Javier caring deeply about a horse, deeply enough to save her. Unsurprisingly, the thought came easy. “Bella, it’s a beautiful name.”

“Short for Belladonna,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

The ground was warm beneath your feet, still bare because you hadn’t had time to put shoes on before lunch. The Peña stables didn’t have many horses, maybe three or four. Right at the end was a stall painted with gorgeously intricate vines and flowers, the belladonna plant. Javier leaned over the door, whistling.

The effect was almost immediate. He was shoved from the door, a black horse pushing him out and butting against his body, searching him.

“Bella!” He said happily, scratching behind Bella’s swiveling ears. “Hello! Did you miss me?”

Bella snorted.

“I know, I missed you too,” Javier said, lost in his own little world. “Hey, guess what! I got married. Mhm, I think they’re perfect too.”

You smiled, leaning against the wall and watching Javier talk to Bella. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Javier said. “C’mon, I’ll take you on a ride.”

He introduced you to another horse, Bella’s neighbor Aristotle. Aristotle was well behaved, and within no time, you were sitting in the saddle and following Javier down a trail. Aristotle was an easy ride, and it helped that you had some prior riding knowledge. Javier, however, was leagues above you, riding as if he’d been doing it his whole life. Which you supposed he had.

“The ranch is huge,” Javier said, leading you through a section of forest. “But even if it wasn’t, we’re all good friends with the neighbors, and they don’t mind when we ride on their land.”

You left the forest and entered a large field that stretched on for miles, a wooden fence bisecting the field. “Is that where the neighbor’s property starts?” You asked, pulling Aristotle to a stop on the edge of the woods.

“That’s still ours,” Javier said. “Technically the neighbor’s land starts at the end of the field on the other side of the fence, but the fence was there when we bought the land and no one wants to take it down.”

You nodded. “How far is it back to the ranch?”

Javier looked at you, confused. “Twenty minutes at a steady trot, maybe thirty at a walk, why?”

Pushing Javier’s aviators up your nose and wiggling in the saddle, you grinned. “Over the fence, race you back!”

Just like that, you were off. Aristotle seemed just as joyful as you as you leapt the fence with ease, using what little riding knowledge you had. Javier caught on to your game and followed suit, laughing as Bella and Aristotle raced side by side.

The trail was likely too dangerous to keep this pace at, but if you weren’t mistaken, you could wind around the forest, staying at your pace. Abandoning Javier at the path, you cut a sharp turn, feeling the wind on your skin as you laughed.

True to your thoughts, within ten minutes, you were coming up on the ranch with no Javier in sight. Jumping the fence yet again into the riding ring, you pulled Aristotle to a stop, jumping down and stroking his nose.

Maria and Cynthia ran up to you as you straightened your shirt. “What happened?”

The sound of hooves alerted you to the return of your husband. “Javier and I went for a ride. I challenged him to a race home. He lost.”

Javier stopped Bella beside you, looking you up and down as he slid out of his saddle. “That was some damn impressive riding,” he said. “Congrats.”

You grinned. “C’mon, let’s put these two away and relax.”

Of course, in the Peña house, there was no such thing as relaxing. You and Javier were halfway to the porch when Javier was hit in the back with a water balloon. He turned, back dripping. Melissa and Patricia both pointed at each other, barely containing their laughter.

“Oh hell no!” Javier said, taking off his shoes and smiling. “Get back here!”

He chased after his sisters, both of which ran away, shrieking with laughter. You sat on the porch swing, watching Javier grab a water balloon and throw it. His aim was off, so instead of hitting Patricia, he hit Maria, who immediately joined the fight as well. Within minutes, all six Peña kids were throwing water balloons at each other and laughing. It was such an innocent sight, and it made you sigh. How long would you be in Columbia fighting the Cali Cartel? When would Javier get a chance to laugh like this again?

A shriek pulled you from your thoughts as Maria took control of a garden hose and began to aim it mostly at Javier, catching Lori and Cynthia in the process of soaking her brother. Javier ducked away from the hose spray, and Melissa snuck around Maria’s back and stood on the hose. It was a simple trick, but one Maria fell for, looking into the hose and immediately getting a face full of water.

“Niños!” Javier’s mother yelled, coming out of the house. “Que estás haciendo?”

“Jugando, Mamá!” Javier called, sitting up in the grass from where he’d been play wrestling with Cynthia, entirely soaked and decently muddy. “Melissa lo inició.”

“Did not!”

“Did to!”

“Niños!” Javier’s mother said again, trying to cut the childish bickering off. “Lavarse!”

“Si Mamá!” The chorus of six voices called back. Javier was up first, shaking like a wet dog and trotting over to the house, followed by his sisters.

Ten minutes later, a significantly cleaner Javier was sitting next to you, his hair still wet and in completely different clothes. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said softly, watching the large extended family gather for dinner.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

Javier took your hands. “You only ever use that tone when something is really wrong. What is it?”

You shrugged. “Just wondering when we’ll be back here. Will it be years, like last time?”

“Not if I can help it,” Javier said softly. “Hey, look at me cariño. This won’t be like last time, okay? I swear it. We’ll be home soon.”

Nodding, you kissed Javier, running a finger over his ring. “I love you.”

Javier smiled, kissing your forehead. “I love you more.”

You leaned against him, taking in the setting sun and the bustling happiness of the yard. Someone started playing music, and you perked up. “Oh! I love this song!”

Javier tipped his head, trying to figure out what was playing. “I don’t know this.”

“It’s from the mid sixties,” you said, standing and tugging Javier to his feet. “Never charted, but my mother loved it.” You started to sway with the happy music, and Javier copied your movements. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, you don't have to be a star,” you sang, making Javier smile. “Hey, hey, hey, lover, I love you just the way you are.”

Javier moved his hands to your waist, and you put your forearms on his shoulders, still swaying and singing. “For love is just the same, without fortune and fame. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

The song kept playing, and you kept singing, dancing with Javier on the porch. About halfway through the song, someone interrupted you. “Hey, dorks!”

You jumped, almost knocking into Javier and hurting him. “Jesus! A warning next time!”

Maria grinned. “Mamá says it’s time to eat, and if you don’t come down, she’ll feed your portion to the dogs.”

Javier smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like Mamá. C’mon, let’s eat.”

You took Javier’s hand, following him off the porch, still singing lightly as the grass crunched under your feet and the warm Texas breeze rippled your clothes.

“Hey, lover, treat me good and nice, and it will be alright. Just give me true love and understanding. True love and understanding.”

#Narcos #Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

[dershloop]

Title: Burning Pile

Words: 2410

Ship: Lava

Warnings: depressive episode, mentions of worthlessness. i wrote this based off od how my own depressive episodes tend to happen/come about so this might not be accurate to everyone so dont start yelling at me if its not "how depression is for you" anyone who says that will be blocked. its more of a comfort fic to get me through the last week of school.

Cole yawned, throwing his bag on the floor and rolling his shoulders, feeling them pop satisfyingly. Finally, he was home. Rubbing his eyes; cracking his neck and feeling his limbs come alive once more. He hated long car rides, they cramped his limps and make him travel sick. That’s the problem being tall and large; the back of cars wasn’t made to accommodate you. Jay kept telling him to learn to drive himself, but he didn’t have the time. Being a ninja was surprisingly hard work, with little time in between to learn to drive. He’d just have to make do.

“Oh Cole, hey dude, forgot you were coming back today,” Jay said, walking into the room, leaning against the counter, a strange look contorting his face, “How’s your dad?”

“Not too bad. Still pretty insistent on me being a good singer. Apparently, I just have to ‘dig deep. Something tells me he’s never going to back off with it,” Cole said with a laugh, Jay laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, “Are you ok man? You seem… I dunno. Off,” Jay’s face fell, his mouth scrunching nervously.

“You’re gonna be so pissed I didn’t tell you but… Kai’s not ok, he-”

“Wait what? What happened, where is he?’ Cole said frantically, his face falling in panic.

“I don’t- I don’t know dude! He’s barely been leaving his room, I don’t think he’s showered all week and I’ve barely seen him eat anything. We’ve tried to give him stuff and made him drink some water but-” Jay didn’t get a chance to finish, Cole pushed past him, dashing to his boyfriend’s room. From what he could gather, this had started a week ago. When he’d left. He hadn’t had a depressive episode in months now; had him leaving been the catalyst for all this? He was sure he’d been careful, he’d texted him every day. Even if they hadn’t called, he hadn’t asked. Besides, his dad didn’t know about them yet, he didn’t want to accidentally come out because of a phone call. Either way, if Kai had been in a bad way he hadn’t seemed like it. Apart from not asking to call, he’d seemed relatively normal. No slow replies. No giving texts. Nothing.

Cole softly knocked on Kai’s bedroom door, though it seemed pointless. No matter the response, he was going in there.

“What?” A hoarse voice called from inside the room. Kai’s hoarse voice. Cole opened the door, staring in awe at the state of the room. It was… messy to say the least. Clothes were scattered across the floor, making it so you couldn't even see the carpet. Mugs and glasses and bowls and plates littered around, just extra obstacles to the already high-staked trek to Kai’s bed.

“I’ve told you guys, leave me alone!” Kai yelled pushing himself up from his flat position on the bed, twisting his head around and staring at Cole, slightly gone out. His face fell when he realised who it was, staring at him solemnly from his position in the doorway.

“You’re back,” He murmured, twisting himself around fully so he was looking at Cole. Properly this time.

“Yeah,” Cole said softly, stepping carefully around the rubble and decay scattered all over the floor, sitting down on Kai’s bed when he finally got to it, “What… What happened?”

Kai shrugged, not looking at Cole. His hair was slicked back, matted to his skull with grease. Pimples beginning to form on his face, the lack of skincare irritating his delicate skin. Cole would be lying if he said he didn’t look gross and smell just as bad, but that didn’t put him off. Obviously, something was wrong, what kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t do anything.

“I just… started feeling empty. I don’t care about anything and I have no motivation to do anything but… I didn’t want to be a burden, and I knew that if you suspected anything you’d come back so I just played it cool. Half expected one of them to tell you but… I guess they didn’t want you cutting your trip short for me either,” He muttered sadly, still not making eye contact. He couldn't. Not in this state. He was disgusting. His breath stunk like he’d just eaten something that’d been dead for a while and he probably stunk like something that’d been dead for a while too. Despite barely leaving his bed, his face was gaunt, his cheekbones beginning to further protrude, this time to an unhealthy degree and his eye sagging, purple eyebags hanging down as if weighing down his entire soul.

“Oh firefly,” Cole mumbled, opening his arms and wrapping them around Kai’s shoulders and pulling him close, feeling as Kai slowly relaxed into his body, not moving his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Kai said softly into Cole’s chest.

“For what?”

“Not telling you. Lying to you.”

“I don’t care. You have nothing to be sorry for, you weren’t in the right headspace and still aren’t. But I’m home now, so I’ll help you get out of this. Have you been taking your meds?” Cole said, still speaking in hushed tones. He wasn’t 100% sure why, but it seemed to be comforting to him, so he continued doing it.

Kai shook his head slowly, knowing he was about to get lectured.

“Ok, that’d explain a lot. Let’s start with that then,” Cole said simply, standing up and looking down at Kai.

“What?” He said, confused as Cole looked down at him expectantly.

“Come on. I’m taking you to take your medication,” Cole stated, holding out his hand, “If I bring ‘em to you, you’ll not feel any better.” Kai sighed and took his hand, letting his boyfriend’s strong form pull him out of bed. He slumped over slightly, his legs barely able to keep him standing. Letting his arm hang limply, his hand barely holding Coles, they walked out of his room and to the kitchen. He wasn’t 100% sure he was even in the room with him, his mind fuzzing in and out of focus from his surroundings. One moment, he was in the kitchen with his boyfriend. Next, he was in his head, letting his thoughts run wild. The latter was less than ideal; especially without the prescribed dosage of antidepressants in his system; but he didn’t have the energy to care.

“Ok,” Cole said, putting 2 small pills down in front of Kai along with a cup of water, “Take them.” Kai nodded, letting go of Cole’s hand and picked up the tablets, sloppily placing them in his mouth and swallowing them with the cool water. It felt heavenly, rolling down his dry throat and even drier tongue, giving them a new lease of life.

“Better?” Cole said softly, taking Kai’s hand back in his own. Kai shrugged, leaning against Cole and closing his eyes.

“Don’t bother going back to sleep on my arm, there’s more,” Cole continued, firmly but lovingly. Kai knew it was for his own good but… he just wanted to get back in bed. There was an immovable weight on his chest, dragging him down and increasing the effort to keep himself upright. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could actually stay stood up.

“Ok, have you had something to eat today?” Cole asked, taking Kai’s other hand and looking at him softly. Kai nodded, looking back, but not quite meeting Cole’s eyes. His heart twisted with every beat in his chest; his stomach turning in knots. He knew he couldn’t give in and let him go back to bed- he’d never feel better while he’s in this state- but the look in his eyes. It was so… void. So tired. So… emotionless. Yet full of emotion. Twisting and turning. Hurt, anger, sadness and an utter lack of anything positive.

“Ok. In that case, only 2 more things. We’re gonna brush your teeth and shower,” Cole said, Kai’s face falling in desperation. Evidently, he didn’t want to do either of those things; but Cole knew full well that he wouldn’t do it of his own volition.

“Please, firefly. We can watch a movie or something after that. I just… want you to feel better. I’m doing this for your own good. Plus, I’ll help you. I won’t get in the shower with you, but if you need help with anything I’ll stay in the bathroom while you’re in there. Just… how about this. Just wash your hair. Then I can put some deodorant on you and wipe your face. Are you ok with that?” Kai nodded in response, eliciting a small smile from Cole.

“Good. I’m so insanely proud of you Kai, for working with me here. I know how hard it can be when you get like this so I know how much it’s taking for you to do this right now. So, I’m insanely proud of you for actually going along with me,” Cole said sincerely, raising his free hand and resting it on Kai’s cheek. Kai leant into his hand and smiled a small, but tired, smile, raising his own hand and resting it on top of Cole’s.

Walking towards the bathroom, Kai took a reluctant breath and stepped inside, Cole following soon after. Cole turned the water on, pulling the mildly disgusting shirt off of Kai and tossing it into the laundry basket, letting him take off his boxers. Slowly stepping into the shower, Kai winced as the hot water hit his skin, cascading down his body and washing any surface-level grime away. His arms were lead; his eyelids hanging heavily over his eyes. He couldn’t do this.

“Cole,” He said weakly, not moving from under the warm water, “I want to get out.”

“Come on Kai, don’t give up now,” Cole replied softly, moving towards the shower and opening the curtain, seeing the exhausted look in his eyes, “I’ll wash your hair. How about that?” Kai nodded slowly. Cole smiled, pulling his own shirt over his head and discarding it to the side, reaching around his boyfriend and grabbing the shampoo, making sure Kai’s hair was wet enough before applying any. He slowly massaged it into his skull, looking down from his hair to Kai every so often to give him a comforting smile. Kai sighed contently, feeling the first bout of comfort; and even the first sliver of joy; in days. The feeling of Cole’s fingers on his head… knowing he was here and he was ok and alive. He was alive. Cole was here. The steady scratching and rubs keeping him grounded.

Quickly washing the shampoo out of Kai’s hair and turning off the water, Cole smiled, taking Kai’s hand again and leading him out and towards the sink. Cole grabbed his robe from the back of the door, bundling Kai up in it to assure he stayed warm. Cole laughed a little, looking down at Kai’s short, thin figure wrapped in his large robe, like a baby in a teenagers coat.

“What?”

“You just look really cute. You know like when a little kid just gets out of the shower. Their hair’s all slicked back and their bathrobe is about 10 sizes too big?” Kai blushed and crinkled his brow indignantly.

“I do not look like a child, not all of us were blessed to be 6 foot you know,” He huffed, pulling the robe around himself tighter.

“Yes, you do! You’re my cute little baby boy!” Cole said enthusiastically, noticing the smallest of sparkes light up in Kai’s eyes again as he glared indignantly at his boyfriend. With a laugh, Cole grabbed Kai’s toothbrush, putting some toothpaste on it and splattering it with water.

“Open up baby boy!” Cole said with a grin. Kai rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, allowing him to quickly brush his teeth. Grabbing a face wipe from the cupboard, he gently scrubbed the grease off of his boyfriend’s face. Then, finally, he grabbed a can of deodorant and sprayed him all over, banishing any thought of odour away from their minds (and bodies). Cole grabbed his shirt from the spot on the floor where it had landed earlier and pulled it back over his head.

“Hair drying time now,” Cole said, grabbing a clean towel from the cupboard and laying it over Kai’s wet hair, gently beginning to rub it, dragging the worst of the moisture out. Kai sighed in contentment, feeling himself shake and move as Cole dried his hair, the rough towel feeling heavenly as it dragged along his scalp, massaging any worries or unnecessary emotions away. Now all he felt was a deep feeling of peace and quiet.

“Damn, I’ll rub your head more often, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy,” Cole said with a laugh, continuing to softly rub his head with the towel, unable to contain his laughter at the small noises of contentment coming from Kai. Eventually, he took the towel back off his head and smiled down at his boyfriend, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Now we just need to get you some clothes, then it’s dumb movie time,” Kai smiled, his lips softly curving into a smile; a real one.

“Can I wear your clothes?” he said softly, his voice still hoarse from barely speaking this last week.

“Of course firefly, it’d be rude of me not to!” Cole said lightly, taking his hand and leading him to his room, immediately grabbing his largest hoodie and sweatpants. He helped Kai put them on and stared down at him in awe.

“You. Are. So. Damn. Small!” Cole said happily, looking at his boyfriend’s small frame being taken over by his large clothing.

“No, you’re just too big,” Kai said indignantly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of the hoodie.

“You know I mean it lovingly, you just look too cute in my clothes,” Cole gleamed, his face lighting up in pure delight. Kai said nothing, just let out a small giggle, his face glowing crimson.

“Now come! My sweet little baby boy! We shall watch dumb movies made for people 10 years younger than us until you feel better!” Cole exclaimed, sweeping Kai off his feet and holding him bridal style, carrying him towards his own room where he dumped him on the bed, turning on the TV and preparing for at least a day of watching weird movies and enjoying each others company.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago kai smith #ninjago cole #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago lava #lavashipping #ninjago kai/cole #kai/cole #ninjago fic #dersh’s fics

[multifandomrandomgirl]

Remus Lupin!parent x reader!daughter fic

Y/N Cohen had always wondered why she had her mother's maiden surname as opposed to her father's, but her mum refused to tell her. She also refused to tell Y/N the whereabouts of her absent father either for that matter.

All she knew was that her father had disappeared before she had even been born, a "one-night stand", as her mother had put it one night when Y/N had asked just before her tenth birthday. Y/N had since dropped the subject and gave up asking questions about her father.

According to her mother, Y/N had the same green eyes and light brown hair that her father has. The attributes that she got from her mum included her nose and her horrible eyesight.

On her eleventh birthday, Y/N received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it informed her that she was a witch and that she had a place at the school for the coming September. Her mother was more than happy to let her go to the school ("I don't have to wake up early to take you to school, it'll be great.").

Her first two years were interesting, to say the least, she'd been sorted into Gryffindor in her first year and made a plethora of friends including Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Ernie Macmillian.

In the first year, her Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher turned out to be some creepy pyscho with He-who-must-not-be-named's face on the back of his head, covered in a purple turban. In the second year, Harry came face-to-face with a basilisk after Ron Weasley's younger sister, Ginny got possessed by some guy's soul, Tom Riddle, weird name right?

Oh, and the DADA teacher had accidentally obliviated himself, what a tosser eh?

Y/N was currently sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, she had situated herself next to Neville and Seamus, across from Ginny and Dean.

"Who do you think we'll have for Defence this year?" Neville asked as he watched out the window as the train rolled out of Kings Cross. "Dunno, better help us defend ourselves if that raging lunatic, Black, comes anywhere near us." Seamus laughed. "Not a laughing matter Finnigan." Ginny rolled her eyes at the boy.

A few hours along the journey to the school, the train halted and bumped. It suddenly went all cold and dark, depressing almost.

"Anyone want to come and investigate with me?" Y/N stood up, pocketing her wand just in case. "I'll come with." Both Neville and Ginny stood up and followed Y/N down the corridor. They end up in Harry's compartment. Tripping over a few feet, Y/N made her way into the compartment. Harry, Ron, Hermione and a middle-aged man who was asleep were all in there. Y/N sat down next to Harry.

"Any clue as to what is happening?" She whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping man up. "No clue." Hermione mumbled.

A large floating binbag-like creature came into the compartment, it suddenly felt colder, Harry collapsed and Y/N grabbed him before he could hit the floor, she leant him across the seats that the pair had previously occupied.

The sleeping man arose, a ball of fire in his hand, he used wandless magic to ward off the floating binbag.

They all stood in silence as Harry began to wake up. "What were those things?" He asked, looking at the middle-aged man.

"Dementors" Now the lights had flickered back on,  Y/N could see the mans' appearance, green eyes, brown hair. "No." She thought. "Is he my? Nah, don't be daft."

"Y/N, Y/N. What's up?" Ron poked Y/N in the shoulder after the man leaves the compartment.

"Is it me or does he look like me?" She whispered, glancing at her friends.

"Do you think he may be your-?" Hermione cut herself short uncertain as to whether or not she should continue her sentence.

"Maybe. I mean, mum did say I looked exactly like him, except for the nose." Y/N stared at the floor, nervously. "Maybe you should ask him?"

"What am I supposed to say? Hi Professor, I think you might be my dad?" Y/N groaned, looking at Neville. "I mean, maybe more subtlety than that." Hermione sighed. "Yeah, good idea."

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

"Today, we will be looking at boggarts." Professor Lupin said. Y/N gulped nervously and fiddled with her red tie.

"Miss Cohen, would you be so kind as to go first?" The brown-haired professor asked her after teaching them the spell needed to protect them. "Uh, sure." Y/N stepped forward, the Professor unleashes the creature from the cupboard.

The boggart turned into a merperson, it wriggled its way towards her, reaching out for her arm. Y/N cowered back slightly, the class minus her friends sniggered at the merperson in front of them.

Y/N pulled her wand out, and aimed it at the boggart. "Riddikulus!" Y/N shouted, the merperson shrivelled up and turned into a muggle superhero figurine, random.

Harry's boggart cut the class off, Professor Lupin held him back to talk to him. Y/N hung around outside the classroom after as she wanted to speak to the Professor. It was the end of the day so it didn't matter if she had to wait for hours, she just wanted to ask him some stuff.

"Miss Cohen?" A voice had broken Lola's trail of thought. "Yes, Professor?"

"Are you okay?" He looked down at her. "Please may I talk to you about something?" Y/N took a deep breath, it was now or never. "Of course, come back into the room." He let her back into the class.

"Is this about your boggart? Merpeople, was interesting." Lupin sat at his desk. Lola shook her head. "That was uh, fun. I fell into the lake in my first year and a merperson grabbed me. But that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it then?"

"Did you, around thirteen- fourteen years ago, know a woman called Trina Cohen?" Y/N noticed the mans' face go pale. "Uh, yeah, I did. Why?" He squeaked out. "Just wondering, that's my mum. Is all." Y/N said, she regretted bringing the subject up, to begin with.

"Ah, um. Okay. Why were you asking? Bit random." He nervously laughed. "Mum said that I got my dad's eyes and hair, and you fit that description. I may have also stolen a photo from my mum's collection without telling her. This is it, actually." Y/N pulled a photo from a pocket inside of her school robes and handed it to Lupin.

"That's, that's me." Professor Lupin's face pulled a funny expression, a mix of upset and a few other emotions that Y/N was unable to pick out. "Here." He handed her the photo back. "You need to leave, now." He escorted her out of the room and locked the door.

"Hey, Y/N! What's up?" Ron looked at the girl, studying her face as she scrunched it up in an attempt not to cry.  "I told Lupin that I think he may be my father." Y/N sniffled. "And?"

"He just told me to leave, that's about it." She whispered. "I'm sorry." Ron pulled the girl into his arms, and hugged her tightly. "Shall we head back to the common room?" He asked, Y/N nodded.

"What did he say to you?" Ron asked as the pair sit down. "Why are you asking, bit random. Then he said that's me when I showed him the photo and then told me to leave." Y/N wiped her robe sleeve over her eyes, wiping away a few stray tears.

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

"Y/N, please may I speak to you at the end of the lesson?" Professor Lupin stopped at Y/N's desk on his way into the classroom. "Of course Professor." Y/N mumbled.

The lesson flew by, they were learning about Redcaps and Hinkypunks that lesson. At the end of the lesson, everyone packed up, Ron and Hermione turned to Y/N and told her that they'd keep a seat for her at the lunch table.

"Miss Cohen, I need to talk to you about the subject you brought up the other day." Professor Lupin resumed his seat. Y/N's face went pale. "I apologies for that Professor, it was random to bring up."

"I owled your mother and had a little chat with her. You're right, I am your father." The greying man looked up at her. "You, you are?" Y/N's eyes widened, he nodded.

"I am. I apologise for not being around ever. Your mum wanted you to grow up without magic, she's a muggle as you know. I also am a monster, I'm dangerous. I'm a-"

"Werewolf?" She asked. "Yeah, how did you know?" Lupin ran his hand through his hair. "Snape taught us about werewolves that one lesson you were off last month, mentioned something about them being "too close for comfort"." The brown-haired girl imitated the evil Professor. "I also noticed how your scars looked and how ill you looked the days either side of the full moon."

"That's why I didn't want to be around, I was scared I'd hurt you. Scared I'd make you a monster."

"You aren't a monster, you're such a nice person. How can people see any different? Seriously, what is wrong with those people?" Y/N made a face. "Not everyone thinks like you, sadly. Anyway, I meant to ask, you're not a werewolf too, are you?" She shook her head, he sighed in relief.

"I know I'm an awful person for leaving, but I'd like to try and make it up to you, if that's alright with you?" Professor Lupin studied her face. "Don't speak like that, you aren't an awful person. I understand why you did it. Of course, it's alright with me. I've always wanted to meet you." Y/N gave the Professor a small smile.

"Can I, can I hug you?" The werewolf asked cautiously, he didn't know if he even had the right to hug her. He didn't get an answer, the teenage girl ran forward, she launched herself at him. "I'll take that as a yes then." Lupin laughed.

"I'm so glad I found you. Dad."

#HarryPotter #RemusLupin #sirius black #hermionegranger #ron weasley #hogwarts #x reader #dean thomas #seamus finnigan #neville longbottom #ginny weasley #professor lupin #lupin #remus lupin!parent #remus lupin x daugher reader #albusdumbledore #MinervaMcGonagall #snape

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot- To The Stars And Back

Intro: Steve and Katie receive a message which Tony left before his death.

Warnings: “Language!” 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was originally a full chapter, however I as I ended up publishing Stark Spangled Man I stripped out the flashback, and it left me with this little mini. It always sat in my head that Tony would leave personalised messages for Katie and Steve, along with the rest of his family, not just the generic one we saw at his funeral so here we are.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Happy?” Katie frowned momentarily as the man strode into her kitchen, followed by Steve. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today, not that you’re not welcome, of course you are.” She hastily added.

“It’s okay, Kiddo, I know what you meant.” He chuckled softly “The kids not here?” “Jamie’s gone to the park with Bucky and Sam, and Emmy’s taken Lucky for a walk.” She answered. “Why, do we need them?”

“No, I was just gonna say hi but I’ll see them tomorrow I suppose.” He smiled sadly at the thought of the funeral. “But, anyway, I came to deliver this. It turns out even, well, even when he’s gone your brother has me running errands.”

Katie smiled softly as he held up the box in front of her.

“He left three. One for you and Steve, one for Pepper and Morgan, and one for his Funeral….so…”

“His Funeral?” Steve frowned, as Katie opened a drawer and retrieved a knife before she walked over to the table. She had a feeling she knew what was in there, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she carefully slit the tape on the cardboard box and took a breath as she realised she was right.

Inside was an Iron Man helmet, one of his many spares from his suits over the years.

“He’s erm, ” she took a breath as she instantly recognised which suit this had come from. “He’ll have left a message or something, like he did all those years ago from Tennessee.”

Happy nodded. “He did. The boxes arrived at the house today. Along with instructions that if he had, you know, then they were to be distributed accordingly.”

“Thanks.” Katie set the helmet on the table and glancing into the box. There was another, smaller package inside, to which an envelope was attached. She smiled as she read her brother’s handwriting on the front. It simply said ‘Spangles’.

“We were just about to get lunch.” Steve tore his eyes away from Katie as he looked to Happy. “Do you want to join us?”

“Thanks but I should be getting back.” Happy declined the offer politely. “Stuff to do before tomorrow.”

Katie gave him a small smile, placing the smaller box on the table “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me neither.” Happy swallowed, dropping a hand to her shoulder “But we’ll get through it. We always do, huh?”

“I’ll see you out.” Steve said, as Happy gave Katie a hug before he nodded and the two men left the room.

Katie looked at the helmet which now sat on the table, and she took a deep breath before she picked it up and looked straight into the eye sockets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her forehead against the cool metal she held in her hands. She had no idea which suit this was from, but then again Tony had made so many of the damned things, it could be Mk500 for all she knew. The tears began to fall down her face as she screwed her eyes shut, head pressed against the helmet, before gently hands pried it from hers.

“Hey,” Steve spoke softly, dropping into the seat next to her, placing the helmet on the table. “Come here.”

She turned into him, pressing her face to his chest as she shook with silent sobs. His hand gently rubbed her back as he soothed her, waiting for her to calm down.

“Sorry,” She pulled back. “Stop apologising.” Steve shook his head, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Katie took a deep breath and glanced at the helmet, before she remembered something. “Oh, here.” She reached out for the smaller box, and nudged it towards him.  “This was in there for you.” Steve frowned and took the box, looking at the envelope. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes “That fucking nickname.”

“Open it.” Katie urged. “I wanna see what it is.”

Smiling at her ever impatient nature, Steve tore the envelope open. His eyes scanned the writing and his brow furrowed slightly, before his lips turned up in a soft smile and he handed the note to her.

Hey Old Man. My dad once told me that no amount of money can buy a second of time, yet he had a hell of a lot of expensive watches, so go figure. This particular one, however, I couldn’t auction for charity. I always intended to pass it to you, one way or another. And if you’re reading this note you’re getting it after my demise…so I best explain.

I did a bit of digging and it turns out that most of the guys involved in ‘Operation Rebirth’ and the Howling Comandos got one of these post the War. It’s a Wartime Rolex Oyster, probably worth a fair dime or two but the sentiment makes it priceless as you’ll see when you look at it. (Here’s a clue- check the back!) It only feels right that you have it. I had intended to pass it to you for your 40th,or your 107th, whatever you wanna call it, but again, as you’re reading this I won’t be there for that.  

I know Jamie’s surname is Rogers but there is half Stark in him so he’s not a complete lost cause, and maybe when he’s older you can pass this down to him. Or if you have any more kids that are boys, I dunno, maybe you can give them a strap each or something. Whatever.

I’m also assuming you’ll be reading this before watching the message I left as we both know Kiddo is an impatient brat so I’ll leave it there, I don’ t wanna spoil my heartfelt speech too much.

T 

Whilst Katie was reading, Steve opened the box and he gently took the watch in his hand. It was silver, with a black leather strap and a simple, classic face. He studied at it before he turned it over and he instantly felt a lump in his throat. Engraved on the back was the Howling Commando emblem- they had adopted the wings from his helmet which had adorned their uniforms in whichever place they chose- with the words ‘To The Captain’ arched over the top in copper slate writing.

He gently handed it to Katie and she glanced down at it, turning it over to read the inscription, her fingers running over the writing.

“Wow.” She whispered, wiping her eyes “I’ve never seen this before.”

“It’s erm, ” Steve cleared his throat, his voice thick, “it’s pretty…”

“Awesome.” Katie smiled up at him.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded as she handed it back to him, and he placed it back in the leather box, setting it to one side.  Seeing that had brought a wave of emotions crashing back over him. Nostalgia, slight sadness at the loss of not just Tony but his other friends, and pride.

Pride that even after he was gone they’d remembered him in such a touching and genuine way.

Shaking himself out of it, he looked at Katie and then nodded to the helmet. “Do you wanna do it now or…” She nodded and picked it up in a shaking hand, before she put it on.

“Retinal Scan authenticated” FRIDAY’s voice spoke “Greetings Mrs Rogers…accessing Stark Secure Server, hologram projection activated.”

Katie removed the helmet and placed it on the table, pointing it away from them as the footage beamed out from the eye sockets. She took a deep breath as the hologramatic form of her brother appeared and he smiled at them.

“Hey Kiddo.” He spoke, “Cap…”

Katie wanted to speak back, so badly, but she knew it was pointless, he wasn’t actually there. Steve gently reached for her hand and she linked her fingers into his.

“So, I thought I better record a message, you know just in case it all goes sideways tomorrow.” Tony sniffed, sitting down on a chair. “I’ve left one for Pepper and Morgan too and the gang, but I wanted to leave you your own. I hope that you’re watching this back and our plan worked, that everyone came back and we did it,” he took a deep breath, “but there’s a couple of things I wanna get out of the way before we get into the soppy shit. So, first off, I’m leaving half my shares of Stark Industries to you, the other half goes to Pepper who will more than likely keep it for Moo once she’s old enough. If you both come to the decision to sell then, that’s cool. It’s probably run its course anyway. If not then good luck taking it in whatever direction you choose, not that you need luck, you’ve proven yourself more than capable of running it pretty much singlehandedly over the last five years.”

Katie took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes with her spare hand, the one that was entwined with Steve’s tightened around his fingers.

“Second, most of the cash assets I have pass to Pepper, but I’ve left instructions that there’s some for you as well. I know you don’t need it but I want you to use it for the kids, however many you end up with. Tell them Uncle Nee wanted to leave them something. And thirdly, the house in Malibu. I knew we never got round to rebuilding it but I still own the land and I want you to have it, Kiddo. That was our home for years and I watched you grow up there into the strong, beautiful woman you became so it only feels right. Plus it’s where we buried that fucking turkey too so it’s probably haunted by the evil bastard anyway. There’s a fund set up as well which should let you rebuild it however you want.

I know you probably won’t want to move from Brooklyn, I mean Cap’s lived there pretty much all his life, well, maybe, if you don’t count the sixty-five years doing time as a Capsicle or the time in DC and then wherever the hell you were when, well, you know,” Tony waved his hand, “whatever, the point is you can rebuild it how you want and use it how you want, nice little holiday home maybe.” Katie took a shuddering breath as now her tears were falling thick and fast. She’d forgotten all about that house, their home that had been destroyed. The fact that Tony had never sold the land so she could have it back in some form was astounding and overwhelming at the same time.

“So now that’s dealt with, onto the good stuff. First off, Spangles.” Tony spoke and Steve shifted slightly “I know we’ve had our differences, but I just wanted you to know when it comes to Katie I trust you implicitly, I think I always have done in a way. I never really had any doubts in my mind since that day I spoke to you in DC. To be honest you’re such a straight guy I trust you with pretty much anything, well, maybe not quite, I’m still not sure about our driving but that’s a different story.” Tony winked and Steve spluttered a chuckle. The fact that Captain America was a bit of a speed demon behind the wheel and been a long running joke amongst the Avengers since the beginning. “You’re a good man with a good heart, everyone knows this, I mean that’s the reason you were chosen for the serum anyway isn’t it? Because it makes the good better. I know I’m leaving my girl in good hands, but just so you know,” he raised his fingers to his eyes in the familiar ‘I’m watching you’ sign and Steve smiled, “and that won’t stop now, because if you ever do let her down I’ll make it my mission to haunt you for the rest of your life.” Tony smiled “But I know you won’t. And because I know you probably still don’t believe me I wanted to tell you once and for all that I don’t blame you for any of the shit that went down. I Love you buddy, Take it easy.”  Steve took a deep breath and wiped his tears with his spare hand as Katie gently squeezed his other again as hologram Tony shifted in his seat and his attention turned to Katie.

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I don’t even know where to start. I know I’ve said it and said it again, but my biggest achievement in life will always be how well and good and honest and…amazing you turned out, even with me as a role model. If Moo turns out to be anything like you when she’s older then…” he trailed off and shrugged, “well, I only wish I was gonna be there to see it, oh, and that reminds me, Spangles I’m counting on you to be there to vet all potential boyfriends for suitability.” Both Katie and Steve let out a watery chuckle at that.

“But yeah, where was I…oh, right…I watched how you took Emmy under your wing, then when you had Jamie and how they’re both growing into spectacular people, it’s awesome and I really couldn’t be any prouder of the woman you became. Never lose that will to do the right thing, never lose that Stark stubbornness, never lose that streak of ferocity that leaves everyone quaking in their boots. After everything you’ve been through, I’m just sorry that I’m bringing more shitty times to your door by meeting an untimely death, but I know you’ll get through the other side, you always do. Just remember, this was my choice to fight, my choice. So I don’t want anyone thinking they’re to blame. You know, I think, deep down, I’ve always known it would end this way ever since New York. And rather this than some crazy old bastard rattling round in a home not knowing what day it is.”

Katie took another deep breath as Tony wiped his hand down his face.

“Anyway, please make sure they don’t play any soppy shit at my funeral. AC/DC, Queen or Led Zep will suffice, maybe some Train, I dunno.” He winked and Katie smiled through her tears “And if Ross is there, give him this from me.” He raised his middle finger of his right hand before he chuckled. “But I don’t know why I’m recording all of this anyway as I’m sure it’s gonna work out. I’ll probably be sat here watching it back and grimacing at how ridiculously stupid I sound and look, but just in case…I want you to remember that I love you to the stars and back my girl, I always will, and I’m beyond proud of you.”

And with that the message cut off, leaving the kitchen quiet bar Katie’s shaking, soft sobs. Steve gently turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. She pressed her face into his chest, her hands sliding around his back where she gripped at his shirt her brother’s final goodbye to her echoing in her head.

**** Chapter 60

 **Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

[mallowstep]

What happened to Reedwhisker in your AU? In Canon, he is Mistyfoot and Blackclaw's only surviving kit. (Tbh I have NO IDEA how the poor boy survived Tigerclan in Canon. He was an apprentice, his mom and uncle were locked up, his remaining siblings were also locked up-I-... sometimes I look at some of your information on your Misty AU and think about that with THAT Canon fact, that Reedpaw, somehow, escaped the prison hole and torture but had to watch Tigerstar with his Mom, him abusing her, his uncle 'killed,' his brother starved, his sister being abused to where she gets sepsis, and eventually this child grows into a Tom. Something...Misty doesn't like.... This poor fucking child. I think about Reedwhisker alot and what he saw, and just....like...I'm glad this is such a fucking horrible thing to say) you didn't keep him alive like in Canon in your AU, but sometimes the idea of him living through the Misty AU like in canon...that keeps me up at night. Like. Him, alone in the apprentices den until Twanypaw shows up, him wondering Why He was so special not to be targeted by Tigerstar as well? Him, eyes wide as he watches Tigerstar playing house with his mom, his father being an absolute dick, Mudfur doing his best to both keep an eye on Reedpaw and keep him out of sight, just...this child has seen shit and....just Reedwhisker making himself smaller around Feather and Misty, or being the first to jump to their defense at any perceived slight. Just him.

ah, reedwhisker. yes, i feel with you. i too wonder a lot about him in canon, to the point where i often forget he lived through tigerclan.

i killed him because i really, really, really wanted tigerstar to say,

"Ah, I'm sorry," he says. "They're dead, aren't they?"

to mistyfoot. that's pretty much it. that and -- i needed her whole first litter of kits to be dead for the emotional arc, but i could've killed him during the great battle for those purposes. primrosepaw is said to die of greencough, and so in the misty au, that's how reedpaw died as well.

but. putting that aside for the sake of digging into the absolutely wonderful angst of him not dying that i sadly, due to narrative, had to pass up,

(see this is part of why i like talking abt ideas. i don't Have to worry about Story Arcs. i'm allowed to just enjoy myself.)

okay so -- uh i should put a cut in yeah.

cw: sexual assault

okay so -- i have dawnpaw down as an apprentice at the same time as featherpaw and co, so reedpaw is thankfully not Terribly alone. also, cedarpaw and rowanpaw of shadowclan but -- dawnpaw doesn't talk to them. and nor would reedpaw.

Dawnpaw watches her with barely veiled contempt. "Ignore her," Rowanpaw says. "She's like that with everyone." Dawnpaw flicks her tail. She doesn't eat with them, and the only reason she sleeps in the same den as them is by necessity. Heavystep beckons her over. "RiverClan thinks they're all that," Rowanpaw says. "You know how it is."

rowanpaw you socially inept idiot.

anyway, i think...maybe it's best if he escapes through subterfuge? maybe tigerstar doesn't know that he's mistyfoot's kit and no one tells him and when they realize what's happening -- if they can save just one apprentice, of course they would lie about it.

(also, for added angst, in the misty au, blackclaw and mistyfoot fall out because the combined stress of losing four children and mistyfoot being revealed as half clan. so -- blackclaw and mistyfoot are like. way better in this. hnng.)

oh yeah. he has a lot to watch dear god in heaven. he'd prob be made to fight featherpaw too? like oh my god. ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

okay if i wrote the misty au like this, the scene where featherpaw beats dawnpaw would be replaced with featherpaw beating reedpaw. just so you know. that angst would be there. and mistyfoot is like "aw fuck."

because they can't talk about reedpaw even in their prison. they could be overheard, and then reedpaw would be -- maybe killed. or featherpaw would be. or both of them. so they can't say a word about it, ever, ever ever ever.

and -- i think. oh god. i dunno. i think -- i mean it's hard for everyone. obviously. but featherpaw knows mistyfoot intimately, like. the way you do when you go thru something with someone. you understand and predict their reactions in a very specific way.

and stonefur and stormheart are both angry. stonefur is a lot "colder" of an anger, and stormheart doesn't have any published pov, but he's angry.

but reedpaw -- reedwhisker. he knows but did not experience, he's angry but also aware of how his anger would be perceived by his mother and sister and. oh. god. the angst.

and -- god. he wouldn't even like. okay so maximum angst would be keeping the line about kits and tigerstar just -- doesn't realize reedpaw is one of mistyfoot's kits, which means that tigerstar knows that blackclaw and mistyfoot are mates, which means that reedpaw can't even look to his father for comfort. he's got dawnpaw, and again, sharing a den with shadowclan apprentices. so he just -- has to pretend that this is all dispersonal.

like of course he feels bad about it -- all of riverclan does -- but he can't let on that this is his family. hnng.

and oh my god like. yeah. tawnypaw and reedpaw as "way too aware of the misty/tiger shit."

tawnypaw as "my father is raping someone regularly and is proud of it and he wants me to be supportive of it?"

and reedpaw as "my mother is being raped and we're not even supposed to be upset about it and i think he would probably kill my sister if i let on that they're my family so i just have to be okay with this despite being extremely not okay with this."

(and mistyfoot as. oh my god mistyfoot. i'm so sorry.

like this scene

Mudfur tries to approach her, as she walks back to Featherpaw, but she doesn't acknowledge him. That is the condition, she thinks, because no one is walking her back. They are watching her, of course, but she walks freely to Featherpaw.

like oh my god. oh my god. what does -- like. ahhh. she's hurt in this scene -- maybe visibly, maybe not. certainly -- clan knows what happened last night. and now she's walking across camp and she's -- if she derails or acknowledges anyone then -- she doesn't know what will happen but she doesn't think it'd be good.

and she really wants to know is if her son is okay. is he okay is he okay is he okay. but she can't do or say anything. mudfur can't do or say anything. blackclaw can't do or say anything. they all have to keep this secret and -- oh.)

yeah. i don't know who reedpaw's mentor is...oh. no.

okay here's a fun idea. shadepelt as reedpaw's mentor. she's a little young but hear me out. reedpaw gets reassigned to a shadowclan mentor because shadepelt might have corrupted him and. oh. oh my god.

anyway. wait that's actually. because pre-rescue, shadepelt and mudfur and all of riverclan are keeping reedpaw out of sight. just. trying to not to fail everyone. but now his mentor is like.

his mentor is blackfoot. you know. one of. oh my god.

tawnypaw and reedpaw as "we're supposed to be from okay to supportive of this" oh my god.

and reedwhisker would wrack up so much survivor's guilt. feathertail would -- probably be scared of him. she really only fights shadowclan cats but -- they want reedpaw to prove his loyalty. and she doesn't want to be -- that's her brother, she loves him -- but she can't help it.

bet she Tries To Hide It.

reedwhisker would Definitely step in. i think he'd blame blackclaw. for not doing more. yeah. that's good angst. he'd also.

okay so. when stormpaw comes back. reedpaw has been -- they've had not even a day of freedom. and he's already juggling all of this complicated stuff but then stormpaw terrifies featherpaw and reedpaw is so mad at him.

like. she wanted to see you, was happy to see you -- how do you fuck it up that bad?

it's not that it's actually stormpaw's fault, but reedpaw feels like it is.

all of the apprentices are now At Odds with one another. ahhh. angst.

and i think -- yeah. he'd actually probably be mad at stormpaw for a while. it'd be mutual.

because stormheart is like -- why didn't you do something? and reedwhisker is like -- why didn't you come back for them? and.

yeah. and the whole thing makes Feathertail Feel Terrible and when they realize that she's been caught in the crossfire now they just are angry at themselves.

god. anyway. thanks for giving me more angst to ramble about.

<3

#misty au #adjacent #uh #reed au #there we go #lmadsk;jdfs #ask #anon #mine #oh my god this was very fun to write about #like #very fun to think out #yeah

[withoneheadlight]

Fic Writer Questions

I was tagged by @neonponders, thank you so much, love! 🔅🔅🔅💓💓

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have a few accounts? xD I’ve got 23 in the one I’m using now, but it's all very tiny.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

54,159

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

mmmm…

Game of Thrones

Supernatural

Teen Wolf

Harry potter

Pacific rim

Stranger Things

And a few minor fandoms

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

‘That’s how you close an open wound’ | ‘Kinda wanna make us happen’ | ‘It burns in my tongue’ | ‘The Buckley-Hargrove dilemma’ | ‘Forget the paths written in the palm of your hand’

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always, always try to. Sometimes It might take me a little while to get to things but I try to never forget to answer. I honestly appreciate the effort it takes to leave a comment or a note or tags in a reblog, and I also try to always answer to those. I think it’s important to show to that person how much it means to you that they’ve taken the time to reach out. Because it is so important to the writer. So important it can even be determinant for us to keep on writing.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Uff. It was a Ned/Robert, for Game of Thrones (more like Asoiaf). And I basically cried the whole time. I still do, when I re-read it. I managed to actually capture something, in that one.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Sometimes? I wrote a Supernatural/Lost Boys thing back in the day that’s still 2? 3? Chapters from being finished? Hopefully one day. And I have not as much a crossover as an ‘inspired on’ the Goonies universe Teen Wolf fic where Derek and Stiles go to Stiles’ mom natal town to investigate a polish ghost pirate ship while falling in love. And a tiny harringrove /Men in Black au where Agent S and Agent B end up paired with a demo-puppy.

Wich one's the craziest, I honestly don't know. All of them feel pretty ??? to me! xD

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeh, a few times. Basically just bc of writing m|m, of bc my 'awful writing' or for catboy!Steve xD.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yep. I’ve always considered myself more smut writer than anything else. Now I guess I’m a smut writer with pretensions xD. (Truth be told, when I started writing I didn't imagine I would be capable of writing anything more than that). So I wasn’t actyally writing that much smut when I landed on harringrove. I was more focused on the pretensions (aka the gosh pirate ship fic). But harringrove and their chemistry hit me hard, I literally put aside everything else and started writing them like crazy, including lots of smut bc hfahfsafhfhsifhs. Another reason is that it’s hard for me to keep other kinds of stories short, but smut not that much (I get an idea for an slightly emotionally charged scene I like and I suddenly feel the need to write 10k for it minimum). So I focused more on smutty stuff when I jumped into this language, as a way to have something finished on my hands, feel like I was making some kind of progress (BUT ALSO: THE CHEMISTRY).

And I guess my smut comes in diametric opposites, or at least that’s how I perceive it. Plain, straightforward smut, or heavily (in my head, at least) emotional smut. I’M IN LOVE WITH the way we can use touch and slow pace and physical sensations and glances to enhance what we’re saying about emotions in a sexual scene.

Also, and contradictorily, smut is so hard to write sometimes for me! So another good thing is that when I finish one smutty story I suddenly feel like a can write anything! Haha.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeh. A few times. Both Sterek oneshots :(.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yess! <3<3<3< To Chinese and Russian and English and I <3<3<3<3<3<3<33<3<3<3<

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Was about two once, with a friend. But sadly both out lives became real busy, so didn’t. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be cut for it, but I wanted to test it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

The last ship I land on always feels like my fav to me. But it might be true in this case. Bc yeah, harringrove.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ufff, too many.

What are your writing strengths?

Uh. Eh. Well. I hopeguess sometimes it sounds good? I can’t control that in eng as much as i do in spa bc I don’t have any real knowledge of the phonology but, well. I try. And that’s one of the aspects I put more thought/work into because I LOVE that.

Sometimes I like my dialogue and sometimes I like my pacing/rhythm. Sometimes I feel like I’ve managed to convey/describe one feeling the way I wanted to.

I dunno. I try to keep my head in a the ‘get the work done’ space not as much as in the ‘is good’. Not easy but, again, try is the key word in here.

I rely a lot in the editing process but I think I’m actually good at that. At least, when I finish, I like the prettified version way more than the ‘raw’ one.

What are your writing weaknesses?

My writing reads the same way my brain works: in a cluttered, messy way. And I don’t like it but. I feel like I can’t change it. Can control it, sometimes. I manage to keep the ‘too much’ at bay but other times it just wins me. I also keep rolling my eyes at how sticky-sweet I can get and despise the way I keep repeating formulas and sentence structures (I feel you @neonponders ) but. Ugh. They just. Happen? Gah.

But! I actually feel more at peace with all that than it might look like xD. ‘Cause the alternatives is not writing and that I cannot do so 🤷‍♂️

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ahhh, I LOVE IT! Started doing it with the kegboys, basically to treat myself XD, and I’ve got it in a few wips and also in this dumb thing I wrote. I think it’s fun, and it also adds certain feeling of expansion to the world the characters live in, helps us remember there’s more (people, places, types of lives and ways of communicating and meanings) aside from the ones represented in the scene/wholeness of the story. I’m aware that too much can be confusing and tiring for the reader, but not more than a bit is needed, really. Also, can be used to induce some fun misunderstandings xD.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Some fantasy book series I was reading at the moment, during my ‘epic fantasy’ phase xD.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably one supernatural fic I wrote ages ago. It isn’t particularly well written or anything. But was one of the first longer-ish things I wrote. And I still feel proud about that one. And I always felt so happy writing Theon Greyjoy, so I really love the things I wrote for him. And the ship fic, again, if I ever finish it! Except I feel like I can’t stop writing harringrove.

I’m tagging! @memes-saved-me @edith-moonshadow @disdaidal @dyingontheharringrovehill @wherearetheplums @c0bblenygma @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger @pretty-bratty @ghostofjellyfishforgotten

#tagged!!! #thanks neonponders 💖💖💖💖💖 #this was fun #withoneheadlight

[autumnslance]

Fic Writer Meme

Tagged by: @elveny​ and @illegiblewords​.

Tagging: Whoever wants to, including YOU.

Name

Fandoms

Most popular oneshot

Most popular multichapter

Actual worst part of writing

How you choose your titles

Do you outline

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?

Callouts @ Me

Best writing traits

Spicy Tangential Opinion

Name: Online I go mostly by LynMars, sometimes with a 79 appended depending on availability. Some guildies still refer to me by my old WoW char names. On Discord I often add this blog to my handle and keep the characters in my note.

Fandoms: Right now just FFXIV. I debate rewriting and reposting some of my old WoW stories. I haven't written for other fandoms I peek at. I mostly hold fandom at arm's length.

Most popular oneshot: Depending on metrics used, on Ao3 it'd be "A Constant Distant Thunder", my fic on Thancred's recovery in the ARR patch series, up to the Slyphlands events (and referencing quests that sadly no longer exist in game).

On Tumblr it's "Rules for a Warrior of Light" followed by "Never Gets Easier." Both are on Ao3 as well, the former in “Ruminations” the latter by itself.

Most popular multichapter: I only have a couple true multichapter fics featuring an actual coherently plotted story; I have several compilation fics of scenes over time held together by a theme.

For my few actual multichapters, "Rogue's Prelude" is going to be the clear winner. I do want to write more, and it’ll likely be another Damned Rogue piece.

Depending on metrics, "Downtime" and "Unexpected" are neck and neck, but they are compilations, not true multichapter stories.

Actual worst part of writing: Starting something, not getting too impatient and skipping or cutting necessary elements, then actually editing and deciding it's finished and being brave enough to post it, or not hampering myself with "well but I want to write other things in order and..."

The whole process has its highs and lows.

How you choose your titles: Really depends. Sometimes I have the title before anything else. Sometimes it's obvious. Many times I'm struggling to find something pithy that works. Sometimes what I think is the draft's working title so I know how to find it in my docs ends up becoming the real title after all; usually it changes, though.

Do you outline: Depends. For longer works, yeah; there'll be something resembling an outline. This can be for multichapters or simply longer/heavier one shots, like "A Constant Distant Thunder" or "Return to Dreams of Ice" where there are certain scenes and/or elements I want to ensure I've figured out.

For most prompts or one-shots, though, I don't really worry about outlining. I may jot notes down, especially when taking a break, so I recall what I want to say/do next, but it's generally not a huge thing.

Even when I do outline, it's more some rambling notes to myself.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?: So many. I can't even think of them all. And some of them will likely get reworked into other stories anyway.

Sometimes I think of AUs, but I'm not a big AU fan, but it's one of those 'wish I had the bent toward that' sometimes.

Callouts @ Me: Hey, a lot of those WIPs and drafts ARE as ready as they're gonna get and should be posted to “Living Memory”, “Unexpected”, or just go ahead and make threads for Aeryn's adventures as the WoL each expac. Procrastinating just because it's not in a linear order is silly.

Best writing traits: I dunno? I'm bad at gauging myself, really. I guess I'm good at dialogue and getting into characters' heads to make them sound believably close to canon and existing as people in their world.

Spicy Tangential Opinion: I dunno; my opinions tend to change as I gather more information and perspectives, and that's a good thing. I can be wrong about topics and people and shift my mindset and expectations accordingly. When I don't, it often leads to hurt on one end or another. I mostly try to be chill these days because most of the time fandom is just not worth getting worked up about, even if I hate an opinion or dislike a person. I can easily just Unfollow/Block/Mute/Scroll Past/Ignore, it costs nothing--especially my own time, energy, and emotional stress. It's taken me too long to learn that and I still can slip up sometimes.

I guess that's my spicy opinion, given modern Fandom and social media.

#Lyn Meta #Lyn Prompts #Writing #About Me #Blogging #Memes

[laurawritesandgames]

Title: The Children We Never Had

Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Beetlejuice/Barbara/Adam

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: References to miscarriages and abortion

Summary: As Delia and Charles prepare to start their family together, Barbara reflects on her chance to have her own children. What once seemed so simple can become much more complicated when you’re a ghost....

Delia and Charles had just completed the first round of IVF treatments. Delia was fanatic about getting all toxins out of the house, so one Saturday the Maitlands, Beetlejuice and Lydia were helping Delia get rid of any plastic containers in the kitchen, to be replaced with glass containers.

“Why is there so much Tupperware?” Delia exclaimed.

“One of Mom’s friends sold Tupperware, and we had a few parties,” Lydia said. “Mom was sick for years. If she’d been able to keep up with the science, I doubt she would’ve kept them. She was nuts about the environment.” Lydia frowned thoughtfully. “Say, Delia, what exactly are your thoughts on vaccines?”

Barbara and Adam shared a look. They knew from the Maitland-Deetz’s biweekly parenting meetings that Delia had anti-vaxxer tendencies. She was, at least, open to a respectful discussion about vaccines. Give Charles a few conversations and she’d probably give in to science and reason—the newlyweds were crazy for each other.

Not that Lydia had any of that context.

“I’m just not convinced vaccines are necessary. I have some very interesting websites I can show you later, Lydia. There’s a lot of doubt about the so-called ‘science’ that Big Pharma doesn’t want you to see.”

Lydia’s lip curled in the disgust.

“Are you an idiot?!” Beetlejuice said. “I lived in a world without vaccines. It was shit!”

“I just don’t know if I’m willing to take that risk,” Delia said, with her polite, argument-deflecting smile. Adam’s parents had been masters at avoiding conflict, so Barbara knew what would happen next. She’d say something light or silly and try to get everyone focused on the kitchen again.  

“I should draw a door and bring you to the Netherworld, Delia. Give you a tour of Diaper Town so you can see all the dead babies that’re there from before childhood vaccines were a thing.”

“Diaper Town?” Lydia asked.

“Eh, that’s not the real name—just what we called it. Where the dead babies go. Ugh! I had a shift in Diaper Town for a few decades. It was the worst.”

“I imagine they look like they did when they died,” Lydia said, thoughtfully.

“And they never age! That’s the only reason people hang around babies—because they eventually become not-babies.”

“What about miscarriages? Mom had a few before me. Is there going to be a clump of Deetz cells in the Netherworld?”

Barbara reached out for Adam’s hand and found it within seconds. (He’d been across the room a second ago. He must have teleported.) She clenched it. Hard. 

Beetlejuice didn’t notice.

As a ghost, you were always cold. Barbara couldn’t get colder. She also couldn’t swallow to try to wet a dry mouth. Her hands wouldn’t grow cold and prickly with shock. Her emotions were completely disconnected from bodily sensations. She could feel Adam behind her and leaned back into him slightly. Not that he made her feel warmer. Nothing ever would.

If she’d been alive, she might’ve looked like Delia: her face pale as she forced a too-wide smile onto her face. “Let’s all talk about something else, shall we? I don’t want any bad vibes.” Her hand rested on her stomach. During one of their parenting meetings, she’d mentioned she only had a few eggs left. “Not—not right now.”

Lydia glared at her. “Seriously? Hearing about a dead woman’s fertility issues isn’t going to hurt your fetus.”

“The Deetus,” Beetlejuice added. “Deetz fetus. Get it?”

Lydia ignored him. “Bad vibes aren’t a thing!”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that one.” Delia hurried out of the kitchen. “Would anyone mind a smudging ceremony? Just to clear the air and usher in tranquility?”

Lydia followed with a shriek of rage. “’Smudging ceremony’? Are you from an Indigenous tribe, Delia? Because if you’re not, that’s major cultural appropriation!”

“Ooo, cultural appropriation! I know that one!” Beetlejuice said, delighted. When he’d first come back from the Netherworld, the Maitlands had held a few sensitivity seminars for him so he could stop getting into arguments with Lydia. Beetlejuice’s views were a weird mix of surprisingly progressive and incredibly archaic. “It’s a culture, not a costume!” He floated over to Barbara and Adam. “Did I do that right? Do I get a kiss?”

It took a lot of effort to focus on Beetlejuice right now. “Sorry,” Barbara said. “We’re not going to reward you for being a decent person. But thank you for trying.”

Beetlejuice huffed in disappointment.

Adam cleared his throat. Barbara glanced at him. Adam tilted his head slightly at Beetlejuice, raising his eyebrows questioningly. He was asking her for permission to tell Beetlejuice. After a moment’s thought, Barbara nodded. Beetlejuice liked to keep things light, but he was their boyfriend, after all. He should learn a bit more about Barbara and Adam.

“What happens to children who died before they were born?” Adam asked quietly.

Beetlejuice shrugged. “I dunno. I was born dead in one of the original versions of the musical, but it ain’t canon. There aren’t any fetuses floating around the Netherworld. Maybe they go someplace else?” He shrugged, spreading his hands. “I got nothing.” 

Out of habit (not because she actually needed to breathe), Barbara sighed in relief. Thank God, was her first thought, despite having a pretty good idea that God didn’t exist. She let of of Adam’s hand, giving him a small smile.

“Why do you wanna know?” Beetlejuice asked.

Barbara shared another look with Adam before saying, “When I was 22, I got pregnant.” She cleared her throat. She hadn’t talked about this in years.

Beetlejuice didn’t like silences. Immediately, he said, “Quit pulling my leg. If you were pregnant, then where’s your—”

It took a few moments, but his eyes finally widened and his jaw dropped. “Oh. Ohhhh. I didn’t think…” His hands began flapping, then running up and down his sleeves and fiddling with his cuffs. “So we’re bringing in some of the movie backstory. Okay. Okay. Sure.”

“The what?” Adam asked.

“Nevermind. So you guys had a miscarriage.”

“An abortion, actually,” Barbara said.

Beetlejuice stopped bobbing faintly, freezing in mid-air. His voice rose in pitch as he said, “I saw the tags on this fic and I assumed you’d be hurt/comforting me! I’m the one with all the issues! Who the hell told you that you guys could have issues?!” 

“What now?” Barbara said, forcing her tone to stay even. 

“And also, our lives weren’t perfect,” Adam said. “I just want to remind you that both of my parents are dead. So…yeah. When we were alive, we had struggles and challenges like everybody else.”

Beetlejuice began coughing. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, eventually pulling out a foot and tossing it on the ground. (Barbara had learned not to ask whose foot.) “Um. Can I try again?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Feel free.”

Beetlejuice opened and closed his mouth a few times, but didn’t say anything.

Adam said, “Just so you know, Bug, this isn’t something to share.” Beetlejuice was a compulsive oversharer; they’d learned to explicitly tell him what was appropriate and what wasn’t.

“It’s not because we’re ashamed,” Barbara said quickly. “It’s just our story to tell, that’s all.”

“Right! I can do that.” He focused on something in the middle distance. “Although maybe some people could really examine their need to inject complicated real-world issues into a stupid five-page fic for Beetlelands Week. Not every fandom and every fic can bear that weight! And some characters definitely aren’t designed to deal with shit like this! They’re awesome Deadpool-style badasses and not…not…whatever this needs!”

Barbara loved Beetlejuce, but he was getting on her last nerve. I didn’t think he’d completely disassociate like this. It’s only a goddamn abortion. He didn’t even have to deal with anything! “Well, I’m sorry my and Adam’s history is such an inconvenience for you. I’m going to go find something to do. If you want to talk when you’re not spiraling and doing whatever this is, come find me.”

Barbara teleported to their bedroom, the Deetzes’ former guest room, upstairs, and Adam teleported with her.

Tears wavered in his eyes. Startled, she held him, stroking his back.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“No, don’t be.”

He sniffled a few times, wiping his tears away. Their ghostly bodies still remembered how to produce tears, and if Beetlejuice was any indication, that memory would stick with them for centuries. He whispered, “We would’ve had a child. If it weren’t for me—”

Adam had always felt needless guilt about mentioning the abortion first. She’d thought he’d gotten over it. “You didn’t force me. We had student loans, the recession had just hit the year before, we couldn’t find work, and most importantly? We weren’t ready. We were barely ready 10 years later, when we had a house and good jobs.”

He smiled sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know where this is coming from.” He stroked her cheek. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

She blinked. “I’m…fine? I’ve been fine for 10 years.” She hadn’t been fine immediately before and after the abortion. There’d been lots of crying, praying, and long conversations, but that had been a long time ago. Gently, she asked, “I thought you were, too. Was I wrong?”

When did we really talk about it except immediately after? Barbara couldn’t recall.

Adam gave her that same distracted smile he used to give her after his parents’ funeral. He was a brave little soldier, marching forward. “You weren’t wrong. I’m fine.”

You didn’t push when you saw that smile. “I think I’m going to read something. Want to join me?”

“I wouldn’t mind working on the model a bit more. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” She kissed his cheek, and he went up to the attic to work on his model of Winter River.

She was choosing between Michelle Obama’s biography a polyamory how-to guide when a spider skittered underneath the door. The spider climbed up the wall then began spinning a web in the corner of the room at unnatural speed. Letters appeared in the web.

SORRY

I WAS A BAD BOYFRIEND

It’s a Charlotte’s Web homage, Barbara realized. She’d loved that book as a child. He remembered. “Apology accepted, Beetlejuice.”

He knocked on the door. Opening it revealed him reading from index cards. Delia, who was using her life coach skills to help Beetlejuice adjust to being part of the family, had encouraged him to write down important things.

“I should have reacted a lot better than I did,” Beetlejuice read. “You and Adam trusted me with with a part of your lives, and I should have liz—lizden? Shit, I’m bad at spelling.” He looked up from the cards, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Anyway, thanks for trusting me, baby. Sorry I was being a dick about it. You and Adam having an—an abortion had nothing to do with me or my feelings.”

Beetlejuice could talk about the filthiest sex acts and talk about rotting corpses without flinching, but now he was stumbling. Interesting. “Well, ‘we had an abortion’ might’ve been a lot to throw at you. We could’ve prepared you better.” She nodded him inside, and he floated in. She closed the door behind her. “I imagine abortions weren’t really talked about in your day.”

“Well, we thought ladies’ wombs wandered around their bodies, so…no.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Um…are you okay?” He fidgeted. “You’re all…y’know, motherly and shit. Are you sad about having an abortion?”

“No. I mean, I don’t love that I needed it. Adam and I were a lot more careful making love after that, believe me. But Adam and my family had my back, and luckily I live in a state where I can access an abortion easily. I also found some forums, and chatting with people who’d also had abortions helped me feel less alone. Honestly, until Lydia brought up miscarriages today, I hadn’t thought about my abortion in years.” Feeling awkward, she chuckled. “Um, really glad I won’t have to deal with a clump of cells following me around in the Netherworld, though.”

She felt a twinge of guilt for not feeling guiltier. Her Good Christian Girl upbringing still reared its head now and then. But I did what was best for my family at the time. That’s all anyone can do. If I’d known Adam and I were going to die 10 years later, we might’ve done things differently, but how could we have known that?

“So, that’s my story. I was supported and very lucky. I’m not sad or guilty or anything.” She frowned. “Adam might be, though. He was strangely upset.” Did I do something wrong? Has he been suffering for years without me noticing? “He’s upstairs working on the model again.”

“I’ll cheer him up!” Beetlejuice said. He clapped his hands together. “It’s hurt/comfort. Time to be goddamn comforted, Adam.”

“I’d give him a few hours.” Adam was a brooder. There was a certain point where he just wouldn’t engage.

Beetlejuice chuckled, patting her smarmily on the head. “Your boring, married-couple rules don’t apply to me, Babs. I’mma shake things up and heal his wounded heart. You can come up and watch, if you want. Watch me win.”

Barbara made herself laugh as she tried to ignore her jealousy. Beetlejuice was just being his usual low-grade dickish self, but what if he was right? Maybe Adam will respond better to Beetlejuice than to me. I didn’t expect Adam to be this sad, after all. What else have I missed? “If you succeed, feel free to come back and give me a play-by-play of your victory.”

Beetlejuice poofed away, and Barbara picked up the how-to guide to polyamory. It couldn’t help to get a refresher.

If Beetlejuice made Adam feel better, then that was a win for everyone. She could ask him how he’d done it and learn from him. The entire point of dating Beetlejuice was to break out of their old patterns and add a little excitement to their afterlives.  

Barbara was lying down on their bed, reading the first chapter when Beetlejuice teleported back in.

“You mighta been right,” he grumbled.

“It’s almost like I’ve been dating him since I was 16.”

“Of course you were high school sweethearts. You two are so cliché, I blocked that out.” Beetlejuice floated closer, whining, “Sexy raised his voice to me, Barbara!”

Barbara set the book down. “Oh, I’m sorry, Bug.” That was the Adam equivalent of full-blown shouting. (Adam had shouted at Beetlejuice before, of course, but that was when Beetlejuice had been a villain.)

“Me! The favourite!”

Barbara raised her eyebrows. “Maybe you should read this chapter with me about egalitarian polyamorous relationships—and how terms like ‘favourite’ are toxic.”

Beetlejuice floated away from her. “Mmm, nope, too many things to do.”

She’d expected that. It wasn’t clear when Beetlejuice had died, but it was definitely before therapy and couple’s counselling had become more mainstream. He didn’t have the same ability to talk about and reflect on his and other’s feelings that Barbara and Adam had. Usually, he just reacted to his own. Barbara wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with Beetlejuice if she’d been unwilling to teach him.

“Lemme know when he’s ready to talk, okay?” the demon continued.

“Well, I don’t have a psychic link to him, but I’ll try…if you read this chapter with me.”

Beetlejuice crossed his arms over his chest, harrumphing. After a few moments, he shrugged, floated over to the bed, and curled up beside her.

If her eyes could water, they might have at the smell of rotting flesh. But Barbara quickly got used to the smell. “Let me guess—your clones poked around and didn’t find anything else interesting happening right now?”

“Ha! Busted! Delia, Lydia and Charles are still arguing about vaccines. Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap. Making out with you is way more fun.”

“We’re learning how to have a more equitable, communicative relationship. Not making out.”

“We’ll see, baby.”

*

They approached Adam later that afternoon.              

He looked up from a figurine he was painting, expression guilty. “I’ll come down when it’s time for dinner, okay?” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Is there anything we can do for you now?” Barbara asked.

He looked between Barbara and Beetlejuice. His eyes were so haunted…. Barbara took a few steps forward.

“Adam?” she said softly.

“You said we weren’t ready,” he murmured roughly. “What if we would’ve been? We never even gave ourselves the chance….”

He showed her what he’d been working on: a little child figurine with her blonde hair. “There would’ve been part of you and me living now. Someone with your hair and my eyes, or your smile….”

Okay. We haven’t talked about the abortion in years, and now he’s making a model of what would have become our child. So, this is new. But I can handle this. I know him. I’ve got this.

Nevertheless, a tiny part of her really wanted to tag out and let Beetlejuice handle this one. Not that he would’ve done well—he was frozen except for his eyes, frantically flicking between her and Adam.

While Barbara thought of the most empathetic, respectful way to respond, Beetlejuice blurted out, “Someone’s got a case of the Shouldas.”

“Hmm?” Adam grunted, looking uninterested.

“You know, shoulda done this when I was alive. Shoulda done that. Every newlydead goes through it. Of course, usually they’re stuck in an endless void and not chilling in the living world with their sexy boyfriend.” Beetlejuice nodded to Barbara. “And your sexy wife.”

So he had learned something from that chapter they’d read together. Barbara gave him a small smile. “How do newlydeads usually get through it?” she asked.

“‘Get through’ is real optimistic, Babs. They just get crushed by overwhelming despair and hopelessness. It’s the Netherworld. Everything sucks there.”

Adam grunted again.

Beetlejuice rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I can’t really talk about ‘healing’ and shit….” He gestured frantically for Barbara to do something.

One thing about spending so much time with Beetlejuice was that you got used to out-of-the box thinking. It was time for a little experiment. Barbara didn’t give herself time to think, and dove right in.

“Congratulations, Maitlands.” She made air horn noises. The words ‘The Life We Never Had’ appeared in bright text above the model town. “Welcome to your life where you had your child!”

Adam and Beetlejuice both stared at her in stunned silence.

“This got so dark, so fast, but I kinda love it,” Beetlejuice commented.

“Well,” she said, “first of all, forget this house. We’d probably be living with your parents. They don’t even live in town.” She took a few moments to create a mental map, then gestured at the model. It grew larger, to the surrounding counties. Adam’s family farm was on the outskirts of this new map.

“And forget the CPA degree. No way we can afford that now. But your uncle Eddy has that plumbing business. He’d probably give you a job.” She manifested Eddy’s truck, making it drive through town. “I’d probably knit and sell things on Etsy…. Wait, it’s 2010. Does Etsy even exist?” Barbara couldn’t remember. “Or I’d sell them at the local farmer’s market. We probably still love our projects, even if we don’t have as much time for them now.”

Barbara could’ve gone darker. In this future, she would’ve been stuck in Adam’s parents’ home with no career prospects and a baby she wasn’t sure she wanted. If anything was a recipe for postpartum depression, that would’ve been. But she kept it light.

“Oh, jeez,” she realized, “I forgot all about names! What do you think of Aspen?” Barbara had always wanted a nature-themed name.

“It has the word ‘Ass’ in it,” Beetlejuice complained. “Do you want bullies to give your kid swirlies?”

“You’re not here, mister. You don’t get a say.”

“Hey, that’s right! We never meet if you don’t move into the house.” Beetlejuice frowned. “Truly, this is the darkest timeline.”

“What about River?” Adam said. “For our child.”

“River. That’s beautiful. Okay, so little River goes to school here.” She gestured to the school in town. “What do you think? Good grades?”

“Of course.”

“And then you guys commit crimes!” Beetlejuice interrupted.

Barbara raised her eyebrows.

“What? Boring people commit crimes all the time and become awesome. Weeds? Breaking Bad?”

“I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t.”

“Argh, fine, I was just getting bored of all this slice-of-life shit. Let’s spice things up!”

“Ooo, maybe we solve crimes? Like a cozy mystery set in rural Connecticut.”

“Committing them is way more fun, but I’ll take anything at this point. Your ideal lives are so boring! River’s gonna do meth just to feel alive!”

“They might fall in with a bad crowd in high school,” Barbara said.

“Thank you! A little conflict, please. It’s the essence of drama!”

“But we’d be there for them,” Adam said. “Hmm. Mom and Dad would still die, I suppose. I’d probably disappoint my Maitland ancestors and sell the farm.”

Barbara watched him intently. He wasn’t smiling, but he seemed a bit more engaged than he had been.

“We could move into one of the homes here,” she suggested, nodding to one of the small houses on the outside of town.

“That’s gonna really suck for you when the zombies attack,” Beetlejuice said.

Barbara kept making up their fake life, with Adam chiming in every now and then, both of them trying to ignore Beetlejuice’s input. They tried to give River a nice life, with a full-ride scholarship to NYU (which was, coincidentally, Lydia’s dream school), lots of friends, and a home that may not be full of money but was full of love.

Eventually, Adam smiled and shook his head. “Thanks for playing dolls with me, guys.”

Barbara hugged him from behind. “If you need time to mourn, take all the time you need. Beetlejuice and I are here for you.”

Adam wiped some tears from his eyes. “I think I do. Sorry, sweetie. Sometimes all the things we never got to do…they just hit me, hard. Even things I’d made peace with long ago. I spent so much of my life worrying….”

Barbara moved to stand beside him, kissing his cheek. If she could’ve made him feel warm, she would have.

Beetlejuice was spaced out, staring into the middle distance. Thinking of his own Shouldas, maybe? Nah. He never looks back unless he’s trapped in a traumatic memory about his mother. Probably wondering when we can make out again.

She nodded him over, and he blinked, coming back to the present. Hesitantly, he floated over and rested his chin on Adam’s head.

They were both still and silent, two things Beetlejuice hated, so it wasn’t surprising when a horde of centipedes skittered across the model, or a tiny King Kong grabbed a figurine and climbed up to the top of the town bell tower, roaring.

Lydia interrupted them when she she poked her head into the attic and told them dinner was ready. “And the leftovers will be stored in glass containers—if you leave us any leftovers, Beej. Delia cleared the cupboard of all plastics. Don’t worry about the baby, either. If Delia continues to believe tea tree oil can cure pneumonia or whatever, Dad and I will get the kid vaccinated when she’s not around.”

Barbara smiled at her chosen daughter. Beetlejuice was right; they weren’t stuck in the lonely void of the Netherworld. There was life and family just downstairs. “I’m glad. But I’m sure we’ll be able to convince her otherwise. We have nine months.”

“You’re more optimistic than I am, Barbara.”

Adam put the River figurine with the smattering of other children outside the grade school. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

The three of them followed Lydia to the dinner table.

#beetlelandsweek2020 #beetlelands #goldenbeetle #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice x adam x barbara

[lambourngb]

Get me out of here - places to go when canon is complicated

It’s Day 3, time to celebrate those stories that I turn to when I can’t deal with canon, or when I don’t have the emotional energy to untangle all the emotions I have for what’s going on in canon. Alternative universes, the safe harbor for us. Below are a mix of rewrites of canon, remixes of canon, or out right not even set in Roswell- to fill every type distance you want from canon- from near to far.

The first story I’m reccing is a long one,- so pardon the very long review below.

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage (267,600) So one day, Jessi popped into discord to share a dream she had about timetravel and being able to save yourself in the past basically, particularly Alex getting to give his baby-self a hug, and we all went, “holy shit that’s a cool fic idea please write it!” and really reality sucks right now with quarantine and whatnot, so what better thing to do than follow a WIP? I can’t tell you how badly I needed to something to look forward to as I was staring down a milestone birthday with all my plans in tatters, and this story filled the void.

Okay- now about the actual story itself, the world building about time travel in this is incredible but easy to absorb. Jessi dumps you straight into the action in chapter 1 with Alex, at 28, assassinating an Iraqi intelligence agent in 2009 that averts a bomb that was planned on US forces. You learn so much about both the story-universe and Alex here- one, that even dressed in mask and killing someone, Alex is kind and uses morphine as an overdose and has arranged for his victim’s family to be compensated, you learn that time agents can only visit places they themselves have visited during that time, and Jesse Manes had dragged his son, who was ‘time aware’ to every place of war and ruin on the planet before he was 18 and that, Alex’s victim, even as he’s dying, recognizes what a shit childhood Alex had but that Alex doesn’t.

The next part is where Alex’s time crystal malfunctions, instead of returning him to 2018, it takes him to 1998 where an 8 year old Michael is getting beaten by his foster dad and Alex, out of his time line mysteriously, visible to only Michael, saves him, but only temporarily. We all know with abusers, until you’re out of the house, it’s just a matter of time before the next beating. However, with one act, Alex at 28 starts putting into action (even though he doesn’t recognize it at the time) the steps to save his own life as he works to save Michael from his childhood. Each mission, each jump through time, Alex meets Michael, always a year apart and only for 1000 seconds, or almost 17 minutes. Jessi takes you through some of the darkest points of US foreign policy, only as Alex takes control of his life, he also starts to change the missions, and change the world. The details of places, people, food, etc are authentic from the author’s experience, if you don’t click on the links at the end of the chapters and disappear down google-rabbit holes about the events in history, well- you’re made of stronger stuff than I am.  There are lots of heavy subjects discussed, but there’s always care and honesty behind the intent. The way Michael grows, the way Alex grows, and of course the journey to the present time when they could be together? It’s like pining on steroids but it’s so wonderful. I wish I could pull out one thing that I loved in particular in this story- but it’s impossible, only to say that I love that I could disappear completely within the confines of ‘my love is a life taker’ knowing that I would be kept safe by the author, that goodness prevails.


when I’m oceans away by @neapeaikea (28,000) this is a post-2008 shed canon-divergent AU where Alex Manes, after the best/worst night of his life bolts from Roswell and leaves Michael behind. 10 years later, on the hunt for a child conceived at Caulfield, Michael walks into a youth home in California and finds Alex. A few things, I love that this author writes an Alex who didn’t join the Air Force but still lost a leg, I don’t really enjoy disability erasure in modern AUs (I’m better at looking past that in historical or sci fi aus) . It’s pretty clear after five minutes that the connection between the two men is still there and strong despite anger, secrets and guilt. The teasing and flirting between them is great but so is the acceptance of baring their vulnerabilities. I loved the care they take with each other, and the tie in to an alien child is just so perfect.

Crucibles (series) @ninswhimsy (9,000)- I’m cheating and naming both here, but obviously nin had her finger on the pulse of fandom, by writing crusade-set queer stories before The Old Guard ever boomed into a fandom from the movie. I was lucky enough to trade DMs over the ideas of holiness and the body, and how Alex would have treated himself, certain of his doomed soul, and how Michael would have responded in turn. It’s no secret I love everything Nin writes, but this series stuck in my mind. I will be drifting off to sleep, and think about Alex walking through the ancient city of Aleppo, ready to be done with his burden and Michael there with soft palms and scented oil, and boom! I reach for my kindle to re-read it.

no regrets if we walk this new road by @andrea-lyn (97,000) This author has written so many amazing AUs, some quite far away from canon events like her Mummy AU or her Avengers AU, but I have to say, I have a very soft-spot for this rewrite of season 1 for a lot of reasons. I mean, it’s 2020, so my appetite for Cop!Max is definitely at an all-time low, so the idea of exchanging his job with Kyle’s was extremely appealing. At least Kyle is a POC holding the badge, not a white man like our canon. Anyway, politics aside, this story is special to me for the scorching good Isobel/Kyle relationship that develops, the way Isobel sharpens herself into a lawyer (not an event planner) and how Michael rounds his own edges off in turn by becoming a teacher (and being secretly married).  Each deviation from canon made complete sense once you alter the way Rosa’s death affects the pod squad, and how they covered it up ripples out toward Liz, Kyle, etc. 


Layer on layer, down on down by @dotsayers (9,440) I love sci-fi tropes, especially time-loops, but they are incredibly hard to write (I know, I abandoned mine a while ago) so this story stands out because of just how well done the execution is and also the angst. Michael in a time loop about Caulfield, like how great/agonizing is that? The plot is so good, how it ties into Caulfield and why it happens in the first place, like wow.  The care, and the hurt, and the fatigue that Michael has in this story, oh you just want to wrap him in a blanket. There’s a tiny throwaway line about how one of the first things Michael learned to do in foster care was to make himself heavy and unmovable- and you instantly picture kid!Michael not wanting to be removed from a house - like my heart broke! The structure of the story, with the background of his just how much he loves Alex but how badly it hurts to see him die, really makes this study of 1x12 special. Along with all the angst, there’s tiny gallows humor lines, so am I weird, that I laughed through a couple of these scenes even as Michael kept dying?

Petty pace by @aewriting (11,600) Aewriting has a couple of stellar AUs, so trying to pick just one was difficult, but I rather feel this story is sadly underappreciated it (mind the tags). It was a remix of @iwontbeyourmedicine ‘s fantastic ‘Freaky Friday’, where the humans and aliens swap roles. Alex in the role of Michael basically was something I had never pictured until Ly wrote that story, and now feel utterly changed by it, especially with this backstory- the idea of Jesse Manes bringing a foster child home? Incredibly well done because there’s an off the charts level of menace in this story. The way Jesse watches Alex, who at first mistakes it for how a pedophile might size up a victim, but then catches on quickly that it’s so much worse in a lot of ways. And Alex is such a loner in the beginning, even as he reconnects with his pod siblings Liz and Maria, he’s still planning on keeping his head down and leaving Roswell far behind. Like freedom is literally the only thing he can conceive of for himself, no real dreams outside of that until Michael slips under his defenses. I probably could have saved this story for angst day- because the second half of the story, if you don’t sob while you read it, then I dunno. It’s helpful to read Ly’s story right afterward as a reminder that things do get better for Alex ten years later. In a lot of ways this story is sadder than canon (though there’s no murder of Rosa/4th alien), I’m comforted that at least Alex has Liz in the aftermath, alike in heartache in a way that Michael didn’t have because of the pact he and Max made about Isobel in canon.

Unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart (24,800) Another rewrite of canon, that explores a couple of very interesting questions, like what would it look like if Michael never made it back to Roswell as a kid but met Alex by chance in 2008? Imagine the cornerstone of the Lost Decade love affair revolving around the mundane questions of a long distance relationship that wasn’t built on the pain of the shed or Rosa’s death? Marlo writes an amazing take on this, that is both real and deep with the normal couple problems, before introducing that spanner in the works of oh yeah, aliens are real. With Michael on the east coast, and Alex finishing off his service in Roswell, Project Shepherd still entangles Alex with Liz bringing him in on the secret in hopes that with his hacker skills he can track down the third alien child that Max and Iz remember so they can warn him. As interesting as the current plot was, I found myself absolutely revitted the slow piecemeal reveals that Marlo doled out about Alex and Michael’s relationship over time. (I also while rereading this recently got very nostaglic for season 1 Alex who didn’t trust Jesse as far as he could toss him.) 

Don’t Punish Me For What I Feel by @winged-fool (3,600) Tarsus IV AU - another wonderful author with a catalog of great AUs, both sci-fi and dark, and honestly it was difficult to narrow it down to one. This story, well in 2009 I was a hard core Trek movie fan, so when I saw a trek-fusion story appear, I knew I would love it just on that basis. The thing is, this gave me Michael as the Captain, a surprisingly rare role for these space fusions, even though genius level repeat offender Jim Kirk and genius level repeat offender Michael Guerin seems pretty married in my mind as a connection. As a Tarsus-like story, all the tags are well earned by the story that Alex finally shares with Michael. It hit on so many levels, the hurt/comfort level for sure, but also to have a story where Michael is this stalwart protector of Alex was really nice to find. 

this isn’t the ‘holiday best friends championship’ by @usbournejez (6,090) alright to leave this on a lighter note, my final AU rec is this masterpiece by Kieran that was part of Malex Secret Santa gift fics- and what a gift it was to all of us! The way she writes established Malex is first-rate, because she always includes their canon-levels of snark/sharpness but it’s never directed at each other and that’s something I love. Here we have Alex, where we learn in just a few short lines, is a huge control freak but has the extremely big emotional handicap, and that’s his love/fondness/deserve to caretake Michael. Emotional cactus Alex who is soft for Michael? Love it. There are small drops of angsty backstory peppered in this, but really that just fuels just how sweet and wonderful the main theme of the story- which is Alex might hate the whole world at large, he loves, protects and worships Michael (and vice versa). As someone who can bake cookies, but that’s about it, I was still enthralled with the baking details and this story has never failed to encourage me to eat dessert before dinner basically. 

#rnmcreate2020 #malex fic #roswell new mexico #malex fic rec #malex #MALEX FEELS #michael guerin #alex manes #fandom positivity #worship our great authors in this fandom #can we pretend it's Wednesday? #a day late and a dollar short #working on today's now!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #423

“i won’t think about you when i’m older  /  ‘cuz we never really had our closure”

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets? Neither. Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? No. Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? My late grandmother's husband stayed overnight when he was driving from New York to Florida or the other way around, idr. How many long term relationships have you been in? Two. Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on? My snake's heat lamp stays on. Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done? My dad. Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? I don't think I've even heard one of her songs. Do you know your blood type? A-. Do you know your mother’s birthday? Yes. Have you got your period at the moment? I haven't had my period since I started TMS. It's honestly so fucking frustrating that it obviously had an effect on my body, but not my depression. I've officially finished TMS as of a few days ago and now I just feel so void of hope. Have you ever been pregnant? No. How old were you when you first went on a plane? Idr, I was a little kid. Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything? Not me personally, but my parents have for my education that I threw away. Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yes. I don't see my dad a lot, but he's still in my life regardless. When was the last time you went apple picking? I’ve never been. Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? Happiness. Have you ever been drunk at school or work? I have not. How many bedrooms are in your house? Three. Are you smart about computers? Not really, no. Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii? Yes. My sister loved them, so we have a few. Do you own a Xbox 360? No. I'm a PlayStation girl. Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars? No. I'd be mortified. So, do you need a nap? I really should take one. I slept like... maybe three hours last night. I was up most of the night having a fucking life crisis. What would you rather be doing? Something fun. What sport are you the best at? I haven't touched any sort of sport since I was a teenager. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Do you complain a lot? Kind of, but I generally try to keep it in surveys nowadays. I'm just tired of shit. Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple? Ohhh, tough pick, but I've gotta say the ancient temple. Do you like fruity or minty gum? Both, really. Are you looking forward to any day of this month? Well July is practically over, so I'll answer for August. I'm looking forward to my nephew's birthday. Have you ever gotten detention? A few times for getting too many morning tardies in high school. Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life? Definitely. Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently? Powerwolf did recently. Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? I could write a college-length essay on why meerkats do not make good pets whatsoever. Do fucking not get one. I can barely fathom how it's legal in some countries. Ever cried so much you threw up? No, but I've gagged. Who is your best guy friend? Girt. What do you two do when you hang out? Mostly just watch TV and play board games. What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving? I dunno, really. Do you even like horror movies? I love horror movies. Do you live in the country? I wish I still did. :/ Me and Mom hate hate hate living in these suburbs. What is your favorite accent? British. Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No. Do you drink Pepsi or Coke? Coke. Pepsi is gross. What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday? I was literally in the psych hospital for my 21st birthday lmao. It's kind of a painful memory, but I also won't forget the love and kindness people showed me. I especially remember the friend I made there getting the lunch lady to literally go and buy me a slice of cake. Everyone also sang happy birthday to me and gaaaah I'm getting emotional. Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? That was my dad's drink of choice when he drank. Do you take a lot of pictures? Unless I have my camera and am somewhere pretty, no. What kind of face wash do you use? Water, lol. Does drama always seem to follow you? Nah. Does anybody in your family race? No. Are you closer to your mom or dad? My mom. How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?” Uhhh... I want to say $2 or something? I might be way off, idr. How long do you want to live with your parents? I WISH I could have moved out with an s/o already, but that's just not how life's worked out. Do you have a laptop or desktop? I have a laptop. Do you like your parents? I love them. Do you secretly like someone? It's not a secret, no. Would you ever date your best male friend? Tried that once and it didn't work out. I liked him more as like a brother. What are you currently listening to? "Better Than Me" by Hinder. I really need to turn it off, but I can't make myself. Do you want to be single? I really wish I had a partner to love and motivate me to strive to do better, but I know it's better I'm single right now. I'd just relive the Jason situation, I'm sure. I'd just drag the person down and lose them. Did you go out or stay in last night? I'm almost always at my fucking house not doing shit, so. Have you pretended to like someone? No, that sounds pretty stupid... How is your heart lately? Hurting. A lot. Are you wearing socks? I hate wearing socks and I'm in bed anyway, so no. What do people call you? Britt, mostly. Do you get stressed out easily? VERY. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No. What is wrong with you right now? Where the hell to begin. Do you own something from Hot Topic? A lot. Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? With someone, so long as the bed is big enough to comfortably fit two of us. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No. I'm certain he wants nothing to do with me. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Sadly. Did you get any compliments today? Definitely not. I look and feel like a wreck right about now. There's nothing to praise me about. Have you ever gone to a beach? Many times. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Unless it was an edible, no. I'd do almost anything to try and make me feel better right now, even if just for a little while, but I'm unwilling to smoke anything. Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? HELL no. Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to? Honestly, no. Do you have long nails? No; I never do because I have an awful habit of picking at them. Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. Do you generally look nice in photos? HA. Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet? No. What colour are your father’s eyes? They're dark brown. If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? Ozzy, duh. Name three facts about your family? We're very, very spread out geographically, some of us (in other words, me) are emotionally distant, and uh... idk. Would you ever get into a long distance relationship? Only if it was a certain person, our lives were more on track, and we were making plans for either of us to move soon. What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? Probably this really long letter my mom wrote for me on my bday a couple years ago. What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? I played the flute for many years, all through middle school and through much of high school. Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents? Carve pumpkins, for sure. Do you think you’re important? I don't fucking know. Probably not. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Idk. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? *hands over thick book* Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. My hands are way, way too shaky to ever accomplish that. Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. What was the first thing you ate today? Well, I was seriously depression-eating last night, way past midnight, and had a peanut butter sandwich. If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like? LET'S NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT RIGHT NOW. If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out? "Falling apart." I've lost direction, motivation, strength, hope, just everything. What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do? I need a fucking shower so bad that it's embarrassing. I just can't move. I have no energy, emotionally or physically. I just can't make myself do it. Is there anything that you wish you could take back? So, so badly. What, in your mind, could make you truly happy? Actually reaching goals. Losing weight. Healing my legs. Knowing with certainty that I wasn't emotionally abusive to Jason. Moving out of this town and back into the country. Financial stability. A job I thoroughly enjoy. I could go on, but let's not. If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference? God, let me take back shit I said in that fucking letter to you-know-who. It's so hard to believe I once thought it perfectly justified and realistic. When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I don't have any plans of changing the style in the foreseeable future. I want to color it BADLY. To just SOMETHING. Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow? I'm like, a lightning-fast typist. Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’ No; my best friend in HS was, though. Her GPA was fucking insane. I was in the top percentile, though, so I was up there. What the hell happened to that girl. How many drugs are in your system? If we're including prescriptions, a whole hell of a lot. What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Jack shit. Like usual. Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body? No. Do you call anyone baby? Excluding my pets, no. What’s your current mood? lol if you've gotten this far reading, you can make an educated guess. Do you think you are a good person? Bro I just don't know. What were you doing before filling out this survey? I was playing WoW. How late did you stay up last night? Like, 4:30 or so. When was the last time you cried really hard? I wanna say like a week ago? Is your hair longer than your shoulders? No. It still badly needs a trim, though.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''better than me'' by hinder