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theladyismyshepard · 3 years

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2 of prompt hope? The brunette Cassandra has a maiden for a pet for now, But another maiden is in love with her?? inspired by robyn dancing on my own. Angst? Good ending or however you end it?

I love that song 😍 I totally got you, my friend, thank you for the prompt!

Warning: sex, blood, violence, honestly, 18+ only

So Far Away, But Still So Near

There were three things that were common knowledge to those who lasted more than a few weeks as a maid within Castle Dimitrescu (there weren’t many familiar faces however).

One was that the hallways of the castle echoed with the wails of the dying, and it was to be none of their business to be snooping into... There was a maid who panicked when she heard screaming for the first time, and it wasn’t moments later that hers mixed melodically with the next.

Second, a maid is not allowed to make a single mistake in their duties, or in the presence of the Dimitrescu family. The maid who made the mistake of opening up the curtains a mere peek was dragged down to the cellar, never to be seen again.

And lastly... you were the only maiden allowed to live a trapped life above the cellar where men and young women stuttered out their last breathes before becoming a constant drip that always sent you to your initial awakening inside a cage that was seeping blood from every corner.

When you had blinked slowly, allowing your eyes time to adjust to lantern light, you caught sight of a smile so twisted, you couldn’t say for sure it wasn’t a frown. There was blood that painted those lips, red and shining in the dancing light. Golden eyes glowed as they bore into you with such intensity, you thought for sure she would eat you alive.

Brown hair cascaded down to her chest, and it was wild and untamed. If she looked as unkempt as she was, you briefly wondered how bad your appearance must look, subconsciously reaching up to run your fingers through greasy locks of hair, grimacing when they snagged on a tangle.

You became acutely aware that your clothes had been changed for you. Gone were your regular clothes, and in their place was nothing more than a silk nightgown, even your underwear had been stolen right off your body. You felt exposed under her gaze.

“You smell irresistible,” she whispered, her fingers tight around the bars of your cage.

Fear plagued you, prompting your heart to stutter in your chest. It brought a laugh from the brunette, and a shiver went through you that you couldn’t fully comprehend. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly smirked, teeth on display. Some looked sharp enough to kill... the teeth of a predator.

“You’re quite a beauty, aren’t you?” she drawled lecherously, her eyes roaming your nearly exposed body.

“Have you seen yourself?” you went for flattery at this point, and you knew you chose the right route when her face went slack for a moment before bursting out into a laugh.

“And a charmer, too?”

The door to your cage opened, her eyes never leaving you. She slowly swayed her hips alluringly with every step she took towards you, her smirk unwavering. She had you cornered and fearful as she stood over you, a sickle in hand. What was she planning to do?

You felt a sharp stinging as you felt your flesh tear suddenly. The cool touch of metal pressed against the cut on your lower thigh, and you grimaced when you felt grime dig into your skin. Blood coated the blade of her sickle, and she withdrew before bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, and she slowly dragged her tongue along the length of the blade, her eyes staring into yours.

“By far my favorite delicacy,” she moaned, her eyes darkening to nearly black.

You had felt something stirring in the pit of your stomach as warmth flooded your core at the sound that came from her mouth. She sniffed audibly, an eyebrow arched in interest at your reaction.

“My, oh my, you continue to intrigue me.” she turned her chin up, examining you in a way that felt as though she were looking down on you. “Here you are, trapped alone in blood and darkness and yet... I can smell your need.”

You felt a streak of defiance rush through your chest, but you bit your tongue, knowing you’d lose the war trying to win a battle. She had complimented you in a couple ways, but what she hasn’t shown appreciation for was your brain and wits.

“You intrigue me as well.” you admitted, confused by it.

The brunette chuckled wickedly, almost entertained, and you supposed it was in your favor to be capable of entertaining her. When her shoulders had stopped shaking and she ogled you once again, you hoped the gleam in her eye was a good thing.

“My name is Cassandra... I will give you time... and I will show you why that is a very bad idea.”

You blinked the memory away as you always did. That was nearly a year ago, and you would stride every day to prove your worth within the castle, knowing your virginity tethered you to a life of uncertainty as you lived among those who preyed on innocence.

To this day, you still didn’t know what kept you alive and working as a maid for the Dimitrescu family. You could tell Cassandra’s sisters weren’t overly thrilled with having something so tempting wandering within the walls, just within reach, and being unable to defile... What had you the most unsure was the tension between Cassandra and her gigantic mother.

Lady Dimitrescu would always inhale deeply when you leaned in to pour their wine during dinner. What keeps me alive? You couldn’t answer, and you weren’t sure who could. You had originally thought it was Cassandra’s influence and interest in you seeing as she had helped you out of the cellar, but she hardly looked at you when you waited on their every want and need.

The only thing you could say for her was that she didn’t snap at you like she violently did with the other maids, or even with her own sisters when one was pushed too far. She never said please or thank you, but her requests weren’t as sharp as they could be, which were few and far between.

What really had you thinking you were going crazy was the day you stood perfectly still by the far wall along with a couple other maids, unseen but at the ready should the family have a demand, and you heard Cassandra announce that she had a new pet in the cellar. The wild giggles from her sisters and the smirk from Alcina had a spring coiling tightly in your gut, and you could’ve sworn you were familiarized with the white-hot anger surging through your chest.

You couldn’t comprehend why you felt so flustered over Cassandra having someone else holding her attention. You could hardly call it “making you feel special”, but you could’ve sworn there was something about you that got you farther than most maidens who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped within the castle.

Your hand balled into a fist and you were subconsciously wearing a deep frown. You also didn’t catch the way multicolored eyes caught the look you were sporting or the triumphant smirk that followed. All you could do was stare at your feet and hope you didn’t bring attention to yourself, that’s all any of the maids did.

“Do not neglect your pet for too long, Cassandra.” said Alcina, dabbing her chin before she arose from the table.

“I’m going, mother,” promised Cassandra, bowing her head.

You watched as the Lady seemed to escort the entire room out of the dining area. Bela silently trailed behind her mother, hardly sparing any of the servants a glance on her way out. Daniela was still nibbling on a piece of something that you did not want to think about. Her eye met yours and she smiled toothily.

“Bye bye,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You shivered and she laughed as she walked out, and that only left Cassandra. She seemed to hypnotically sway her hips with each step she took as she followed her family. Your slight daze was broken by her throaty chuckle, and you already know you’ve been caught staring.

“Another time,” came her velvety voice, and you cursed your body for reacting before your brain could. Your eyes were glued to her ass the entire time she left.

It was quite pitiful really, how she could turn you to mush with words alone, all while her chin dribbled with blood from her fresh meal; and after she just spoke of her new plaything no less. What the fuck is wrong with me? What made it worse was that Cassandra was well aware of that fact.

What had you knowing you had gone crazy was when you couldn’t help the hatred you felt towards Cassandra’s new pet that seemed to be lingering around... since when did you start referring to living as lingering?

The pet always trailed after Cassandra, clinging to her side as if she were salvation. You remember a point in time where you thought she was your salvation. You passed them in the halls together, she was seated at Cassandra’s feet during “tea time” with the family, you could hear her moaning when you would passed by Cassandra’s room.

The wide, fearful eyes of the poor, young woman made you sick when they landed on you pleadingly. Oh how you wished to be in her place and yet here she was, afraid. You felt nothing over the tears that fell from her cheeks and landed on the bruises littering her bare thighs.

You felt like a monster.

Like what everything that could make you human had been burned away with hatred and negativity and darkness. It left you a hollow shell as you lost all sense of who you used to be. You felt chewed up and spit out and forced to work with what you had left.

Why were you still alive?

It was the same question bouncing in your head every day, yet you were no closer to finding the answer now, than you were the day before. At what point do you just give up? At what point do you just accept the desolate feeling gripping you until your final breath? Would death actually be a blessing over the lack of existence in Castle Dimitrescu?

That was the real question you had unfortunately began to live by. Your perfect touch to every duty assigned to you was slacking. It was imperceptible at first to all except Cassandra, but she bit her tongue, instead, choosing to keep her eyes glued to you every time you were in close proximity.

Your change in character went unnoticed until it became very obvious. Your rapid response became slower, almost outwardly showing how much you didn’t care to be there. Your attention to detail slipped as well as you started forgetting little things here and there during your duties.

Your steadiness shook when you served them, and wouldn’t you know it, your hand finally slipped one evening when you were pouring crimson tea into Daniela’s cup. The stream hit the lip of the cup and dripped onto her robe. You barely had time to register the shriek before something sharp slashed across your face, sending you to the floor.

All you could focus on was the stinging along your cheek and the bridge of your nose. You didn’t hear four different long inhales. You didn’t hear growling. You certainly didn’t hear Cassandra jerking Daniela’s arm until she faced her and the reverberating slap that followed.

“Never touch what isn’t yours!”

You did hear that shriek, and it had you finally looking up, taking in the scene. Blood was smeared all across your palm, and it was still flowing freely down your face, into your mouth, down your chin... You felt like you were served right on a platter for them.

You just felt a small sense of relief that Lady Dimitrescu’s narrowed eyes weren’t directed at you. They were mere slits and the frown lines showed her clear distaste. Her gaze was settled on Cassandra towering over Daniela’s shocked, still-seated form. Then the Lady’s gaze shifted to Cassandra’s pet, cowering away and watching the display with fright and confusion. It wasn’t long before her eyes were glued on you, leaving you glued to the floor.

“Cassandra,” her voice was eerily calm, but anyone with the sense of hearing could detect the cold fury hidden away. “You are only allowed one.”

Your eyes cut to Cassandra in time to see the dark rage swirling in hers, and you could see how feral she was becoming. You knew she was passed the point of rationality, there was no clear and coherent thought in her head... things were about to get sloppy and you were very afraid.

So afraid that it didn’t make a lick of sense when Cassandra took her silverware and lodged it straight into her pet’s chest. The sight of the young woman gurgling and choking on her own blood had you ensnared. You couldn’t look away, your eyes wide and unblinking in shock as she slumped and gasped and cried. You didn’t even feel the ones spilling down your cheeks.

“Do not ever touch my pet again.” warned Cassandra, hissing straight at her sister before turning to you. “Come... now!”

You scrambled, forcing your paralyzed joints to move. She was already stalking out of the room, dragging you by your wrist once you were on your feet. You apologized every time you tripped or stumbled, but silenced yourself when she snapped after the fifth time.

You weren’t sure what to feel after watching her kill her pet right in front of you. Cassandra was callous and a flat out sadist, she enjoyed working the screams from her victims, but she was acting purely deranged now. You wanted to ask where she was taking you, but common sense was telling you it was to her bedroom.

And you didn’t have time to catch up mentally before you were pulled through the doorway of her room and slammed against the door when she closed it. Cassandra’s tongue was immediately drawing a line from your chin all the way up to your forehead, cleaning a trail of blood and then some, leaving you a quivering mess.

She was moaning as she buried her face in your neck, her fangs piercing into your flesh. You yelped, your body jolting back against the door. She giggled madly, and it was your turn to moan out.

“Such a delicacy,” she whispered out before switching sides and biting into the other side.

You couldn’t help but shout again, even though you were prepared for it.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m just making sure they all know who is allowed to touch you.”

She returned to suckling greedily at your blood, but her hand was trailing up your shirt until she roughly cupped your breast, her thumb rubbing small circles around your nipple. You squirmed against the door, but gasped when she scooped you up and dropped you onto her bed, her eyes alight.

“You are only allowed to follow my orders now, you will not tend to my sisters any further.” demanded Cassandra, straddling your thighs and literally tearing the maid’s uniform from your body.

“Command me, Mistress,” you moaned out, finally allowing yourself to get into what was happening, and you were rewarded for your comment by lips crashing into yours, a tongue immediately forcing its way into your mouth.

One hand returned to massaging your breast, and her mouth placed open mouthed kisses along your throat and collarbone before finally reaching your nipple, where she latched on.

You gasped, your head throwing back and your eyes slamming closed as her tongue swirled around the pink bud, sucking as roughly as she did when she fed from you. You’ve been deprived for so long that all you could do was squirm as warmth spread through your gut and dripped slickly down your thigh.

Her other hand grew tired of kneading your other nipple, and found itself teasing down your pubic bone before rubbing the same circles her tongue was drawing around your nipple with her fingers around your clit.

“Cassandra!” You groaned, your hands in her hair, keeping her where she was.

She bit down, and if she drew blood, it was licked away before you could tell. The fingers that were rubbing you were soon dipping inside, your wetness aiding her in sliding in. It was driving you crazy with sensory overload, and your hands flew to the bedsheets, gripping them tightly in your fists.

She hooked your leg around her hip to make it easier to thrust her fingers deeper inside of you. Your breath stuttered in your chest as pressure built inside of you. It started in the pit of your stomach, but warmth was spreading all throughout your body now, and she gave a few final pumps, you were coming around her, calling out her name as your body tightened and released.

She didn’t have time to let you recover before she was climbing up your body, settling herself comfortably on your face. You happily went to work on her, your tongue lashing out and licking along her clit. You didn’t give yourself time to relish in her moans before you buried your tongue deep inside of her, altering between flattening it and flicking it hard along her walls.

You felt her trembling around your tongue and it had you feeling deeply satisfied. Cassandra panted as one hand gripped the headboard, using it to help her ride your face, the other was woven into your hair, keeping you in place as well.

For all the moans you pulled from her, she came silently down your chin before sliding off, falling back onto her side beside you, head propped up on her hand, staring down at you. Now she was relishing in watching you recover from your activities. As you came down from your high, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“Why am I still alive?”

She blinked down at you, clearly not expecting that question, but she wasn’t snapping at you so you were good. She took on a thoughtful look before she smirked down at you, crawling back on top of you.

“You are still intrigued by me and fortunately for you, I am still intrigued by you.” She said in between kisses down your body.

She paused when she hovered over where you needed her most.

“I’ll warn you though... I lose interest fast.”

And continued to show just how interested she was in the now. Lucky you.

#bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters headcanons #lady dimitrescu's daughters #cassandra dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu’s daughters x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #prompt fill

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - Mabel’s Worry

Collab with @clownwry! They’ve been super sweet and very nice, and after getting inspired by this post, I decided to write a full on-fic about it... but then it spiraled out of control, so enjoy an angsty story featuring the sweater twins!

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel sat up quickly, breathing just as heavy as an Olympic runner. She shook her head to clear it and she hugged her knees in self-embarrassment. It was just a stupid nightmare. Vague, no real plot, but still carried the overall message, the fear, anxiety, and still made Mabel’s blood run cold and sweat sparkle on her forehead. She needed to calm down, get herself together. Milk. Warm milk.

And so she quietly got out of bed and left her shared attic bedroom for downstairs. Despite being gone for nine months, she still knew this dark home by heart. She could walk it blindfolded if needed, but the moonlight leaking in through the triangular windows helped her in her journey. That and a small light coming from the living room. Like a moth to a flame, Mabel sleepily dragged her socked feet to the room and peaked through the doorway, half of her face hidden by wood and shadow.

Grunkle Ford was sitting in the armchair, reading a book in the light of a lamp. Mabel’s spirit was lifted, relieved and happy to see him, but she was hesitant to bother him. He was happy with his book, she really shouldn’t bother him with her own stupid problems. She should probably just go get her drink and go to bed and leave him alone. But then Grunkle Ford’s instincts alerted him of a spy and he looked up and instantly smiled.

“Mabel,” His blissful facial expression dropped suddenly remembering that she went to bed a few hours ago and it wasn’t quite daylight yet. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

This really wasn’t like her, for words to fail leaving her mouth, for her to be silent or non-vocal. But all Mabel could do was barely step into the light, hands behind her back, and shrug with her eyes to the floor. She was silent because she was afraid of what she would say if she dared to give herself the opportunity to talk. Ford grew more concerned, but he knew what to do; he had more practice under his belt now than he did months ago. He smiled softly at his niece, closed his book and sat it on the dino skull, and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Mabel looked up and bit her lip. The dame broke over her uncle’s kindness. With watering eyes she ran into his lap and clung onto him tightly, burying her face in his chest and whimpering as tears left her eyes. Ford hugged her back tightly and petted her soft long brown hair. The girl might be thirteen, but that doesn’t mean she would stop having nightmares or no longer need comfort. Moses knows, as much as he would deny it, Ford still had nightmares and still needed reassurance. Not to mention it was well-earned after everything he and his family had been through… everything he put his family through…

Mabel was mumbling something into his maroon sweater. Ford thought it was moans, sobs, but as he listened he could actually make out words. “M’sorry… m’sorry…”

“Hey, hey.” Ford said softly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.”

“... didn’t mean t’bother you…”

“Oh,” Ford cooed as gentle as a lamb. “Oh, sweetheart, you could never bother me. Never.”

Mabel sniffed. “M’sorry.” Whether she was still sorry for bothering him or sorry for being sorry was a bit unclear, but Ford decided it didn’t matter.

“It’s alright.” Ford eased. “It’s alright, my dear.”

After a few minutes of letting Mabel cry into his chest, Ford could feel Mabel make a sharp shiver in his hold. He got a pretty good idea, and so he gently had Mabel let him go. She whimpered like a puppy denied a treat, but she watched with sparkling eyes as Ford slipped off his maroon sweater, revealing a thin long-sleeved white undershirt, and he sweetly pulled it over Mabel’s head and smiled at her. She helped him by slipping her arms into the correct holes and she grinned as she now wore Ford’s old red sweater. Nearly every day he wore a Mabel Sweater she had made for her, whether she mailed it to the Stan O’ War while they were apart, or she gave it to him in person. Only every so often did he wear his old sweater, but they were both glad he did.

Mabel allowed her head to sink deeper into the worn yarn. Her senses and lungs were drowned in Ford’s scent, which brought along happy memories and good emotions. She hugged Ford again and he happily held her, petting her hair and just being there.

A few minutes of silence passed, and Ford made a prediction that it was a good time to check on her verbally. “Feeling better? Mabel?” He looked down and Mabel was asleep, one arm still around him, one hand holding onto his undershirt. Ford chuckled warmly in his chest, slowly stood, and carried Mabel to the attic to tuck her in.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dipper, they’re ready!” Mabel called.

Dipper hurried up the stairs and ran into his shared bedroom, plopped on the beanbag, and Mabel started the call on the laptop they had on the floor between the two beds. The grunkles answered at once, sitting at the table and grinning.

“Well hey there, gremlins! How was your week?” Stan greeted.

“Pretty good, just the usual school stuff.” Dipper answered.

“Did you get the package?” Mabel asked.

Ford grinned and picked up the large sealed box and placed it on the table. “Yes, perfectly intact! We picked it up in Pevek two days ago.”

“What?! And you haven’t opened it?!”

“Oh, well we thought we should wait until…”

“You two will freeze!” Mabel shook her head and smiled. “Open it and get warm!”

Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out his pocketknife and cut the tape. “Sweetie, in the last two years we’ve been sailing you’ve sent us three trunks full of blankets, eight pairs of gloves, at least a dozen sweaters for each of us, six scarves…”

“Not that we don’t appreciate it, we always love your packages, my dear.” Ford interrupted. “But you work too hard. We’re never cold thanks to you.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Mabel said firmly.

“Oh wow! Mabel!” Ford gasped happily as he pulled out a new green sweater-vest with golden diamonds and a long-sleeved salmon button up. “This is beautiful!” Ford also pulled out a regular dark-orange turtleneck.

Stan noticed there had been two stacks of things. Ford had already taken out his stack, so the old conman grinned as he plunged his hand into the box and grabbed his new baby-blue sweater with a sailboat on it. “Sweet! And look here!” Stan pulled out another sweater, this one being a warm cream color with tiny pinetrees on the neck and wrists and waist of the sweater. “Wow, Mabel! Just when I thought your sweaters couldn’t get more impressive… this is so cool!”

Mabel blushed over the compliments. “I’m glad you like them. There’s still…”

“Oh, my dear, this must have taken you ages!” Ford pulled out one last item: a large knitted blanket to go with the others, this one made with very thick yarn that was as soft as the melody of youthful days. It was very large and could easily cover both men, and it resembled the sky perfectly, being dark blue with white specks.

“Thank you, pumpkin, this is amazing!”

Mabel grinned and said, “Just please stay warm.”

Ford smiled and nodded. “Of course we will. We’re always careful, my dear. And thanks to you I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be cold.”

Mabel wasn’t sure if she bought it, the number of times she saw their chattering teeth, tight jaws, and rosy cheeks and noses in pictures, but she decided not to fight it and she just smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are some benefits to living in the glorious year of 2014. Many different forms of communication allow people to keep in contact, no matter how far apart they are. So not only did Ford, Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, text every day and send pictures and emails, they always had their Saturday night/Sunday morning video call. Always. So, of course, Mabel and Dipper were a little concerned when no one responded to their text messages to ask if they were ready for the call.

“Hey guys! Ready?”

“Rise and shine, sleepy heads! Can’t wait to see you guys!”

“Are you guys okay? We understand if you can’t make it this week.”

“Is something wrong? We’re not mad, but could you please text us.”

“Guys, seriously, this isn’t funny…”

“If we don’t hear back from you guys I will call the FBI! The CIA!”

“You guys do know how to use your phones, right?”

“Are you guys hurt?! ARE YOU DEAD?!”

Dipper looked up from his phone and across his bedroom. Mabel was in Sweatertown on her bed, buried in her favorite nightgown. Dipper sighed and moved to sit next to her. “Mabel, it’ll be okay.”

“They’re jerks.” Mabel mumbled from within the maroon yarn.

Dipper smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll get payback when they finally answer.”

Mabel lifted her head just enough to peek at his twin. “But what if they never do…” And tears formed.

Dipper rubbed her back and said, “They will. I swear.”

But they didn’t. As time ticked from ten o’clock at night to midnight to even three o’clock in the morning, Dipper and Mabel stayed awake, waiting for a response, both of them knowing any attempt to sleep was futile. And when Mabel’s phone buzzed and rang for a video-call, they both dove and Mabel clicked the green button with a shaking hand.

~~~~~~~~

Stan gave his brother the mug of warm water. “You’re an idiot.”

Ford snorted and sipped the warm drink. “This isn’t coffee.”

“You don’t need coffee, you need to get hydrated.” Stan collapsed into the couch next to his brother. His eyes landed on the wall-clock, and he shot up quickly and ran for the bedroom. “DAMN IT!”

“What? What is it?!” Ford gasped.

“It’s Sunday!”

Ford groaned and slapped his forehead.

Stan grabbed his phone and found a dozen text messages from each kid and some missed phone calls. “Ah jeez, I know you’re wiped out, Sixer, but we gotta talk to these kids.”

“I don’t care if I’m on my deathbed, we’re calling them.” Ford hollered back as he loosened the grip of his blanket and Stan entered the room. His brother sat next to him and called Mabel’s phone.

At once Stan’s phone lit up with two distressed looking kids, both with wide eyes but missing their bedheads. “YOU’RE OKAY!” The two teenagers cried out.

Stan winced. “Kids, we’re really really sorry…”

“What happened?!” Mabel gasped. “Grunkle Ford, are you okay?! You don’t look very good, are you sick?!”

“Mabel, sweetie, I’m okay.” Ford eased. “I… erm, I fell overb-...”

“YOU FELL IN THE OCEAN?!” Mabel yelled in horror.

“Ssh, Mabel!” Dipper hissed, eyeing the door.

“Are you okay?! Are you on your way to a hospital?! Do you need anything? We can hitchhike…”

“Mabel, Mabel, please, I’m alright, Stanley’s been taking excellent care of me.” Ford said firmly. “I’m sorry we scared you, sweetie, but…”

“Well, good!” Mabel snapped, visibly angry and now full-on scolding. Stan and Ford glanced at each other nervously, getting flashbacks of scoldings from their mother. “You should be, knuckleheads! We can’t tell if you’re even still alive unless you tell us! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear?! If something happened to you… I’m glad you’re happy and doing what you love, but PLEASE don’t kill yourselves doing it!” Mabel bit her lip as she realized she was yelling, and she used the long sweater sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Aw, pumpkin, it’s okay.” Stan replied calmly. “You’ve got every right to be mad at us. I’m sorry, I should have at least texted you. But I honestly didn’t cuz I was busy keeping this dork alive.” Stan teased, elbowing Ford and making him smile. “So, yeah, that was really scary and that wasn’t fair, but he’s gonna be just fine and we’re both okay and you know that now. Right?”

Mabel held her knees and sunk her face into Ford’s old sweater, only her eyes and the top half of her face visible now, but she wasn’t looking at them. “Yeah… Yeah, okay…”

“Mabel,” Ford said firmly. “Mabel, look at me.” He waited until her eyes were on him, and he smiled softly and said, “We’re okay. I promise, we’re both okay.”

Mabel couldn’t help but return the smile. “Okay… okay…” She sniffed and lifted her head a little, but her chin was still happily buried in red yarn. “So, tell us what happened? Was it the Kraken again?”

Stan grinned at the opportunity for a story, and the kids happily sat and listened.

~~~~~~~~~~

Almost fifteen-years-old. Dipper should know better than to run off into the woods after a dangerous anomaly, but he did it anyway. Mabel stayed home to make sure the monster didn’t come back, and was soon reunited with her boys as they arrived, breathing heavily. Dipper was okay for the most part. His arm was hurt and he had a black eye, but he was okay, and their grunkles were only a little scuffed and there was a leaf or two in Ford’s fluffy hair.

Mabel hurried to Dipper, but instead of hugging him like the three guessed she would, she smacked her brother over the head.

“Hey!”

“Mabel!”

“You KNUCKLEHEAD!” Mabel screamed. “Don’t you EVER do that again, you hear?! Don’t you dare! What were you thinking?! You just HAD to go after it! Couldn’t go inside like a normal person!”

“Good to see you too, sis.” Dipper muttered. “I had it under control.”

“I don’t care! What if you never came back…”

Dipper blinked and interrupted her. “Aw, Mabel, that was never gonna happen.”

Mabel bit her lip, held herself, and looked away.

“M-Mabel, I’m really sorry…”

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up first, and then we’ll talk about this, okay?” Stan eased, sensing that they needed a time-out. “C’mon, kid.”

Dipper sighed and followed Stan to the bathroom where they kept the first aid kit, leaving Ford alone with Mabel, who was well prepared to talk to her.

“Mabel, my dear, you have every right to be upset with him…”

“How could he do that?!” Mabel looked up at her uncle. “How could he think for a second it’s okay to just run off like that?!”

Ford chuckled a little to try to lighten the situation. “You know your brother. He has high ambitions and is extremely curious.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Mabel snapped. “It’s still stupid and selfish! I know he needs to do what he loves, but doesn’t he know how much I need him?! How can he just leave me behind?!”

Ford stared at Mabel. Her voice was cracking, her lip was trembling, and something in her eyes was screaming to be heard. Ford thought for a second, then dared to ask, “A-Are you talking about Stanley and I as well?”

Mabel sobbed. She yelled out in pain and collapsed on the bottom step, burning her face in her hands, and sobbed her heart out. Ford was stunned to hear her cry so hard, in so much emotional pain. She didn’t even cry this hard over any nightmares, and he had dealt with a handful of them. Poor Mabel was crying so hard and violently she gagged and retched occasionally, her body torn if she could cry or not but it was out of her control.

Ford got on his knees before her, but did not touch her. It broke his heart to see her so upset. And he and Stan had done this? Whatever it would take to fix it, he would do it. He was reluctant, but if sailing around the world with his brother was causing this much pain for their girl, then they would both agree to dock for good. “M-Mabel…”

“I understand…” Mabel mumbled through her tears and into her palms. “I understand why you had to go… why you both wanna go… b-b-but what if something happens to you?! How many times have you both gotten sick or hurt or nearly killed?! I miss you all the time and I’m always worried I’ll never see or hear from you again!”

“Oh, Mabel, sweetie…” Ford reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but Mabel threw herself into Ford’s hold and he hugged her back tightly.

“I get it… I understand why you have to go… so WHY do I still feel this way?!” Mabel sobbed, clinging onto his uncle for dear life. “I’m so angry and scared and hurt! But I don’t want you to stop, I want you to sail cuz I know it makes you happy, but I need you to be okay!”

A lot of things clicked in Ford’s brain. Why Mabel always sent packages full of warm clothes. Why she always asked what they ate. Why she always checked on them. Why she was very observant and asked if they were okay if something was slightly off. Why she easily got worried if she didn’t hear from them. And why she always hugged them like she never wanted to let them go.

Ford blinked his stiff eyes a few times and forced himself to keep it together. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. You and your brother are everything to us. I love you two more than anything. If… If sailing causes you this much distress we can…”

“NO! No no no!” Mabel screamed in horror, holding on tighter. “No, please don’t stop cuz of me! I don’t- That doesn’t matter!”

“Mabel Pines,” Ford said firmly and readjusted his hold on her so he could look her straight in the eye. “You matter.”

“I-I know. I know.” Mabel breathed. “But… please don’t stop sailing cuz of me. Please. I don’t want you to stop. But… I want you and Grunkle Stan to be okay. I… I can’t lose you…”

A large lump was in Ford’s throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it didn’t work. He compromised and took advantage of the silence. He cupped Mabel’s right cheek with his left hand and wiped some tears away with his thumb. Mabel covered his hand with hers and turned her face into his palm.

“I understand, my dear. I do. And I’m so sorry. I swear, we won’t stop sailing unless we want to. You have my word. But I also swear to you that Stanley and I won’t let anything happen. We;re too scared of losing each other to let anything happen, believe me.” Mabel moved her eyes to his. “We will always come home. I promise.”

Mabel hugged her uncle again and cried into his shoulder, leaving him to rub her back and pray she would be okay. Ford opened his eyes and caught the sight of his twin at the top of the stairs. He must have heard Mabel’s screams and come to investigate, but decided to stay out of it. But a look from Ford told Stan that Mabel needed him too, so Stan climbed down the stairs, sat behind her, and hugged them both.

#GF #gravity falls #gift #collab #ford and mabel bonding #fanfiction #clownwry #sea grunks #angst #ANGST AND FLUFF

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after-witch · 4 years

Text

Title: Oh Honey Honey ('Oh Sugar Sugar' Part 2) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Synopsis: The newest regular to frequent your little pastry shop is a little unusual, but his appreciation of your craft is a welcome distraction from the terrifying suspicion that you may have a stalker.

notes: yandere, stalker behavior

You waved cheerfully at a little boy through the glass window of your store, as his grandfather gently urged him along the street; he was maybe 2 or 3, and had practically shrieked in joy when his grandfather bought him the biggest, cutest looking cupcake you'd had in the display that morning.

With the store empty for the moment, you turned back to your daily specialty case and decided to give it a quick cleaning. A regular, the older gentlemen who'd recently revealed that all the treats were actually for an associate, was due to arrive soon, and he typically bought up most of your special case. You leaned over the front counter, grabbed a rag and a bottle of cleaning solution, and gave the glass a quick spritz. You were humming to yourself when you heard the door bells jingling.

You turned, smile ready, expecting the older gentlemen--and almost flinched in surprise. It was not your regular, but someone new. He had lanky dark hair and wore an unassuming, casual outfit consisting of a white shirt and jeans.

You swiftly stepped behind the register. “Can I help you today, sir?”

"Yes, in fact," the man said. "I'm here to give my compliments in person."

Confusion must have registered on your face, for he continued. "I normally have an associate buy my pastries for me. But I wanted to see your shop for myself, so..."

"Oh!"

You hadn't meant to say it out loud, but you couldn't help it; nor could you help the more genuine smile that you gave the man who'd bought hundreds of dollars worth of pastries in such a short time period. Baking was your passion--but it was your business, too, and you couldn't help but truly appreciate people who supported that business. "I'm so glad to finally meet you! Thank you for all your business."

You held out your hand jovially, and the man came forward to accept it with a low, firm and slightly awkward handshake. When he pulled away, he glanced at his hand for a moment, before returning his gaze back to you. You couldn't help but hope he was getting enough sleep.

"I should be thanking you," he said. "For all the pastries, I mean."

At that, you beamed. "Well! Let me show you what's in our special case today..."

You had a stalker. Well, maybe you had a stalker. You weren't quite sure. All you knew for sure was that something was... off, lately. At first, you attributed it to getting less sleep than normal. With your bakery busier than ever, thanks to your new regular and even a nice business contract supply 2 dozen breakfast muffins every morning, you weren't getting as much sleep.

So it would only be normal, you thought, to be a little on edge. A little testy. But less sleep didn't account for the odd, creeping feeling that you were being watched, especially at night. You could have swore you heard strange sounds, too... whirring or clicks. Cameras? You didn't know.

Nor did a lack of sleep account for some things that had gone missing from your apartment. A favorite nightgown you liked to sleep in; a favorite mug. the berry-red one you’d gotten two Christmases ago; even, as you discovered one morning, a lingerie set that you'd tried on once and then been too embarrassed to wear again. Still, it was expensive and the thought that someone had taken it--and why someone would take it--made you feel sick.

To say that you were not your usual chipper self for the rest of the morning was an understatement. You did your best to smile for the customers that came in, but even they must have sensed something was wrong; you even got extra tips from a regular, an elderly woman who tut-tutted you and told you that you should consider taking a weekend off.

The thought was tempting, but you knew that with running a small business came sacrifices--including the inability to just "take off." Still, you thought, you could take a little nap. A short one, 25 minutes, tops. You didn't often temporarily close up shop for breaks, but it was quiet and you weren't likely to get too many sales before the lunch rush, anyway.

As you were about to flip the sign, however, a figure suddenly walked up to the door. You jumped, then internally scolded yourself for being ridiculous--it was just your regular, or "Ahh, Mr. Regular?," as he'd awkwardly suggested you call him when you’d asked for his name. It was odd, but, the man was also downing an exceptional amount of sugar while buying up entire cases worth of your goods on the regular, so it wasn't your place to judge.

You bit your cheek to suppress a sigh of frustration and opened the door, stepping back so he could come in.

"Oh," he said, "are you closing?"

You smiled, or tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything resembling your typical sweet countenance. "No, no, I was just going to close up for a nap... I mean a break." You shook your head. You shouldn't bother customers with talks about naps, it probably made you sound lazy.

He quirked his head slightly, staring at you almost intensely. "Yes..." he said softly, almost murmuring. "I see those circles under your eyes... you haven't been sleeping well."

The personal turn of the conversation made you feel awkward. You looked away, embarrassed. You hated the idea of customers seeing you as anything other than the cheery pastry shop lady, a source of sugar and sweetness and delicious goodies. "Um," you said, "I guess not, I've just been a little, you know--out of it. You know how things go."

You laughed, mirthless and empty, and gestured towards the case. "So, anyway. I actually don't have many special pastries today, I've been a little busy." You mentally slapped yourself for giving excuses, even bland ones, though it wasn't like you were lying.

You'd woken up early so you could head into work and finish off some really nice specialty items you'd baked last night, but rummaging around your drawers for something to wear led you to realize the lingerie was missing, and you'd spent 2 hours drifting between panic and disgust.

But rather than walk towards the case and pick out today's purchases, your regular simply stood in front of you. Head slightly quirked still, eyes expressive--concerned, you thought, he looks concerned about me.

You couldn't deny that a customer worrying about you brought up conflicting emotions; frustration, because you didn't want to mess with your public persona; and a warm mixture of comfort and flattery. Someone liked your pastries enough to care about you.

"Is everything all right?" He said, finally. "Are you feeling sick? Or is something else keeping you up?"

You stared, feeling lost for words. You didn't really know him, and you hadn’t even told your friends about your potential stalker. But the weight of the past few weeks, the build-up of fear and disgust and stress, seemed to push you down until you found yourself sliding into one of your cafe chairs. He followed suit, pulling his knees up until he practically crouched on the seat.

You hesitated. Should you really be telling him any of this? “I… don’t want to bother you with any of my personal problems.”

“It’s not bothering me. I’m curious,” he said, lightly.

You sighed. Here goes, you thought. “I… I have a stalker?” Your hesitancy quickly morphed into an awkward blurting. “I mean, I think I do. I’m not sure. It’s just the past few weeks. I keep hearing these weird noises. And I feel like I’m being watched.” You bit your lip. “And someone took my underpants?”

Actually vocalizing the thought made you realize that it could just all be in your head. I mean, whirring noises? Missing lingerie? Maybe there were ants in the walls and you’d donated the set and forgot about it.

You half expected him to look embarrassed and give an excuse to leave. But instead, he looked thoughtfully at you. “Hmm. Have you called the police?”

It was you who felt embarrassed now. “No…” You shrugged. “I mean, what can they do, anyway? I don’t have any proof.”

He regarded you with a grim nod. “That’s true. They won’t act without evidence.” He gave a little huffy sigh of his own. “Well… if it were up to me, I’d do a stake out. See if anyone comes into your place at night. I could get some equipment, if you want.”

You smiled--subtle and soft, but a genuine smile. At least he didn’t think you were crazy. At least he validated your feelings. And he’d offered to help, even if you would never feel comfortable taking him up on that offer.

“I appreciate it,” you said. “But maybe I’m just being paranoid. I don’t want to drag you into all this…” You sat up straighter and decided to change the subject--you’d had enough worrying about a stalker for one day. “Say, do you want to see the kitchen? I need to finish up a cake I started last night, for the special case. Maybe you can pick out the fruit toppings?”

For a moment, your regular looked shocked. He nodded, slowly. His expression never quite fully recovered its normal neutrality, and he stood up almost cautiously before following your lead into the open kitchen door accessed from behind the counter.

“Sorry for the mess,” you say lightly. “I didn’t have time to start dishes yet.” You gestured towards a countertop where a small cake stuffed with mascarpone and nestled within a layer of marzipan sat. There were little dollops of cream forming a circle on the top of the cake. “I’m going to top it with some fruits, why don’t you pick out which ones you like?” You covered your mouth, suddenly. “I mean--if you want to buy it, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He cleared his throat and a small smile flickered across his lips. “Of course I’ll buy it. Your cakes are delicious.”

You laughed a little, showing your teeth, and took out some little jars of fresh fruits from a small fridge underneath the counter. As he looked over them, you turned and began tossing a few empty pots, pans and stirrers into the sink so that they could soak. You couldn’t help but hum a little, used to singing while you clean.

“Yes, I’ve decided,” he said suddenly. You turned around and saw him staring right at you.

“Decided?” You asked. Something about the way he was looking at you felt familiar. You thought about whirring.

“On strawberries,” he replied. He slowly held up the bowl of freshly cut, ripe red berries. “For my cake.”

L sat, crouched on the couch, staring at the video he’d taken of today’s events. You confided in him, which was delightful. You’d smiled at him, which was even better. Watching you put the glorious finishing touches on a scrumptious pastry in the kitchen was just... well. Icing on the cake.

He pressed a button on the controller and rewound the video to the moment where you'd laughed, light and airy and perfectly melodious to his ears. Your smile was genuine, then--not the constrained smile you'd given when he'd interrupted your nap plans; nor was it the sometimes plastic smile you wore when you were clearly exhausted with giving endlessly bright customer service.

Your real smile was something to be treasured. Especially, he thought to himself, because it will be a long while before he sees it again. You won’t be smiling much after he kidnaps you--after he acquires you, he corrected himself.

According to his calculations, you won't start feeling more accepting of your situation for at least a few months, but it may be sooner (or later) depending on certain variables. You will be scared first, he knew--scared and maybe angry with him for deceiving you and trapping you. And that wouldn’t be very conducive to the smile and laughter he’d quickly become addicted to taking in.

He lifted up your favorite mug and took a sip of the warm coffee inside, relishing the last bits of your lipstick left on the rim, before rewinding the video to watch you again. Time will heal your wounds--but in the mean time, he will be so very generous and patient with you.

#yandere death note #yandere #yandere l lawliet #death note #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes #can you guess the name of part 3

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suzuki-violin-school · 4 years

Text

Comforting - Katsuki Bakugo

Club Venus prompts 22 and 34: “Well? Are you gonna say something?” “That’s my shirt.”

Masterlist

Content: fluff, shirtless Bakugo, playful teasing, fem!reader

“I still think the only solution to any problem is running away to a forest, laying down, and letting the earth swallow you whole and digest you into tree food.”

Mina laughed, dropping a chip on the floor and making Ochaco laugh along with her.

Girls night. Gossip night.

A favorite of the girls’.

“So, Ochaco,” Mina started, mischief clear in her voice. Y/n giggled at the sheer implications of what she’d say next. “How’s that hm hm hm hm ‘thing’ going with Midoriya?”

Ochaco blushed a new red color into existence, hands covering her face, making her friends laugh.

“Guys, guys, don’t laugh at her!” Momo scolded playfully, smacking Mina’s shoulder.

“Th-Things are fine,” Ochaco stuttered, clearing her throat and attempting to cool her hot face. “Nothing’s really happening…”

“Oh, foo!” Mina whined.

“What about you, Mina?” Toru asked, giggling. “Anything fun happening in your life?”

Mina sighed sadly, shaking her head.

“What about you, Y/n?” Jirou asked, leaning her elbows on her knees and setting her head in her hands. “You still haven’t told us who your mystery crush is.”

Y/n grinned, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve given you enough hints!” She told them. “You should be able to figure it out by now!”

“Aw, but Y/n!” Toru whined.

“You told us he was one of the competitive ones, but that doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Tsu said. “Ribbit.”

“Didn’t you also say he-”

“That’s my shirt.”

All the girls looked up suddenly, turning to see that Bakugo had just entered the dorm commonspace where they were hanging out. He was shirtless. Mina stuck out her tongue.

“You’re not allowed to be here!” She teased. Bakugo just scowled.

“Well? Are you gonna say something?” He asked expectantly, his glare boring holes right through Y/n’s head.

“...What?”

“I said you’re wearing my shirt, dumbass!” Bakugo said loudly. Y/n looked down at the top she was wearing.

Sure, it was big, but it was comfy. But she’d found it in her closet- Well, her messy pile of clothes.

“I’m not,” Y/n defended, crossing her arms and groping her own sleeves. “This was in my laundry basket when I took it up to my room.”

Bakugo scoffed.

“Yeah? Then why doesn’t it fit you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “You sure you didn’t just steal it from my laundry?”

Toru and Mina laughed, Ochaco chuckling and nervously wiping her brow.

“Are you sure you didn’t plant it in mine?” Y/n challenged.

The offended, angry retort they’d all expected never came. Rather, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and kicked at the floor, looking anywhere except at the girls. Mina gasped excitedly before he could even speak.

“Oh my god!” She cried excitedly. “You totally did! Ohmigosh, that’s so cute!”

“Shut up, you pink monstrosity!” Bakugo yelled, suddenly back to his normal self.

“But you’re blushing,” Tsu pointed out simply. “That’s not very Bakugo of you. Ribbit.”

Jirou laughed at that one, nudging Momo with her shoulder.

“He totally likes her,” she whispered. Momo was silent for a few moments.

“Competitive,” she mumbled to herself, listing off Y/n’s hints about her mysterious love interest. “Hot-headed, loud, and one of the top students in our class…”

Toru looked at her, though no one could really tell, catching on to Momo’s train of thought.

“It’s Bakugo,” Toru said suddenly. Y/n’s attention was ripped away from Bakugo as she stared at the nightgown that indicated Toru’s presence.

And oh, was she sad to look away from that hot, toned-

“Wait, really?” Mina asked, turning towards Y/n. “Your mystery man is him?”

“Mystery man?” Bakugo repeated.

Y/n’s usually composed-yet-playful demeanor suddenly shifted as her face turned cherry red. She glanced toward Bakugo as he realized what they meant. His face suddenly matched hers; Red-hot and burning.

“I’m gonna head in for the night,” Jirou said, smiling mischievously as she stood up.

The others joined her, all of them scampering off to their rooms to give Y/n and Bakugo some privacy, though they were going to text her for details in an hour.

Bakugo walked over behind the couch Y/n was sitting on and leaned over the back next to her.

“So what if I did put that shirt in your laundry on purpose?”

“Then I’m stupid for not noticing that it smelled different,” Y/n said. “And that it was too big… And that it’s not really my style-”

“Then why are you wearing it?!”

“It’s comfy!” Y/n said defensively. She looked down in her lap and fiddled with the hem of the shirt in question. “It does feel more your style than mine.”

“Yeah, and?” Bakugo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Look, you… You’re kinda comforting. Or something. I want that shirt back once it’s as comforting as you or whatever.”

“What…?”

“I want that shirt back when it smells like you. Shut up! You just smell nice! Go die.”

#x reader #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia #fanfic #fanfiction #bakugo x reader #fluff #bnha #boku no hero academia #anime #manga #boyfriend shirt #comforting

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girlgirlgirlnormal · 3 years

Text

I want her to be mine Part 2

Kuina x OC (female OC)

word count: 3.6k

part 1

TW: Death; Niragi (Yes, I’m including Niragi as a trigger now, even though he is very ooc here and OC’s best friend); harrasment, sexual harrasment mention, bullying, gun play

The next morning Ino woke up before sunrise, Niragi was still sleeping as she got out of the bed. She slipped out of her nightgown and put on a nice red bikini and her shorts. She wouldn’t wear a shirt today. She wanted to show some skin for Kuina. She strapped on her thighholster with the knive and her hipholster with her handguns and quickly brushed through her hair.

She took the elevator to Kuinas floor and silently entered her room. The girl was still sleeping. She looked so pretty and peaceful. For a moment she considered letting her sleep, then she shrugged her shoulders and ripped open the curtains. Kuina groaned, pulling the covers over her head, making Ino chuckle. Kuina tensed up. Slowly uncovering her head and turning to Ino.

“What the fuck”, she whispered, sitting up.

“I told you I will find you”, Ino said laughing, “The early bird catches the worm, and you my pretty little princess”, she walked up to the bed cupping Kuinas cheek, “are the worm.”

Kuina looked up to her with shock widened eyes.

“Come on, princess. Get dressed”, Ino said, “I have plans for us.”

She waited infront of the door as Kuina was getting dressed. It didn’t take long for Kuina to step out of the room, dressed in her blue bikini.

“Great”, Ino said, taking Kuinas hand, and leading her to the elevator, “So, this is going to be really awkward if you don’t like girls”, she said, as they got off the elevator and walked the steps up to the roof, “But I prepared us breakfast.”

The last part sounded more like a question. She had sat up a little breakfast picknick on the middle of the rooftop. It looked cosy. She had given it her best. A white blanket was laid out and she had been to the kitchen and gotten fresh fruit, cheese, and bread. A bottle of some expensive champaign was sitting in the middle and she had even found two flutes.

Kuina observed the scene infront of her, then she turned to Ino.

“Why?”, she asked.

Ino shrugged, “You’re pretty. You seem intelligent. I like looking at you.”

Kuinas mouth was slightly open.

“What?”, she asked, with a confused look on her face.

“Oh”, Ino said, “You don’t like girls?”

“I do”, Kuina answered, still looking confused, “But why did you do this?”, she pointed to the blanket.

“I just said I like looking at you”, Ino answered, walking over to the blanket and sitting down.

“So, this is a date?”, Kuina asked surprised, taking a step towards the blanket, “I thought you’re with Niragi? Or that he at least kills everyone you dance with for some other reason.”

“He is my best friend”, Ino clarified, “and he has graciously agreed to let you live if you ever”, she paused a moment, “danced with me.”

“Glad to know that my live is not on the line”, Kuina laughed, sitting down on the blanket, “You’re not so bad to look at yourself.”

Ino smiled, filling the flutes with champagne and dropping a single strawberry in each before handing one to Kuina. She took the flute, her gaze fixated on Inos guns. Realizing that the guns were making Kuina uncomfortable she slowly unbuckled her holster and put it down infront of Kuina.

“You don’t have to be here if you’re uncomfortable”, she explained slowly, “If you stay, you can keep the guns as long as you’re here. I just want to talk to you.”

“About what?”, Kuina asked, slowly taking a sip of her champagne.

“I don’t know. I’m just assuming that I will like listening to you talking just as much as I like looking at you.”

Kuina smiled, “Is this me paying you back for yesterday?”, she asked.

“Yes, but you don’t need to stay”, Ino said, not wanting to gaslight her into having breakfast with her, “If you want to leave; I will count the debt as paid.”

Kuina took a slice of bread and a piece of cheese, “This looks good.”, she said, taking a bite of the cheese.

“I’m sorry that it isn’t a more traditional breakfast”, Ino apologized, “I don’t like eating hot stuff on warm days and it wouldn’t have paired well with the champagne. I really did my best to find this champagne – it was my parents favorite.”

“Its good”, Kuina said, taking another sip and examining the bottle, “looks expensive.”

“Thank god for the apocalypse. I didn’t have to pay for it”, Ino laughed, picking up a raspberry and popping it in her mouth.

“Do you miss your parents?”, Kuina asked, watching the bubbles in her champagne float up.

“Of course. We were”, she stopped, correcting herself, “are very close. This little bird never really left the nest”, she laughed, “I lived just around the corner from them after moving out and even worked at my father’s firm. We were basically together all day. It’s weird not to have them around all the time. That’s why Niragi is always with me. He is the only one who I know I can trust.”

Kuina was swirling her drink around in the flute, still watching the bubbles, “This has great bubbles”, she mumbled.

“Do you miss your parents?”

Kuina halted, “I miss my mother”, she answered, “She is in the hospital and needs my help to even relieve herself. That’s why I need to get back to the real world as soon as possible.”

Looking at her number, she sighed, “11 is not that far away, I guess”, she said, looking down at her own number, she was the number five. Five was better than eleven.

“What about your father?”, she asked, after a moment of silence.

“We don’t really talk”, Kuina answered, focusing back on her bread, “That’s nice bread.”

“I made it”, Ino said smiling, “I got up very early and I thought a breakfast at 4 in the morning would be overkill.”

“Wow, you really are an early bird”, Kuina laughed, “Do you always wake up so early?”

“No, I guess I was just a bit nervous.”

They went silent for a moment.

“How did you get the scar?”, Kuina asked one hand slowly extending her hand to her cheek before stopping, leaving her hand hanging in the air.

It was Inos turn to tense up. Her hand instinctively went to her collarbone where the scar was the reddest and thickest. It was a mess. She hated it. She hated it. She hated it. Grabbing her holsterbelt she stood up.

“Was nice talking to you”, she said, walking to the staircase.

“What?”, Kuina groaned, “No.”

Ino stopped, “No?”

“We’ll talk about something else”, Kuina said, “just don’t run away.”

“I was not running away”, Ino said one hand on the handle to the door.

“I think you are”, Kuina said, standing up and walking over to the other woman, “You don’t have to talk about it. Let’s talk about something else. How did you make this bread?”

“I made it according to my favorite recipe. It’s a wonder that I still remember it”, Ino laughed, “It’s a pretty easy recipe.”

Kuina was just about to open her mouth to praise the bread, as the door opened and Niragi stepped out on the roof.

He was casually lighting a cigarette, his gaze lazily taking in the two girls sitting on the blanket.

“You really are trying, huh?”, he asked, plopping down next to Ino and taking her champagne and gulping it all down.

“Hey”, Ino said, playfully hitting his arm, “That was mine.”

He didn’t react to that, he was watching Kuina. Inos guns were laid out infront of Kuina and the girl looked distraught.

“I wouldn’t have thought that that is your type”, he said, still watching Kuina, “I thought the kind of girl you like was more like Chrissy. She and Chrissy have nothing in common.”

“They’re both pretty and I think Kuina would not have a problem with hitting you if you’re being mean, just like Chrissy did”, Ino said, smiling at the thought of her ex-girlfriend.

“Who is Chrissy?”, Kuina asked.

“A total bimbo”, Niragi answered, “and her ex.”

“She is a bimbo who used her social media following to talk about misogyny, anti-capitalism and loving yourself”, Ino explained, “We broke up a year ago, I don’t know why Niragi is bringing her up now.”

“She is the last girl you dated”, Niragi shrugged, “and it has been all dicks before and after. I don’t have any other girls to compare her to. I really liked Chrissy.”

“Then don’t”, Ino said, shrugging, “Also, Chrissy would’ve punched you for comparing people the way you do.”

Rolling his eyes Niragi took a piece of bread and some butter. Ino grabbed his rifle, putting it on top of her own guns. Niragi groaned but didn’t say anything.

“Sooo”, Ino said, “Kuina, do you want to explore New Tokyo later?”

“I already have plans with Chishiya, maybe sometime else?”, Kuina hadn’t had a bite since Niragi arrived, she was just sitting there, watching them tensely.

Niragi scoffed, but Ino started talking before he had the chance to say something, “Sure, let me know whenever.”

“We don’t have time for that anyway”, Niragi said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pants pocket, “Aguni is sending us out to the city.”

Ino grabbed the paper and unfolded it. It was a list of things they needed. Mostly medicine and food.

“We should go to the company, we have most of the medical stuff there and I don’t believe anyone could’ve scavenged that”, Ino said, “Kuina, it was really nice to talk to you. Feel free to approach me anytime you want.”

With that she stood up, grabbed her holster and disappeared through the door. Sneaking another piece of bread Niragi followed her.

“Did you have to barge in like that?”, she asked Niragi, as he finally appeared next to her in the elevator, “I was trying to get to know her.”

“She is no Chrissy”, Niragi commented.

“Nobody is Chrissy. That doesn’t mean that Kuina is not just as nice and worth of loving.”

“You don’t know her.”

“That’s why I was trying to get to know her!”

They had arrived at her father’s old company. A tall glass building with the words Yamanaka Gaming written in bold letters over the door. Normally the words would glow, right now, without electricity it looked sad. Ino could feel a knot forming in her throat. She tried to ignore it, wrapping her arm in her jacket and punching the glass door a couple of times before it shattered into a million crystals.

“Come on”, she said, ducking into the building, “You take the infirmary on the 15th floor, I’ll go to the executive floor.”

“What do you think you’ll be able to cross off the list on the executive floor?”, Niragi asked with a grimace.

“If the beaches generators still work, that could mean that ours do too”, she announced.

“And what good will that do? Do you wan to continue making that game?”

She rolled her eyes. She had stayed awake day and night working on the game. She never got to finish it. She would never get to finish it.

“There’s some stuff I want to get”, she answered, “I`ll help you check the cafeteria after that.”

Niragi nodded. They had had personal belongings there. He and Ino and everyone in her family. He didn’t blame her that she wanted to retrieve some. He watched as she went behind the reception desk and started to fumble with something under the desk. The lights flickered on.

“See, the generator works”, she smiled, “we can even use the elevator.”

They didn’t spend much time in the company, having found the medicine, many packets of instant noodles and ramen, and some personal belongings, they left the building and drove with a fully packed car back to the beach. Ino smiled as she handed Niragi her fathers watch. It had belonged her grandfather before and she knew her parents would’ve laughed to give it to their son in law on their daughter’s wedding day. They had hoped for the longest time that Niragi would be that son in law. They had felt betrayed then they found out that Niragi would stay her best friend but neither of them was planning to marry the other.

“Really?”, he asked, taking the watch.

“It’s what they wanted”, Ino shrugged.

“Shouldn’t you give this to the love of your life?”

“You know how I feel, Niragi”, she said, watching the streets of Tokyo pass by, “I love you. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. I just don’t love you the way my parents would’ve liked me to.”

She really did love him. He was her best friend. They had been together for a decade now. If she had believed in soulmates she would be sure that he was hers. The love she was feeling was not romantic. It was just love.

“I love you too”, he said, his voice solemn, “That’s why I don’t like the idea of you being with Kuina.”

Ino groaned, “If you continue bringing up the subject, I will get really mad. We were having a good time until you arrived.”

“But don’t you need someone you can have a good time with then I am with you?”, Niragi asked, “I had to break up with that girl because you didn’t like her.”

“She was a dick”, Ino groaned.

As they finally arrived back at the beach Ino simply exited the car, without taking anything but her personal belongings. The others would help Niragi get everything else inside.

She walked straight to her room and started unpacking. She had taken some clothes, some jewelry and a picture of her family. Smiling she placed the picture frame on her nightstand and grabbed the short pink dress she had taken. Chrissy had called that her bimbo dress. Its deep carmen cut didn’t leave much to the imagination and it barely reached the middle of her thighs. She took out the makeup supplies she had taken with her. Drawing on some dramatic winged eyeliner and coloring her lips red like blood, she put her black hair in a dark ponytail, admiring herself in the mirror. She looked great. She hoped Kuina would think the same. Putting on her sneakers, she made her way to the pool. All eyes were on her. The diamonds on her neck were sparkling in the light.

It didn’t take long for her to spot Kuina. She was sitting alone, her plastic cigarette between her lips like always. Ino didn’t want to approach her. She was afraid of coming on too strong. She had told Kuina to come to her. She would wait. She didn’t want the woman to feel trapped. She walked to the bar and ordered a Zombie, her favorite cocktail.

“What’s the occasion”, she heard a voice beside her.

She turned, seeing Last Boss waiting for his drink. The tattooed man was not smiling, but she had only seen him smile then he was getting excited about killing something or someone. It was a good thing that he was not smiling.

“I’m going to get laid”, she answered, making Last Boss quirk his brow.

“By whom?”

“Don’t know. We’ll see.”

Last Boss smirked, but he didn’t say anything else, took his drink and disappeared. Ino shrugged. Seems like it wouldn’t be him who fucked her tonight. She hated being so needy, but she really needed someone to spoil her. She was already on her third drink, as her eyes landed on Kuina again. No. She would not approach her. Kuinas gaze met hers. She watched her stand up and walk in her direction. She could feel her gut clench in anticipation. She wanted to get to know her. She wanted her to not be a mere one night stand. Yet she was so needy. God. All this neediness could only mean that she would get her period soon. She had looked for her birth control pills but couldn’t find them. Her hormones would kill her.

“Hey”, Kuina greeted her, as she sat down next to Ino.

“Hey”, Ino answered, taking a long sip from her cocktail. She loved the sweet and bitter taste. Her lips were already numb. She loved it.

“Why are you dressed like this?”, Kuina asked, her eyes scanning her body.

“You don’t like it?”, Ino answered with a question.

“No, it looks great”, Kuina answered, “Its just not something that I’ve seen you wear around here before.”

Ino laughed, “I used to wear stuff like that all the time. I loved partying so much that I had this dress in my office, for the times that I spontaneously decided to go out after a long day of work. I miss that so much.”

“You can party here all day”, Kuina informed her, taking in the womans beautiful features.

“Its not the same”, Ino said, “It was so much more fun back then. If you kissed a stranger in the club you could be sure that you would never see them again. If I kiss someone out here, Niragi makes sure no one ever sees them again.”

“But I am safe?”, Kuina asked.

Ino smiled, cupping Kuinas cheek, “You are safe and free to do whatever you please.”

“Whatever I please?”, Kuina echoed.

Ino nodded, her gaze fixated on Kuinas plumb lips. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to please her and for her to please her back. Where did this obsession with Kuina even come from?

“Do you want me?”, Ino whispered, leaning in. She could smell the girl’s natural scent. She smelled sweet and spicy. She didn’t know what she was doing as her tongue dipped out of her mouth, slowly licking Kuinas jaw. She wanted her so much. Her smell was even more intoxicating then the alcohol.

“Will you be done with me if I give you what you want tonight?”, Kuinas voice was shaky.

Ino shook her head, “But I will leave you alone if you want. You don’t have to do anything. Just tell me if I’m bothering you.”

She wasn’t looking in Kuinas face, her head was still in the slightly tilted position she had taken to lick her jaw. Her smell was intoxicating. She bit her tongue to stop herself from licking her again.

“You’re not”, Kuina answered, “I just don’t understand why you are showing so much interest in me.”

“Because you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Prettier than Chrissy?”, Kuina asked.

Ino chuckled, lightly kissing her throat, “You sound like Niragi”, she laughed, “I loved Chrissy, but we broke over a year ago. She was pretty. I don’t know how I would’ve have answered if I still were in love with her. But today”, she drawled off, this time kissing her jaw, “you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”

Ino looked up, Kuina had closed her eyes. It looked like she was enjoying the small kisses. Ino kissed up her jaw up to her ear, slowly taking her earlobe between her teeth.

“Tell me if you need me to stop”, she whispered.

Kuina shuddered, “You are drunk.”

“Mhm”, Ino said, sucking Kuinas earlobe.

“I want you to stop.”

Ino straightened up, trapping her own hands between her legs so she couldn’t reach out for the pretty woman. Kuina finally opened her eyes, looking at her.

“I don’t want to be your drunk fuck”, she said, with a stern look in her eyes, “If you really think that I am that pretty, you can wait, no?”

Ino nodded, “Until you’re ready.”

Kuina put a hand on Inos knee, “Good”, she said, “I need time. There are things that you don’t know about me and I don’t do one-night stands.”

Ino nodded again. She didn’t know if it were the hormones or the alcohol, but she was feeling so overwhelmed by this woman’s beauty. She wanted to touch her. To be touched by her.

“I will do everything for you”, she blurted out, “You just need to tell me what you want.”

Cupping Inos cheek, Kuina said, “You’re drunk. You should go to your room and sleep it off.”

Ino nodded, “Will you come with me?”

Kuina shook her head, “I’ve got stuff to do. I think it would be better if you were alone.”

Ino pouted. She had just told her she would do anything for her. Anything did include going to her room alone. She balled her hands into a fist for a moment. She just wished she wasn’t so horny.

Ino stood up and turned away without looking back or saying another word, she walked up to her room. She didn’t fully close her door, but she made sure that Niragi was already sleeping in his room. Undressing she laid down on her bed, gun in one hand, the other hand playing with her breasts. A soft moan escaped her lips. She brought the gun up to her face and slowly licked the tip. She could feel herself soaking. The hand that was previously on her breast slowly dipped between her legs, as she saw a silhouette in her doorway. She moaned again. Eyes glued on the door. She felt guilty for a moment, but Kuina had only told her to go to her room alone. Not to stay there alone. She switched her hands positions, tasting herself from her fingers and shoving the gun between her legs.

“As you said you were going to get laid, I thought were would be at least one other person involved”, she heard Last Boss voice.

Giggling she brought up the gun to her face again, licking it clean, “Join me”, she said seductively, “Please?”

She didn’t have to ask twice.

#hikari kuina #kuina #alice in borderland #kuina x reader #kuina x oc #wlw #chishiya #last boss #niragi #suguru niragi #niragi x reader

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kanawolf · 2 years

Text

Dance Time (Fic for two of my Destiny OCs)

“Papa!” The bright voice of the young child rang out in the home as she rushed over to her father. Red panda plush in hand, her eyes were bright even though there was something of a plea in her pout as she stopped next to him. Holding onto two of his fingers in her small hand, Dianthe looked between her father and some stranger, her expression shifting into full pout as she tugged his hand gently. “Papa, Sir Sun says it’s dancing time. It is dancing time, right? Pretty please?”

A warm smile broke upon Apostle’s lips as he leaned down to scoop his daughter up, resting her on his hip with one arm around her so that he could gently boop her nose. “Yes, my precious flower. Sir Sun is absolutely right. Let’s be polite though and say goodbye to my friend here, and then we can go dance all right babygirl?”

Nodding vigorously enough to make her pigtails bounce, the smile on her lips dimmed a little as she looked at the stranger, though her expression remained warm and she waved, even going so far as to wave Sir Suns’ paw at him too. “Buh-bye!” Resting her head on Apostle’s shoulder, she held her stuffed animal so close that it covered part of her face as her father similarly waved before turning to walk away.

“How was your time in art class, my Flower? Did you have a good time?” He knew how much his daughter loved being able to spend time with the people she decided she liked, and art class was quickly becoming one of her favorite places to be when they weren’t home.

Perking up immediately, if it weren’t for Apostle’s knowledge of how she moved about when she was being carried she likely would have hit her head against his chin, but luckily that was avoided and she could instead ramble away. The entire walk back home, which luckily was also not a very long one, she spoke about her teacher and how much she liked painting, how she was going to paint Sir Sun but instead painted him a friend.

Once they made it back home, Apostle kissed her forehead as he set her down on her feet. “Let me get the music set up first Darling, and then we can dance. Do you want to have one of your other dresses on?” Her dance time dresses were more often than not her nightgowns as she liked to wear comfy ones considering what usually came after dance time in her own little schedule that she’d made for herself.

Following after him, she seemed to dim as she admitted, “Yes but um, I got paint on my skirt today. Is that a bad thing?”

Turning to face her, Apostle shook his head with a gentle smile. “Not at all. We’ll wash it, and if the paint doesn’t come out, then that’s all right too. Maybe this skirt will become a skirt for painting and experimentation and we’ll get you a new one.” As he watched his daughter brighten, his smile grew warmer too if that were possible. Kissing her cheek, he chuckled as Dianthe giggled and spun in a circle before running off to go put on one of her princess dresses.

Setting up the music box, he took off his shoes and coat and got a plate of snacks and a couple capri sun ready for when dance time ended and she decided she wanted to watch a movie and nap instead. Hearing her footsteps as she ran back into the room, he turned around just in time to catch her as she nearly collided with him, picking her up in a spin that made her giggle. Setting her down, Apostle turned the music box and moved further into the living room.

Immediately, Dianthe stepped up onto his feet and held onto his hands. To the sound of the music box waltz, they swayed as Apostle moved them back and forth, occasionally spinning just to hear his daughters bright giggle from where she rested her head against his thigh. To his surprise, dance time lasted longer than normal, long enough for the music box to full end the 30 or so minute song.

At the tug from her, Apostle knelt down. His heart practically melted as she wrapped her arms around his neck for a hug and a small, “Thank you Papa,” came from her.

Holding her close, he kissed her temple and murmured, “You’re welcome. Anything for you, my Precious Flower.” Staying in the moment, he only moved, to pick her up and cradle her against his chest, when she started to wiggle. “Is it time for cartoons now?” His voice was gentle as he waited for her to nod before gently setting her down on the couch and setting her favorite blanket over her. Making sure that she was holding Sir Sun close, he brought the drinks and snacks to the end table.

After he turned the cartoons on, he turned to leave as she generally liked to be alone for a little while after dance time since cartoon time was often her nap time as well. But this time Dianthe wiggled out of her blanket a little to ask him, “Papa? Do you want to watch cartoons with me?”

Barely resisting the urge to put his hand over his heart, Apostle turned to her with a smile. “I’d love to. Let me change into something more comfortable and then we can watch together.” Seeing his smile returned by her, Apostle quickly changed into some washer beaten sweatpants and a shirt before he grabbed his own drink and some snacks. Settling in next to her, he wondered if it was possible for a human heart to melt considering the surge of love through him as Dianthe shifted to move the blanket so it covered both of them before leaning against his side with Sir Sun in her arms.

#boo talks #my writing #this will eventually be posted on AO3 #my drabbles #i know it's my own writing but also #this is serotonin for me #set sort of in a modern au tbh

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artsoupsoupart · 4 years

Note

I don’t know if you’re doing prompts, but if you are.. Can you write a hicsqueak fic, please. A spell mishap of meddling young witches resulted in Cackle’s and Pentangle’s castles merging. Hecate and Pippa woke up on their now joint bed. Their wardrobe and chambers are merged too and it took them a whole week (maybe longer) to fix it and find the culprits. Thanks! Love your hicsqueak fics btw

It’s not exactly the prompt but I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long, it’s been like 3 weeks but it kinda got out of hand lol! Also: I’m not not taking prompts, but I write slow so if anyone sends one, sorry if it takes a while to get it filled!

Cacktangle’s Academy for Witchcraft and Wizardry

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27270871

“Lights out, girls,” Hecate bellows as she glides down the corridors. Around her, doors shut closed and lights turn off as young witches clad in matching pajamas scurry into their rooms from their friends’. Each one bids her goodnight (some more confidently than others), something that didn’t use to happen, and she can’t quite pinpoint when it had started. Perhaps she had gone soft in the last few years. Not that she necessarily minds. Anymore.

She’s just about finished with her rounds when one Azura Moon slips out of her door and wraps her arms around Hecate’s middle.

“Good night, Miss Hardbroom” the girl says as she smiles, as wide as she ever does. Hecate still freezes at the contact she should be used to after two years (especially because Azura takes every opportunity to hug her and for some reason she just can’t tell the girl to stop) but she does eventually return the embrace, tapping the tips of her fingers against the girl’s shoulder, silently noting not for the first time how much taller she’s gotten.

Then she’s turning the perpetually exuberant witch away from her and to her room. “Good night, Azura. And do tell Miss Jones she has precisely three seconds to return to her own room.”

Hecate doesn’t even get the opportunity to begin her countdown when the other girl pokes her head out of the room with a sigh. Azura simply continues to smile as she hugs her friend and they part ways for the night. When the door shuts behind Azura, Hecate stops and listens. With Isabella securely in her room in the Citrine hall, the castle seems quite enough. Even Mildred is tucked away in her room, though she’s not sleeping by any means. But Hecate won’t disturb the girl tonight. Not when she knows Mildred has been staying up later and later to research witching colleges (a fact that brings the older witch a bit of joy). Instead, Hecate transfers directly to her rooms for the night.

She takes extra care getting ready for bed. Her shower is hotter and filled with lavender essence. The last few showers had been quick spells after long, tiresome days and they definitely weren’t as satisfying. She chooses a softer, silkier nightgown and takes her time moisturizing. By the time she settles at her vanity to call Pippa, Hecate is relaxed and pliable and she begins brushing out her dark locks.

“Good evening, darling,” Pippa grins through the mirror when it connects. She’s already lying in bed, propped against her plethora of pillows. Her hair is slightly wavy from being freshly washed and it fans out against the pink silk, her face free of makeup and her freckles on full display. This is perhaps Hecate's favorite Pippa, relaxed and serene, unencumbered of being headmistress and modern magic activist. She’s delicate in a way that she can’t be during waking hours and Hecate feels a bit of pride at being one of few who has gotten to see her this way.

"Evening, Pippa," Hecate smirks. "You look comfortable."

The blonde snorts and launches into the events of her day. The tale is one filled with students who could stand to be more observant, mischievous fae friends, and strict council members. All things Pippa had had to deal with more or less by herself due to her deputy being otherwise preoccupied in securing more scholarships for next year.

"But that's all in the past, Hiccup. I'm already better," the blonde breathes out. "Tell me about your day, darling."

As Hecate recalls about her day, she notices the glassy, dreamy look that passes over Pippa’s eyes. That look that lets her know that while the blonde is definitely still listening, she’s daydreaming, most likely about her hair. Pippa has always been weird about Hecate’s hair. Smitten. That’s the look. Hecate now knows that she saw this look many, many times when they were teens and she’s been on the receiving end of the look more times that she can count since they’ve started dating, but it still makes her heart flutter.

“I love brushing your hair,” Pippa mumbles. It’s as if she just let out a secret as tanned cheeks blush a brilliant red and the blonde looks away from the mirror.

“Yes, I know you do,” Hecate says, as casually as she can manage.

“I would do it every night if I could,” she says, referring to brushing. It only makes Hecate smile wider and she reminds her that while that would be fantastic, they have other responsibilities that prevent that. The petulant look on Pippa’s face is almost comical as she huffs and pouts. Hecate simply placates her that she’ll be able to do so when she visits, whenever time allows. The two go on to talk in soft hushed tones as Hecate herself settles into bed for the night, falling asleep together without ending their call.

Meanwhile, back in the Ruby corridor, two very awake and very excited witches sit in front of their mirror, whispering away to their friend.

“Come on, Izzy! Think of it! Addy is going to be at Pentangle’s most of the time. And we’re going to be here. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just open our wardrobe and boom? We’re there or she’s here.”

The redhead purses her lips in thought. The Addy in questions has hope in her eyes as she holds up the spell they can do to essentially make a portal connecting the two rooms. It’s restricted use of magic but it would be nice to visit whenever they wanted. “Okay, fine! What do we do?”

So, they set to work. Addy lists off the ingredients and directions while Azura mixes them together. Izzy then takes the combination of ingredients and crawls into the wardrobe.

“We should put in a clause! That no other people here or at Pentangle’s can find the door.”

“Especially, HB.”

“Oh yeah, she’d go bats.”

So, they add a few lines to the spell and with slightly shaky hands, Izzy closes her eyes and begins the spell. Her hands trace the back panel of the closet and then she knocks three times. All three girls wait and wait and wait, confused until the light pulls at the edge and a new door forms.

“It worked! We did it!” Azura whisper-squeals before crawling through the new door.

Hecate wakes slowly as her alarm charm tings to life at 6 AM. With eyes still closed she lifts a hand to silence the charm, breathing deeply and stretching like a cat, back arched and limbs straight. And suddenly there is a set of arms and legs, warm and secure around her own body. Her eyes shoot open. She stiffens. She wants to panic immediately. A voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like a certain blonde tells her to Breathe, Hecate. Assess. Her gaze looks down to the hands now around her middle. Pink nails, tanned arms. Pippa?

“Pippa?” She questions out loud, voice still raspy from sleep. And then she turns as gently as she can. It doesn’t stop her from startling the blonde, whose hazel eyes fly open as she lets out a high-pitched squeak.

“Hiccup?!” The blonde puts a bit of space between them, chest heaving as she stares at her. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“Your bed? Pippa, you are in my bedroom.”

Pippa looks around, gathering her bearings, surprised that she is in fact not in her own bed, or even her own room. So many of her things, however, are perfectly placed. Her soft pink silk pillows differ greatly with Hecate’s deep burgundy duvet. Her creme bedside chair had made it to the room. Her favorite blanket and the plush donut Hecate won at the All Hallows’ Eve festival the year before sits on said chair. Her jewelry box and makeup reside on Hecate’s otherwise bare vanity. It’s as if she’s moved in overnight.

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither. Do. I.” Hecate’s brows are furrowed as she looks around. “But we’re going to find out.”

With that, Hecate throws on her leather robe. She pauses briefly to hand Pippa one of her others, opening the wardrobe to find it clustered with bright sky blues and soft pinks. Light washed jeans that increase to pairs of black leather are neatly hung. There’s pumps and sneakers and flip flops in just about every color. It’s as if her wardrobe has been split right down the middle, the two sides now contrasting so vibrantly. One being a rainbow of color and the other darker and subdued. Hecate’s eyes almost bulge out of her head, but Pippa silently places a hand on her shoulder as she reaches for her own robe in the wardrobe.

As a habit, Pippa slips her fingers between Hecate’s and all but drags her from the bedroom. The living space is even more spliced than the bedroom with the large windows from Pentangles’ front and center letting in the bit of sunlight that has already started to peak through the morning clouds. It stops them both in their tracks, but Hecate quickly recovers. They don’t have time to dwell on just how strange this is. They have to figure out what’s going on and fast.

They twist and turn through the castle until they reach an equally distraught Ada, who is attempting to calm a fuming Miss Tapioca, whose kitchen is now cluttered with items from the other school and arranged differently. Hecate and Pippa cautiously approach when the familiar faced teachers arrive. Dimity rounds the corner with Abigail, Pentangle’s fitness witch. Peter and Christopher, the flying instructor and librarian, arrive with Theodore Daisy and Lavinia Crotchet, Cackle's new chanting instructor. Soon the entirety of both staffs are ushered into the Teacher’s lounge, which unsurprisingly has also been combined with the one at Pentangle’s.

“Did anyone cast any renovation spells recently, any chants?” Ada asks when Hecate finally gets the room to quiet.

All the teachers shake their heads in unison.

"No, a staff member didn't do this.” Hecate says, eyes squinted in thought. “A student did. The magic, while definitely strong is highly simple and misguided." "Well then," Ada starts, "we need to find the stu-"

An eruption of chatter and a knock at the office door stops the headmistress in her tracks. Hecate flicks her wrist to reveal Mildred with the rest of the sixth years behind her. Surely the other young witches are not far away.

"Miss Cackle," Mildred stumbles inside, eyes wide and confused. "I woke up early because I just know we're going to have a pop quiz in advanced myths and legends, and I got out of bed and Melinda Merriweather from Pentangle's was in my room! And her things. Her bed, her posters, her clothing. Everything."

"Mildred Hubble," Hecate begins. The girl starts to say something, but the witch holds up her hand. "All students are to report to the field. Pentangle's and Cackle's, organized by year and name."

Mildred's mouth drops open, but she simply nods instead of rebutting. Perhaps she has learned something in her two years as head girl. Ever the lead, Mildred turns around and addresses her fellow classmates and the girls shuffle outside. It's loud and the lines will definitely not be neat, but Hecate has at least bought the two staffs a bit of time to devise a solution.

"So, the whole school has been, what? Merged?" Pippa asks.

"It would seem so." Hecate flexes her fingers in thought. "We'll have to do a thorough inspection, but with the amount of merging that seems to have happened it might take weeks to undo."

Dimity, who had been watching the girls file out to the field, adds, "It could take months."

The entire room stops. Eyes searching eyes for some type of hope that it doesn't take months to restore order.

"Well," Ada tries to smile, "Let's hope that's not the case. Now, let’s quickly find a solution for today. Those students can’t stand outside forever.”

It takes all of five minutes for the headmistresses and deputies to quickly form a plan. The students will be given a free day of no classes while the staff members catalogue the damage done, that is after they find the perpetrators. Then they’ll decide how to best proceed in educating their students. They are, after all, witching (and wizarding) academies first.

With a plan for the witches and wizards, the teachers file outside after casting freshening spells and changing their clothes. Pippa and her deputy address the Pentangle’s students and let them in on the details of what’s happening. Hecate, though, immediately turns on her strict and scary facade (though she’s quite pleased at how well the girls have followed direction. She wants to praise them, but now is not the time).

"Mildred Hubble?” She stands in front of the girl, brow raised.

“It wasn’t me, Miss Hardbroom. I promise! I haven’t caused any trouble in months. Promise!”

Hecate squints her eyes at the teenager. The deputy head scans the lines of girls, eyes blazing. Some cower, some look utterly bored. She turns to the next trio of suspicion. Beatrice, Sybil, and Clarice all shake their heads when her eyes land on them. No, not them. Hecate lifts her head, sniffing the wind as a lioness to her prey. Her feet lead her to where the third years have lined up. Head tilted; she walks the line. Walks and walks until she stops right in front of the exact girls, bending down slowly to meet them eye to eye.

“Azura Moon and Isabella Jones.”

“We’re sorry, Miss Hardbroom.” The young redhead blurts out immediately. For once, Azura, the perpetually cheerful girl, looks positively stricken with fear. “We didn’t mean to merge the booth schools. Just our doors. Like Narnia.”

“We just wanted to see Addy.” Azura interjects.

The girls talk in tandem, explaining their reasoning. Adelaide cautiously takes her place by the girls, with Pippa in tow. All the while Hecate grows more and more red, her back straightening to her tallest height.

“Silence!” She hisses as her eyes blaze into the three very shocked, very scared third years. Had this been another time, perhaps a few years ago, Hecate thinks she would simply snap. Instead, she lets the steam shoot from her ears and lets out a stiff breath. Pippa’s doing. With clipped words and fire still in her eyes, she continues. “Azura Moon. Isabella Jones. And Adelaide Peppercorn. You three will have detention every day until this is fixed.”

Azura opens her mouth to speak but thinks differently when Miss Hardbroom’s piercing cold eyes snap to her. “Get ready for the day. Breakfast will be served early, and every student must return to their newly merged room until Headmistress Cackle and Headmistress Pentangle formulate a solution. No student will be caught outside of their room without permission lest they want to join these three in detention.”

And with that, the Cackle’s witches were dismissed, shuffling away with the softest whispers. Pippa then dismisses the Pentangle’s students, who follow the others inside.

“Well, I suppose we should join the students for breakfast and then take inventory of the damage.” Ada says.

Breakfast is.... a struggle to say the least, but they manage it well enough. Miss Tapioca and Miss Cassava have their spats resulting in a mix of a meal. There’s a mix of cold oats and bright fruits. None of the dishes match, which Miss Tapioca scowls at in disgust. The now enlarged Great Hall luckily added the necessary tables and even extended the teacher’s table to sit everyone, so they’re not strapped for space. The hall is buzzing with chatter as some of the young teens fawn over being with their friends, others over the wizards they’ll be sharing space with for the foreseeable future with. (A message will have to be sent out to the parents. There will definitely be quite a few upset families). Hecate has half a mind to punish everyone and make the students eat separately and in total silence but her own thoughts of how to separate the two schools overtake disciplining at the moment.

After breakfast, the students are all sent to their rooms and the staff begins their inspection. Most of the classrooms are heavily bound together. The bedrooms too. The only rooms that can realistically be separated sooner rather than later surprisingly seem to be the storage rooms. Everything else will take at least a week, some more. Even some wards from Pentangle’s have replicated themselves at Cackle’s, making some of their own unstable. It’ll take well over a week to reverse those.

The stress of the situation radiates off the blonde, but she gives Hecate no chance to comfort her, choosing instead to fully delve into the title of headmistress. But Hecate knows it’s clawing at her to see her school not be her school. Pippa and her deputy depart soon after a plan is made to begin the separation to check on the Pentangle’s location. In the meantime, Hecate busies herself with potions needed to fix the wards.

Pippa rings about two hours later and to the untrained eye she looks reasonably and understandably stressed. But Hecate notices the red that rims her eyes, the way her mouth is down turned. There’s a brittleness to her voice. She knows Pippa won’t let it show (she never does) but the blonde is positively devastated.

“At least the young wizards’ rooms aren’t combined with the girls. It’ll be easy to get them back to Pentangle’s when the time comes.” Pippa attempts to find some silver lining of this situation before she informs them that they’re headed back. The subtle wobble in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed to Hecate. Had she had the time, she’d call her privately, let her cry and rant and feel. Instead, she has three third years in detention to attend to.

Azura, Isabella, and Adelaide arrive to the potions’ lab five minutes before Hecate. They’re seated at the cauldrons, with guilty faces. The dark witch materializes at her desk in the middle of the room, the palms of her hands planted on the spokes of her chair.

“Open your witches’ code.” She speaks lowly. Knowing this punishment will last at least a week, she’ll start their disciplining simple enough. For every code they broke, the girls will write and rewrite and rewrite line after line until it’s memorized. Then she’ll figure some other punishment, perhaps a particularly challenging potion. Either way, she’s certain they’ll never use magic so recklessly again.

When she returns to her rooms after detention and bedtime rounds, Hecate is both shocked and pleased to see Pippa already there. But her heart immediately breaks when she sees her sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring off into space as if she’s lost in thought.

“Pippa?”

The blonde turns to her, tears hanging just off the edge of her eyes. Though the room isn’t very large, Hecate transfers right to Pippa, pulling her against her chest. Pippa’s breath shudders. No tears fall, Pippa’s holding back the urge to fully sob. Hecate holds her tighter when she feels her press her nose to her neck, puffs of air hot against it. Pippa’s body shakes and shudders but she never lets the tears come, something worries Hecate immensely.

“Pippa,” Hecate tries again. She receives a small shake of her head, so they sit there silently until Pippa mumbles that she’s ready to go to bed.

The next morning Pippa is as bright as she can be, refusing to talk about the situation outside of what needs to be done. For the rest of the week, the two schools attempt to find some sort of common ground. For the most part, they can continue as they normally would. Some classes have been combined. Dimity and Abigail have a blast sharing exercises for the students while Lavinia and Pippa mesh together traditional and modern chants. Others are left as they were before, something that relieves a bit of Hecate’s stress as she doesn’t have to share her classroom or curriculum. They continue on and slowly, day by day, something gets undone and returned back to its proper place.

...

Wednesday morning breakfast announcements the next week begin with a chiming of bells. Cackle’s is full of life in a way it has never been before. Students in purple vests file in next to witches in grey dresses, chatting a mile a minute even at the early hour as they pile oats and fruit into their bowls. The setup of the great hall is awkward and a bit too crowded, but surprisingly it’s been an easy adjustment. The easiest parts of Pentangle’s have been returned to their proper place. Spells and potions have been brewed for the corners. The two schools have only been joined for six days, but they’re working like a semi well-oiled machine. Each morning Ada or Pippa announce what part of the school has been returned and an estimate of their time remaining. It’s not much of one as they try to keep hope alive but not too high. Only a few of the students have been caught sneaking out to the wizards’ corridors and vice versa, joining Azura, Isabella and Adelaide in detention.

Pippa is just finishing her announcements when someone from the crowd interjects, “But, Miss Pentangle, what about movie night?”

“It was supposed to be this Friday,” another little wizard steps forward to say.

“Oh,” Pippa starts, stumbling in surprise. “Well, I suppose we will just have to postpone the movie night until we return to Pentangle’s.”

Every single wizard and witch from the modern academy groans in disappointment. It radiates throughout the room as the Cackles’ girls’ mouth “movie night?” at each other.

“I know you all were looking forward to it, but good witches and wizards always look for the bright prospect in gloomy situations. A postponement is not a cancellation.” Pippa reminds them. That gets them nodding and some even try to convince their friends that it’s alright, but the atmosphere in the great hall is discontented and unhappy as students file off to classes for the day.

Hecate transfers directly to the potions’ laboratory when breakfast ends, checking the supplies. Between practically doubling the amount of ingredients used in class for both schools and the amount necessary for the separation, each ingredient must be heavily inspected and accounted for. Her back is turned to the young first year witches who dutifully take their places at their cauldrons when she overhears one mention how unfortunate it is that Pentangle’s can’t have their movie night. Another agrees in a soft whisper. What causes her ears to perk is when one of her students mentions Pippa and how the headmistress seemed just as disappointed as her students. Normally, she wouldn’t give such gossip a second thought, but she can’t help but question how Pippa is feeling after having to console her more than once.

And they’re right. Pippa has been off kilter since announcing the postponing of their school wide movie night. Hecate definitely remembers the blonde gushing about how fantastical it would be a few weeks ago. They had been on a mirror call and the blonde had gone on and on about popped corn and fizzy drinks and a movie or two projected outside, under the stars.

Hecate enters Pippa’s office after detention, tapping on the open door.

“Pippa, you need to rest.”

Unbeknownst to many people, Pippa is a worrier. She’d like to be known as the put together, awe inspiring super witch many have made her out to be, but the truth is she stresses more than she would ever let on. She had worried herself sick when applying for Weirdsister’s. Every competition, every presentation, every speech she’s ever had to give has been rewritten, rehearsed, and regurgitated to perfection. Because she is Perfect Pippa and right now Perfect Pippa’s perfect academy is a jumbled mess.

“My school, Hiccup,” her eyes water just as they did the first night. This time, though, they streak down her face, the dam finally broken.

The brunette kneels at Pippa’s feet, taking her hands in her own. “Your school isn’t a building, Pipsqueak. You know that.”

The blonde nods, “I know.”

“And you know you’re doing the best you can to still adequately provide for every student and faculty member.” She goes on to say. Pippa nods again. “It’s not just you who has to fix this and it’s not your fault.”

Pippa sighs and presses a hand to a pale cheek. “Between waking up here and seeing Pentangle’s empty, like a dismembered puzzle and just having to figure things out I...” she trails off, a lump in her throat and tears welling up once more.

Hecate raises up to grab a few of the light pink tissues in the desk. She brushes away tears that threaten to drip down Pippa’s chin and hands the blonde a couple more. “It’s alright. You can’t let yourself take on all of the responsibility, Pippa.”

Then she smiles. It’s watery and sad, but Pippa smiles and Hecate thinks perhaps it’s the first time she’s seen a true one in days. “When did you become the sensible one?”

Hecate scoffs, “I always have been.” And with that, she presses the smallest and sweetest kiss to the hand that is still clutched in her own. The one against her cheek guides her forward for a real kiss. The dark witch finally convinces Pippa to leave her office, to return to their room and rest just a bit. They sit in silence, curled together on the couch before Hecate must take her leave to ensure every witch and wizard are in bed.

During her nightly rounds, Hecate takes the stairs to the old but still familiar room in the tower. She silently greets the bats that hover outside before transferring into the room unannounced.

“Mildred Hubble,” Hecate begins, startling the girl who had been studying. “I require your assistance. Report to the potions’ lab after classes tomorrow.” She raises her hand to transfer away but she pauses. “And do bring Miss Spellbody, Miss Hallow and Miss Foxglove.” Then she’s gone, leaving a stunned Mildred, mouth in a small “O”.

The next afternoon, after classes have finished for the day, Mildred finds herself leading Maud, Ethel, and Felicity down the corridors of Cacktangle’s. She already feels her head throbbing after trying to convince a still skeptical Ethel that she wasn’t trying to play a prank on her. Though, she should get her back for the soap incident that may or may not have happened in the Pentangle’s pool a few days before. She puts it on her mental to-do list. (Just because they’re older and fight with each other less doesn’t mean they can’t play a few tricks every now and then).

“And Miss Hardbroom didn’t tell you why she needed us,” Ethel asks — well, states — for the tenth time.

“No, she just said to bring you,” she sighs, growing more and more frustrated with the blonde.

“Weird. Miss Hardbroom always has a reason for whatever she wants,” Ethel mutters to herself. “Are you sure?”

“Ethel! Why would I lie about Miss Hardbroom needing us?” Mildred tries her hardest not to shout as she pushes open the door to reveal a potions’ lab littered with small bags for popcorn and candy and sugary drinks. Isabella is cutting red and yellow card stock while Azura twines on little twist-ties around baggies filled with lollipops and bubble gum. In another corner, Adelaide is taking inventory of the beverages. Hecate is in the back of the lab, finger pointed as she checks off item after item on a piece of paper, and she looks up when she hears the girls gasp in shock.

Without wasting a second, Hecate puts Felicity on movie duty, her maglet instantly unlocked as she tracks down the topmost popular movies and activities for the uninterested. Ethel, having just mastered a penmanship spell, is set to work on signs and labels. Maud and Mildred are sent to round up any and every spare blanket, comforter, and pillow for their guests.

Detention (or extra tutoring as most consider it but would never let Hecate know) normally lasts an hour. When Hecate had gone to dismiss the girls, saying they’d rather help, she’s shocked that they refused and continued going on. They continue for another two hours until they’re finished. It’s a gesture she’s not sure she’s really received from anyone outside of Pippa, Ada and the Cackle’s staff, this extra voluntary assistance. Hecate definitely isn’t one to ask for help outright. So, they stay until it’s time to ready for bed. The potions’ teacher shuffles the girls, who are both exhausted and buzzing with excitement, off to their rooms.

Hecate is just about to transfer away when Azura calls her name. The instant she turns, head high and brows raised in question, she’s enveloped in that familiar hug again.

When the girl pulls away, she sports a sleepy smile after she yawns into her elbow. “It’s really cool of you to give the Pentangle's students their movie night.” She giggles at the pinched expression on Hecate’s face before skipping back into her room with a soft but cheery “Good night, Miss Hardbroom.”

Breakfast on Friday morning is quiet, none of the Pentangle’s students are very talkative. They're all still upset of their postponed movie night. There had been talk that there would still be one as most were skeptical of Felicity and her inquiries the day before but since word hadn’t come from any of the teachers, the students shrugged it off as Felicity simply being an aspiring journalist. Had she not been so utterly exhausted the night before; Hecate would have told Pippa and they would have had an announcement at the ready. Instead, she had showered and brushed out her hair before slipping into the warmth of the bed that's only been increased by the presence of an extra body. She still has some last minute preparations to do before the first class begins (and to tell Ada -- something she had neglected to do in her haste) so instead she'll just have to announce the movie night at lunch.

The time rolls around and she stands from the teacher's table and walks to the front, following slightly behind Ada. Pippa had been obviously confused when she had walked away with an almost ominous smile. Everyone grows silent and suddenly Hecate is transported to the countless amounts of times she had been forced to speak in front of her peers. Her palms sweat. The unnoticeable tendrils of hair that have fallen from her bun tickle at her neck. But like then, she looks out to the crowd and finds confused hazel eyes waiting for hers and she breathes easier.

Ada starts with a sweet “Good morning, everyone” and then launches into a reminder that Pentangle’s magical maze is still off limits as it continues to change every hour instead of every Friday, making it very easy for any and everyone to get lost. She then turns to Hecate for their special announcement.

She sniffs, tilting her head upward, “All students will be excused from their final periods in order to prepare for,” Hecate pauses for effect. “Special cinematic viewings of select entertainment beginning at 6 pm.”

There’s chatter instantly which Hecate lets go on as she steps down from the stage and back over to the teachers’ table.

“Hecate, did you?” Pippa starts to say.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“You did!” The blonde’s eyes brighten and glaze over slightly. She drops her voice. “That’s why you were working late last night. Oh, Hecate you didn’t have to.”

With shoulders high and a smile, she tries not to let show, Hecate says “Yes, well...”

There’s absolute hearts in Pippa’s eyes. She leans closer to Hecate who tries her hardest to keep a neutral expression when she says, “Remind me to kiss you silly later.”

The school vibrates with energy after lunch. While most of the Pentangles students are out for the day (Hecate still finds Pippa’s insistence of having four day weeks strange) the halls are cluttered, and excitement is in the air. Cackle’s has never had a movie night. Hecate can recall previous students mention is once or twice, but she’s sure she had always turned down the idea with a stern look and a hissing denial.

Now, however, she’s sitting on a blush pink plush quilt on the grass as the sun sets, behind over one hundred students, waiting for the blonde to return from the makeshift concessions. Pippa had known she’d want a bit of their privacy and picked a near perfect spot. The nearest students happen to be Mildred and company and even they are well out of earshot. Dimity and Abigail are to the other side, though they’re a bit less covered in shadows.

There were supposed to be only two movies shown before curfew began, but Hecate had been convinced by more than one student and staff member for just one more. She folded. It’s not like she’d be watching it anyway. She had already sat through two supposed classics, one being about a group of teen witches dabbling in dark magic with no thought of the repercussions and thus reaping what they sow. When the second movie had ended she turned to a very comfortable Pippa, who had been laying against her side at the back of the audience and asked if she could transfer them. Now they’re taking the final stairs to the top of a quiet tower.

“What will the students think?”

Hecate rolls her eyes at the playful tone, “I am a very powerful witch, Pippa. The students wouldn’t dare say anything to me. They’d have to be worried for an entirely different reason.”

“Oh? You would finally pretend to be the big, bad potions’ mistress you aspire to be?”

They exit the door to the tower, high up with the stars when Hecate pulls Pippa to her, nose to nose. “I do not pretend. I am all that you say and more.” She takes Pippa’s breath away, who melts against her embrace. Pippa wouldn’t have even looked away had it not been for Hecate’s own urging her to look around. Red candles outline the group of fluffy pillows, a darker burgundy blanket and darker plush blankets are scattered around for when the wind gets to be too much. There’s wine and dessert and the twinkling stars in the night sky. Hecate twirls her hand and the soft melody of a timeless chant begins to play around them.

The couple settle against the pillows, making themselves comfortable. Hecate pulls Pippa close, one arm around her middle and the other resting on her thigh. They laugh together in hushed tones as to not give away their location. Pippa keeps her promise to kiss her girlfriend silly and Hecate almost, just almost, concedes to sleeping atop the tower for just one night Hiccup, please? They don’t, though she does let Pippa lean against her as she rests for a few precious minutes before transferring them to their shared room. ... One late afternoon, after almost three weeks of domesticated life, Hecate sits at the desk in her rooms, marking the last few fourth year quizzes feeling... different. She’s not as tired as she normally would be. She hasn’t even taken a wide awake potion in maybe a week even with the amount of magic she has expended in the separation process. Her mouth isn’t down turned in a frown at the missed questions and miscalculated math. She’s lighter, and her heart beats a little stronger, a little faster in time. Hecate realizes perhaps for the first time in a very long time that she’s more than content, she’s tranquil.

Hecate is lost in this thought when Pippa breezes through the door with a smile and small skip, her ponytail swinging happily behind her. As always, Pippa greets a lounging Morgana and a stoic Artemis before she primly sits on Hecate’s lap in an attempt to not wrinkle her dress (though she is done for the day) with a greeting and a kiss, arms sliding around her neck. She nuzzles her nose against Hecate’s temple as the brunette returns her embrace and it’s the most natural thing Hecate thinks she’s ever done before. Because it’s become so normal. It’s second nature, like brewing a levitation potion. Pippa, not surprisingly being headmistress, works longer days than Hecate and while she has always greeted her in this manner, the hugs and kisses seem better, warmer, just right.

She can’t have this forever, she knows. Pentangle’s is almost back to normal and then Pippa will be off again, and they’ll be distance lovers once more, meeting when they can. It tugs at Hecate’s heart that eventually she won’t wake to warm puffs of breath against her neck. That she won’t fall asleep to Pippa’s gentle snores. She won’t have to set out an extra mug for tea. The laundry will decrease, dishes too, and she’ll be left to her own devices.

“Hecate, darling, are you alright?” Pippa voice pulls Hecate out of her thoughts.

The brunette nods her head. “Just thinking.”

Pippa hums softly, “About what?”

Could she be completely and totally honest? Why not? It’s Pippa. She’s Pippa’s girlfriend (though she abhors the word) and who else could she be honest with.

“I’ll miss this.”

Pippa softens, holds her a little closer. She readjusts on Hecate’s lap, soft smile on her lips. “I’ll miss it too, darling. So, we should enjoy it while we can.” … Ada and Hecate had been sitting in the headmistress’s office the next day, chatting numbers over tea when there’s a knock at the door. Hecate stands and flicks the door open to reveal Adelaide, Azura, and Isabella with Mildred behind them. The older girl gently nudges them forward and when they give her an apprehensive look at Mildred, she just gives them a more confident one back. Hecate raises a questioning brow, noticing how the younger girls shift from foot to foot, fingers twirling around their sashes.

Azura steels herself and turns to Ada and Hecate with her head high. “Izzy, Addy and I want to lead a project to properly sendoff everyone from Pentangle’s.” “And to apologize again for the mess we caused.” Isabella adds while Adelaide nods her head in agreement.

Mildred steps in, “They’ve got a plan for music and food and decorations.” She pushes Adelaide forward. The younger girl shuffles to Ada and Hecate, waving her hand to produce a booklet of plans only three fourteen year olds could produce.

She and Ada look over it. It’s not a horrible itinerary, some things will have to be changed and adjusted for practical reasons but for the most part it’s doable. Hecate has to stop herself from giving them too positive a reaction. They can’t know she’s proud. Not yet at least.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Miss Cackle sweetly smiles at them. The girls brighten instantly, looking to each other as if they had had their fingers crossed in hope.

And thus, begins the preparation for a farewell dance. Like preparing for the movie night the previous week, Mildred, Maud, Ethel, and Felicity join Hecate and the girls during detention to assist. There’s decorations prepared and stored away, menus to give to Miss Tapioca and Miss Cassava, and posters and fliers to hang up though Felicity’s post on her blog will no doubt spread the news fast enough. (In fact, the girl had known about it before Mildred even asked if she wanted to help. Hecate still doesn’t know how she does it.)

Instead of transferring to her room when she and the girls had finished, she finds herself tapping on Pippa’s still present and ever open office door. For some reason, Pippa’s office has been one of the most difficult places to return to Pentangles, coming second to the ever changing maze. The pink witch looks up above her equally pink reading glasses and instantly smiles.

“I’ve almost finished this last page. I promise, darling.”

Hecate takes her place in the chair across from the desk, a flippant hand waving away the promise. “No need to rush.”

They exchange a brief gaze before Pippa silently returns to whatever paper she was reading. One minute passes. And then another. And then another. Hecate has to stop herself from tapping her foot as the minutes tick by. Her eyes study Pippa. The way her lip is caught between her teeth, her nose scrunched ever so slightly as if something doesn’t make sense. Earlier her hair had been pinned up into a low chignon bun at the nape of her neck. She must have taken it down when classes had ended as it’s now in a slightly higher ponytail. Her matching jacket hangs on the back of her chair.

The brunette is still studying her when Pippa looks up and finally removes her glasses, fingers already pressed to the bridge of her nose.

“There’ll be a farewell dance at the end of the week,” Hecate bluntly states.

“Yes, I heard! It’s supposed to be a fabulous event, you know.” The lift in her voice lets Hecate know the woman’s being playful.

The brunette hums as she leans forward, fingers tapping against the quartz paperweight on the desk. “Indeed, it is. Of course, as headmistress and deputy of our two academies we’ll be expected to attend.”

“Hecate Hardbroom, are you asking me to be your date to the farewell dance?” Pippa bats her lashes and props her head against her hand, a silly but pleased smile playing on her lips.

“I was attempting to be modest, Pippa. Perhaps some sly wizard got to you first” she jokingly says with a roll of her eyes but then looks expectantly at her.

“And I would turn down each one for you.” Finally, the blonde stands from her desk, smile still perfectly in place as she reaches for Hecate with one hand and flicks the door closed and shut with the other. “I’m done here, transfer us, darling?”

“With pleasure.” ... The night of the Farewell celebration, Hecate is a ball of nerves and she can’t really say why. Sure, Pentangle’s and Cackles have been perfectly separated. There’s spare rooms still in place for everyone to sleep in for the night but otherwise they’ll return to normalcy in the morning. She should be happy, and a part of her is. But another dreads the silence that will come when they’re officially two separate schools again. She doesn’t think Cackle’s should be coed but teaching young wizards had been a pleasure she hadn’t expected. The food might lose its flare. The halls will be less congested. There’ll be no Pippa. That really grates at her nerves as they silently ready to the sounds of Pippa’s modern chanting records.

“Zip me?” Pippa asks, already turning her back to Hecate who silently slides the zipper up and up and up.

“You look beautiful, Pippa.”

The blonde smiles brilliantly as she puts the back on her earring, turning to Hecate. “As do you, darling.” At the risk of ruining both of their lipsticks, she presses a light kiss to her lips. “Now, let’s go before we’re late.”

“We could just not go.”

“Hecate,” Pippa almost scolds.

The brunette rolls her eyes as she smirks. “Fine, fine.” And they take their leave, twisting and turning down corridors that no longer have large modern windows to the great hall.

The room sparkles with warm yellow lights. Students are already dancing to whatever pumping beat is playing. Hecate immediately shifts into chaperone mode, finding a place on the wall that she can see the entirety of the room. Ada joins her for a moment while Pippa goes off to mingle with the students and staff, but for the most part she’s alone as she listens and watches, scanning the room for sneaky young witches and wizards. Azura, Adelaide, and Isabella stop to bring her cookies they know she won’t eat but are really hoping she does. She nibbles at one of the plainer ones as she spies Mildred on the dance floor, her movements still as clumsy as they had been years ago.

The night goes on and some begin to take their leave when Hecate finally moves from her spot, transferring across the room.

“Dance with me?” Hecate asks as she appears next to Pippa. The blonde doesn’t flinch like she used to when the brunette would unexpectedly transfer next to her, Hecate notices with a quirk of her lip.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask me that,” the blonde beams, hand reaching for Hecate’s before leading her out to the dance floor.

A Hecate before would have never put herself on such display, a thought that is ridiculous to her now. She loves dancing, has always loved twirling and stepping around a dance floor, her dress flaring at her ankles. But for years she prevented herself from being the center of attention, hating the eyes on her. With Pippa, dancing is even better. She holds and is held closer, tighter. Their steps are synchronized to perfection. They’re cheek to cheek and the students and staff fade to the far distance of her mind leaving just her and her Pippa.

“Marry me?” Hecate asks softly in Pippa’s ear. It’s not exactly how Hecate pictured she’d propose, without the roses and the low light and the ambiance. Perhaps she should have done it the week before when they were alone atop the tower.

Pippa is speechless. Absolutely and fantastically speechless. But also, she isn’t. She has been waiting for this day since who knows when. She has been hoping that would happen sooner rather than later. Perhaps sooner rather than later meant well over thirty years. They’re standing still when she looks into Hecate’s eyes and she pulls them away. Away from young ears and the gazes that don’t even know the question asked. Pippa drags her away until they’re alone and she can breathe and make sure this is real. “You don’t think we’re moving too fast? I mean, we’ve only been together for-“

“One year, six months, two weeks, four days, five hours and,” Hecate takes the moment to open the time piece hanging from her neck. “Twenty six minutes.” Pippa, as stunned as ever, asks through a small chuckle, “Why do you know that?”

The brunette shrugs as if everyone knows exactly when they made things official, fair skin deepening to a full blush. “I’d tell you the seconds but I’m sure I stopped breathing when you said yes the first time.”

Pippa loses her own breath. Curse Hecate and her way with words. She doesn’t think she can breathe without this dark-haired, even darker eyed beauty. So, she kisses her. Pippa kisses Hecate until they are both gasping and out of breath. “Yes, yes I’ll marry you.”

The brunette grins, beams. And they kiss. And something about this feels like a next step. Something about this feels final. Something about this feels right. Like forever.

#hicsqueak #hecate hardbroom #pippa pentangle #the worst witch #fic #Azura moon #chakayla's royal decree

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

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RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 4 "Haunted House" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

A girl died in this tub.

There's no record of any of these names except for one.

Oh, my god, there's two of them!

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Halloween is the most important day of the year. It's the one day on the Gregorian calendar where you're allowed to go around terrifying children and not be branded a psychopath.

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A lot of my fans are, like, friendless dumpy coeds at this or that nursing school in one of this country's various national armpits.

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I can't wait to see you in person, but before that, I'd like to see you post this all over social media, to exploit it for my own gain.

Aah! It's a rotting jack-o'-lantern!

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Do you mean to suggest I changed out of my nightgown, strapped myself into a skintight pleather red devil costume, climbed out a second-story dormer, and shimmied to the ground with a chain saw before entering a window I had left open, tried to kill you, then leapt out the window, climbed back up the wall, changed back into my nightgown,

and raced downstairs, all in the course of about 90 seconds?

Clearly that's got you a little freaked out.

I'm not gonna hold any of this against you, and I'm gonna let you be my date for the faculty Halloween party.

Attempted murder!

A guy was almost killed tonight, okay?

Now, no, I'm not a detective, hell, I ain't even a cop, but what I am is somebody who watched every one of those Cosby mysteries, okay?

See? Dismemberment!

I am so sorry that I pushed you out of my car and drove off real scared.

I just can't believe that How To Lose A Guy In 10 days is your favorite movie, too.

In precisely two and half minutes when we go in there, you let me do all the talking.

What are you dressed as?

Oh, you have a squirrel. Don't see that much anymore.

Breakfast is almost ready, we got meat today.

What can you tell us about that night?

Now, we will keep your name out of it, of course.

'm a vault,

And to get in this vault you need a key. Now, you may ask, a key to what? It's a key to meaning. Once you've found the meaning, you don't need the words. You know what I'm saying?

Please, continue with your story.

Have any of you ever heard of "negligent homicide"?

We need to dispose of this body on our own. Now, I've got everything we need in the kitchen to make sausages out of her.

I'm gonna go downstairs, shut this party down, and then we'll get the body out of here.

Somebody has to watch after the baby.

Can you at least turn on the radio?

Just leave the details to me.

We can't just act like this never happened.

She's the devil, that one.

I looked at that baby up close. I know my peas and carrots. That baby was a girl.

Your support doesn't matter.

My campaign needs a theme?

My pumpkin's drunk.

I'm hosting a haunted house to raise money for sickle cell anemia.

Why are you holding a fund-raiser, though?

I don't think you understand the magnitude of the miscalculation you just made.

I can assure you you will not be winning an election anytime soon. And when you lose, I am gonna make it my lifelong passion to destroy your reputation.

You're a stuck-up little sociopath, and everybody in this room knows it.

It might behoove you to recall that everyone here witnessed you actually murder someone

Just sharpening knives.

Put the knives down.

I don't know what came over me.

How very adolescent of you to think of this.

It vaguely smacks of something my six-year-old sister would be excited about.

It's the most disgusting disease in the history of mankind.

You get it when you don't even understand the most basic tenets of oral hygiene.

Just give the dang thing its pot of gold already!

I ain't got no candy!

Bet you're a sexy dirt-covered girl. That's what I bet you are.

Sometimes I come out here and I just rub my hands on the gravestones.

I get you more than anyone.

I also find the thought of dead bodies extremely arousing.

I just don't understand why I have all these dark feelings.

You know, I just think our generation's had it too easy, you know? We haven't seen enough horrible stuff. There's no awesome diseases randomly killing people. There's not really any awesome wars to go off to and witness horrific things you can't unsee. We, like, pulled out of all of 'em.

Sometimes I just don't even feel like I'm living, you know?

The only time I feel anything is when I'm thinking about chopping up a body.

And here you are, saddled up with an uptight girlfriend who freaked out for no other reason than the fact that you just wanted to fantasize about having sex with her lifeless corpse.

Oh, my god, I got a total chub right now.

Not scary enough.

She'll let you in the back door.

What could be scarier for an adult than a child coming to murder them?

Isn't that all of our greatest fear? That the pain, the regrets, the mistakes of our youth will destroy us in our adulthood? That we can't escape our inner child. One we would rather forget, but who, at the end of the day has all the power.

Why are you lying to me?

Something does not make sense.

You got to give me more here, okay?

I don't understand what you're getting at.

Are you on bath salts?

Why are we even here?

This house is haunted.

There's a legend in this neighborhood about a woman who wailed about her dead children. And this was the house she lived in.

These dumb ol' kids are smoking crack.

I think it's incredible what you can find out with just a quick trip down to your local library.

This can be one of the rooms for the haunted house.

What exactly do you plan on doing at this haunted house?

I was thinking we could blindfold folks and make 'em put their hands in a bowl full of grapes we peeled, so it'll feel like eyeballs.

I think the reason you want to have a haunted house party is 'cause a haunted party is like a buffet for murderers.

Yeah, yeah, you can just go around killing anybody you want and ain't nobody even gonna even notice.

Just like you chopped the arms off that dumb-ass golf guy.

Why do you have it out for me?

So now you look at me and see everything you could've been.

I hope you have a good time at you haunted party and get to murder lots of folks.

You have this way too thought out.

Isn't this kind of nice?

My sense of personal identity is completely external.

I really don't have much to offer.

I've found that my particular style of speaking and gesticulation is extremely off-putting to most boys. And girls. And anyone.

I need to eat. My blood sugar is crashing.

I'm tired of depriving myself of joy and sustenance.

I may die at the end of a serial killer's blade, but I refuse to die hungry.

Which one of you ladies would like to be my costume for Halloween? I'm going as "dude having awesome sex with you."

I mean, what in the hell's wrong with the world where a guy can't even whistle at a chick just to tell her she looks hot?

I recently took a women's studies class. Yes, because it was a requirement, but I learned a lot anyways. Like the culture that says it's okay for a man to objectify a woman for her appearance is the same culture that pressures girls as young as ten to have eating disorders.

So you're basically saying I'm the one responsible for making you look hot?

When you treat us like meat, you're no better than him!

I'm not really sure how you got my number, but I like how you took the initiative and texted me where you wanted us to meet.

Do you think you're man enough to take me inside that house and attack my crack?

I'll sure this house has an amazingly romantic basement.

Hey, so, uh, a little awkward since we're about to bone down and everything, but, um, what's your name?

Smells like roadkill.

I've never been so scared in my whole life.

All right, if we go to the police, they're gonna see I'm still rocking a mad sidepipe, and they're gonna think I had something to do with it.

We have to warn people.

All right, everybody listen up! All of your lives are in danger!

There are dead bodies! Dead bodies. Real-life dead bodies.

Did you say dead bodies?

Those are like the most lifelike dead bodies I've ever seen.

Is that a real dead body?

There are five dead bodies in that house. Laid out in horrible and deliberate macabre poses.

You are not leaving this house tonight.

You make it harder and harder to believe that you're not the killer.

I found out something really interesting, and now I have a theory.

Everything is weird about that story.

I mean, it's too big a coincidence.

We have to figure out who that woman was.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #scream queens

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quicksiilver · 3 years

Text

In My Fathers Eyes

All Parts: Here

Also on AO3: Here

Part Five: The Upside Down

Word Count: 5.6k

Chapter Summary: Under the influence of the prototype device created by Tony and Bruce, Rachel lives through moments in time that had already happened. Learning more Avengers history from the boy downstairs, Rachel finds herself a new friend.

Suddenly my eyes clamped shut and I sat up straight. I could no longer hear any noise from the room or the men in it. My eyes began to dart back and forth behind my closed lids and my breathing picked up only a bit. I could only see darkness, as if I were put into my own brain that appeared to me as a darkened hallway. Slowly, I lifted my foot and put it down realizing that I could walk where I was. Trying to look down or at my arms was impossible , I couldn’t see any part of myself but I was somehow conscious in another world.

“Where am I?” My voice echoed, the noise vibrating off of the darkness that surrounded me. There was a minute of silence.

“Can you hear me?” Tony asked, echoing into the dark. Twisting my head around side to side I still could see nothing, but I nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I said, “What’s going on?”

“You’re in your brain, kid,” He said as if this were an average Sunday night for him, “We can see everything you’re seeing out here.” I reached out a hand and tried to grab something, anything, but got nothing.

“Am I still... here?” I asked, the feeling of emptiness looming over my back. It was growing colder, and even though it was pitch black it seemed to be getting darker.

“Yeah, you’re still here with us,” Tony said, “You’re just seeing inside.” It felt as if the coldness was wrapping around my body like a snake, pulling tighter. I reached out again hoping to feel for the table, but I missed. My senses were disoriented and I was dizzy. Tony was asking me another question but his voice came through fuzzy to me. I continued my search with both my hands now, anxiously gripping the arms of the chair and feeling for the table to get myself grounded. I hadn’t noticed my breath or my heart rate that were now both skyrocketing the longer I fell into this panic.

“Hey!” Peter's voice cut in and I felt someone grab hold of my hands, “I got you. I’m right out here.” Squeezing his hands tight I tried my best to take in a deep, very shaky breath. My hands were trembling, but Peter held them steady.

He suddenly appeared in front of me, the scene of us meeting downstairs replaying a few feet away in the darkness. My breathing slowed as I watched him crouch to the floor and speak to nothing. The memory was being played from my eyes, so I couldn’t see myself.

“This is crazy,” He said slowly from outside in the room with Tony and Bruce.

“What?” I whispered, turning my head to the side.

“I’m looking at myself,” He began, “From wherever you’re standing right now... This is from earlier, when we crashed!” I couldn’t see him, but I feel like I could tell he was excited.

“Peter, watch out,” Tony said and I felt Peter let go of my hands and Tony grab onto one of them not nearly as gentle as Peter had been. The vision of Peter dissipated and a Tony shaped figure appeared in its place. The moment he had with Thor pressing his hammer against him was playing, the figure of Thor appearing as well. A small smile grew on my face as I watched my uncle defend me again.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony groaned and shook my hand away as I sat there feeling better, “So that’s how this works. Where’s my phone?” His voice moved with him as I believe he looked around the room for his cell phone. I still couldn’t hear any other noise besides their voices.

“I feel like I’m in Stranger Things,” I said with a quick laugh.

“Oh my god!” Peter laughed, “You’re in the upside down.” He joked. His voice was still close to me.

“Not even close,” Tony scoffed, “Pepper made me watch that show. Here.” He placed his phone in my hands.

“I can’t see what’s on it,” I said holding it up to whoever was near me.

“Obviously,” Tony groaned, “Your painting of those things is on the screen. Can you think about that for a second?” Instantly without me even thinking too hard about it all of the darkness around me shrunk and I was placed in my apartment in my bedroom. Finally there was a scene around me that comforted me even in the slightest. It was quiet, aside from a rumble of thunder outside happening every few minutes. Tony's phone dropped from my hands. I looked to my bed and found my mothers old quilt lying on top of it, along with a couple stuffed animals thrown by the pillows. That blanket had been shoved in a closet for years now, knowing it was her favorite, I couldn’t bring myself to wrap up in it at night. The walls were covered with artwork my seven year old self had drawn, along with some colorings that weren’t even on paper. It was nighttime, the room was dim. Lighting struck just outside the window making me jump and a woman’s voice shouted from outside in the living room. I was having deja vu. I had just dreamt this last night.

Lightning struck again and I wanted to fall to my knees and run away. Outside that door was my mother chained up by one of the blue things I painted. A frost giant, as Thor had told me they were called, and they were very much real apparently. The anxiety I was feeling once before was back, except it was stemming from the sound of my mothers helpless cries.

“Rachel, stay with us okay?” Tony coached me, my real self showing signs of my panic, “We’re here with you, we can see and hear this, too.” A hand gripped mine again. It was Peter. He squeezed it once and I took another deep breath.

Looking down at myself, sure enough, I was in a Little Mermaid nightgown with chipped toenail polish and chubby little kid fingers.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, Peter squeezing my hand again, “This is the dream. I had this dream last night. I’m living it right now.” Lighting struck and I leapt against the wall, fear shooting down my spine.

“What dream?” Bruce’s voice came through to me, “If you talk us through this it may be easier to get through.”

“I used to dream of them. The... the frost giants,” That word now left a funny taste in my mouth, “And I had it again last night for the first time since my mom died,” I was surprising myself with how well I could talk about this to these strangers, “There’s one here, he’s outside the bedroom door.” Silence came from the men that were with me.

“You’re only seeing a memory, kid. It can’t hurt you,” Tony reassured me. Taking myself away from the wall I inched for the door. Once I was in front of it I took a hand and placed it on the door knob. At this point in the dream I open the door and see my mother and that thing, and I bolt for the telephone. I swallowed, hard, and closed my eyes silently counting to three. One... two…

“What’d I miss?” Thors energetic voice bellowed into the room and my eyes shot open. I was still in the dream.

“Thor?!” I gasped, all of my panic subsided.

“Yes,” He answered, his voice coming close, “What’ve I missed? What’s happening here?” Confidence suddenly surged through my veins as I watched myself hold onto the door knob. Tony’s voice echoed, explaining some things to Thor that I tuned out. My heart was beating as if it were in my ears. Pursing my lips together I didn’t waste another second, and I flung the door open violently. My adrenaline was pulsing as I stepped out in the living room and looked toward the front door where my mother was found, chained in the awful restraints with the frost giant standing above her. She screamed out my name, telling me to run, but the rest of the dream played out before I could control another movement of mine. The telephone was there on the counter and my little feet were taking me to it, but not before I got a good glimpse at the blue monster who was staring right back at me with blood red eyes. The scene around me began to vanish, the couches, the counter with the phone and the walls all faded away into the empty black I started out in. What was left behind was my mother, the frost giant and me. The monster turned to me, looking directly at me now, and walked in my direction. I stumbled back and hurried away, trying to get as far as I could before he could reach me. Once I was stuck he held out a hand and came so close to grabbing hold of me before I shouted.

“Stop!” I screamed, and he froze. Silence flooded around me everywhere. I hesitated, not knowing what to do next. Scooting myself sideways I broke free from where I was stuck and stared at the giant.

“What’d she do?” Bruce’s voice asked.

“I don’t know... she seems to have frozen the memory,” Tony answered, “Thor? What can you tell us about this?” My eyes drew up and down the giant, finding I wasn’t paying enough attention to detail in my drawings. He was a light icy blue color underneath all of the navy markings, and veins covering his body. Knowing that he was frozen where he was, I came closer and swore I could see little reflects of gold on some parts of him, but it was very faint. He had to have been at least eight feet tall, just crouching below the ceiling of the apartment when we were in there. I rounded him, and then placed myself back in front and looked up to his face. His nose was sharp as was his jaw, but it was almost beautiful. The eyes were what chilled me the most, however. The red was so bright and they seemed as if they held onto pain, years of it.

Reaching out a hand that now looked like my own, I poked his arm once but didn’t feel anything special. I expected to feel a chill, or to freeze, or something spectacular, but he just felt normal to me. Behind his arm my eyes found my mother in the same place she was before. Stepping around the giant and going closer to her, my heart sunk to below my knees. She was crying, her hazel eyes were wide and full of fear. Her golden hair was messy on top of her head in a ponytail with a scrunchy from a pack of six we used to share with each other. She looked beautiful. She always did to me, despite everything. Her youth stuck with her until the day she left me. I swear she never aged a day over twenty five.

Looking at her now my heart was being squeezed inside my chest. The pain written on her face killed me, and the lump in my throat grew until I let out a sob, squatting down, dropping my head against my knees. I looked up to her and reached out a hand, grazing it against the side of her cheek that felt warm. Instantly comforting me. A single tear fell from the corner of her eye and onto my pinky finger.

In an instant she faded away, as did the giant, and my real eyes opened with a huge gasp from my lungs. The room was blurry and way too bright. Holding up a hand I shielded the light away until I could see properly, while I sucked in air like I had been underwater for a half hour.

“Kid, keep breathing,” Tony said from in front of me. I looked toward him, and then looked to Thor who had his face planted on a screen on the other side of the room with Bruce.

“It’s over,” Peter said softly from beside me. Turning my chin, I sighed with relief. He was still holding onto my hand. Sniffling, I pulled my hand away to wipe both of them across my cheeks to clean my tears but I couldn’t feel any. The tears from inside didn’t make an appearance out here, and I thought what sweet irony.

“That was insane,” I said letting my weight slide me down in the chair.

“Pretty crazy from out here, too,” Peter agreed. He asked me if I was alright, looking at me sympathetically and it clicked in my brain that he saw the entire scene, even the end with my mother. Pushing the grief back in where it’s been kept, I simply nodded my head.

“It’s almost been three years,” I told him, “She was an alcoholic.” No matter who I said those words to, and it was very few, it felt as if I was admitting the secret like it was myself. I looked down at the floor, the dizziness of being under finally lifting.

“Almost fourteen for me,” Peter said to my surprise. I turned back to him with my eyebrows raised. He smiled at my expression, “Yeah,” He sighed, “Plane crash. Both of them.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Nah,” He shook his head, “Thank you, but I’m okay. You know the crap the adults fed us in high school about it getting better?” We both cringed and laughed, “Sounds stupid, but it does.” He rested his hand over my arm. We both fell quiet, finding ourselves in another gaze match. His brown eyes broke away from mine and flickered all around my face, his lips growing into a slow smile.

“I see it now,” He said and I rolled my eyes with a soft laugh.

“Every single one of your Avenger friends has said it about me today, and the funny thing is, I don’t even know what he looks like,” I said. My phone buzzed in my pocket making me jump forward. Quickly scrambling to pull it out I unlocked it and found a few messages from Shaun.

“It was going off the entire time you were under,” Peter told me. Glancing to him I groaned.

“It’s Shaun,” I said and I watched his face slightly change with subtle concern.

“Who’s Shaun?” He asked.

“My best friend,” I muttered, “Who is Avenger obsessed. I’m basically living his dream right now.” Peter shook his head.

“Tell him it’s not as great as it looks,” He muttered, and I shot him a look of uncertainty knowing very well that I’ve basically been recruited to join this not as great as it looks team. He laughed, shaking his head faster.

“No, it’s great for us. We have the powers,” He spoke confidently. It was my turn to shake my head, Peter’s eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t have any,” I said.

“But, Loki-“

“Yeah, Loki,” I whispered staring toward my lap saying his name out loud that still shocked me, “He learned how to do his magic Thor told me, but he told me that I’d probably be able to learn it.”

“Children?” Tony called over to us. Between Peter and I speaking to one another we hadn’t noticed he joined Bruce and Thor across the room. Peter stood up attentively and I wondered why he was always so responsive to Tony.

“We’re going to be in here for a while. Rachel, you’re probably beat,” Tony said and I agreed, my muscles were starting to ache, “It’s going to be getting late soon. Why don’t you guys go get something to eat, and Peter you can show Rachel where she’ll be staying.” Peter answered him and then asked me if I was feeling okay to leave, and he promised we’d take the elevator. I nodded to him, but felt stuck on Tony’s words.

“Where I’ll be staying?” I asked standing to my feet.

“Yeah,” Tony spoke as if I was restating the obvious.

“How long am I going to be staying?” I asked, hoping to finally get an answer to this question. Tony tapped the pen he had in his hand on the table and looked around the room thinking to himself.

“I literally can’t give you an answer,” He said honestly and I felt defeated, “I have no idea how long this is going to take or what else we’re going to need you for. This was only the start,” He gestured toward me and I realized I was still wearing the earbuds he gave me. I took them out quickly and sat them on the table.

“We’re going to need to do this again and see what else we can find,” He said and Thor looked up to me.

“Rachel, you did great,” He smiled.

“You know who it is?” I asked, pointing to the screens. He glanced away from me for a moment.

“No,” He said flatly, “But I’m determined to figure it out,” He frowned when he looked at me again, “I’m sorry.” His eyes were soft and I knew he was talking about my mother the same way Peter had.

“Thanks,” I smiled.

Peter and I started to leave, I followed him toward the door, but before leaving I turned back to Tony.

“What do I do about school? Work?” I asked. He thought to himself for a moment.

“I think Tony Stark can get you out of it,” He said and focused back on his work. Letting them work, Peter and I left and took the elevator to another floor. I felt my phone buzz in my hand and I remembered I never answered Shaun.

“Sorry Peter, I have to see what he wants,” I said quietly, opening my phone to my best friends messages. The elevator dinged and we stepped out onto a floor that opened up into what looked like a giant kitchen and living room, but it filled up the entire floor. There were TV’s, refrigerators stocked to no tomorrow, and long couches that looked extremely soft. Peter told me he was going to grab us drinks and left me alone with Shaun’s messages.

S: Okay I know I said I wouldn’t bother you anymore but tell me why Thor just came here?!!

S: I’m still at your place and he just knocks on the door!??! He comes in and shakes my hand

S: He’s insanely strong I thought he was going to break my wrist and he is GORGEOUS up close

S: Sorry I know he’s your uncle now

S: He stayed for like ten minutes but he just left. He said you’re doing good!?? And that you aren’t coming home today?? I’ll cover for you at the bar.

S: Either way be safe I love you and keep enjoying your time!!!!

I smiled and tapped a message back to him.

R: They had to read my mind..... and Tony says he’s gonna have to do it again. It was exhausting. I’m about to eat something I’m with this guy Peter who works here with Tony. He’s nice and I think he’s gonna help me out while I’m here.

Three dots popped up the second I sent the message.

S: The name Peter is not in my head.. you stumped me.

R: He says he’s Spiderman..??

S: SPIDERMAN!?!?!!!

Double tapping his last message I laugh reacted to it as he continued to type.

S: He’s shown you his face?!? He’s the only Avenger who no one knows what he really looks like!!!!! Is he old? What’s he look like?

R: He’s kinda cute.

I sent that text with minor regret.

S: Oh SHIT!!!! Get. It. Rach.

R: He looks like he’s our age but I dunno. He lost his parents when he was really young so it feels kinda nice to know someone knows how I feel.

S: You know I try my best

R: I know but you know what I mean

S: I know!! Okay stop texting me, go sleep with Spiderman.

R: Shaun!!!! No.

He only sent me back the smirking emoji, so I slipped my phone back into my pocket and joined Peter at the kitchen table he made himself comfortable at.

“Here,” Peter said as he slid a water bottle across the glass toward me, “You’re gonna need that.”

“Thanks,” I spoke softly. Twisting off the cap I took the bottle to my lips and nearly downed half of it in a few sips, not even realizing the irritation growing in my throat. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything since this afternoon in my apartment before being abducted to come here.

“What’d I tell ya,” Peter smirked. Rolling my eyes I cocked my head, agreeing with him.

“Must’ve been from all the hot air in that room,” I said with a slight dig to Tony who I knew couldn’t hear me. Peter laughed under his breath and sighed.

“Mr. Stark gets better,” He said in a reassuring tone, “I promise. He and I went through a rough patch at some point.” I shot him a look of surprise. There was no way I could imagine Peter and Tony fighting with the way Peter seemed to obey his every command, or the way Tony seemed to want to protect Peter when the topic of battle came up earlier tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, taking a sip of his water keeping his eyes on me.

“I guess....” I started and then shrugged my shoulders before I continued, “I can’t see you guys having a rough patch with how I’ve seen you guys act today.” Peter looked to his lap before displaying a proud smile, however it soon turned mischievous and showed me a new Peter.

“I met Mr. Stark when I was fourteen,” He began, “He needed me on his team to help fight the other Avengers,” My expression fell confused, “Yanno when the big guys had to sign the agreement that they belonged to the government?” He asked, I slowly shook my head and he waved the thought away with his hands, “Well that had to happen, so Mr. Stark recruited me to help him. Then I wasn’t considered an Avenger yet, so as every fourteen year old would, I really tried my best to prove myself to him,” Peter was sitting forward in his chair now, his chest leaning against the glass edge of the table.

When he spoke he used his hands and it gave me a subtle hint that he was from here, New York. All native New Yorkers use their hands to talk. He was so expressive with his story, his eyes beaming with pride and excitement. There was a single small curl that had fallen onto his forehead and I couldn’t help but allow it to stir up those feelings inside me again. Between the confidence he held as he told me his origin story and just his complete appearance in general, I think I’m feeling something stronger than just some little butterflies.

“He took away my suit, my webs... Basically everything,” His voice fell slightly and he paused letting his eyes gaze around the room before landing back on me, “I realized how much he meant to me and how much I looked up to him,” He slowly smiled, “So I did my best to listen to him, and he did his best to listen to me. We spent a lot of time together before he officially made me an Avenger, and now I get to work beside him when I’m not out doing things for New York.” I nodded, taking all the information in and figuring out why Peter was so loyal to Tony without needing to hear the words. He was a father figure to Peter, and it was clear that Tony needed Peter just as much.

“Still,” I said, ripping the paper label off my water bottle, “He doesn’t get on your nerves?” Peter rolled his eyes and laughed, making me smile.

“Constantly,” He admitted, “But it’s cool because I get on his right back.” Smiling wider I glanced up to his smug grin. He was sitting back in his chair now, arms folded across his chest. The muscles in his upper arms were precisely defined, even in the long sleeves he was wearing, and as my growing tired eyes looked back to his, he squinted curiously. His smile had faded and I suddenly felt guilty for shamelessly checking him out.

“We gotta eat,” He said to my relief, and twisted in his chair to look toward the counters behind him, “Friday?” He asked aloud, speaking into the air. I lowered my eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Peter,” A female voice came from out of nowhere making me jump, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m feeling hungry. Can we get a pizza, please?” Peter asked her. Looking around the room I expected a woman to walk out from somewhere to answer him, but she spoke from nowhere again.

“Give me ten minutes, Peter,” Friday responded and Peter lifted a thumbs up into the air before turning back toward me.

“Who the... What?” I asked simply, letting my confusion do the talking.

“Oh, that’s Friday,” Peter said, “She’s a program created by Mr-“

“Stark,” I finished his sentence, cutting him off. He nodded happily.

“She’s everywhere I am pretty much,” He said, “In my suit, in this building, in my phone... she’s great.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Friday chimed in, making me jump once more. Peter smirked.

“Anytime, Friday,” He grinned, his eyes stuck on me again, “I got her from Mr. Stark when I became an Avenger. He had an almost too close near death thing happen to him. It wrecked him for a little while, that was the longest I went without seeing him since I had started working with him,” I kept my eye roll to myself when I heard that it was only six days, “But when he came back he had Friday and since then she’s been my number one girl. She’s with all of us now, actually.” Friday chimed in with another thank you that got both Peter and I to laugh.

In the time it took Friday to get a pizza for Peter and I, which was incredible because this invisible AI system made us a literal pizza, Peter told me about the rest of the Avengers team and what they had been through in the years they’ve been together. I was silent for most of it, enjoying the pizza that was unlike any pizza I’d ever tasted, which is crazy because I’m a New Yorker, and I let my facial expressions do the talking as Peter spoke. He was honest about never properly meeting my father. He had only ever heard stories about him and seen photos and listened in on conversations had by other Avengers about him.

When the two of us were finished eating we sat back and we each yawned, Peter first and I second. We finished the entire pizza and looked at each other happily full. I smiled and sat forward.

“Thanks for the history lesson,” I teased.

“Anytime, I’ll be here... for life,” He joked and both of us laughed.

I learned about Socovia, a place the team saved from robots before Peter’s time here, Wakanda, Vision and Jarvis, but I was mainly intrigued with the story between Steve and a man named Bucky Barnes. He had a history like Steve only he was under control by the bad guys, a group called Hydra who were long gone by now. It was cool to know the team was cool with what was between Steve and Bucky, because I was one of them as well.

Steve was bisexual, as told by Peter, and so was I. It was a relief to hear this actually, that I’d be accepted if they all knew. When I asked if Bucky was as well Peter shook his head and said that now they were both living in this present time Bucky found that he could be himself without facing the dangers of the world and finally told them all he was only into guys, and that all the women he involved himself with back then was to try to condition himself to be straight. That part of the story hurt my heart, but Peter ended it by saying that Steve helped Bucky through his transition to come back to Bucky and not The Winter Soldier.

It felt a lot easier to listen to Peter than it did to listen to Thor, as comforting as my uncle seemed.

“I’m beat,” I said pushing my plate away from me, “And stuffed.”

“Same,” Peter sighed, “I’ll show you where you’re gonna be staying.” He nodded to the elevator and we both stood up, walking toward it. Our sleepy selves bumped into one another by the door and I laughed under my breath as Peter looked at me with a small smile on his pretty lips. I took a deep breath and pushed that sudden intrusive thought away. When did I ever think of someone's lips as pretty?

“Thank you, Friday,” Peter said over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” I said looking at the table, “Thank you,” I said unsure of where to speak.

“You’re welcome,” Friday responded, “Please be safe.” Peter groaned aloud and I swallowed hard ignoring what the invisible woman was saying.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled as we stepped inside the elevator together, “I’m not allowed to have friends here apparently.” He crossed his arms and looked up at the small screen with changing numbers on it as we went down two floors.

“You’ve had other people in here?” I asked curiously seeing if he would give any information up about his love life.

“Yeah,” He said as the doors opened to an open room that was lined with doors, “But just friends though. I never really... dated anybody.” He spoke carefully, almost embarrassed by what he just told me. A happy feeling struck me and I smiled internally.

“Me either,” I said quietly and Peter looked at me as we approached the third door on the left of the hallway.

“Really?” He seemed surprised, “I mean, I don’t mean that’s a bad thing, I just...”

“It’s okay,” I laughed once, “It’s not a bad thing.” We shared a moment.

“I’m glad we have a lot in common,” He nodded, “It’s been pretty lonely here.” Knowing he was sort of in the same situation as me I felt comforted by his words.

“I’m glad we do too,” I returned his nod and he smiled then pointed at the door.

“This is you,” He said.

“Thanks,” I said with a breath, ready to get into bed and sleep off this day. Peter started to take a few steps backwards from me, “Where do you stay?” I asked before he got too far from me. He leaned against the door across the hall.

“Here,” He put a hand on the doorknob and we shared a smile.

“Goodnight,” I said and he said it back, then we both went into our rooms.

Inside there was a king bed covered in comfy blankets and pillows waiting for me. The floor had white carpet and the walls were a subtle shade of blue that matched the blue pattern on the bedspread. This room looked as if it was as big as my entire apartment, maybe even a little bit bigger. There was a TV on the opposite wall from the bed, and two lounge chairs at the end of the bed pointing at it. A small wooden table was between them and sitting on the dark stained top of it was one of my big overnight bags I bought myself when I started high school. Confused, I unzipped it slowly and found almost all of the clothes I owned inside of it. A note was shoved between the pairs of jeans.

Thought you would find this helpful. There’s another bag in the bathroom. No need to thank me, just know that I’m with you and here for you. - Thor

Turning around I found a door and took a deep breath, a feeling of excitement washing over me. My own room, my own bathroom, all of this is my space to be me.

Folding the piece of paper I sat it down on the bed and started to unpack my clothes separating them into their piles. I put them away in the dressers stained with the same color as the table when something in the corner by the bathroom door caught my eye. An easel, a tall easel, was leaning against the wall with canvases on the floor beside it. There was a bin of paint tubes and paint brushes nicer than I could afford myself. I hurried over and dug my hands into the bin fawning over how nice they looked unopened and untouched. The best part about being an artist was buying new supplies.

I placed everything back where it belonged and took myself to the dressers to change into a new sweatshirt and sweatpants and I crawled on the mattress instantly sinking in. Groaning at the sudden comfort I laid down quick and shimmied under the comforter forgetting to turn off the light. Groaning again in frustration I tossed the cover off about to stand up.

“I’ll take care of it,” Friday's voice said to me and I jumped. The lights switched off as I still sat there in shock.

“Thanks Friday,” I squeaked and she said goodnight to me. It was a little frightening to think that she was here... somehow. In the walls, or in the air or... something. Laying back into the pillows that I nearly disappeared in I shut my eyes and quickly fell asleep, exhausted from an emotionally overwhelming day.

#I have so many parts written I want to post them all at one time #I am holding myself back #marvel #marvel fanfiction #the avengers #the avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #thor fanfiction #loki fanfiction #Tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #bruce banner #Peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction

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londonfog-chan · 4 years

Text

Narancia Ghirga x Reader Part 2: Giorno

Y’all already know I’m up in here taking a hammer to the canon.

...

No one could ever love Haruno more than you, except for Narancia.

You’re so amazed, he has very quickly bonded with the little boy almost since the first few seconds he’s been in his new home. When you brought the baby home the first night, shivering and making soft whimpers in your neck, Narancia ran to the both of you and plucked the baby out of your arms. Haruno panicked at Narancia’s desperate attempts to take care of him, only reassured when you stayed right by his side.

It feels as though the events of the past never happened. Being with Narancia and the other boys he hangs around with, it’s like this is where you and Haruno have always been. The others have opened up to you when they saw Haruno in your arms, and the baby is a welcome addition to the home they’ve all built together.

“Haruno! Do you want some salami?”

“Can Haruno try a bit of spaghetti?”

“Haruno! Who’s that! Is that your sorella? Where’s sorella?”

Half the time he doesn’t know where to turn when there’s affection in all directions. Buccellati smiles and wraps the baby in his strong arms whenever you need to get something for him. Mista will watch him no questions asked. Stoic, abrasive Abbacchio smiles whenever the little one is placed delicately in his lap. Fugo is calmer when he helps to tutor Narancia, it definitely helps that Fugo has taken to balancing Haruno on his lap while he works with your boyfriend, and it’s amazing to see the love of your life understand the work for the first time when he’s got a young listening ear to explain everything to. When Narancia explains the problems to Haruno, a light goes off in his brain and he’s able to solve them easily. Haruno’s eyes widen when Narancia lifts him in the air, smiling and happy as he’s never seen someone be before.

So it’s no surprise when the little boy lifts himself off the blanket one day, and toddles towards an approaching Narancia who is laden with armloads of groceries for everyone.

“Hey! Look! He’s walking towards me! He chose me, he loves me more than you amore! Hahahaha!”

He teases you about Haruno loving him more without truly meaning any malicious intent, and he’s not above picking up the little boy and showering the both of you with kisses to prove it. One of many things that made you fall in love with Narancia is his heart. He has so much love to give, taking in a child that doesn’t really have any blood attachment to either of you and treating the baby as though he is the most precious treasure in the world. It’s even more amazing to see Haruno respond to this abundance of love. For the first few nights he wakes up and shivers silently in the darkness between you and Narancia, and you both start staying up late to make sure Haruno doesn’t wake up alone. After a while, he’s gotten better at communicating his needs. He starts crying when he’s wet or when he’s hungry. He’ll reach to Narancia while you’re feeding him, or if Narancia is changing him he will reach for you, taking your fingers in his tiny hands.

“Who gave him that stupid ass name, Sposina?” Narancia whispers.

It never fails to make you purr in pleasure when Narancia calls you his little wife, but you must be silent. Haruno is finally asleep. He smells sweet and clean, the clothes that Buccellati bought for him are warm because he just exudes heat, kicking off his new baby blanket as he dreams between the two of you in your warm bed. It’s been a long day, full of love and fun and delicious things to eat and beautiful things to see, and Haruno falls asleep quickly when you and Narancia are there to tuck him in.

The rash is gone, Buccellati took the child to the doctor at the frantic insistence of Narancia, and your boyfriend had taken over any administering of medications. You knew why he wanted to care for the baby, and it only endeared you more to your lover instead of making you jealous. Haruno couldn’t have fared better if another family had taken him in. They wouldn’t have been able to match that love.

“His mother.” You grumble. “I know… I hate it too.”

“She wasn’t Italian?”

“No.” you rub your hand softly over your brother’s soft tummy. “Really Haruno is my step brother, his mother is Japanese and she married my father when he left for a month.”

Narancia remembered that month. You’d been left behind with not much money, wandering aimlessly and trying to buy something simple for yourself with next to nothing. Counting coins left over in a line and almost about to walk away when he told you he’d like to treat you to something. It was when you both sat down together, his favorite pizza between the two of you, that he noticed your scarred arms and the sallow face. You were almost lost to a depression that had been building for sixteen years before he tore you away from that life.

“I think it’s a stupid name.” Narancia’s violet eyes sparkle with hate in the moonlight.

Calloused hands meet yours on Haruno’s tummy. With such tender love and affection, Narancia takes your fingers to his lips and kisses them. A loving gesture. One that relaxes you when Haruno is in the room and the both of you must be mindful of the noise.

“I’ve got a better one for him.” Narancia’s voice pierces the silence gently.

“Oh?”

You look up at him. There’s a mile wide smile on your face. He flutters his beautiful long eyelashes at you, and it brings such a sense of security to know that the beautiful young man laying across from you and your brother will never leave you two. Throughout the relationship, the first you’ve ever been in, he has been nothing but sincere and loyal to you. Narancia too knows the pain you both have endured. Back before Haruno came, when you and Narancia would be at your most vulnerable, he would hold you tightly against his chest, running a soft touch along the scars on your skin that had long since faded away. He used to tell you those scars were his, guiding your hands along his scars and telling you those were yours. Whispers that you both are one, will always be one, because the cuts and bruises will fade. But your love will always stay.

“Giorno. We’re going to call him Giorno from now on.”

Your heart feels like it will fly away. Propelled by love.

It’s a special name for him because that’s been the name he’s always wanted to give to his firstborn. If he’s told you once, he’s told you a million times: he wants a family of his own, and he wants it with you. The way he describes the life he will give you is so dreamy and makes your heart warm, he will show you pictures of gardens in magazines or books that Fugo brings him from the library and he’ll tell you the kinds of flowers he wants planted in the garden he will make for you. Sometimes when the two of you would walk hand in hand down the streets, he’ll point out the color of the buildings and tell you that’s going to be the color of the house he will build for you.

Of course Buccellati has taken extreme measures to make sure you and Narancia don’t become parents too early. Both of you are, to be frank, dumb ass teens with little more than your desperate passions on your minds, begging your Capo to let you both have kids when between the two of you, you maybe have one collective brain cell (that belongs to you the majority of the time). Stupidly you both thought that was the next step to take in a relationship when you were in love.

“Sposina?”

“Mm?”

He looks at you like he hasn’t been fed in months, but you know the look has nothing to do with food.

“Let’s make Giorno a big brother.”

A soft squeak catches in your throat, you can’t help it. He’s looking at you so intensely.

“Are you… Do you really want to?” you whisper.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He affirms. “Come here. Come to me. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s time we took this further. Vieni qui, sposina mio…”

How can you refuse him?

Carefully, mindful of your little Giorno, you move him to the warmth of your side of the bed and lose yourself to the languid kisses of your desperate boyfriend. This is also why you love him. His passion. His intensity. It burns you like fire and you have to really try to keep yourself quiet as his fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown.

The soft sound of a zipper makes your face turn red. No turning back now. Narancia has his tongue in your mouth and his kisses are heated and frantic. You reach down to take Narancia’s manhood in your hands, totally excited at the prospect of it being freed…

And you’re met with a strong hand around your wrist.

“Get back to your side, now.”

You open your eyes to see you’re suddenly face to face with Buccellati in his night wear. Narancia is gaping on the other side of his friend’s body. Buccellati is between you both, like a wall, while Giorno is blissfully unaware of anything happening around him. Without question you obey, scooting back to your sleeping brother while Buccellati slips in between you and Narancia. He acts as a barrier, placing Giorno on his buff chest while Narancia is too red faced to focus or protest, turning his back to his Capo while you burn in shame on the other side.

“Both of you go to sleep.” He hisses.

You both do so.

But you still can’t help but smile, thinking that you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

#narancia ghirga #narancia ghirga x reader #every day i take the hammer and FIX THE CANON #jojo’s bizarre adventure vento aureo #bruno buccellati #jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure x reader #jjba x reader #jjba reader insert #you and narancia have 1 collective braincell #giorno giovanna #haruno shiobana

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pietromelim · 4 years

Text

Lucie Herondale's 17th birthday! Takes place after the events of Chain of Thorns,which hopefully will have a happy ending!

Enjoy the reading!

Summer,1904,Idris

At the Herondale Manor in Idris,Lucie could barely pretend not to be excited,as she stood in front of the mirror.

Today was her birthday,her 17th birthday to be exact. Birthdays were quite important for the Herondales,since they knew how short a life could be.

Most of Lucie's birthdays were in London though,as her father,Will,would take her to the Portal,they would appear at the gates of the Institute,and inside Lucie would find her family and friends in a surprise party.

A surprise party she obviously knew about,so she usually spends a good amount of time rehearsing surprised faces.

That is what she was doing now,in the bathroom of her room. It wouldn't take long for Tessa to show up and congratulate her,and also tell her to speed it up.

Lucie wasn't really in the mood to speed it up today though,she was trying to make the perfect surprised face today,after all,she had a certain Blackthorn to impress.

James would make fun of her,no doubt. Luckily,he would be with Daisy so he wasn't going to pay attention to Lucie on that matter.

-Lucie! Are you done there darling!? Your father wants you to come and have breakfast with us!-Tessa said.

Lucie opened the door,she was still wearing the pink nightgown Grace had given her,as a way to thank her for helping bring Jesse back.

Lucie accepted the gift with quite some joy,since it wasn't like Grace to give anyone gifts. And the nightgown was very beautiful.

-I just need to get dressed Mam! I won't take too long!-Lucie said,as Tessa pulled her to a hug.

-My darling Lucie! Happy birthday my sweet girl! Seventeen years! You are almost an adult now!-Tessa said,nearly crying.

-Mam! Please save your tears for a more impactful moment of today!-Said Lucie,truth was,she was almost crying as well.

-Well get dressed then! And please hurry!-Tessa said,and left the room.

Lucie decided to wear a pink dress,one she used when Will asked for a portrait of her to be made. It was one of her favorite dresses.

She went downstairs and to the dining room,where her parents and James were having breakfast.

-The birthday girl finally decided to show up! Happy birthday sister!-James said,kissing Lucie's forehead.

-Thank you Jamie.-Lucie said,smiling,as Will approached her and hugged her.

-I cannot believe my Lulu is turning seventeen. I feel as if i ought to cry the entire day.-Will said,grinning.

-Papa! Enough with that silly nickname! It is embarassing!-Lucie said.

-And what are parents for if not to embarass their children?-Will asked,and they all laughed.

Those were really happy times. But the day was just beginning.

Later

Lucie and James were walking around the Herondale Manor. Truth was,apparently James had found a mysterious lake nearby that they never knew about. But Lucie was not buying it.

-That sounds so untruth! As a writer,i should have been the one to find this lake,so i could describe it in The Beautiful Cordelia!-Lucie said.

James shook his head.

-Try to forget about novels today,Luce. You are almost eighteen now. Do you have any idea which Institute you would like to visit?-James asked.

Lucie had already thought about that. She was waiting to see if the Clave would approve of Jesse's visit to the New York Institute. He wasn't seventeen anymore,obviously.

He had two ages,but since he did not had the chance before,he was considering visiting now.

And if the Clave approved,she would choose the New York Institute to got with him.

-Not really. I don't really want to think about that right now. Much can happen in a year. I am sure i will be certain of my answer in my next birthday.-Lucie said.

James nodded.

-Seems fair. I am sure we will have lots of fun today. By the way,i know that you were rehearsing today.-James said,and smiled.

Lucie felt like punching him in the stomach,which would be easy,since she was much shorter than him.

-My surprise faces are the best! And i was under the impression you would keep my secret! I think it pleases Papa and Mam if they think that i am really surprised.-Lucie said.

-I am sure they probably know that you pretend. But now is not the time to think about that. Let's go back to the Manor.-James said.

Lucie nodded,and so they did.

As Lucie opened the great doors of the Herondale Manor,she shrieked when she heard a very loud "Surprise" shout.

The living room was full of people,her parents,her family and all her friends.

She covered her mouth with her hands,and turned her attention to James,who was standing beside her,with a smile on his face.

-This was definitely your best surprise face,Luce.-He said.

Minutes Later

-I cannot believe it! This was your idea Daisy?-Lucie asked,looking at her Parabatai,that was laughing.

-James told me that usually your father would bring you to the Institute,so i thought it would be good if we changed the routine once in a while.-Said Cordelia.

-That was brilliant! For the first time,i was truly surprised!-Lucie said.

-And we had help from Magnus to make all this food appear here. I was afraid the cake would loose itself in somekind of random realm.-Matthew said.

Lucie looked at him. It has been almost an entire year since Matthew was sobber. It was good to see that he was being able to overcome his problems.

-Good thing it didn't! A birthday without a cake is quite anticlimactic!-Said Lucie.

She stared at the cake. It was quite big,a combination of strawberry and chocolate,Lucie could only hope that her mother would eat as well. She knew Tessa wasn't very fond of chocolate.

-You better go greet the others Lucie,and allow them to congratulate you.-James said.

Lucie nodded. James was right,she had to do that,it would be a good opportunity to talk to Jesse too.

Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Henry were the first to come and talk to her. Charlotte could barely go to the other birthdays she had,but since they were in Idris,it made it a lot easier for her to show up.

Charles came after,Lucie still had a hard time being around Charles. Some of his actions and words made Lucie seriously doubt if he would ever be a decent Consul.

-Lucie dear! Happy birthday! This is quite the party you are having!-Said Anna,and with her was Ariadne.

-Congratulations! I really loved your dress Lucie!-Ariadne said.

-Thank you! I'm so glad you two could come! How is your father dealing with the both of you being together?-Lucie asked.

Ariadne shrugged.

-I'm not really sure. He says it is okay,but always avoids the conversation.-Ariadne said.

-Don't let her fool you Ari! She is only trying to get a description out of you! She is a bloody writer!-Anna said,and Lucie laughed.

Uncle Gabriel and Aunt Cecily came to her,apparently Alexander was playing with his red rubber ball somewhere else.

-Lucie my beautiful niece! You will soon become an adult Shadowhunter! And then we will start our plan to take control of the Clave! Only women will lead!-Cecily said,hugging Lucie.

-That seems quite a difficult plan!-Lucie said.

-Don't listen to her Luce! We all know that you will become a great Shadowhunter and a great writer as well! I'm still waiting to have my own copy of The Beautiful Cordelia.-Gabriel said.

-Sorry Uncle Gabriel,but i'm afraid you will have to wait for it's publication.-Lucie said.

Eugenia,Sophie and Gideon also congratulated her,and it reminded Lucie of Barbara,and how she was always nice and cheerful. Lucie missed her cousin.

Lucie began to feel a little tired since she had been standing for quite a while now. She sat beside Thomas.

-Thank goodness you are not standing Tom! I wouldn't like to make you come all the way down just to hug me!-Lucie said.

Thomas smiled and kissed her forehead.

-It would be for a good reason. I am so glad to see that you are enjoying the party. When Cordelia had the idea of having the party at the Manor,i wasn't really sure if you would like it or not. Since we can literally see the ruins of the Blackthorn Manor from here.-Thomas said.

It was true. James had accidentally burned the Blackthorn Manor to the ground,and it was possible to see the outcome of that.

Lucie wasn't sure if seeing that would be awful for Grace and Jesse,but they didn't seemed to mind.

-Have you heard the big news Lucie? Christopher and Grace now have an understanding!-Thomas said.

Lucie would literally have screamed if the Manor were not so full.

She stood up and went to Grace's direction. It was Impossible not to recognize Grace,always in her ivory dresses.

-Grace! By the Angel,is it really true?-Lucie asked.

-Happy birthday Lucie. I hope you won't mind my presence here?-Grace asked.

-I'm glad that you came Grace. Our friendship has a special meaning to me.-Said Lucie.

Grace nodded.

-To me as well. I will always be grateful to you,for you helped me get my brother back. I will never forget your kindness.-Grace said.

-I am just as happy that Jesse was able to return. But do tell me! Is it truth? You and my cousin Christopher have an understanding?-Lucie asked.

Grace laughed. That rarely happened.

-It is true. Almost every men i met in my life thought that i was like all the other girls. That i only wished for emotions and feelings. But Christopher is different. He doesn't try to give me what he thinks i want. He listens to me,he makes me laugh with all that science of his. Being with him makes me feel lighter.-Grace said,smiling.

-That is adorable! I wish all the best for the both of you!-Lucie said.

-Gracie,might we have this dance? I swear to you i have been practicing the waltz with my mother and i will not step on your toes! Oh,hello Lucie! Happy birthday!-Christopher said,almost too fast.

-Of course,Chris. Excuse me,Lucie. Before i forget,my brother is in the garden,he wishes to speak to you,in private.-Grace said.

Lucie did not waste a second,she went straight to the garden of the Herondale Manor.

It was a sunny day in Idris,and the big trees in the garden created long shadows on the ground.

Jesse was near the tree,the shadow protecting him from the sun. It has been quite some time since he had returned from the dead,but he was still getting used to the light.

When he saw Lucie,a smile appeared on his handsome face.

-Finally,the Secret Princess Lucie has found time to talk to the Good Old Ghost Boy.-Jesse said.

Lucie put her hands on her hips.

-In her birthdays,Secret Princess Lucie can barely escape the attention of the Cruel Prince James,of the Demon Pox King William,and of the Shape-Shifter Queen Theresa.-Lucie said.

Jesse's eyes widened.

-Your father is Demon Pox King?-He asked,astonished.

Lucie only giggled.

-Perhaps Good Old Ghost Boy should have come to her rescue?-Jesse asked.

Lucie shook her head.

-Absolutely not! I am no damsel in distress i assure you! Grace said that you wanted to talk to me,so here i am! You may talk to me now!-Lucie said.

-How lucky i am,to get your attention for myself when everyone seems desperate to be with you.-Jesse said.

-That only happens in my birthdays. My attention will be on you,mostly.-Lucie said.

Jesse smiled. It did seemed like he had something important to say.

-So how has it been with the Clave? Will they allow you to go to the New York Institute?-Lucie asked.

-Charlotte Fairchild have talked to me when i arrived for your party. As the Consul,she said that i have permission. But it can't be this year. Since i was brought back,the Silent Brothers want to keep their closed eyes on me for a little more time. I can only visit next year.-Said Jesse.

Lucie beamed.

-That is absolutely perfect Jesse! How lucky of you!-Lucie said.

Jesse raised his eyebrows.

-Why am i lucky?-He asked.

-Well,i do become eighteen years old next year. In other words,i could go with you,if you are willing to wait.-Lucie said.

Jesse laughed.

-Well,it seems i really am lucky. Nothing would please me more than having your company.-Jesse said.

-It is settled then! You and i in New York,next year!-Said Lucie.

Jesse took her hands.

-Have you taken a look at your gifts? I'm sure you will love most of them. Perhaps all of them,if you are in a good day.-Jesse said.

Lucie was rather curious. What was his gift for her?

-What have you gotten me,Jesse? Will i like it? Or will i hate it?-Lucie asked.

-We shall see. If you don't mind,i would like to give you your gift right now.-Jesse said.

-Very well then. Please do.-She said.

Jesse leaned in close to her,and his lips touched hers,smooth and nicely.

They were holding hands as they kissed. Jesse tasted like honey and something more sweet than that. It was a taste she could only associate to him.

Their lips parted,and he smiled. That was probably the best gift Lucie had ever gotten.

-Happy birthday Lucie.-Jesse said.

#cassandra clare #chain of gold #the last hours #lucie herondale #james herondale #thomas lightwood #cordelia carstairs #jesse blackthorn #grace blackthorn #will herondale #tessa gray #christopher lightwood #matthew fairchild #anna lightwood #ariadne bridgestock

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 10 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters. xoxo!

Chapter Summary: Slumber party madness.

TW: Mild homophobia/biphobia based in ignorance

Chapter 10: Sleepover

Adore was determined to seal the deal on Violet and Pearl’s friendship. Her mom was out of town for the weekend, visiting her aunt, so Adore decided it was no better time than now. So, she invited Fame, Trinity, Willam, Violet and Pearl over to have a sleepover at her place. The two had been getting along better; Violet hadn’t been as harsh with Pearl as she had been during her first few days. Her snarky remarks and eye rolls whenever Pearl was near had declined immensely.

Pearl was the first to arrive, and helped Adore get her living room ready, pushing the couch and coffee table aside so that there was enough room for everyone and their sleeping bags, lining the floor with cushions and blankets, and setting out snack food.

“So, I never really understood what I did?” Pearl said as she popped a cashew into her mouth.

“Huh?” Adore looked at Pearl, confused.

“I mean, Violet…like did she ever tell you why she didn’t like me? It had to be a reason, other than just existing, right?” Pearl asked. She knew that Violet didn’t hate her like she did during their first few meetings, but Pearl also knew she was far from Violet’s favorite person, and it was driving her a bit mad.

“Look, Violet just has this thing with people,” Adore started shifting in her spot on the palate.

“A thing?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t really like people,” Adore tried to explain.

“You always say that, but she likes you and Fame and Trinity and Willam,” Pearl raised an eyebrow hoping that Adore would spill the secret to winning over Violet.

“Mhmm,” Adore nodded in agreement.

“So, you should probably tell me how to, like, win her over.”

“Oh, no. I having no fucking idea how to do that. I just figured that if I force you two to be in the same proximity enough, that she’ll eventually warm up to you,” Adore said, shoving a handful of chips in her mouth.

“I really hope you’re right, but I don’t know if-“ But Pearl’s thought was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

“Party!” Adore smiled, hopping off the ground to answer the door, Willam and Trinity stood in the doorway, their pajamas already on, per Adore’s request.

“New girl!” Willam eyes lit up, pushing past Adore to sit next to Pearl.

“You know, it’s been like weeks. I don’t think I qualify for the ‘new girl’ nickname anymore,” Pearl drawled blinking slowly at Willam.

“Whatever,” Willam rolled his eyes.

“Willam, you can put your bag over by the couch,” Adore informed Willam, who had just dropped his bag at the door.

“Cuz can do it,” he said looking down at his fun.

“Do I look like a fucking maid?” Trinity shot back and when Willam turned, his mouth ready to say something smart, she added, “Don’t you say shit.”

“I got it,” Adore offered kindly, picking Willam’s bag up and then hurling it into the living room.

“Hey!” Willam exclaimed, and all three girls began to laugh at him.

Courtney arrived at Alyssa’s house, a little apprehensive about spending the whole night with these girls. It was one thing to eat lunch with them, but a sleepover without Adore there? She sighed. It wasn’t that she begrudged Adore her new friends - except maybe for Violet, who was a bitter little monster with some kind of weird ax to grind - but she just missed her. She missed having someone around who would always have her back. And sure, she had Roy, but it wasn’t the same thing. And sure, she had Roy, but it wasn’t the same thing. And it certainly wouldn't protect her tonight.

There were some girls who were just inclined to these types of groups. Alyssa, for example, was a Queen Bee. She always had a gaggle of followers. She was a girl’s girl. Same with Shangie, and Gia, and Laganja. And even Darienne, to some extent (although Darienne could hang with the boys too, but she was equally comfortable with this slumber party sorority stuff). Courtney liked being a cheerleader. She liked being part of a team. She liked fitting in. But there was no doubt that she’d never really belonged to a group of girls, not the way the others had. She and Adore had always just been a pair, perfectly happy to be all on their own.

“Courtney!” Alyssa snapped, waking her up from her thoughts.

“What?” Courtney blinked.

“I said, what do you want on your pizza? God, you are a bigger airhead than Gia sometimes. It’s exhausting.”

“Oh, uh...veggies? I guess? I’m a vegetarian, so plain cheese would be okay too.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Shangela put an arm around Courtney’s shoulders. “Come on, babe, don’t mind her. Sit over here with me and tell me all about that fine boyfriend of yours…”

Courtney looked at Shangie gratefully, not noticing the death glare Alyssa was shooting at the back of her head.

Fame and Violet arrived together, looking as beautiful as always. Fame wore a light pink nightgown, red roses decorating the bottom with matching thigh high socks, her blonde hair pulled on top of her head into a bun. Violet wore all black, satin shorts and top, her hair down for once.

As the girls settled in with the group, Fame greeted Pearl with a kiss to her cheek and compliments on her skin, which earned Pearl a glare from Violet.

“I have such bad skin sometimes, the past couple of days have been pretty good to me. And I’m like thank the deities,” Fame laughed.

“I’m sure you’re still just as gorgeous as always,” Pearl complimented her and Fame posed, hands framing her face.

“Why, thank you. Especially coming from someone as beautiful as yourself,” Fame giggled, squeezing Pearl’s thigh.

“Okay,” Adore groaned out, interrupting the two. “This is so gay and not the kind of gay I like.”

“Seriously,” Willam agreed, pulling out his phone.

“What do you guys want to do first?” Adore asked excitedly , plopping down on the cushions beside Violet.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had a sleepover like this. Probably junior high or something, back when she and Courtney used to hang out at Dela’s house. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“We can watch some movies, play some board games, or do all that other girly shit that we’re supposed to do at sleepovers. Like paint each other’s nails, braid each other’s hair, have a pillow fight...” Adore trailed off with a light giggle.

Pearl humped her shoulders. Willam was busily texting on his phone, Fame looked deep in thought, Violet looked annoyed, and Trinity was prowling around the room in search of a liquor cabinet.

“Okay, so I think we should paint each other’s nails. I only have like three colors, but my mom has a shit ton of colors,” Adore said, trying to not let the others’ attitudes get to her. “Come on Vies, help me grab the polishes.”

Adore smacked Violet on the thigh before rising up, pulling Violet along with her. As they made their way to Bonnie’s bathroom, Adore decided to make sure that Violet was on her very best behavior.

“Violet, can you please just be nice tonight? Or like, at least try?”

“Why wouldn’t I be nice?”

“Violet,” Adore said, giving her a look.

“Fine, I just don’t like how she’s always all over Fame,” Violet said.

“Don’t act like Fame isn’t one of the touchiest, most flirtatious people there is,” Adore eyed Violet, who only rolled her eyes in response.

“Hold your hand still,” Willam growled out in frustration, fixing Fame’s hand on his thigh.

“I didn’t even move.”

“Then why is there nail polish on your finger instead of the nail?” He held Fame’s hand up to her face.

“Because you can’t paint,” Fame snatched her hand from Willam and crawled over to where Violet was getting her nails painted by Trinity.

“Where the fuck is the pizza? Has it been thirty minutes already?” Adore huffed out, moving slightly, earning a pinch from Pearl who was only doing slightly better than Willam.

“Halfbreed, get your ass back over here, so I can finish.”

“No, they already look horrible. Adore, where’s the polish remover?” Fame asked from her place behind Violet her chin on the girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t wipe my art off, halfbreed.”

“Shut up.”

Then the doorbell rang.

“Hold still, Gia, or I swear, your lashes are gonna come out even wonkier than usual!” April lectured as she glued Gia’s lashes down.

Alyssa cackled.

“Shangie, can you show me how you do that smoky eye thing?” Courtney asked.

“Sure! But do you even wear makeup?”

“I do! I don’t know why people always say that. I think my face just like, absorbs it,” Courtney laughed. “Adore once tried doing winged liner on me and it literally looked exactly the same as my regular face.”

“Speaking of Adore, I’m very proud that you’re branching out, Courtney,” Laganja said. “I mean, she was totally holding you back.”

“We’re still best friends, so watch it,” Courtney said sharply.

“Are you really?” Alyssa asked, one eyebrow raised, applying some pink lip gloss.

“Because she’s been eating lunch with those weirdo queer kids for weeks,” Gia added.

Courtney could feel her cheeks heating up. “It doesn’t matter who she eats lunch with. We will always be best friends.”

Alyssa yawned. “I mean, if you say so. Because it seems to me that she’s choosing to be friends with someone who insulted you and talks shit about you all the time. But what do I know?”

“She’s not responsible for Violet.”

Alyssa smiled deviously. “Of course not. But if someone treated my best friend the way Violet treated you...I’d probably murder them. But of course...Violet is doing other things for Adore that I’m probably not taking into consideration. And Adore isn’t me. Obviously.”

Courtney pressed her lips together, determined not to let Alyssa get to her.

“So, you think if Easy-E was still alive, that he would be as successful as Ice Cube and Dr. Dre are right now?” Adore asked Trinity, biting into her pizza.

“Yeah,” Trinity nodded.

Music was playing through the house on the speaker Bonnie had bought a few weeks ago as the gang all sat around trying not to burn their mouths on the freshly delivered pizza.

“Really?”

“It’ll be like Destiny’s Child. One would be the Beyonce, one would be Kelly successful and known, but not as good as Beyonce, then someone would be Michelle.”

Adore through her head back in laughter, “Don’t count Michelle out yet. She could still surprise us.”

“We’ll see,” Trinity shrugged.

“I think that if Left-eye was still alive, that TLC would be top of the charts.”

“Maybe, same thing with Aaliyah,” Trinity nodded.

“Rest in Peace,” Adore said crossing her chest then biting into her pizza.

“No, no, it’s like this…” Laganja demonstrated the dance move again. “Scoop your shoulder more…”

“You guys couldn’t find an accent beat if it bit you on the ass,” Alyssa snarked, shaking her head.

“Well...fuck…” Gia giggled, collapsing onto the couch.

“I mean, we dance in sneakers. If you had to put on heels and learn a real routine, you’d all probably end up with broken ankles and concussions.”

“Tell us how you really feel, Alyssa,” said Shangela.

Alyssa shrugged. “Whatever.”

Laganja laughed. “She’s right, though.” She pointed at Courtney. “You especially have no rhythm.”

“None at all,” Alyssa echoed. “Good thing you’re flexible.”

“I’m sure Roy appreciates it, too,” April giggled, covering her mouth.

“Gross,” said Alyssa.

“Draw two, Draw two!” Fame yelled at Trinity.

“Wait, is that on me? I thought somebody reversed it,” Trinity asked not wanting to accept the extra cards.

“Bitch,” Fame said grabbing the cards from the pull pile and trying to put them in Trinity’s hand.

“No, fuck that. I can draw my own cards,” Trinity knocked the cards out of Fame’s hand.

“Can you just pull the cards already?” Pearl spoke up.

“Shut up. Somebody, pull a draw four on this bitch, new girl only has three cards left,” Willam said leaning over in an attempt to look at Pearl’s card.

“Why are you trying to look at my cards,” Pearl whined playfully, leaning against Adore, hiding her cards in her lap.

“Willam is always trying to cheat,” Violet piped up. She was so concentrated on winning she had barely spoken a word throughout the game.

The girls had pulled down Bonnie’s wine and decided that a game of UNO would be better than watching a movie. It was only the first round and the game had already gotten intense. Willam had hid half his cards under his leg after being forced to draw six cards, thanks to Pearl putting down a draw four, Fame reversing the rotation and Trinity putting down a draw two card; which had lead to an argument about if they should start over or not.

“Fuck this,” Adore groaned, “Do we still have some pizza left?”

“Dare,” Gia said.

“Okay…” said April. “I dare you to...go upstairs and find something good from Alyssa’s parents’ medicine cabinet and bring it back down here…”

“Okay, fine!” Gia got up and sauntered up the steps of the rec room.

“Real mature, guys,” said Alyssa.

“Afraid of what she’ll find? Like your dad’s viagra?” Shangela dissolved into giggles.

“Please. My parents are so boring. I bet all they have up there is baby aspirin.”

The girls all looked up as knocking sounded at the sliding glass door. Alyssa jumped up and let Darienne in with her duffel bag. “It’s about time, girl!”

Darienne slipped inside, smirking. “Sorry. Thanks for covering for me. My mom didn’t call, did she?”

“No.”

“Darienne, you’re just in time for truth or dare. I think you need to choose truth,” said April, laughing.

“Okay, fine,” Darienne flopped down onto the sofa, grabbing a root beer. “Hit me.”

“What’s Jamin like in bed?” Shangela asked quickly, jumping in.

“I mean, I think he’s pretty good, but it’s not like I have a lot to compare it to,” Darienne answered thoughtfully.

“Okay, but how big is his dick?” asked Laganja.

“I thought you only ask one question at a time for this game…”

“No one cares about the game,” Laganja laughed.

Darienne rolled her eyes. “It’s big enough, trust me.”

“Why are you bothering Darienne about big dicks when Courtney is right there?” Shangela asked.

All of the girls turned towards Courtney, who started blushing furiously.

“W-what?” she stammered.

Gia skipped down the stairs, shaking a bottle of pills. “Who wants Xanax?!”

“Shut up, Gia, Courtney was about to tell us about Roy’s dick!” April exclaimed.

“I...you guys...I don’t know what...we like, just started going out a few months ago…” Courtney said, embarrassed.

“You haven’t slept together?” Laganja asked.

“No!”

“Okay, but like, you must have at least blown him,” Gia stated.

“N-no…” Courtney looked around at their judgmental faces.

“What are you, like, some kind of born again Christian?” asked Gia.

“No, I just, I mean...we just…”

Darienne put a hand on her shoulder. “Guys, relax. There’s nothing wrong with taking things slow.”

“Thank you,” Courtney said quietly.

“I think people are just surprised, because you guys seem so...physical. I mean you practically get to third base at lunchtime,” Darienne tried to explain without piling on the judgment train.

Gia laughed. “Yeah, like you obviously don’t need to sleep with him. I’m just kind of shocked that you haven’t sucked his dick yet. You should probably do that before he gets bored and breaks up with you.”

“Yeah, listen to Gia. She totally knows what she’s talking about from her zero relationships,” Alyssa deadpanned, hitting Gia with a pillow.

“He’s gay?” Violet’s eyes were wide as she looked over her glass at Willam.

“Well, I sucked his dick,” Willam shrugged.

“But does that count?” Pearl asked, and Violet tried her hardest not to roll her eyes.

“Of fucking course it counts.”

“I mean, he could have just wanted to get his dick sucked,” Pearl shrugged.

“That’s some gay shit,” Trinity commented. Fame’s head was resting in her lap, and she was absentmindedly braiding her hair.

“We could say, that’s some gay shit,” Pearl gestured to Trinity and Fame’s position.

“I’m braiding her hair,” Trinity rolled her eyes.

“But, her head’s in your lap,” Pearl shot back, “Real close to the pussy.”

Trinity’s face scrunched up as form of disagreement, but she continued to play with Fame’s locks.

“That is kind of some gay shit,” Adore agreed, looking at the two.

“Plus, straight girls always hook up with lesbians just to make out, and because they know we eat better pussy. So it could be the same with guys. Well maybe not the making out part,” Pearl said, sitting back on her elbows.

“Look who’s the gay specialist,” Adore joked from her spot beside Fame and Trinity, “But really, if a girl hooks up with a girl and enjoys it, is she really ‘straight’ and same with a guy?” Adore looked around the circle.

“But aren’t all girl a bit bi-curious, so technically not into girls, but not not into girls?” Violet offered. “And this is a dude, which seems different.”

“Well, by the way he was fucking my face-”

“Woah!” Pearl held her hand up to stop Willam, “Too much information.”

“He could be bisexual,” Fame offered.

“Shut up, halfbreed. I told you that doesn’t exist,” Willam reached out, tapping Fame on the leg.

“Well, what do you call me? Because I love my boyfriend, but I also like girls-” Fame tried to sit up, but was motioned back down by Trinity.

“Greedy. You’re fucking greedy.”

“Will, you’re an ass and I don’t know why I still hang around you,” Fame rolled her eyes.

“Because us queers gotta stick together. Plus, I need to be there to console your boyfriend when you leave him for a girl,” Willam laughed, making a dick sucking motion.

“Whatever,” she huffed.

“Okay, but let’s talk about those girls that like to hook up with girls, but don’t actually want to be with them,” Violet said, her eyes flicking to Adore for the quickest second.

“Well, there’s variations,” Pearl said looking at Violet.

“Variations?”

“Yeah, girls who only want to make out with girls for a laugh or because some jock thinks it’s hot. Girls who like girls, but want to marry a man and have babies and shit. And closet cases,” Pearl wiggled her three fingers.

“Closet cases?” Trinity asked.

“Oh, shit, Pearl’s right,” Violet nodded in agreement shocked at herself for agreeing with the blonde. Pearl’s eyes lit up a bit, but she kept the smile off her face.

“A closet case. Is, well there could be different kinds, but basically someone who is in denial of their sexual attraction to other girls, for whatever reason, but totally likes girls,” Fame explained.

“But the most important rule to remember about this is never fall for a ‘straight’ girl,” Pearl said looking around at the group, before downing the rest of her drink.

“EVER,” Violet added, looking at Adore.

Adore looked down at her fingers, avoiding eye contact with Violet; ignoring the small voice in her head that was telling her otherwise.

Courtney shifted in her sleeping bag. She wasn’t used to this—being in a room with a bunch of girls, but feeling so alone. She wished that Adore was here. Adore wouldn’t make her feel like an idiot for waiting with Roy; Adore would probably make her laugh by calling the other girls a bunch of sluts.

“Darienne?” Courtney asked, turning to the older girl in the dark.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you think...do you think Roy is gonna get bored of me if I don’t...I mean if we don’t start...doing more…?”

Darienne smiled sleepily at her. “Courtney, you should just do what you want. You know how much he likes you, right? The real question is, do you want to take things farther with him? Like, sexually?”

Courtney considered this. She hadn’t really thought about it. The truth was, she really liked things the way they were. She liked making out with Roy, she loved kissing him and being held and touched and cuddled. She was aware that he wanted to take things farther, but she assumed that was just because he was a boy, and boys always wanted to have sex. She hadn’t really been worried about him being bored or frustrated, until tonight. She’d been so utterly happy when he said that he loved her, but now these girls had her second-guessing everything. What if he had ulterior motives for saying it?

The one thing that she knew for sure was that she wasn’t ready to have sex. Her mother had sat her down a few weeks earlier to try and discuss birth control, and it made her head spin and her stomach hurt. She’d promised Karen that she wasn’t sexually active or thinking about being sexually active, but that she would come back and talk to her if and when it applied.

So what if, for now, she wanted to keep things above the waist? Or at least, their pants on? That was her right. Wasn’t that, like, feminism? She closed her eyes, sighing.

Adore had woken up in the middle of the night, hungry for pizza. She carefully stepped over everyone, making sure not to wake them. Once she reached the kitchen, she was slightly surprised to find Violet at the table, a bag of chips open in front of her.

“You’re the last person I thought to find in my kitchen at 4 in the morning with the junk food,” Adore said keeping her voice low as to not disturb the others.

“Which is why you should have guessed that I would be that person,” Violet countered.

Adore grabbed a slice of pizza cold pizza from the box, sitting down beside her.

“Question…” Violet said.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you invite Courtney tonight?” Violet’s pointed tone caught Adore off guard.

“Uhm, because I wanted it to just be us; and I think she had plans anyway,” Adore shrugged.

“It’s just that you’ve been real persistent on hanging with us and not them--not that I mind, actually I like it better this way--but it basically started the day she got together with Roy.”

Adore took another bite of her pizza, shrugging and avoiding Violet’s gaze.

“Do you hate him?” Violet asked suddenly.

“No, no, where did you get that from?” Adore shook her head, confused.

“You said that he tortured you when you were kids...”

“No, I said we used to fight when we were kids, because he was bossy and a know-it-all. Like how you fight with your siblings but you still love them,” Adore said with a smile.

“But he’s not your brother,” Violet countered. “He’s the dude who’s fucking your little bae. You’d totally skin him alive if you could.”

Adore bristled. Why did Violet always have to needle her like that?

“He’s not fucking her, Violet, and--”

“Not yet, maybe. Give it a month,” Violet said, brushing the crumbs from her hands and getting up from the table.

As Adore finished her pizza, she tried to convince herself that she didn’t care. She told herself that she wasn’t in love with Courtney and that it didn’t matter if she were because Courtney was with Roy, who she for sure didn’t hate. And she was very happy for both of them.

13 notes · View notes

hol-whore · 4 years

Text

erina x fem!reader – poetry, ch. 3: song

Jonathan and Robert pay a small visit; you and Erina forget to do laundry.

notes: NSFW!! not till halfway through tho dshfsdhj, unofficial marriage, rot-your-teeth sweet, full of jonawagon and tender lesbian romance, as always link is to AO3

You end up staying in her bed every night that week, falling asleep to her kisses on your shoulders and her hands scratching your back gently, and waking her up with kisses to get her day started.

Though the two of you swear to try and keep your romance lowkey, subtlety isn't necessarily Erina’s strong suit; nor is it yours. You can't help but steal kisses when you pass each other in the hallway, or when you meet to read together outside. Within two weeks the whole house is already aware, and if any of the other maids have a problem with it they at least have the decency to keep it to themselves.

You still carry out your maidly duties, of course, but you’re never alone. Erina makes a point to help where she can. She sees you as equals more so than she did before, and intends to treat you as such.

Erina wakes you up this time; not completely uncommon, but enough for you to be amused. Her arms hold you tight from behind, thumbing the fabric of your nightgown and nuzzling her face into your shoulder blade. She laughs a bit when you stir and lay your hands over hers, and her lips graze the nape of your neck.

“My loooove…” she mutters, her voice groggy and sweet, “We need to get up, dear, the sun is up. We have guests today.”

Guests? You hadn't marked today as having visitors, as far as you could remember.

“Who’s coming by?” you ask her, turning your head over your shoulder the best you can. Her hands clasp yours and press them to your chest lovingly.

“Robert and Jonathan? Did I not tell you yesterday? I write them weekly to tell them about life, and sweet Jonathan proposed we all spend some time together here, out of the way of the public so we don't have to worry about people…acting up.”

She definitely hadn’t told you, but you would take a surprise visit from them any old day. You sigh contentedly and push yourself back against her for a moment, then release her hands and roll over to face her. She smiles at you, warm and sweet, then presses a kiss to your forehead.

“We should have Meravi make her special lemon blueberry spongecake that Jonathan loves so much.” you mutter, then kiss her nose and run your hand down her arm the same way you do before she naps. She hums her agreement, eyes starting to close again before she jerks back awake and gives you a playful pout.

“Come on, darling, this house won't tidy itself, and we need to be awake when they arrive.”

And, though it takes rare amounts of pleading, the two of you set to work, dressing each other and tidying Erina’s room, then check in on the other maids, eat breakfast, and pay a visit to the kitchen.

The kitchen is already alive with commotion, the few assistants cleaning up from breakfast and talking with Meravi, the cook, about lunch plans. She smiles wide when the two of you enter the kitchen, hurrying over and hugging the both of you in her arms. She was a gruff, older woman, but that never stopped her from being strong and lively.

“Uccellini! Buongiorno, my Ladies, how are we today?” Meravi asks, a genuine smile glued to her face as she steps back and folds her hands in front of her. Erina laughs, brushing her hands over her dress and tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

“As lovely as always, Meravi. You seem well!” she comments, and Meravi puffs her chest out some as Erina continues. “How busy are you? Jonathan and Robert are coming by later, and I was wondering if you could make your lovely lemon blueberry cake to have with tea this afternoon.”

“Ahaha, it’s a double date, then?” Meravi teases, then crosses her arms and furrows her brow for a moment before flashing Erina a grin. “We’ll make it happen, milady, don’t you worry. After all, I’m sure I owe this house a favor after the lovely gifts last week.” she says, winking at you, and opens her mouth to continue before an assistant calls her over. “Ah, sto arrivando!” she hollers back, probably a little too loud, then gives you both an apologetic curtsy and hurries off.

Erina looks at you, flushed red, and laughs a bit. “A double date. I like the sound of it...two couples, darling. Is that not beautiful?”

As simple as it was, it was beautiful.

-----

Robert and Jonathan arrive precisely on time, both fairly dressed up in fine suits and warm smiles on both their faces. Erina practically throws herself against Jonathan. The two of them laugh excitedly and exchange their usual “oh, I missed you”s and kisses on the cheeks, and you and Robert start to laugh at them before he rolls his eyes and pulls you in for your own hug.

You couldn't say the two of you were particularly close, but you supposed you were as close as two people could be when one was a companion and maid to a Lady running her own home. You could perhaps invite him over on your own time, now, and bond further.

“Congratulations, Miss.” he murmurs fondly, his accent anything but posh. He rubs your back gently as you whisper your thanks and pat his shoulder affectionately, then the two of you step back exchange warm smiles and look at your respective partners. Jonathan sets Erina down with a chuckle, and she smooths her dress before clasping her hands together and grinning. “Oh, I am just so delighted you two could make it! Come in, come in, tea will be on shortly, we’ll sit in the garden today. We can’t waste all this sunshine.” she babbles, ushering them in and holding your hand the whole way to the back door.

Hot tea and warm weather don't necessarily mix well, but something about the lush foliage of the garden patio makes it much more tolerable. Butterflies flit all around, greeting every rose on Erina’s prized rose bush. Deep pots of wildflowers and shrubbery are scattered about, with beds of petunias, begonias, varying bushes, and mosses placed elegantly within the space. Erina’s garden was one of her favorite places to be, and she certainly treated it as such.

You and Erina share the old loveseat, and Robert and Jonathan settle in the chairs across from you on the other side of the thin, low table where your drinks are set. They scoot them closer, resting clasped hands on the arm of Jonathan’s chair and looking very at home. It warmed your heart right to its core, and you wonder if they know how lovely they are together.

The four of you delight yourselves in conversations of anything and everything, from silly new trends to housekeeping tactics to anecdotes of times together and times apart. Erina pulls out her perfect impression of her father’s old butler (of course), and Robert offers a handful of stories from Ogre Street.

All the chatter dies for a moment, and you sigh contentedly and scoot closer to Erina on the old wicker loveseat, resting your head on her shoulder. She smiles down at you, wrapping her arm around your back and cups your side. You feel your heart flutter in your throat and resist the urge to pull her in your lap and kiss her till she’s breathless. Jonathan offers a wonderful smile at the gesture, and casts Robert a loving glance before leaning down and raising their clasped hands to his lips for a faint kiss. The other man goes about as red as Erina’s roses, clearing his throat and trying to play it casual, but the giddy grin that crosses his face is undeniable.

Erina chuckles at them, her shoulder jostling you and her hand on your hip tightening a bit. “So,” she starts, earning their attention straight away as she sets her tea cup down, “have you two decided on a date for the wedding yet?”

The two of them share a quick glance, and Jonathan smiles sheepishly as he rubs his thumb over Robert’s knuckles. “Not quite. We’re having trouble finding a priest willing to do the ceremony--”

“Even though the ceremony is a sodding mess.”

“...even though the ceremony is a mess, but I heard that there's one man who’d be happy to. He’s in America for now, though. Everyone I’ve spoken to says they don't know when he’ll be back, but they guess next year sometime. Which is quite alright, I don't mind waiting, but it is stressful. Getting a certificate is also a problem, I think. I don’t wish to end up just buying it for extra, but if that’s the case…”

The air feels heavy, suddenly, and the four of you stew in a mess of emotions. It was a beautiful thing, to feel love, and while all of you knew it wasn't wrong, the kinds of love you all felt weren’t openly expressed enough for society to be unfazed.

Who knew unity could be so isolating?

Everyone is quiet, for a moment. Erina stands suddenly and crosses the path to the yellow acacia a couple feet away, gathering handfuls of aster and heliotrope and spearmint in a small bouquet. She grins, beckoning you all over and handing you the bouquet, then turns the men to face each other. They take each other's hands, both looking horribly flushed, and Erina clears her throat.

“Do you, Jonathan Joestar, take this rugged young man to be your husband, to save and cherish and defend for all your years, and to uplift and support with all your heart?” she says, putting on a ridiculous, deep voice similar to the one she uses for mimicking her father’s butler.

Jonathan and Robert both laugh as she speaks, and Jonathan struggles out a soft “I do” between breaths. Erina manages to stay composed, turning towards Robert and clearing her throat again --- this time twice as dramatic --- and he keens forward slightly.

“And do you, Robert Speedwagon, take this enormous young man to be your husband, and do all the same for him that I said earlier?”

Robert only nods, and Erina feigns a scowl before sticking her nose up and pouting.

“Very well. I now pronounce you husband and husband --- Mr. and Mr. Jonathan Joestar-Speedwagon. You may now kiss the groom.”

And as soon as she finishes, she herself finally bursts out laughing, watching as they struggle to meet each other's lips and instead just pull the other into a hug. Erina goes and grabs fistfuls of rose petals, throwing them on the pair and cheering and giggling like a child. They find their composure, and Jonathan dips Robert low in a deep kiss. It doesn't last long, breathless as they both are, but you and Erina applaud anyway.

The four of you go back to the patio table and sit, catching your breath. You place Erina’s tiny bouquet on the table and lay your head in her lap on the couch.

“Joestar-Speedwagon. That’s a mouthful…” Robert chuckles, cupping his brow with his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll just take Joestar.”

“Mm, Robert Joestar does have a nice sound to it.” Jonathan muses, dropping a heavy kiss to his cheek and sighing deeply.

Erina looks so proud of herself, a delighted smile plastered onto her fair face and her cheeks flushed red, and as she strokes your hair and hums quietly, you hope it’ll be the two of you under the yellow acacia next time.

------

The two men leave just before dinner, leaving you and Erina to a quiet night together after such a long day. You’re both so extraordinarily tired; early bedtime is never out of the question and, frankly, you deserve it.

But in all the commotion of preparation and hosting, you’d forgotten to take care of laundry. Neither you nor Erina have clean nightgowns.

You groan, closing the wardrobe door and turning to Erina sheepishly. “Sorry, darling. None of the old ones are here anymore. We threw them out last fall.”

“My love, it’s not your fault. I should've seen to it that another maid dealt with the laundry while we were busy. Hmm…” Erina pauses a moment, considering, then gives you a faux demure look and clasps her hands. “Is it too lewd to suggest we sleep in the nude together?”

Your face heats up merely at the thought and you quickly look away, blinking harshly. “E-Erina, we don't have to go that far, we could just wear the dirty ones a--”

“Darling…” she murmurs in a sing-song voice, stepping close and putting her hand on your chest. “We could, but it would feel so stiff and gross. We can wash them tomorrow, one night won’t be the death of us. Don't get all shy now, we’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

That was true, but never quite at the same time and never laying so close to each other.

“....just bloomers?”

Erina smiles fondly at you, warm and comforting, and she laughs gently as she nods. “Do you want me to help?” she asks, hand sliding down your chest and grabbing your hips. She pulls you in a little too close, and suddenly there's a fire raging in your stomach. You swallow hard as you meet her eyes and the fire only gets bigger. She looks stunning and intimidating, her eyes lidded and hungry, and her delicate smile laced with something sharper.

You squeeze your thighs together instinctively and, too shocked to say anything, just stare at her blankly as she tries to read you.

“Dear,” she whispers, her face softening as she leans in and kisses your cheek, “Are you alright? I didn't mean to--, I-I’m sorry, I wasn't trying to come on too strong I was just-”

“I would. L-Like your help, that is.”

She looks shocked for a moment, then smiles lightly and reaches to your back, tugging the zipper down and working your dress off your body. Her hands are delicate and graceful as she slips it off, hands running down your thighs as it lowers. She was always graceful and you loved it so much.

Erina starts to remove your undershirt, and before you can stop yourself from panicking, you raise your hands to hers and flush furiously.

“W-Wait, Erina, let me get your dress and then we’ll both lose our tops.” you stutter out. You figure you’ll have an easier time appreciating being so exposed in this situation if it was an even playing field. Not that you weren't appreciating it. Erina doesn't stop you; she looks at you, doe-eyed, then bashfully steps closer.

You meet her eyes as you slide her zipper down, hands somewhat blind besides what you can feel. Her dress falls easy enough once you get it off her shoulders, and your hands graze over her arms, utterly transfixed by how shy and sweet she looks. You tear your eyes away and work her dress off the rest of the way, and Erina laughs and rolls her eyes.

She tugs you over to the bed, then sits herself down with a wry grin. Her delicate hands undo her corselet and take off her white slip shirt under it. The pudge of her stomach spills over the waistband of her bloomers and it’s adorable. You’d never noticed how much of a droop Erina’s breasts had, but now that you were looking you decided it was your most favorite thing. She stretches, feigning a yawn and clearly flaunting what she knew she had.

“So much for same time, dear. Come now, bedtime.” Erina chides teasingly, clapping her hands. She leans back against the pillows, and you sheepishly pull your undershirt over your head and crawl onto the bed to sit next to her. Her gaze does not meet yours, either, and some of you feels better about looking at her for so long.

“Oh, sparrow, they’re so cute…” she mutters, blinking softly and taking your hand. You follow her quiet commands when she tugs you closer, seemingly guiding you on top of her.

“Y-You’ve seen them before, Erina.”

Soft hands grip your sides after you settle onto her waist and firm thumbs rub spots on your hips so good you gasp. She draws her hands back, instead stroking your thighs and sighing.

“Perhaps. But perhaps I never had the chance to admire them.” she whispers. Her face goes a new shade of red and she pauses, then swallows hard. “May I touch them?”

Oh god, she wants to touch them.

You force out a nod, trying not to be completely unresponsive again. Erina’s hands delicately graze over the swell of them, and she bites her lip as her palm touches your hardening nipples. You gasp, trying not to make a mess of yourself and whine more when she works her thumbs over them in small circles.

It’s an indescribable feeling, really, but you liken it to the feeling of her setting her hands just too close to your groin when the two of you sit together and she puts a hand on your thigh. Your breaths shorten, and you shamefully find yourself pushing your chest into her touch. At this point, though, your brain is far too hazy to think about shame.

Erina looks focused and stern when you find the courage to meet her eyes. It takes you a moment between her hands leaving your chest and you realizing how cold it suddenly feels there. Her expression doesn't change as she pushes on the small of your back, easing you forward and tilting your head down to meet her lips.

You put your arm down beside her for support and, after a moment’s hesitation, bring your other hand to cup her breast. It’s somehow softer than it looked, and you grin and laugh into her kiss. She giggles back, pushing you back a bit and giving you a delighted yet puzzled look.

“Y-Y’know. Soft, warm. It’s nice.” Your thumb brushes her nipple experimentally and she shudders, her gaze faltering. You try a gentle pinch and Erina gasps, squirming a bit, but as soon as you recoil she snags your wrist. The pleading look on her face and the demanding tone of her voice as she says your name is enough to make you melt.

“It’s nice.” you state. Not exactly poetic, but you figured it would do. Erina flushes a deep pink, and blinks at you.

“Nice, my love?”

“More of that.”

The space between your thighs burns as you freeze up, and you can't help but imagine what it would be like if she stuffed her hand down your bloomers right now.

Your hands cover both her breasts, fondling them gently and rubbing your thumbs over them and caressing them with every ounce of love in your heart. For a moment, you worry she’ll get sick of it immediately; maybe it loses its edge after a while. She brings you close again, though, and offers a deeper kiss than before complete with her hands knit in your hair. Every small whimper or grunt that she lets out makes you feel all tingly inside. It really doesn't help she’s doing it into your mouth.

The only thing that rouses you from being so lost in her is the wet, dripping feeling between your legs, and the jolt of Erina’s hips as you offer one more pinch. You pull away, her hands trailing across your cheeks as you do, and you both look like you've seen ghosts with your eyes blown so wide and your hands trembling in the others.

“B-Bedtime, for real, I think. Before we get carried away.” she whispers, and you start to sweat a bit more as you nod. She helps you off her torso, and settles in behind you to hug you tight. Her hand slips up your abdomen and holds your breast gently; your brain, of course, melts immediately. Erina snickers as you place your hand over hers, then she yawns and snuggles you close. Despite how badly your mind is rampaging, having her makes you feel so peaceful, and you both welcome the embrace of sleep just as you welcome the embrace of the other.

#look more of this bullshit #quality official is irrelevant to me #i am happy enough with it #erina pendleton x reader #erina pendleton #jonawagon #not sfw #jonathan joestar #robert eo speedwagon #jjba #jjba fanfic #:)#my writing

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doll-collecting-aerialist · 4 years

Text

The Story Of My Addy, In Honor Of Her Birthday.

(VERY long post.)

Growing up, the three American Girls I wanted most were Addy, Kirsten, and Cecile. However, Kirsten and Addy were always the top dolls I wished for, they probably tied in first place. I remember being about six or seven and flipping through my first American Girl catalog I ever received, along with Kit, my first American Girl. After staring at her respective pages, I flipped through the other Historicals. I was never too interested in the non-Historical aspects of AG as a kid (other than Mckenna), I was what one would class as an aspiring history buff. I thought all the dolls were gorgeous, but Addy in particular caught my eye. She was stunning.

I thought Addy was beautiful, and her pink meet dress was quite similar to a couple of my childhood dresses. If I wanted to be atmospheric I’d probably say I was wearing my favorite pink sundress the first time I was introduced to Addy, but realistically I was probably wearing my frog rain boots and my lobster pajamas. I had a fascination with footwear as a kid, particularly boots, and Addy’s shoes reminded me of Doc Martens. I had always wanted a pair of black boots, and I thought it was sick that Addy had “Docs.” I thought she was the most stylish out of the historical characters. I thought Addy’s hair was the prettiest out of the Historicals as well, it looked very soft and reminded me of my best friend’s hair. I also thought Addy had the prettiest face out of the dolls, I loved her nose and her eyes.

However, the people around me didn’t see Addy the way I did. I suppose you could call it a tradition for the girls of my elementary school to huddle around a new American Girl catalog when it released. My peers often marveled over the blond or light-red haired Truly Mes, and occasionally the GOTY. They rarely paid attention to the Historicals, and when they did it was usually a doll like Julie. When I brought up how pretty Addy (or Cecile) was, and how much I loved her, the girls would laugh at me. There soon became a group of white girls in my school who would laugh at me for wanting a black doll. They would call Addy horrible things, anything from saying she looked “dirty” to calling her the n-word. They said I probably only wanted Addy so “I could have a slave.” I would defend Addy and tell them that they were wrong, but if anything that made them more antagonistic towards her and me.

I was a very shy, anxious, soft-spoken kid, and so thinking about telling an adult made me want to vomit my Caprisun. The adults of my elementary school were also extremely dismissive of me anyway in some cases, and would become annoyed with me for reasons I won’t get into, other than that I was a “problem” child as a kid due to my home situation, being bullied, and not being accommodated in school for my disabilities. I knew I wasn’t going to be taken seriously by my teachers, and I didn’t want to gather up the courage to open up to one of them only to be dismissed. There were some adults that did see what was going on and would tell the girls to stop, but more often than not when the adults did witness the girls making fun of me, they’d turn the other way, or even condone it. Many adults asked me why I didn’t want a doll that looked like me, or asked why I didn’t want a “pretty doll.” There would be adults who would warn me that I would ruin Addy’s hair and that Addy’s hair was to difficult for me to take care of. Adults would often try to sway me to like another doll, usually a white, blonde-haired one.

I began to keep my love for Addy a secret. As an elementary schooler, I didn’t understand why everyone was upset with me for loving Addy, but the reactions from the people around me made me feel as though there was something wrong with myself. There wasn’t really anyone telling me that the people being racist towards Addy were the problem and that I was not the issue. My eight-year-old brain basically came to the conclusion that people wouldn’t be yelling at me if I wasn’t doing something wrong, and for a while, I felt ashamed for loving Addy. I still did love her however, and I would quietly stare at her page in the catalog for hours, becoming extremely upset with the fact that I would never have her. I adored all her outfits, they reminded me of the ones my mother and grandmother would sew for me. I wanted her Christmas Dress, Sunday Best, and Nightgown especially. I begged for a nightgown so I could be like Addy. I wanted Ida Bean and Addy’s lace-up boots. Basically, anything Addy related? I wanted badly, but I always kept it a tight secret.

An activity my family would often partake in growing up was going to the thrift store during half-off weeks. On one of these trips, my mother found quite a few historical American Girl books, including a copy of Meet Addy and Changes For Addy. There was also a copy of Merry Christmas Kit, Molly Saves the Day, Meet Felicity, etc... But I was extremely excited for the Addy books in particular. I carried my copy of Meet Addy everywhere, from the time I was in about fourth grade, until the time I was eventually pulled out of public school in the middle of grade seven. I always had it in my backpack, and I was to busy reading it to pay attention to the kids who liked to make fun of me (or my teacher trying to teach me for that matter, my book got taken up on multiple occasions.). Meet Addy and Changes For Addy were the only Addy books I was able to read until recently, except for the times I would skim through her books when my mother went to the library. Only this past year have I been able to actually sit down and read her entire central series rather than skimming/reading random chapters.

Addy’s books were my only meaningful education on slavery and the Civil War for a long time. Before I was homeschooled, my education on the topics were often skittered around, or had details omitted to make my state appear less complicit (Where I live, all history education in public school revolves around our state, excluding things such as world history. At least it did when I went to public school.). My elementary school only had thirty minutes of allotted time for history or science instruction, and even then it was treated as optional instruction. The allotted time slot was often used for extra math instruction, test prep, or free time. I’ve had to retake much of my history education when I became homeschooled, because the education I received in public school was poor. Before Addy's books, I had been taught that ‘slavery wasn’t that bad,’ and my first actual look into the topic came from her series. My only meaningful history instruction for a long time came from the American Girl books, but Addy’s were especially important due to how little education I got on the topics of slavery and the Civil War, and also due to how much misinformation I was taught when we did discuss these topics in class.

Addy’s books made me love her even more, and she was definitely one of my first crushes as an elementary schooler. I thought she was beautiful and strong, and I wanted more than anything to be like her. All my pink dresses became “Addy dresses” and I would pretend to dress up as her. I liked to draw her and write stories about her. My grandmother at one point gave me a doll outfit that was (coincidently?) extremely similar to one in an illustration in Addy’s book, and I loved it to pieces. I somehow found out about Addy’s stilting outfit, and that started my multiple-year fascination with stilts and begging my parents for them (I never got them). I learned to play mancala primarily because of Addy (and also for the fact that the kids at my summer camp that year based your popularity off of if you could play or not).

Addy was a strong character who was both a child and a girl, which I didn’t see much of, and I looked up to her immensely. She was also black, and although I’m not, seeing a strong girl character who was also in a minority meant a lot to me as a disabled kid. I was used to reading books about white, able body boys who were tough and strong, I rarely saw books that had girls who were strong, and if I did they were often adults, as well as able body and/or white. The disability representation in Addy’s books was also extremely well written, especially in comparison to much of the disability “representation” I was exposed to as a kid. I liked to read the chapters with M’Dear in Happy Birthday Addy, or the later books with Sam whenever my mother took me to the library. I was used to disabled characters “overcoming”, or being pitied in the books I would read, but M’Dear and Sam weren’t like that.

Eventually, I grew up never receiving Addy, and was pressured to put my dolls away. It wasn’t until a couple years later I would bring my dolls back out. My sister had her own American Girls at that point, so there was no weird obligation to let her play with my old ones, and I was no longer in public school where I would be made fun of for liking dolls. I had missed my dolls all the years they had been put away/given to my sister and I was so happy to finally have them back. After a while of having my dolls returned to me, Melody was released, which is really what completely brought me back into American Girls. Growing up, I wanted a Civil Rights American Girl badly. I am neurodivergent, and as a kid, I had a hyperfixation with the Civil Rights Movement. I wanted a Civil Rights American Girl almost as much as I wanted Addy, Kirsten, and Cecile, but she didn’t exist yet.

I immediately knew that I wanted both Melody and Addy in my collection as soon as possible (I had gotten Kirsten at that point. I wanted Cecile as well, but she wasn’t at the top of my mind as she is retired.). Although I no longer had a strange sense of reputation to uphold with my peers at public school, I did have a girlfriend. As a young teenager, I was so enamoured with the thought of having a girlfriend, that I often rushed into relationships with extremely toxic people, and this girl was no different. Aside from the usual “dolls are creepy” narrative, she also told me that she found Melody and Addy to be racist and that they offended her. She was very adamant that she would break up with me if I got Melody or Addy, and this scared my young teenage self who wanted a girlfriend (To this day, I do not know her exact issue with Melody.). I still got Melody that year, unbeknownst to her. I kept Melody a well hidden secret from her, but she had scared me enough to where I was afraid to get Addy at all. At this point I had started researching Addy constantly, and I knew the discourse surrounding her. I didn’t want to make my girlfriend at the time upset, so I held off on getting her. I have an AG store close to where I live, and I went a couple times after getting Melody and every single time I wanted more than anything to get Addy.

It would be a couple years before I would get Addy, as I got her this past January. I had started to become very antsy to get her, and in my wait for her had welcomed both Nellie and Josefina into my collection. About last September however, I made the mistake of bringing up how much I wanted Addy on an activism account I ran on Instagram, and immediately had people flooding me with all the usual Addy discourse. It took a long time to recover from that, and I had to shut down that account for a couple months. Since then everyone has cooled down about Addy, and I have some people who even follow me specifically for Addy. I’m not ashamed to admit that account has turned into more of an Addy Appreciation Account rather than an activism account.

My quest to find the perfect Addy became all I would talk and think about. If you were within a mile of me, you KNEW that I wanted Addy, and I wanted her badly. Shout out to my friends who allowed me to talk from sunrise to sunset about Addy with no breaks for multiple weeks in a row. I was constantly looking on second hand sites, thrift stores, anywhere I could to find the Addy I wanted. I had my heart set on buying a pre-Beforever Addy at that point, and I was doing everything to find a listing that was affordable and that I loved. Then came the day where I found an Addy listing that I immediately fell in love with. I don’t know what exactly it was about the listing, but I wanted THAT Addy. Unfortunately, the site wouldn’t let me check out and I was incredibly upset to the point where I had multiple of my own friends, and even people I didn’t know on my Instagram account mentioned earlier offer to buy me an Addy doll. My “activism” account is relatively large, and there was a group of people ready to all chip in and help get me Addy. I had people ask if they could buy the listing that I wanted, and then ship her to me. Addy was all I could talk about at that point, and I had only talked about her/posted about her for at least a month. It only made me more upset to find out that the listing I had wanted had been sold. Plot twist! It was my mother who bought her.

(This is the first photo I ever took with Addy, I didn’t think I had saved it, but my friend did!)

I cried for about two weeks until she arrived. I was so happy I was finally going to have Addy, I couldn’t believe it. I thought for so long that I would never be able to have her. When she finally arrived it was love at first sight. I didn’t cry immediately upon unboxing her, I was trying to keep my composure, as I was filming unboxing her to put on my Instagram. Mostly so my friends could see, but also because I wanted to keep the moment, and because some of my followers were interested. I cried after turning the camera off, however. For the next couple of months I was extremely protective of my doll, I had the fear that she was just going to be taken away from me again. I took her everywhere with me around the house, she slept with me, ate dinner with me, would attend my online classes and sweep the porch with me. I didn’t like going out in public when I couldn’t have Addy nearby, I still don’t really, not that it’s much of an issue as we are quarantined for the time being. I’m planning on getting a mini Addy that I can keep in my purse sometime.

Addy doesn’t stay on my shelf with my other dolls, she sits on my bed. Someday I hope to have her complete collection. That’s a far off, possibly unreasonable goal, but I don’t mind. My more attainable goal is to read all of Addy’s books, which I’m about halfway through doing. I recently got my first official Addy dress, her Christmas Dress, which she is currently sporting as we speak.

#american girl doll #american girl #addy walker #ag doll #dolls of color #ag #dolls

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