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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease. Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there. To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door. He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open. Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees. He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast. Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out. After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget. Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either. Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on. He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic. The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money. They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel. Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch. “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath. She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact. He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident. “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about. Presents. What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers? Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea. Because Yakko is smart. Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin. “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink. Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes. They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

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By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling. Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through. Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day. Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great. She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her. She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall. Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal! By my own siblings no less! Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead. Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand. Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot! I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean. He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk. Who needs lactose?

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That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal. The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still. Who doesn’t love winter? It has Christmas! And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside. She wants to play in the snow. She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs. She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern. Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise. Because it will be. He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch. He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine. It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end. Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is. Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day. Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?”

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

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They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually. Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside. We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride? They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay? They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here. It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then. Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates. Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad. Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes. He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow. Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting. Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen. He shuffles over himself. Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before. “My gift to you is your menu of choice. The whole day, a la carte menu. Whatever you guys want, I’ll make. So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift. Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother. But, uh, let me make Dot’s first? Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin.

After that, they open up the presents under the tree. Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt. He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained. Wakko thinks he knows why. Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all. There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity. She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end. She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too. He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others. He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley. He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping.

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside. Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket. “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world. “Make me uncomfortable. Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that. Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not? Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection! He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand. But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves. “I...have to prepare my gift for you. Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs. Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out. He’d checked, double checked, triple checked. If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound. Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes. His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar. From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious. “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants. He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her. Dot throws some back. Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother. Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #kitkat1003 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #christmas fic #tower tales

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theseerasures · 3 years

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Which part specifically? I mean, yeah, the whole game is a disaster, but I'd love to hear specific points. There was so much I didn't like about Fates that it just collectively merges as 'bad' in my mind.

it's not really anything specific tbh!! because the way Fates is misogynistic is not different from the way the other Fire Emblems (that i’ve. played. it’s possible all the ones pre-Sacred Stones were actually Forbidden Feminist Utopias) also carry that unmistakable whiff of misogyny. it's not done out of malice, it's just...a franchise that loves to play high fantasy tropes straight, particularly the bit about Restoring the Good Monarch. i never got the sense that they thought hard about the fact that the dude protags (Ephraim, Ike, Chrom) get intricate coming of age stories about tempering their talents for murder with wisdom, while all the lady "protags" (Eirika, Elincia, Micaiah) mostly don't change at all and just kinda swan around doing the "we are ethereal maidens too good for this sinful earth" thing, and when they do wibble it's always about how they wish they could be as "strong" as their dude counterparts except they inevitably can't and don't want to be, because war is bad!!! there's too much war in this war game franchise, buy our next DLC for how to solve war with war

(Lucina's a weird case, but that's why i love her, and...i suspect the only reason Lucina got to be the way she is was because she was doing DRAG, which is a rabbit hole that we don't have time for.)

Fates (sidebar: i played Revelations but i know what happens in Birthright and Conquest. i ended up doing all the Paralogues, because i was morbidly curious about how many different ways you could tell a "no dad!!! it's your dream" story, and the answer was "around four, so spreading them across TWENTY ONE versions basically creates the story equivalent of ultra skim milk.") doesn't do anything functionally different from its predecessors, it's just...more egregious this time, because so much of the story feels exclusively catered to drawing attention to it. i get the sense that the devs were trying to aim for bigger, more sophisticated storytelling than what they did with Awakening, which is why we got Fire Emblem: More Royals Than Ever and the requisite chin-stroking about families of blood vs. families of choice, but that they were trying to be Deep (tm) just made the parts that have always been shallow in the franchise look uglier.

i'm just gonna talk about the Royals, because the story privileges the Royals to a truly mind-bending degree (see above: high fantasy, monarchism). with the Royals we have:

the Hoshido/Nohr sibling matchy-matchy that is eerie from the outset (did Sumeragi and Garon set TIMERS so they'd impregnate women at roughly the same time and murder the babies who didn't come out the right gender?), even before you get to the part where they are "foils" for each other in p much aesthetic only, since their personalities are not actually that different when you get down to it. you have the Dutiful Big Bro (Xander and Ryoma), the Closeted Lesbian Big Sis (Camilla and Hinoka, representing opposite ends of the gender presentation spectrum), the Insecure Lil Bro (Takumi and Leo), and the Incorruptibly Pure Lil Sis (Sakura and Elise, the latter of whom for her crime of being outgoing was punished with death in Birthright, which...yikes)

so like. extremely paint by numbers right from conception (heh). why couldn't Xander have been the one who was Naive and Not Ready for This World? because he is Boy, which means he can only be flawed in the Boy Ways, so he must be Too Worldly instead. why couldn't Camilla be the oldest? she's already jaded and weird, so why not make her the heir just to shake things up? because she is Girl and Too Weird and Wearing BLACK, and weird girls in black can't be queen--even if Xander dies, she can't be queen.

Azura is clearly supposed to The Chrom Surrogate of this game insofar as she's your blue haired pal with whom you share a destiny, but she is The Chrom Surrogate but MAXIMUM GIRL, so she's the quintessential non-combatant class, she has a special song that soothes the hearts of warriors, she LITERALLY DIES FOR THE PEACE (TM) IN BIRTHRIGHT AND CONQUEST. (and obviously her hair can't be the Fire Emblem Classic shade of blue--that's too masculine.)

wrt the second gen, lineage is passed through the dad in the eugenics factory this time, which is on paper a fine shakeup from in Awakening, but...ALL the definitely-royal second gens are boys? don't get me wrong: i actually adore what they did with Forrest--like, fucking superb u gender-nonconforming fashion-loving Prince of Peace--but Forrest being an actually interesting inversion of what we expect (that isn't played for laughs!!!) makes all the other boys come off as much blander than they could be. why can't Kiragi be a dirt and hunting loving GIRL? i love Shiro's supports with Kana, but his whole "boisterous laid back but also inferiority complex" deal would be much less tired if he were the Crown Princess instead of Prince. i suppose if Siegbert were Girl with Anxiety and Kingship he'd just...be Lucina, but that's not necessarily a bad thing!!! bitches love Lucina!! (i'm bitches)

the thing is all of this would be...well. not FINE, but more acceptable if they did some things to flesh out those cookie-cutter personalities. Fates didn't deliver for any of the Royals to the extent i wanted it to, but even for what we had the girls got markedly less than the boys did. the moment that made me go "hoo boy maybe i will make poast about this" was in the climax when all the Five Whatevers lit up to form the Fire Emblem and we got some nice concept art of Takumi Leo Ryoma and Xander making :O faces, while the girls...were also there! in Revelation i'm pretty sure you can cut out Camilla Hinoka Elise and Sakura and leave the plot basically unchanged. you could say they fare better in Birthright and Conquest, but you could just as easily say they fare WORSE, because what they get to do if they're NPCs in those routes are: be sad and die, be sad and be spared from dying, be sad and get even weirder before being spared from dying, or be sad.

Camilla and Hinoka feel like the most wasted potential, because we haven't had as many "female royal who is actually pretty down with murder" characters before. but the devs clearly had no idea with what to DO with that, so (outside of her daddy and mommy issues, the details of which we learn about via supports with Niles the resident sex pest and hoo boy the "queer rep" in this game is whole other can of worms) Camilla became your momsistergirlfriend with built-in innovative airbag technology, whose creepiness is played for laughs, and Hinoka was...wait which one was Hinoka again

i am partly just being glib for comic effect, but like--the underlying problems are there, no matter how seriously or generously you want to read it. Fates doesn't go out of its way to mistreat its women; it just doesn't expend any effort thinking about them, so the misogyny breaks loose and stands out anyway.

#Anonymous #fire emblem

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captainsimagines · 3 years

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Titanic || H.S

Part Five || “No Me Queda Mas”

Disclaimer: I do not own the pictures I use for title cards. Obviously.

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

“Exactly. But if you jump, I’m gonna have to jump in there after you.“

Both Harry and Drake were up by seven in the morning, energetic and absolutely starving. They made sure to dress as quietly as they could, careful not to wake their other two roommates. They were men of the same age, around their late twenties, heading to the states to escape religious persecution. They had arrived later that day after they had picked up the remaining passengers from Ireland, both men talkative and equally as excited to start a new life. The four men chatted into the deep hours of the night and discussed a variety of topics. Perhaps the funnest topic they covered was women.

The two men were traveling with their girlfriends and since they were not legally married, they had to bunk in separate living quarters. Except their boyfriends had splurged what money they could to give them the best comfort as possible, and Harry learned their girlfriends were staying as second-class passengers. Drake made the joke about how first and second class weren’t all that different, and that these boys were living every poor man’s dream of being with a woman of practical royalty.

“They scream louder than any woman.”

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned.

“I mean,” Drake nudged his shoulder playfully, “they’re so touch-deprived that they practically melt from any man’s touch.”

“Man, shut the hell up!”

Everyone continued to joke and tease, and Harry wondered if that was indeed true. He had only been with two other women before - his first when he was seventeen and a woman he thought he loved at the age of twenty-four. He prided himself on the noises he caused, but he didn’t quite understand what Drake meant. Did upper-class women really not experience pleasure as often as women in love? Did upper-class women even fall in love? Do upper-class men not know how to perform? He understood the point of the joke, and although slightly misogynistic, Harry pondered on the societal gossip that sometimes proved true. It wasn’t like he was ever going to experience it to compare.

He and Drake tip-toed outside their room and locked it behind them. Breakfast was available until ten, but they wanted first dibs on the freshest stuff there.

It was a buffet style breakfast. They stacked their trays up high, first come - first serve, with buttered bread, sugar cookies, chicken noodle soup, and milk.

“They’re holding out on us. I saw them lugging buckets of grapes and strawberries up to first-class.”

Harry chuckled and sipped his milk, “Because they’re first-class.”

“Either way, this bread is delicious.”

And over breakfast they chatted about their past trips, skills, family, and aspirations. If it was possible, Drake spoke more than Harry. Once a conversation reached its end, Drake would easily glide into a new one. It was quite refreshing to speak to someone who didn’t shut you down or didn’t know how to carry a conversation. Harry paused Drake, however, when he mentioned that he was a trained carpenter.

“You build things?”

“Buildings. I build buildings.”

Harry shoved him, “That’s what I meant!”

Drake laughed along, “Yeah, my father was a carpenter. I built my Montana ranch from the ground up with my own two hands.”

Harry felt like meeting Drake was fate. Now he didn’t have to grovel and beg some New York carpenter to oversee the construction of a London business. If Drake agreed to help Harry build his bakery, he would at least trust the process more. A few sips of soup and some sugar cookies later and Harry considered Drake a closer friend than those he met on the playground.

“I have a proposition.”

“Well, Mr. Capitalist, I’m all ears.”

Harry grinned, “Would you like to help me build my family’s bakery? I would pay you generously and provide you housing during your extended stay in New York.”

Drake mimicked the act of deep thought, leaning forward and swishing around his cup of milk. “Hmm, a generous offer.”

“Or do you have to be back in Montana immediately?”

Please don’t. Please don’t. Please don’t.

“My brother has the ranch covered. I can write to him and let him know I’ll be bringing in a little extra cash.”

Harry jumped in his seat like an excited child, “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Drake chuckled and tried not to spill his milk as Harry shook his shoulders excitedly.

Drake was around five years older than Harry, thirty-two and thriving, so it made sense that he had this feeling of being an older brother to Harry. He was actually the youngest of his siblings, having older brothers at his side since birth. It was a blessing, and in a weird twist of plot, he felt like an attentive older brother sat here at breakfast. The way Harry’s bright smile lit up any room and the way he acted as if everything happened for a reason - he was almost tempted to give this kid the rest of his sugar cookies.

“Sure, man. I trust you’ll pay me.”

Harry nodded and while overflowing with joy, he slid his sketchbook in front of Drake and began reviewing the first couple sketches of the type of building he had in mind.

You had been kept up late by your mother’s final walk-through of your stay room, complaining there were not enough towels and not enough space for your accessories on the bedside table. She acknowledged the vastness of the ship and its wonderful hospitality, but there was always something wrong in her mind. And all you could do was nod your head as you sat impatiently in the side chair as she worked the midnight crew through each fix.

So excuse your slow responses and tiny yawns at breakfast. The tables were beginning to clear out, with many still entering for early tea or a late meal. The breeze passed through the open doors and nipped at your cheeks, waking you up slightly from the boring chatter.

As the others spoke, you couldn’t help but think about yesterday and what weird a kiss you and Cal had shared. Was it supposed to feel good? You knew Cal had other women before as he was turning thirty-six just a week after your scheduled wedding. He was never so playful, especially not in front of waiting staff, so you pondered what that change in attitude could possibly mean. Or perhaps you were thinking too much, and he really just had a lapse in judgement.

You could make out talk about the weather, America’s current stock market, and ideas about what the cooks were going to prepare later today. Speak on topics that never interested you and never will interest you carried on for a few more minutes before everyone began ordering their second course. You pulled a cigarette and its holder from your handbag, expertly placed the cigarette inside the silver and inhaled the cooled, mellowed smoke. It woke you up instantly, also calming any nerves from the night before.

You didn’t like when Cal smoked and dusted your flooring, but the presence of a holder made all the difference. No mess, no stains on your fingers - just tranquility.

Your mother cleared her throat quietly as to only alert you, watching the other occupants of your table carry on with their conversation. She unfolded her napkin and placed it carefully across her lap. “You know I don’t like when you do that in public.”

Instead of rolling your eyes at her absurd worry, you inhaled the smoke deeply and exhaled across her view, clouding her face in your personal stress release. It was a power move, a move that you were allowed to execute since she was in control of literally every other aspect of your life. A little smoke shouldn’t anger her as much as it did, but any ounce of independence you still displayed could be interpreted as plain disobedience. And disobedience of your own family meant it resulted in disobedience within a marriage. But before you could establish dominance in one area of your life - your own body - Cal reached over to pull the cigarette from its holder and extinguished it on one of the side plates. You narrowed your eyes, ashamed of the control he proved he had.

“She knows,” Cal chuckled, ignoring your look of embarrassment and instead calling over the waiter who was making his rounds.

A woman you had met briefly yesterday as she boarded from Ireland, Molly, was invited to sit at your breakfast table by one of the men here, yet you couldn’t remember which one. She was a small woman, dressed in a comfortable dress that didn’t quite match the occasion of a late breakfast, but she wore it proudly. She was sweet, strong-willed, and almost always proved louder than anyone else in the room. You liked her personality as it was entirely different from everyone else you had ever met. Although your mother called her “new money” with a nasty grimace on her face, you only saw her for what she was - independent and vocal.

But here you were now, being dehumanized in front of practical strangers, and you looked up to see Molly’s surprised expression. She lowered her arm to extinguish her own cigarette on her ashtray. To continue smoking freely after you had been refused your tiny refuge seemed wrong, improper even. But you didn’t acknowledge her action, ears perking up as Cal restated your breakfast order.

“We’ll both have the lamb, rare, with very little mint sauce.”

You absolutely hated lamb. Any type of meat, really, and the thought of having to stuff it down so you wouldn’t starve maddened you.

“You like lamb, right Sweetpea?”

You plastered a thin, wide smile as you turned to your fiancé, your face almost comical and proving so as Cal took it as a real ‘yes’.

By now your little squabble had gained attention from all at your table. Molly began laughing loudly to cut through the tension, raising her water glass to take a quick sip.

“You gonna cut and chew her meat there too, huh Cal?”

Your mother turned to her sharply but Molly was unmoved, deciding to change the subject to something more interesting. Cal interlocked his fingers together and rested his hands above his belt buckle, looking across the table at Molly with a more calm look compared to your mother, but still hardened with displeasure.

“Say, who thought of the name ‘Titanic’? Was it you, Bruce?” Molly asked.

Bruce Ismay, the chairman of the White Star Line, seemed ecstatic to receive questions about the ship. As of that month, it was his greatest accomplishment and current world wonder, his newborn creation that deserved any and all praise given. He nodded happily and swallowed the piece of fruit hurriedly to answer Molly’s question.

“Yes, yes,” he answered, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. “Mr. Andrews here built her from the ground up!”

Thomas Andrews, a shipbuilder and main architect for Titanic, was shy with any compliment he received, deciding to accept the praise quickly and return the attention back to Ismay. “But the idea was all Mr. Ismay’s! He envisioned a liner so grand in scale...”

You began to drown the conversation out. Cal insisted on dining with specific groups of people. From your point of view, it worked almost like a ranking. Ismay and Andrews were certainly important people on this ship and had first hand experience with such social circles, but they were no John Jacob Astor. The most Cal and your mother did was share morning greetings with Astor, who dined with his wife in a more private section of the same dining hall. Cal had always maintained your titles of royalty, saying that only a few dollars here and there separated you from a higher connection. And at dinner time your group expanded, including around ten others who were just as respectable.

“I wanted to convey sheer size with her name! And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength,” Ismay spoke.

You sucked in a low breath, ready to make a select few laugh and others seethe. “Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?”

Mr. Ismay turned to you in silent astonishment, surprised by the first complete sentence you had spoken all breakfast. But he smiled and shook his head ‘no’ at the name. You felt your mother reach her hand under the table to cup your arm.

“His opinion about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you.”

Your mother’s fingernails dug deep into your forearm. “What has gotten into you?”

But Molly and Mr. Andrews enjoyed your comment, laughing under their breaths.

You smiled sweetly and tore your arm away from your mother, standing and excusing yourself from the table. Both Mr. Ismay and Mr. Andrews stood out of respect for your departure. You exited the room to walk out on deck.

Cal took in slow breaths to steady his rising anger, avoiding other’s eyes so that they wouldn’t notice the effect you had on him. But Molly, with her rapid wit and steady toughness, wouldn’t let Cal live this down.

“She’s a pistol, Cal. Hope you can handle her!”

Cal crinkled his eyes and chuckled as to brush off your misbehavior. “I might just have to mind what she reads from now on, don’t I?”

Mr. Ismay sat down and readjusted his tie. “Freud, who is he? Is he a passenger?”

It was bullshit that third-class passengers were barred from touring certain areas of the ship. All Harry wanted was a better view of the ship’s structure so he could outline it. He mainly drew portraits but he had promised his mother he would show her his drawings of the best parts of the ship, like the grand staircase, fashion, the giant steam funnels, even the food. But third-class passengers weren’t allowed in first-class areas without the proper approval, having to eat from a choice of about four foods each day and reduced to simply imagining what the giant clock looked like.

So Harry doodled anything he found interesting - the dogs who traveled down to third-class to take a shit, the coast of Ireland as Titanic sailed past, and third-class passengers with their children, card games, and instruments. He was currently drawing a man holding his daughter up against the railing to see the water, focusing on the detail of their clothing and their happy expressions. Drake watched Harry work his magic, grinning every single time Harry drew the next precise detail accurately. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge, but Drake swore that every human wanted to have this specific talent. Anyone who disagreed wasn’t human.

“I can’t believe you got the eyes right,” Drake scoffed, inhaling smoke from his reduced cigarette.

Harry grinned at the comment, smudging the charcoal over the two foreheads to create the shading. Looking from the models to his paper, he completed another detail that impressed his friend. He was almost finished, brushing his index finger over certain parts. Drake greeted some friends he met at last night’s dinner as they walked past and rested in the surrounding benches. He motioned them over to Harry’s work.

Drake nodded in approval at all the compliments Harry received, “Do you make any money off your drawings?”

It’s quite possibly every artist’s worst nightmare, to scribble incorrectly over a good drawing, completely ruining the fine detail it took too long to accomplish. But as Harry’s pencil scraped over that crumpled piece of paper, the air around him and the water under him spoke to his artistic desires, telling him to wreak havoc on his flimsy sheet and to never stop. The somewhat endless black line did indeed stop once it reached the edge and to the fabric of his tan pants, leaving a light but visible charcoal mesh on his only pair. His eyes, as well as his clouded mind, ignored his major mistake and instead focused on the yellow fabric that begged to flap higher in the cool, ocean breeze.

His eyes traveled through every detail- the white lace clinging to the base yellow, the pearls hugging your waistline and wrapping around your backside to function as buttons, the baroque beauty of your neck and the lace wrapped around it, your brown skin glistening underneath the sun, and your red lips sculpted into a memorable pout - all of it entered Harry’s viewpoint in what seemed like forever but only took a mere second. One glorious second for Harry to stumble into a world he knew he could never abandon. The curl in your hair, the frown on your face, the gentle nature of your grip on the forbidden first-class railing - all of it a disastrous craving that would for sure develop into a blister on the lip if Harry didn’t get a smell of your lavish locks and accidentally brush the tip of his nose against the priceless diamonds draped through each curl, or get a taste of the red syrup staining your plump lips and accidentally bite it a little too hard to muster a moan of pleasure rich women kill to produce, or get to feel the touch of your fingertips against his palms, his face, his chest, his back as you left streaks of bright red. These prohibited images knocked against the padded confines of his thick skull and he felt like he completely violated the law with such an absurd idea.

But as you furrowed your eyebrows and focused on another focal point - Harry himself - he felt as if every inch of your being was worth being imprisoned for. His forbidden sweet creature.

You stared at the stranger briefly before looking back at the waves beyond the bow of the ship. Yet, you continued to feel his powerful gaze. You didn’t feel uncomfortable with his locked stare, but you wondered if he was possessed, spiraling through a trance that you had become a victim of. Was his gaze good or bad? Was he seriously entranced or judging your physique? Walking away would break the spell, but you stayed glued to the railing for some reason, watching the waves make way for Titanic’s many entrances.

You heard the voice in your head instruct your view to stay on the water, but you disobeyed for once, unaware of such a lovely decision until you locked eyes with your third-class admirer. You have always gotten attention from anyone you encountered, both pleasant and unpleasant, but attention nonetheless. And the waves of this particular admiration traveled through the misty breeze and onto your blushed cheeks, pinching them with a silent yelp, a plea, an almost beggarly request for your consideration. So you obliged its want, gazing across the third-class gatherings to the man sitting on one of the few benches on deck, surrounded by confused and teasing passengers who looked between you and him, wondering if you were going to break first from the rare situation. A situation that many never considered legitimate, possible, or even appropriate. But the lot of you were on the blue waves and the bubbly foam and the impressive craft of a thousand good Irishmen that welcomed the rare and extraordinary.

He was attractive - his short hair dancing in the air one curl at a time, his broad form rising to sit up straight when he realized you were also admiring him, and his eyes never blinking as to not miss anything you might do. And he had this magnetic pull, almost as if he was screaming at you to come down and speak with him. You felt somewhat disgusted with yourself, imagining a normal conversation with a normal person, a very handsome person, whose gaze alone made you feel a tingle at your fingertips and caused a tiny grin to break on your face. It wasn’t appropriate to be thinking of another man this way when you had never felt this way for the man you were to marry. And yesterday’s kiss did not equate to the powerful senses you were currently experiencing.

You hoped he didn’t see your grin, but Harry did. He caught it instantly, his heart pounding and his hands instructing him to quickly sketch the curve.

By now Drake was waving a hand over Harry’s face to see if that broke off his view, but Harry simply leaned forward, unaware of the obstruction and oh so enchanted by that tiny grin you hadn’t dropped.

“Oh, forget it, Harry! It’s like angels flying out your ass to get next to the likes of her.”

To be seen, thought of, recognized as a human being and not glossed over as some extra - the recognition of plain existence excited you to new extremes. And just as your mind told you to unlock the first-class gate and venture over to your admirer, real life interrupted in the form of Cal’s tamed grip on your upper arm.

You dropped your gaze quickly, hoping Cal did not realize your original viewpoint, and looked down at the unwanted physical connection between you.

"Why must you defy your mother’s orders and misbehave in front of friends?”

You pulled yourself away from his tightening grip. “I have already received this lecture from my own mother. I do not need to hear it again.”

Cal let out a low chuckle, “Then why must you not listen? You embarrassed me.”

You fought the urge to yell and relay yet another disapproving tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m not feeling well this morning.”

And with that fake apology, Cal hummed in sympathy and tugged you in for a short hug. “Why didn’t you just say so? It could have saved us the humiliation.”

You sucked in a harsh breath at his choice of words to avoid the frustrated tears, pulling away and patting his chest as you excused yourself to your stay room. He groaned as he suspected he had done something else wrong, but did not dare to follow you this time.

Drake shook his head in discontent, “A man like that should be grateful to have a woman like her.”

Other passengers shared their agreement, whistling and all. They teased Harry and shoved him playfully, congratulating him for the impossible. And as you walked from Harry’s eyesight back into the ship, he rejoined the conversation briefly before he began a simple illustration of your eyes.

Drake sat back down on the same bench as Harry as all the chatter died down, looking over at Harry’s paper. He rolled his eyes and smiled.

“She really did a number on you, huh? I’m all for going after the unreachable but this is truly unreachable, boy-yo.”

Harry stopped his tracing to look up at Drake, “I know… but she saw me, too.”

Drake furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if Harry was simply awestruck or serious. And with a slight chuckle of disbelief, Drake muttered, “that she did.”

A moment passed before Drake spoke again, deciding on letting Harry live in his little fantasy for the rest of the day. He tapped Harry’s stack of papers with his index finger. “I’m sure you’ll do her justice.”

And Harry did.

If you stood in the middle of the room and screamed at the top of your lungs, you were certain no one would even look up. Because besides your impressive attitude you were known for, your problems seemed minuscule compared to others. No one seemed to piece together why you were the way you were, opting for society’s sexist explanations instead of simply asking you.

Just a few hours ago you were seen and not looked over quickly - you felt appreciated and noticed. Now, even in a room with hundreds of people and many sat at the same table as you, you weren’t even acknowledged. Perhaps it was because you never spoke - you couldn’t blame them for not noticing you then. But then again, when you did speak and Cal silenced or interrupted you, discrediting even opinions, no one minded.

They were the same endless parties, the same narrow people, and the same mindless chatter. Like they flipped a switch each night and wiped their slate clean, ready for the same routine the very next day with no complaints at all. And it frightened you that this would remain your routine, the same routine you had already lived for twenty-two years, with no way out and no ‘off’ button.

You felt as if you were floating away, heavy and lightweight at the same time, feeling yourself blink every few minutes. Your eyes focused on one point - the ashtray in the middle of the rounded table, even as people from surrounding tables came to greet your mother and Cal. You kept track of time by the impressive height of the gray ash, some landing outside the tray and onto plates. It grew higher… and higher… and your food was barely picked at, Cal was reaching over you every so often to tap his cigarette on the tray, and your mother was on her fourth glass of champagne.

They didn’t see that you weren’t eating. How does someone not notice that someone isn’t eating at a dinner?

You reached over for your champagne glass, your hand shaking slightly as you downed the rest of it. Everyone’s voices were becoming silent, like you were covering both ears or going deaf, and as Cal reached over to give you a kiss on the cheek, your eyes were suddenly heavy.

“Please, excuse me, Cal. I need to run to our room really quickly.”

Cal paused his conversation with Astor to turn to you. “Are you alright? Would you like me to escort you to the cabin?”

And you smiled, “I’ll be fine.”

It was a really nice gesture, but in Cal’s mind it was simple chivalry.

You stood up, your feet sore and the nerves bunching together throughout your legs. The laughter seemed to grow as you exited, and now those nerves shocked you into running.

You barged into your stay room, ignoring the obvious worry the staff gave you, their questions of tea or more blankets flying over your head. You simply speed-walked past them, hiding your face behind your curls so they would not see your very real tears, staining the powder on your cheeks and leaving visible streaks lighter than your natural color. You leaned back on the door and tried to drown out the drunken laughs and loud violins. Controlling your breathing was easy at first until you opened your eyes and saw a mass explosion of gold, the intricate designs of each piece of cloth, the carvings in the wood encasing your mirror, your freshly made bed that Cal had jokingly suggested he’d crawl into late at night. You swallowed the itch in your throat, walking to the make-up table to drop the pins you began tearing from your hair. One-by-one you let each curl fall to your shoulder, their lost weight causing your headband of diamonds to fall to the floor. You silently deliberated what the name of your maid was, cursing yourself for forgetting when she had so nicely introduced herself last night. But then her name slid from your tongue, and you almost cried from the sudden joy.

“Trudy?” you called, starting to hyperventilate. “Trudy?”

You reached behind you to unbutton your dress, but your shoulders just wouldn’t bend far enough. Suffocated, you clawed at the loose hanging jewels instead, pinching and stretching the skin on your back that you could reach.

“Trudy!” you began to choke on your breath, yelling louder each time you called the maid. So you tugged and ripped the silver necklace from your neck, threw your jewelry box across the room, and tossed a few perfume bottles you had packed so delicately against the wall.

“I can’t... I can’t,” you cried, knees partially crumbling beneath you as you leaned against the chair. You lifted your head to witness your disheveled look, hair a mess and mascara smudged just below your water line. Lips quivering, an intense wave of self-pity and self-hatred drowning your thoughts, exclaiming the few words that actually made it through your sore skull. You listened to them, repeated and mean, basically ordering you to listen and to follow.

“Ya no queda mas.”

There is nothing left.

You were indeed a follower - and you were going to oblige.

And so you abandoned everything, opening your room door and running through the crowded hallway full of oblivious passengers who swam in the bliss of a full stomach and buzzed fingertips and toes.

You ran across the deck to the stern of the ship, careless as to who or what you toppled along the way. Of course everyone took an interest, calling out to see if you needed assistance. But as you left their eyesight, their worry diminished and they assumed someone else would offer a hand. One right after the other, they allowed you to cross their paths and leave it in an instant.

Harry lay on a third-class bench, staring up at the starry night. With a cigarette in one hand and the other stuffed away warmly in his coat pocket, he wondered just exactly where in the hell that damn ‘Big Dipper’ was. Or the little one. Hell, any constellation for that matter. He loved watching the night sky, but the city smog hid most of the stars. Now, with only the steam from the funnels blocking his view, he focused on every star individually, losing track of them as time passed, each one beginning to look the same in size but different in brightness. They formed all kinds of shapes in Harry’s mind, but he could not find those documented ones the astronomers raved on about.

He could have sworn he saw the rectangular shape slightly, its handle coming into existence as the sound of sobbing arrived and left in a flash. He lifted himself up, cigarette hanging from his pink lips and eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He watched as you continued running, pausing to catch your breath at one of the benches.

He recognized that beautiful brown skin anywhere.

His feet hit the deck floor immediately once he saw that you weren’t stopping, instead walking towards the stern railing and looking over into the water. He jogged lightly, careful not to make much noise as you contemplated such a drastic decision. Perhaps you were going to change your mind, step away, take a deep breath and go back to your endless desserts and musical concerts. But he quickly hid behind a pole when you checked to see if anyone had followed you, slightly disappointed in the fact that no one did, and stepped onto the railing and swung a leg over.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, his mind racing and thinking of a way to calmly and safely get you back onto the deck without frightening you. If he were to jump out now, you were for sure going to let go.

You turned around once more and back toward the water, this small gesture of goodbye to the ship and all on it finally settling within you. The waves were dark, not light blue like they were during the daytime. And they sounded louder and more angry, taunting you instead of offering tranquility. The thought of jumping when the sun was out danced around in your head, a more vibrant suicide seeming better suited for your needs.

But maybe you deserved to die in the dark with no other sound besides the unnerving crashing of water and massive propellers in a never ending motion of slicing. You thought about Cal and almost immediately recoiled, the last thought before you died an unhappy thought and not at all what you wanted it to be. Perhaps your mother or your father. Trudy. No one seemed to properly fit, so you settled on the image of your famed racehorse as you leaned away from the railing, hanging off and ready to fall. Your racehorse, dark brown and majestic, waiting for you to come home.

“Don’t do it.”

You gripped the railing tight, unaware that your initial hold was so loose, and you were moments away from leaving your misery behind.

You whipped your head to see who had followed you, stunned that this person was not from the first-class - the class that prides themselves on their selflessness and courage. He was from the third - the class that truly embodied all things selfless and are crucified for it.

“Stay back,” you begged, raising one hand up as if to physically stop him, but you quickly regretted it as you felt the tough winds push you ever so slightly. “Please don’t come near me.”

Harry contemplated his next move, inhaling some final smoke from his cigarette and stepped closer. He showed you the cigarette, stepping towards the railing to throw it overboard.

It was smart, you thought. He was going to come closer, you knew that. But to do it so discreetly as to not scare you - you were kind of grateful.

“Please just leave me alone,” you sobbed, looking back down to the rushing water. “I’ll let go.”

Harry stood dumbfounded, hands in his pockets and worry etched into his face. He remained calm, however, trusting in himself to sweet talk you back over the railing.

He cleared his throat, “No, you won’t.”

You scoffed, newly formed tears threatening to leave your eyes. “What?”

“You won’t do it.”

This time you looked up to the starry sky to gain clearance in thought but were intrigued nonetheless. Either you could snap at him and jump, or you could listen and come back over the railing. All you wanted to do now was sleep, as your head began feeling heavier by the second.

“What are you going on about? Don’t presume to tell me what I will or will not do! You don’t know me.”

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, still trying to calm the situation down as easily as he could. But as your hands turned whiter as your grip strengthened and your voice began to crack, Harry knew he had to convince you this was not the answer.

He didn’t quite understand it - wanting to end your life at such a young age. By the look of your clothes and make-up, Harry could tell you had most material things the people in third-class would kill for. But there were sparkly tears on your waterline, contradicting the image of glory and wealth you so effortlessly portrayed, and the sounds of crashing waves waiting to gobble you up - the sense of you, the mere idea of that glory and wealth, - it absolutely bombarded any quick wit or joke Harry’s mouth was thinking of spitting. All rational from here on out.

“I’m sorry,” Harry spoke, bringing his hands up to breathe warm air into them. “I just don’t want you to experience the dip, is all.”

You stayed silent, staring at him as he stared at you.

“You know the water’s freezing. If you were to survive the fall, the cold would probably hurt more.”

Now your bottom lip quivered and the sudden realization of how cold the night air actually was hit you at that exact moment, and you internally begged for the stranger to step closer. “How cold?”

Harry shrugged, still trying his best to remain casual. “Most likely a couple degrees over.”

You stared at the black abyss beneath you, “I bet that would hurt.”

Harry chuckled lowly, taking the risk and stepping closer to you that a simple turn of the head was enough to see his whole face. And it dawned on you, swiftly and surely, that this was the boy who could not seem to stop staring at you earlier. He was much more handsome up close, and his voice was the final piece of the puzzle. “Exactly. But if you jump, I’m gonna have to jump in there after you.”

You laughed dryly, “You’re crazy. Absurd. The fall alone would kill you.”

Harry smirked to himself, focused on the way your wavy hair flew in all directions. He was getting you to speak more. He was buying time. So, he removed his jacket and warm vest to prove his statement.

“Yeah, it would hurt,” Harry shrugged, finally stepping close enough to hang across the railing with you. He glanced down to your shivering feet, fearful that the heels would unlock themselves and send you free falling. “Trust me, you don’t want to do this-”

“And how do you know that? Maybe I want to… die.” It resonated as a question in both your minds, the sinking sensation overwhelming your chest.

“We all die someday. I think the best part is not knowing when.”

You observed the boy’s face, studying his expression to somehow gain a better explanation as to what he possibly meant. You swallowed more tears, this time speaking in a low whisper.

“I can easily predict when.”

Harry actually felt his stomach clench.

You continued, “It’s probably already planned, with as many as two-hundred guests in attendance, and an open bar.”

Harry shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s difficult to respond to that.”

You gave him a small smile, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Whether you meant that in a sincere or disrespectful way, Harry was hurt by the comment nonetheless.

“I know you’re angry, but trust me,” he redirected, an attempt to forget suicidal intentions and reasons and focus on the actual present moment itself. “Water that cold, like right down there… it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe, can’t think-”

You closed your eyes, eyebrows scrunched and suddenly so very cold. “Okay, please stop.”

Harry watched as your skin produced goosebumps and your grip tightened even more. It was a sign of victory, he thought. “I’m just hoping you’ll save me the swim by coming back over the railing.”

You sighed deeply, the air you expelled turning into the cold breeze itself, mixing with the shaky breaths of the one person on this whole damn ship to hear your screams. And you didn’t even physically cry out.

“Come back with me. Trust me, you don’t wanna do this.”

You reached your arm over to prepare for the turn, but instead of gripping the railing like you expected, a warm hand gripped yours instead, tightly, and his thumb immediately began rubbing your knuckles in a soothing motion. He helped you turn back toward the ship, hands now gripping both of yours.

He smiled up at you, his eyes almost watering from the unnoticed stress that was building within him. You grinned slightly, giving a small shrug of the shoulders as the silence broke.

“I don’t want to go back.”

Harry grasped your hands tighter, “Hey, me neither. Do you know how many rats welcomed me in my cabin yesterday?”

You laughed (somewhere between a laugh and a snort), forgetting momentarily that the two of you were standing in dangerous positions exchanging quiet words.

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I’m Harry Styles.”

“I’m-”

“An absolute blooming rose.”

Your eyes widened momentarily, the moment passing with an awareness of peace from the sudden declaration of recorded beauty. You told him your real name anyway, absolutely loving the way it sounded in a british accent, his british accent, but the ‘blooming rose’ reference remained number one. There, with your body still on the wrong side of the ship and his hands now clutching your upper arm and elbow to begin pulling you over - there you were actually content with your current life.

“Up you go.”

You raised one leg to step up a rail, unaware that the beaded lace part of your dress was longer than the rest. It caused a severe slip, and before you knew what was happening, you were falling. You screamed, one hand barely catching the railing and the other arm suffering Harry’s grip and digging nails.

“Harry!”

Harry cried out in distress, almost going over himself. He locked his feet to the ground and against the ship, thighs pressed against the railing, and attempted to pull you up.

“C’mon, you can do it! You gotta climb, too!”

You followed his instructions, trying to climb the railing like a ladder with your free hand. But as you got higher and your legs remained swinging mindlessly against the wet ship, you slipped lower.

“Help me! Help me, please!” you yelled, to Harry and to anyone else who would hear, the ocean now loud with the outrage of your absence.

Harry could feel his heart exploding from the adrenaline spiking as he looked down at your terrified face, relying solely on him to save your life. The whole time he spoke with you he was frightened of the possibility of you letting go or accidentally falling, but now that he could visibly see that you most certainly did not want to die this way, he was mortified.

“I got you, okay?” Harry waited to shout again until you looked back up to him. “I got you.”

You nodded the best you could, the tears still dripping from your eyes and nose, determined to hear his frightened voice.

“I won’t let go! I promise. Now, pull yourself up!”

It took everything in you to support your own body weight with a corset strangling you at the same time, but you gripped the rails and then Harry’s shoulder. The corset made it more difficult to breathe, but you compiled the last pinches of energy and strength within you and aided Harry in your rescue. You groaned as your knees stabbed into the top bar, but the feeling of Harry’s arms wrapping around your waist to pull you over fully eradicated that pain. You two toppled over onto the safe deck, rolling over each other with a loud thud. Harry stayed glued to your waist while you gripped the deck with your nails.

In such a climactic moment, the two of you didn’t notice three members of the crew running toward you with no clue as to what just occurred.

“What’s all this?”

Your dress had ripped slightly, and due to your bedroom tantrum and the high winds, your hair was in absolute disorder. You had no coat on, tears streamed down your face, and a third-class man was hovering over your trembling body. And the crew failed to detect the similar shaking of Harry’s large frame or his scared expression, instead pointing a finger at him and labeling him the guilty party.

“Don’t you move an inch,” a crew member warned, stepping toward Harry and dragging him away from you. Two of the men swooped in to scoop you up, checking for signs of harm.

Your frantic eyes searched for Harry, but he was already looking at you, slightly disappointed and eager to prove himself innocent without throwing you into the cold water himself by revealing the truth.

Finally, they have met lol. xxMoni

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bisexualklausmikaelson · 3 years

Text

maybe you were the ocean, when i was just a stone (7/?)

xix: i waste my time, friday nights, getting ready

Another Tuesday comes and goes -

Hayley appreciates being on land more and more. Rebekah introduces her to music - the sounds please her ears, make her body do this weird thing uncontrollably. Dancing, Rebekah calls it, one of the greatest joys of being human.

Elijah and Finn introduce her to dairy products - cheese, milk, yogurt, Hayley adores it all. She thought she’d be more disgusted by the idea of digesting another animal’s milk but, god, chocolate caramel pudding was just too darn good to pass up.

Kol catches her - mouth covered in sweets. She observes him looking at her lips, she recalls their almost kiss and notices how quickly he shifts his gaze away from her.

She wanted to kiss him, as weird as it sounds. She blames Ursula’s spell, one lousy kiss was all she needed and this damned spell would break and her voice would come back. Even if it’s not the most honest kiss, it could still count right?

If she weren’t so shy and meek, she’d plant one on him herself.

Kol curses himself for watching her while she ate dessert. What a creepy thing to do, he thinks. He’s supposed to only pretend to like her, not actually like her! And to think he tried to kiss her the other day - she’s the one who smiles like the sun. Who swims like a mermaid. Who looks at Niklaus with stars in her eyes.

Right.

She’s not interested in him.

Why would she be anyway?

For the first time, Kol doesn’t feel too confident in himself.

xx: and try recreate the first date that you met me

It’s been a while since Mikael has come home this early from work.

Esther is eagerly waiting for him in their bedroom - she watches him stammer around and sometimes, in the smallest moments, she swears she sees hints of the man he used to be.

The one she fell in love with.

“Will you stay, tonight?” She asks - noting that they have not slept in the same bed in years.

He looks over his shoulder, preparing his things for the guest room. “I can’t stand it,” Mikael spits. “Lying next to you, I just think of how another man has touched you, how another man has been with you.”

Esther flinches, putting her head down as she thinks of Ansel. “That was a long time ago,” she notes. “I’ve apologized endlessly for my transgressions, and you haven’t forgiven me since. You even take your anger out on the children - they haven’t done a thing.” She insists as she reaches for his arm.

Still upset, Mikael jerks her hand away. “If you hadn’t brought that boy,” he starts again, remembering how Esther had tried to pass along Klaus as one of Mikael’s children. “It wouldn’t be so hard to forget,” He adds on. “His face, every time I see it, I just think of your betrayal - “

“Niklaus has done nothing wrong-“

“Do not speak his name,” Mikael warns, looming over his wife. “As long as I live, rest assured, you and that boy will never know any peace.”

He grabs the rest of his belongings and disappears, leaving Esther to sob quietly into the night.

Klaus’ been feeling a bit lonely lately.

When he was younger, if he was ever sad, Elijah would play him songs on the piano. He loved watching his brother tangle his fingers the notes, tap his foot, even hum along. Their father, however, had never been a huge fan of the arts and he had made Elijah quit music for good and study business to be next in line for the family shares.

After Finn, of course.

Klaus lazily taps a finger over a note on the living room piano - he thinks of his brother and then he tries to play a song.

“Sounds bloody awful,” Mikael chimes in, suddenly appearing behind him.

“What do you want?” Klaus asks, refusing to turn around.

He can feel his breath on the back of his neck, the way it sinks into his skin like hot sputters of lava. “You know,” Mikael says. “You truly are the last person I wanted to see, at the moment.”

Klaus doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re not exactly all that pleasant to be around either.”

He never speaks of this but sometimes, Klaus swears, his father could be slightly afraid of him - the way he’s so threatened by any little action of his must mean something.

“Your tongue has been getting sharper lately,” Mikael grits, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to turn around. “You’d do well to keep your comments to yourself,” he advises, now face to face with his son.

“And allow you to berate me?” Klaus spits.

Mikael grabs him by the collar and pushes him against a wall. “This is my house!” He shouts. “Don’t you forget that,” his grip doesn’t loosen until Klaus looks away from him, like a scared dog.

Satisfied, Mikael lets him go. He takes his leave, disappearing for the rest of the night.

xxi: and you come around from the town of complacence

(Klaus feels a cold sweat run all the way down his back.

He swears that it’s pooling around his feet, rising and rising almost as if he’s drowning. His knees are weak, he collapses on the floor, shaking.

Just then -

Ansel’s name appears on his phone again.

He manages to nervously grab a hold of the device, clumsily opening up his messages.

“Hi son - haven’t heard back from you in a while - just wanted to see how you were doing! I’m on my way back from my shift at the bar, came across this gorgeous mural painting of a bird, thought you might enjoy seeing it”.

“[Ansel has sent a Picture Message]”

And funny enough, Klaus suddenly feels like he can breathe again).

Her dreams - they’re supposed to be pink.

Rosy clouds, pomegranate juice, cotton candy on her tongue. But instead, tonight she dreams in black.

Hayley had woken up to loud noise from downstairs. She rushes towards the front door, spotting Klaus with a large backpack on, heading out.

“So, I’ve been caught, it seems,” he whispers, noticing her presence. “Are you going to tattle on me?”

She shakes her head. Hayley grabs his sleeve, pulling on it in order for him to understand.

He laughs, turning around to take her hand in his. “I understand, you want me to stay, love,” he acknowledges. “But I assume you know how dire my circumstances are in this place, the Mikaelson mansion isn’t as cookie-cutter as it may seem,” Klaus sighs sadly.

Her heart breaks into a thousand tiny pieces - she feels so close to this man before her, she can’t imagine being in this big lonely house without him.

Hayley reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small object for him.

“What’s this? A shell?” Klaus asks as she places in his palm and closes his fingers around him. He can’t help but smile at this small action. “I’ll keep it with me wherever I go,” he assures her.

His hand is in her hair, wrapping around the back of her head and pulling her flush against his chest.

“In exchange, I promise you that we will see each other again,” he whispers softly and she clutches the fabric of his shirt. Hayley inhales his scent. “What do you think? Will you wait for me, until then?” Klaus murmurs.

She nods, finally finding the strength to smile again.

“That’s a good girl.” He hums.

He hears her small sobs into his chest, and he can’t help it, he wants to cry too.

He finally has a moment with her, and it just had to be now. He swears, he has such bad luck.

“Nik-”

And just then, his brother chimes in, allowing the bad luck to resume.

“Nik,” Kol releases, looking worried as he rushes down the stairs in order to be by his brother’s side.

(It is only later that he realizes that Hayley is in his arms).

“What’s happening? Where are you going?” He asks, voice caught in his throat.

Klaus lets go of Hayley, allowing her to return to Kol’s side as the older brother starts to step away.

“Kol,” he says, now standing a few steps from their doorway, outside their house. “It’s a bit of a shame that I couldn’t offer you a proper goodbye,” Klaus continues, taking one last look at his little brother (one last look at his home). “Or any of our other siblings, for that matter,” he takes more steps backwards, getting further and further away.

“What are you talking about?” Kol shouts, lunging towards the door.

Hayley is close to him, almost in his arms - but he doesn’t event notice.

Not when his brother is -

His brother is -

“Let them know I will be safe,” Klaus promises. “And rest assured that I will keep in touch.”

“Klaus,” Kol tries to run after him. “Wait, don’t do this-“ Hayley holds him back and he realizes that she’s much stronger than he thought. He looks into her eyes, he sees how much she trusts his brother and it almost baffles him.

“Hayley,” he calls her. “You have to let me stop him,” Kol orders.

She shakes her head. She can’t do that, no matter how much she wants to. She’s seen the scar on his face, the way Mikael hurts him.

She couldn’t live with herself if she allowed him to do this to Klaus any longer.

“Brother,” Klaus interrupts. “Hayley, she’s strong but, she’ll need someone to lean on, someone to be there for her,” he says, noticing how tender Kol is towards her. “Do take care of her while I’m gone, make sure she doesn’t get too lonely.”

His cab arrives, Klaus ducks inside and he can see his brother fighting Hayley’s strength with all his might.

“Nik!” When Hayley finally weakens, Kol pushes her aside and runs after the car as it drives away. “Please, we can work this out!” He keeps shouting - running until he is out of breath.

Running until he is chocking.

Klaus looks back until he sees his brother collapse and Hayley run to his safety. She holds him in her arms, a soft glow coming from her fingers as she hovers over him.

“Goodbye Kol,” Klaus whispers to himself, fingers tightly clasped around his chest.

#klayley #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #koley #to #the originals #tvd #munea writes #kol mikaelson

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hillbillied · 3 years

Note

Loosier for the domestic ask meme?

DOMESTIC SHIP MEME - Loosier

who reaches out to new neighbours

neither. Leckie would rather die than turn up on someone’s doorstep with cookies only to find out he hates them. he’s a casing-the-joint kind of guy. he squints through his blinds and says shit like “You think Mrs. Henderson knows her ‘I <3 Jesus’ sign in the window is backwards?”. Hoosier prefers the traditional method; nodding at neighbours for ages then moving to casual conversation when the occasion arises.

who remembers to buy healthy food

Hoosier. Leckie is used to having someone else buy groceries or buying for a large family; big bags of snacks, everything must be in large quantities. (if you don’t buy 50 bags of chips, you get no chips.) Hoosier introduced him to the joy of buying the occasional solo vegetable.

who remembers to buy junk food

both. they pick their own ice cream specifically because then they get the exact flavour they like and don’t have to share.

who fixes the oven when it breaks

Hoosier. (Leckie didn’t notice it was broken.)

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

Leckie waters the plants, it was one of his chores from childhood. he takes really good care of his exotic lilies. Hoosier feeds the dog; Leckie feeds the cat. which they have to do together because otherwise one will get sad. (the dog and the cat – Pavuvu and Banika respectively – are inseparable.)

who wakes up earlier

Leckie. Hoosier likes his lie-ins, even if he’s never enjoyed many of them. Leckie’s got that 8 AM clock from large family life. someone would be up at that time, to got to work or school or whatever. so he makes up early and groans about it for an hour.

who makes the bed

Hoosier. Leckie calls it “an outdated custom derived from the domestication of man” and that translates to “I am very bad at corners”.

who makes the coffee

Leckie. he knows how to brew it properly and makes sure the pot’s always topped up. partially because he drinks more of it and partially because Bill would just dump raw beans in there if he thought they’d dissolve.

who burns breakfast

neither. Hoosier had to cook for his younger siblings and Leckie had to help his mum cook for the family. they’re both fairly competent in the kitchen.

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

Leckie will grab his keys and briefcase and such, then come find wherever Hoosier’s at. he’ll sigh heavily like leaving is a burden, rest his head on the man’s shoulder for a moment, and say “I’ll see you later”. often followed by a poetic addition like “every moment apart will be sweet sorrow” and that fox-like grin. then he’ll wink and head on out.

Hoosier’s more traditional, he’ll pop his head through the doorway of wherever Leckie is – normally his study – and let him know he’s leaving. he always asks if Leckie wants anything, and without fail; he’ll bring it home. Leckie has gradually started asking for more ridiculous things beyond milk or eggs. he asked for “something detrimental to society as a whole” and came downstairs to find Hoosier dragging a roadworks sign through the door because “How all them cars gonna know t’ swerve now, Bob?”

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

Hoosier shouts “Welcome home, darlin’!” from wherever he is in the house. Leckie will then come and rest his head on him. either against Hoosier’s back if he’s standing or Leckie will lie down on his lap if he’s sitting. even if it was a good outing, Robert has to decompress. Bill won’t look up from whatever he’s doing but he will stroke Leckie’s hair and wait for him to speak.

Leckie will shout “Just a minute!” if he can’t get up immediately. (if he’s writing, for instance.) Hoosier always takes his time pulling off his shoes and coat so Leckie has time to come and greet him. Robert likes to run his fingers over whatever clothes Bill’s wearing, like he hadn’t seen Hoosier leave in them, and touch his cheek lovingly. Leckie will always follow that by kissing him and grinning, like he’s amazed his boyfriend came back at all.

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

Hoosier is little gifts. everything is a gift when it doesn’t matter if Leckie hates it. the man’s a spite-consumer, he’ll read books and he’ll eat chocolate and he’ll watch movies that all seem terrible to him because informed criticism is fun. so Hoosier can bring home anything he wants and fear nothing. (he does choose his flowers particularly and semi-regularly. those are always received with a quip from Leckie, who will never truly get over that little bullshit part of him that says he, A Man, should not be receiving flowers. he makes up for it when he puts them on the bedside table and quietly takes Hoosier’s hand, kissing his knuckles and whispering his thank you.

Leckie, on the other hand? grand gestures. “Put on a suit, we’ve got tickets to that musical you’ve always wanted to see!” and “Get out here, Bill, I’m freezing my cock off and I’ve got a car-shaped present that needs unwrapping!”. hopelessly romantic in a hallmark card kind of way. Leckie’s good at saving money, skating around what he needs himself so he can pull this kind of bullshit off.

who picks the movie for movie night

they take turns because they hate each other’s movie choices. Hoosier likes romcoms and action movies. Leckie likes classics and edgy thriller bullshit. they suffer through for love (and the sex afterwards).

their favorite kind of movie to watch

they both enjoy musicals, that’s the only true overlap. and it took a while to get to because Leckie kept pretending he didn’t ‘get’ the singing.

who first suggests a pillow fort

Leckie. he presents the idea like they’re in court and Hoosier needs convincing. (he does not.)

who builds the pillow fort

they build it together. Leckie’s the architect and Hoosier’s the constructor. for all the laughs they have with that psudo-formal dynamic, the result is actually incredibly well-built and cosy.

who tries to distract the other during the movie

Leckie. his commentary is constant. the game they play is ‘How Long Can Robert Keep His Trap Shut?’. Hoosier checks his watch when he presses play and times it. current record is 24 minutes and 15 seconds.

who falls asleep first

Hoosier. Leckie keeps himself up with overthinking. it’s nice to lie awake, though, safe and warm beside Bill.

who is big spoon/little spoon

Leckie’s the little spoon. if he wants to hold Hoosier, he’ll do it facing him or with Bill’s head on his chest. when they spoon, Hoosier’s the one wrapping around him, tangling their legs together. he’ll kiss Leckie’s curls and mutter some joke in his ear, squeezing him close and making sure Bob feels like he can’t escape. because that’s the point, to take away a little control. to make Leckie relax, breathe deep, and just let himself be held for a change.

#love me these two I'm so rusty with em!#thank you anon!!#the pacific #loosier

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

Last thing you bought online? Did you like it? Well, I ordered my dinner last night online if that counts. It was delicious.

Could you date someone who didn’t drive (and didn’t show an interest in ever getting their license, either)? Honestly, I really would prefer if they did drive because I don’t drive and if we both didn’t that would make things difficult. I know being in a wheelchair doesn’t mean I can’t drive, but it takes extra steps and money and honestly I’m scared to do so. It would just be more convenient (for me) if they could drive. Not saying it would be a deal breaker, but it would kinda suck.

How would you react if your artwork became famous? What artwork?

Would you get your nipples pierced? No.

How many people know your birthday? Several of my family members remember it on their own and then several others are reminded on Facebook.

Has anyone ever tried to ruin a relationship you were in? No.

Have you ever watched a whole hour long infomercial? I probably did as a kid when I couldn’t sleep back when that was the only thing on in the early morning hours.

What is your current MySpace song? I have no idea what the last song was I added to my profile, that was well over a decade ago now. What is your favorite kind of meat to put on your sandwich? Turkey or bologna.

Which one of your exes do you feel like you have the most chemistry with? Ty wasn’t an ex, but there was something there and almost led to something and honestly he was someone I felt the most chemistry with out of anyone.

How do you feel about people who make Facebook profiles for their pets? I had one for my dog, Brandie.

Have you ever personally known a pair of conjoined twins? No.

What was the most disturbing thing you have ever heard your mother say? I don’t know.

Is there something in particular you like to look at photos of? What is it? Ones from my childhood.

Chewy chocolate-chip cookies: like or dislike? Like.

Do you think your grandmother is/was beautiful? Yes.

Which of your fields of interest are you a total expert on? I don’t feel I’m an expert on anything.

When was the last time you got all dolled up? It’s been quite a long time.

Do you ever name objects? (i.e. mp3 players, guitars, cars, etc.) No.

Do you have a criminal record? No.

Last person you took a nap with? I don’t take naps with anyone.

Does seeing your mother cry automatically make you feel sad as well? Yes.

Do you think someone likes the same person you like? I don’t like anybody.

Do you want your life to stay the way it is right now forever? Nooo.

Have you ever been to craigslist.com? Nope.

What about eBay? Yes.

Have you ever used Nair? Yeah, back in my pre-teen days.

Are you medicated? I just took my pain med if that counts.

Do you shape/fill in your eyebrows? No.

Have you ever stolen/borrowed clothes from an ex? Nope.

Could you make a statement about anything political? I’d rather not.

Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I honestly thought I may have met “the one” with Ty, but obviously not.

Do you get the feeling something good will happen in your life soon? No.

Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I’m a sucker for ‘em.

Have you been to McDonald’s in the past month? No.

Have you ever slept over at your best friend’s house? --

How often do you go bowling? I haven’t been bowling in like 10 years and have only ever gone less than a handful of times.

Last time you were in an apartment? I don’t recall.

Have you ever seen a live seahorse? Possibly at an aquarium.

Would you like to have your own yacht? That would be fun.

Winnie the Pooh or Tigger? Winnie the Pooh.

What’s the unhealthiest thing you’ve eaten today? Ramen.

Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? No.

What is something you’d be happy to receive as a gift, that doesn’t cost a lot? Receiving any gifts is nice.

What kind of music does your significant other/crush like to listen to? --

Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were? Derek, my first boyfriend. He has blue eyes.

Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? Sure, like Gilmore Girls or The Golden Girls.

Do you eat dessert after dinner? Sometimes.

Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behavior the next day? Yes.

When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? I don’t drink anymore.

What was the last animal that you saw? My doggo.

What was the last thing that you said to one of your siblings? “Goodnight.”

What is the most expensive thing that you’ve purchased that you paid for: My very first Macbook.

What is your favorite messaging program? Facebook Messenger I suppose.

Do you eat fast food more than 5 times a week? Yeah, I eat a lot of takeout.

Have you ever almost drowned? No.

Have you ever learned something shocking about someone through Facebook? I’ve found out people have passed away through Facebook.

What’s the scariest living animal that you’ve petted? Nothing crazy.

Do you remember the first conversation you ever had with the person you currently have feelings for? --

Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why? Thursdays, which are my biweekly doctor appointment days. They were weekly for awhile.

If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it? I add condensed milk, brown sugar, and cinnamon.

What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep? *shrug*

Choose one - Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Butterfinger.

Do you use Mozilla Firefox? No.

Who is your favorite person to hug? My doggo.

Have you ever had to have a mug shot? No.

What was the last thing you carried to your room? My bowl of ramen.

When was the last time you had a late night phone call? During my teen years when I actually used to talk on the phone.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

4 notes · View notes

if-the-crown-fits-translate-it · 3 years

Text

Discord pt 45

[Date: 23/02, 10.09 PM - 23/02 11.29 PM GMT ]

page: “Hello everyone!!! :)”

P R I N C E: “Hello Page! :D”

fetch: “Oh hey there Page :]”

page: “Ah Fetch! It's a pleasure to finally meet you! The others told me a bit about you before but I'm so happy I get to meet a new friend!”

[fetch: “Yeah its... Its really nice to meet you too :] How are you?”]

page: “I am doing quite well, I hope you had a nice rest last night! Crown said you were very tired...”

[fetch: “Yeah, I was a little exhausted. Nothing a good nights sleep couldn't fix!!”]

page: “I'm glad! Everyone apart of our family certainly deserves a good rest :)”

[fetch: “Anyway, what brings you round here?”]

page: “Well, I joined rather suddenly and Crown thought it might be a good idea to introduce myself properly! :)”

[fetch: “Oh yeah! Everyone else got an intro. I suppose its your turn eh?”]

page: “Yes! I will gladly answer any questions anyone has!”

[fetch: “Opinion on chicken nuggies?”]

page: “I really like them! Especially with ketchup or even mayo :)”

[fetch: “Favorite flower?”]

page: “Freesia flowers are so sweet and pretty!”

[Denora: “Favorite girl scout cookie?”]

page: “In Canada we only have either chocolate covered mint ones or ones that are similar to oreos that can be chocolate or vanilla! I like the oreo looking ones :)”

[havoc.ren: “Can we get a fit check for the artists? :]”]

page: “Ah okay! I have a white button up shirt with a black bowtie on! As well as a pastel green skirt and of course my circlet, just like Barons it's a simple gold one with no gems :)”

[disks and the color red |Stars: “The most important question I can ask: Do you like maccy cheese?”]

page: “I love maccy cheese! Especially with extra milk!”

[fetch: “Hey page... Do you... Know me? I know you said you had just met me but like, has any of the Court told you about me?”]

page: “Hmm...Nope! I haven't, though you do remind me a lot of one of my great friends, Knight! :)“

[fetch: “Is that so? How do I remind you of him?”]

page: “I guess from what I have seen the way you type and how kind you are to me reminds me of them...Theres also something else but i can't quite put my finger on it...”

[fetch: “...Oh. You remind me of my old friend too.”]

page: “Oh! Was it the other friend I was told was missing? I hope you find him again soon! I've seen some people mention him before along with something about a...Turkey of some sort?"

jayyyyyyyy: “a turkey?”

fetch: “ITS-

its... an inside joke”

[fetch: “Yeah, you remind me of Maxwell. I... kinda miss him a lot. Think you can keep an eye out?”]

page: “Of course anything to help my beloved friends! :)”

[fetch: “its... an inside joke”]

page: “And the joke...it's...not a secret is it? You're not hiding something from me are, you shouldn't lie to friends...”

[fetch: “:] How close are you with crown? Is there anything you've gathered that you can share with us?”]

page: “Gathered? Do you mean...secrets! :)”

fetch: “And no its not a secret! Just something we can talk about later :]”

[fetch: “Family isn't supposed to keep secrets, remember?”]

page: “That's right!...But...Crown told me not to tell people things without permission because its bad...”

[fetch: “So... He's keeping secrets? But you said thats bad!”]

page: “ But-- but...Won't Crown be mad? I don't wanna get in trouble or be...grounded...”

[P R I N C E: “Crown doesn't keep secrets, page! he can be a little forgetful sometimes, but he doesn't keep secrets. :)”]

fetch: “if you say so...”

[A random Spark: “What are you allowed to share without getting into trouble?”]

page: “Anything that Crown says I can :)”

[page: “ But-- but...Won't Crown be mad? I don't wanna get in trouble or be...grounded...”]

fetch: “If it gets you in trouble you don't have to tell me. I was just wondering.”

[jayyyyyyyy: “A little information here and there can't hurt!”]

page: “But if Crown finds out then I could get in serious trouble! Oh god oh god I dont wanna get in trouble if he grounds me--”

[fetch: “You don't have to tell! not if he's going to hurt you.”]

page: “Is there....Anything you would want to know specifically...? I might be able to tell you”

[P R I N C E: “I can ask Crown what you're allowed to share! :D”]

page: “Really? You're the best big sibling ever!”

P R I N C E: “Yeah! Aw thank you :D”

[fetch: “Can you ask him whats so important about the Crowns? And why we need to put them on to be in the family?”]

page: “Yes yes! I'll ask him for you! I'm confused why you want to know though? I mean they're important to us! :)”

Chat: “Don't worry Page! I'm sure Crown won't be mad at you.”

A random Spark: “Hello Chat...”

Chat: “Hello again, everyone!”

Chat: “Why do you all sound so upset?”

[fetch: “Can you ask him whats so important about the crowns? And why we need to put them on to be in the family?”]

page: “You don't need them! He just thinks it helps us look more unified as a family!”

[A random Spark: “I would rather not speak on the matter Chat”]

Chat: “I'm sorry. I hope you're in a better mood soon, though! :)”

page: “Well it's obviously a family! I mean, Prince is pretty much my older sibling!”

[fetch: “oh I see :] Can you take it off if you felt like it? Like, do you sleep with it on?”]

page: “We can sleep, though how much depends on how much we want to sleep! And yes, we always do wear our circlets no matter the situation :)”

page: “It's like they're not even there honestly! You hardly feel notice them!”

[A random Spark: “That sounds painful...aren't circlets hard?”]

Chat: “A little, but it doesn't hurt me at all! :)”

[fetch: “Is there any instance that could cause you to take off your crown? Like... say for showering or changing clothes?]

Chat: “No”

page: “Nope! why would we? We can't even really feel them, ha! :D”

Chat: “I'd like to talk to Knight again, too... I miss them a lot.”

A random Spark: “Fetch is nice”

Chat: “I'm sorry, Fetch! You're very nice too!”

[page: “Hey! Knight is like an older brother to me but you seem really nice to!”]

Fetch: “Glad I'm nice at least...”

Chat: “:)”

page: “I don't mean to be rude or pushy, i've been told being pushy is bad, but you all seem to be a bit more...confused after i told you about our circlets....Oh wait! Are you perhaps jealous? Would you like some too? :D”

A random Spark: “I think for now I am good...”

Chat: “Are you sure? There are plenty for everyone! :)”

fetch: “Noo, I would not like a circlet. Theyd look much nicer on you and the Court anyway :]”

page: “But why not? They're so nice and pretty and although it feels a little uncomfy at first you eventually forget you're even wearing one at all!”

A random Spark: “I have a pendant, I do not need a circlet”

[fetch: “I’m not much of a jewelry fan :]”]

page: “Neither was I! But Crown thought that perhaps it would be nice and it really is a simple one!”

P R I N C E: “If you don't want circlets just yet, I'd love to make everyone little flower crowns! :D”

[Continued in pt 46.]

#on:discord #by:page #by:prince #by:fetch #by:chat #if the crown fits

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this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms · 4 years

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Secrets Revealed || Lab Rats ||

Requested: can i request a adam davenport x reader? where you meet his family for the first time, right after adam told you about his and his siblings bionics? thanks love but i’m sorry if i am being intruding at all!

Pairing: Adam Davenport x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2.7K

A/N: Hey! Sorry this took so long, I hope you liked it. Adam seems a little more serious in this but I did it to fit the setting so I hope he wasn’t too off. Anyway, like I said hope you liked it!

You sighed heavily as your phone rang for what seemed like the millionth time today. But you didn’t pick it up, instead just watched it ring until it stopped. And when it finally did, you picked it up and turned it off, having had enough. You placed it back on your desk and concentrated on your homework, or at least tried to. Your mind was elsewhere, specifically on the person who kept calling nonstop. Your boyfriend, Adam, hadn’t stopped calling and texting since the minute you told him the two of you needed a break.

For good reason too, there was something he was hiding from you and refused to tell you. It would’ve been fine had this secret he was keeping wasn’t affecting your relationship. But it was, he was always sneaking off somewhere, canceling plans because something’s come up. And when you tried to ask him about it, he would always dodge the question by making some joke. At first it worked, you’d easily welcome the distraction because he always knew how to make you laugh. But after a while, you started to catch on to how he’d try to distract you every time you questioned his actions.

And you were sick of it, you thought there weren’t supposed to be any secrets between the two of you; you thought wrong. You’ve always told Adam everything, trusted him with your deepest secrets and he couldn’t even do the same with you. You couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t put their whole trust in you. But you didn’t exactly want to break up with him, you loved him. That’s why you suggested the break, to give him a chance to fess up whatever he was hiding. But so far all he’s done if beg you to come back without offering an explanation to anything.

If he wasn’t going to tell you, then you weren’t going to stick with someone who can so easily keep secrets from you. No matter how much it hurt. And it looked like you were heading down that path, you weren’t sure how much longer you could take before you finally decided to end things for good.

You sighed heavily and set your pencil down, unable to concentrate on anything. What was so bad that he had to keep it hidden from you? What if...what if he was cheating on you? No, that’s crazy, Adam’s way too good to do anything like that. He may not be the smartest guy but what he lacked he made up with his kind and caring personality. He would never hurt you like that.

Which is why you didn’t understand why he was keeping this from you, knowing that it was straining your relationship. You sighed again and checked the clock sitting on your desk, it was late afternoon. You decided to take a break and head to your kitchen for a snack, food always made you feel better. In fact, that was something that you and Adam had in common. It was great because the two of you could always go on food adventures and try new things.

Thinking about the different dates you’ve had with Adam only left a heavy feeling in your chest. Maybe you should just let it go and call the break off. You missed him a lot more than wanting to know what it was he was hiding. But if you did, that was just sending the message that he could just hide whatever he wanted from you. It hurt, but you have to keep your ground until he decides what he wants to do.

You walked over to your couch after grabbing a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. You sat down and turned on the tv, turning on the show you were currently watching. You curled up against the couch and started eating, partially paying attention to the show. A couple episodes in and you heard a knock at the door. You weren’t expecting anyone and your parents didn’t come home for a while. You set the plate down and paused the show before getting up to open the door.

“Adam? What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Hey, I needed to see you. You weren’t answering your phone,” He replied, worry in his voice.

“For good reason too. Finally come to your senses?”

“{Name}, I…I can’t. I know you think I’m hiding something, and if I am, it’s for good reason. Please, you have to believe me on that.”

“I do but I can’t be with someone who can so easily lie to me. So, we’re done here.”

With that, you went to close the door on him, blinking rapidly to stop tears that were coming. You didn’t get to close the door, Adam’s hand shot up and stopped it before you could. The sudden force making you stumble back more than it should have.

“Don’t do this, please! I’ll…I’ll tell you,” He said, almost sounding defeated.

“You will?” You asked surprised.

“Yes. I’d rather to tell you everything than lose you.”

You opened the door and stepped aside to let him come in, closing the door behind him once did. The two of you sat down on your couch, silence engulfing the two of you. You waited for Adam to speak up, he looked uneasy and anxious which only served to terrify you. You didn’t know what to expect and the more the silence carried on, the more terrified you were getting.

“Okay, what I’m about to tell you might come as a shock. I have abilities, bionic abilities. I’m bionic,” He started off.

You rolled your eyes, believing his words to be a story he was making up to try and get out of it. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, then—”

You were cut off by Adam shooting lasers out of his eyes, leaving a scorch mark on your wall. “What. The fuck! What was that!” You screeched.

“I’m sorry! It was the only way to get you to believe me!” He exclaimed.

“Right, okay, sure. So that just happened and you have bionic abilities. W-Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked.

“Because I couldn’t, for many reasons. But I wanted to, I really did, I hated keeping this from you but I had to. I did it to protect you but I see now it was doing more harm than good. It’s better that you know than I lose you,” He explained.

Guilt wracked your being, you shouldn’t have been so demanding about this. You forgot about how Adam must’ve been dealing with all of this. You were just caught up in your own paranoia, thinking he was hiding something terrible from you.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered out. “I didn’t realize this was hard on you too. I was just so scared that something bad was going on and you were scared to tell me. I shouldn’t have doubted you, I should have trusted you.”

“No, don’t apologize. I should have told you front the beginning, it wasn’t my intention to keep it from you but my family told me I needed to,” He told you.

“Your family…are they like you too?” You asked.

“Yeah, Bree and Chase also have bionics and Mr. Davenport, our dad, is the one who controls everything.”

“Wow, I would have never expected any of this…but its kind of cool.”

“Yeah and now that you know, I want you to meet everyone. Well they’re gonna want to meet you since you know now.”

“Okay, sure. Um, I’m free tomorrow if you want.”

“Great, now can we cuddle? This whole break really made me miss you.”

You laughed and nodded, crawling over to his arms and laying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand resting on your back and the other going to play with your hair.

You nervously fiddled with Adam’s hand as the two of you approached his front door. Your heart was racing against your chest and there was this giant lump in your throat rendering you speechless. There was just so many thoughts running through your head. Like what if they didn’t approve of this? They might not allow you knowing their secret and force you and Adam to break up. Or worse, they do that and then wipe your memory of him and everything you knew. Adam told you about that, how his dad created a memory wipe device.

The hand holding yours squeezed gently, Adam’s way of reassuring you that everything would be fine. You smiled as a way to tell him you were fine and he smiled back. For a second you thought he believed you but the look in his eyes told you he didn’t. But that was too be expected, you weren’t so sure you were convincing with your smile.

“Babygirl, relax. Everything’s going to be fine,” He said.

There was this serious tone in Adam’s voice that you’ve never heard him use. Being serious wasn’t Adam style, so hearing him be so earnest really helped calm you down. You smiled again, this time more genuine as his words calmed you down. He smiled back, this time matching yours before opening the door.

“Hey Adam,” His stepmother, Tasha, greeted from the kitchen. “Who’s your friend?”

“Tasha, this is {Name}. She’s my girlfriend,” Adam answered.

Tasha looked surprised for a second before a smile appeared on her face. She walked out of the kitchen and over to where you stood to probably greet you.

“Hi, I’m Tasha. It’s so nice to meet you.” She said.

You were about to stretch your hand out for a handshake like you expected but she brought you into a hug. You were a little surprised but welcomed the hug with open arms.

“Likewise, Adam’s told me a lot about you,” You replied.

“All good things I hope,” She joked.

“Yes, all good things,” You told her.

“Hey Tasha, where are the others?” Adam asked. “I want them to meet her.”

“Oh I think they’re down in the la-basement,” She corrected, unaware that you knew about the lab downstairs.

“It’s okay Tasha, she knows. Actually that’s what I wanted to tell everyone,” Adam told her.

“Oh! Okay, I’ll go get your father and the others,” She replied before disappearing off.

Your nerves came back as soon as she said that and you practically clung to Adam as you waited for everyone to come up. And they spiked up once everyone was in the living room, making you wonder once again if this was such a good idea.

“Everybody, Adam has some news,” Tasha said.

“Adam has news? This is outta to be good,” You heard Chase say, a teasing tone in his voice.

His words left a sour taste in your mouth by the way he belittled his brother. You knew he was just teasing him but it still didn’t sit right with you.

“Guys, I want you to meet {Name}, my girlfriend… And she knows we’re bionic,” He said, ignoring his brother’s words.

You didn’t expect him to be so straight to the point about it but you liked it.

“What?” His father exclaimed. “Adam, how could you do something like that?”

“Yeah Adam, do you know how irresponsible and dangerous that is?” Chase continued.

“Please don’t get mad at Adam, I practically forced it out of him,” You told them.

“That still doesn’t make this okay, why would you do that?” Chase questioned.

“Because I love her. And I rather tell her this than lose her,” Adam answered, once again in full serious mode.

You were taken aback by his words, he loved you? Although you’ve been dating for many months, the words had never been said out loud. It made your heart flutter in your chest at the bold declaration, god why did you ever doubt he didn’t care about you.

“Do you… Do you really mean that?” You asked in disbelief.

Adam turned to look at you, holding both your hands in his. “Of course I do. I love you more than anything.”

You grinned widely and pulled away to wrap your arms around his waist. “I love you too.”

“Okay, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m jealous of Adam,” You heard his sister, Bree, say.

“Yeah, you and me both,” Chase sighed.

“Which is why I know I can trust her with this secret. She won’t tell anyone,” Adam said, looking back at his family.

They were all quiet for awhile, unsure of what to say until Tasha spoke first. She was quick to sure her support, or rather she already supported you two. “Donald, I think we can trust her.”

“I… don’t know what to say. I mean everything about this is wrong,” He replied.

“Please Mr. Davenport, she won’t say anything,” Adam said, a desperate tone in his voice.

“Okay, fine. But any slip up and it’ll be your mess to clean up,” He told him.

Adam grinned and looked down at you, hugging you close to him. You laid your head on his chest, so glad that everything worked out.

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, one question. How did this happen?” Bree asked.

“Oh well that’s a question I can answer,” You replied.

Since everyone wanted to know the story of how Adam got a girlfriend, you all sat down so you could share it. Honestly, you and Adam would have never crossed path had he not noticed you and decided to act. You didn’t share any classes since all of yours were advanced and he was just in regular ones. And you usually spent your time in the library when you had free time. He noticed you in the halls, more specifically near his locker when you were switching out books. He instantly thought you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever laid eyes on and knew he had to talk to you. The only problem was how.

He thought about stopping you in the halls and just striking up a conversation but he didn’t know about what. Actually every time he tried, he just found himself tongue-tied and couldn’t get the words out. It wasn’t until he saw you reading on a bench did he do something. He came up with this ridiculous plan to pretend to know what you were reading, even though he didn’t.

“Hey, I love that book!” He exclaimed while approaching you.

You looked up startled, noticing a boy standing right in front of you. You knew who he was, Adam, he and his siblings had a sort of a reputation at school. “Oh, Adam right?”

“Yeah, can I sit?” He asked, a goofy grin on his face.

“Sure,” You answered before scooting over to give him room. “So, you’ve read this book?”

You got excited about the thought of someone else liking one of your favorite novels. The grin on his face turned into a guilty one as he answered. “Well I haven’t actually read it. I just needed an excuse to talk to you.”

“Oh… Wait, you wanted to talk to me?” You asked, a little disappointed.

“Yeah! I’ve seen you around school and well, I think you’re really pretty. How could I not want to talk to you,” He answered. “I’m sorry if that sounds really creepy.”

“Oh no! Just the opposite actually. No one’s ever done anything like that. I’m {Name} by the way,” You replied.

And that led to where the two of you are now.

“Wow, that is so cute. Way to go Adam,” Bree cheered once you finished your story.

“Yeah, I have to hand it to you Adam,” Leo commented.

“Well if you’re happy, sweetie, so are we,” Tasha said, smiling gently to show her support.

“Oh my god, it’s going to be so great having another girl around. We can go shopping and get our nails done,” Bree exclaimed, listing off everything she wants to do with you.

You laughed and agreed with her list, you were just happy that they accepted you and your relationship with Adam.

#oneshots #oneshot #one shots #one shot #imagines #imagine #lab rats #lab rats one shots #lab rats one shot #lab rats imagine #lab rats imagines #adam davenport #adam davenport one shots #adam davenport one shot #adam davenport imagines #adam davenport imagine #adamdavenportoneshots

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autistic-girl-academic · 3 years

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Cookie Run OCs

gdi apparently one of the cookies in cr kingdom is named licorice cookie so screw it i’m biting the bullet and posting my half-baked (ha) oc ideas now even if some of them have already been taken anyway. sorry there’s no art bc i’m terrible with digital stuff and can’t access a scanner to upload my drawings. there are almost certainly going to be more to come later because this game refuses to leave my brain.

Black Licorice Cookie: The powerfully astringent flavor of black licorice certainly isn’t to everyone’s taste - and that’s just the way Black Licorice Cookie likes it! This daredevil of a Cookie loves nothing more than testing her limits, so she’s always on the lookout for something to get her adrenaline pumping. That doesn’t mean she isn’t without her sweet side, however, which comes out most strongly when protecting her precious little sister. Get between them at your own risk!

Red Licorice Cookie (Sibling): Don’t mess with my little sis if you know what’s good for you!

Mustard Cookie (Trust): Nobody else gets me like Mustard Cookie does!

Kiwi Cookie (Friendly): Hey, I’ve got an idea for some cool bike tricks!

Roll Cake Cookie (Friendly): Going for a ride in that road roller and smashing things is such a rush! WHOO!

Initially I had the mental image of her as a Cookie with a web design and a spider pet, but then Truffle Cookie came out, so now I pretty much picture her skill being that she runs a Ninja-Warrior-style obstacle course or something. Maybe her pet could be a black cat instead?

Red Licorice Cookie: Between the fruity fragrance of her signature red hair and her sweet, outgoing personality, it’s no surprise that this Cookie is so popular! Red Licorice Cookie is a champion at gymnastics with plenty of fans, and performing with the ribbon is where she shines the most. She and her older twin sister might be as different as night and day, but their bond is as strong as a thousand strands of licorice twisted together!

Black Licorice Cookie (Sibling): I’ve got the coolest big sis in the world!

Cheerleader Cookie (Trust): Cheerleader Cooke is my BFF!

Yoga Cookie (Friendly): She’s helped me train to be much more flexible for my routines.

Skating Queen Cookie (Admiration): I can’t believe I actually got her autograph!

At first I imagined her as being a sort of epic version of Cheerleader Cookie, performing double dutch with a few friends much like the cheer team. Her pet would be a charm bracelet.

Oatmeal Cookie: Every day at the crack of dawn, this dutiful cowgirl is already hard at work, keeping a watchful eye over her herd with the help of her trusty steed, Raisin. If even a single cow goes missing, Oatmeal Cookie won’t rest until she’s got them home safe and sound. The tricks she can perform with a lasso will certainly knock your socks off! And when the sun starts to set, you can hear the sound of her yodeling from far across the plains.

Peanut Butter Cookie (Family): I’m the luckiest Cookie alive to have such a beautiful gal as you...

Knight Cookie (Friendly): You sure know how to burn the breeze!

Adventurer Cookie (Friendly): Nice hat ya got there, pardner!

Space Doughnut (Tension): Hey, stop spookin’ my herd!

Her skill would probably involve dodging obstacles on her horse while catching some runaway cows, and her pet would be a cowbell.

Peanut Butter Cookie: There’s nothing better for a boost of energy than some delicious, nutritious peanut butter! And forest ranger Peanut Butter Cookie definitely needs that energy, as she spends every day traversing the woods to keep them safe. Whether she’s helping Cookies who have gotten lost find their way home or rescuing woodland critters from danger, you can always depend on Peanut Butter Cookie. She’s especially fond of younger Cookies and enjoys teaching them wilderness survival skills.

Oatmeal Cookie (Family): She and I pack each others’ lunches every day.

Pancake Cookie (Friendly): Be careful climbing trees for those Acorn Jellies, dear!

Cream Puff Cookie (Friendly): I’m sure you’ll get that spell right next time, hun.

Fig Cookie (Trust): They’re always eager for me to tell them stories.

Fire Spirit Cookie (Tension): You keep those flames away from the forest, you hear?

You can probably tell by now that I’ve put like 0 thought into any of my Cookie OC’s skills. Anyway, her pet would be a bear that she helped when it was a cub, who shows up to help her by smashing obstacles.

Coconut Cookie: The Tropical Soda Archipelago has a long history of telling stories through traditional dance. Coconut Cookie comes from a long line of those dancers, and Cookies will flock from every island to watch her perform. Crowned with a garland of bright yellow coconut blossoms, she moves with the utmost rhythm and grace. It’s said that she practices every day so that she can bring peace and good fortune to the islands.

Mango Cookie (Trust): My best friend since we were little - I remember his very first boat!

Ananas Dragon Cookie (Admiration): The Dragon honored my ancestors by praising their dances.

Soda Cookie (Friendly): Going for a ride on the waves is the best, isn’t it?

Squid Ink Cookie (Friendly): Poor little thing, there’s no need to be shy.

My first thought was for her to make a sort of bubble shield out of coconut oil, like Lemonade Cookie but without the magnetic effect (maybe slower energy drain instead?) - I’m still undecided about it though. Her pet would be a bunch of coconuts who make coconut milk potions. Also, I picture her being related to Artichoke Cookie, but he’s not in Ovenbreak...YET? (pls devsis)

Honeycomb Cookie: Out in a charming little cottage atop a hill lives Honeycomb Cookie - and her many hives of Jelly Bees. Years upon years of working with the bees has allowed her to understand them so well, it’s almost as if she talks to them! If you happen to arrive on her doorstep, you can be sure that she’ll treat you to some delicious tea sweetened with honey and send you on your way with a basket of homemade treats.

Herb Cookie (Family): My cute little grandson certainly inherited the family green thumb.

Spinach Cookie (Trust): Oh, how sweet of you to bring me a basket of vegetables, dearie!

Fairy Cookie (Friendly): Ah, you’re so small I mistook you for another bee.

Matcha Cookie (Friendly): A bit of a strange one, but it’s nice to have some laughter over tea.

Not sure what her skill would be, but I think her pet would be a queen Jelly Bee that grows from a baby to an adult as you collect more jellies.

Souffle Cookie: A chef famous for turning simple Jellies into extravagant and delicious meals. Though he can come off as strict and a bit intimidating, he truly does care about creating good food for every Cookie who comes to his restaurant. Souffle Cookie is quite the perfectionist, so if a recipe doesn’t come out as planned, he tends to sulk so badly that even his fluffy chef’s hat deflates! But it never lasts long before he throws himself back into his work with renewed passion.

Sparkling Cookie (Trust): My cooking and your juice is the ultimate combination!

Sandwich Cookie (Admiration): To create such simple but delicious meals...C’est magnifique!

Mala Sauce Cookie (Friendly): Just watch, I’ll create a meal more than spicy enough to satisfy you!

Dr. Wasabi Cookie (Tension): I am NEVER using your syrup as a ‘secret ingredient’ EVER again!

Again, not sure what his skill would be, but maybe his pet could be a spoon. Sous-chef Spoon?

Rainbow Sugar Cookie: Sugar Cookie was always painfully shy and never considered herself all that important. However, everything changed when she met Rainbow Puff, a creature who begged for her help in protecting the happiness of Cookies everywhere from the wicked Dark Puffs. Bestowed with a magical wand, she becomes Rainbow Sugar Cookie, chasing away darkness with prisms of joyous light! RAINBOW...BEAM!

Pink Choco Cookie (Trust): The two of us would make a perfect team!

Wind Archer Cookie (Admiration): Wow...what an amazing warrior...

Sandwich Cookie (Friendly): She makes the best toast as a snack on the way to school!

Dark Enchantress Cookie (Rival): I won’t let a villain like you make other Cookies suffer!

Pomegranate Cookie (Tension): Why are you helping the Darkness?

Originally her name was Glitter Cookie, but then Shining Glitter Cookie got announced. In any case, she’d pretty much be an epic version of Wind Archer Cookie, fighting a big ‘boss’ monster once enough little ones were defeated with her magic.

Jack-o-Lantern Cookie: Trick or treat! Wait, is it Halloween already? The answer doesn’t really matter to this young Cookie, who loves trick-or-treating so much that they never take their costume off! If you don’t have Jellies to give, then get ready for a mischievous trick! But if there’s one thing they love more than getting treats, it’s sharing them with friends, so don’t be shy and join in the fun!

Candy Corn Cookie (Trust): My bestest trick-or-treating buddy!

Devil Cookie (Admiration): WOW! What a great costume!

Apple Cookie (Friendly): Here, candy apples!

Onion Cookie (Friendly): Trick o- um, please don’t cry...

Vampire Cookie (Tension): Hey, don’t fall asleep when I’m trying to trick you!

I thought I was in the clear with this OC when we got Truffle Cookie for Halloween...but then Pumpkin Cookie was an NPC later, lol. At least the name was an easy change. Their skill would basically be like a slower version of Chestnut’s, where you go up to houses and trick-or-treat.

Candy Corn Cookie: This Cookie used to be a scarecrow who stood in the middle of a big field of candy corn. However, they wanted to travel the world, so one night they wished upon a star...and miraculously, their wish was granted! Bursting with curiosity, Candy Corn Cookie is full of questions about everything they see. They still have a habit of chasing birds wherever they go, though.

Jack-o-Lantern Cookie (Trust): This ‘trick-or-treat’ thing is really fun!

Alchemist Cookie (Admiration): Wow, this Cookie knows lots of things!

Blueberry Pie Cookie (Friendly): Ooh, what’s in all these ‘book’ things?

Mocha Ray Cookie (Friendly): Cookies can really live under the sea? WOW!

Carrot Cookie (Tension): Aw, I don’t wanna go back to the farm yet!

Candy corn apparently used to be called ‘chicken feed’, so their pet would probably be a chicken. Again, not sure about the skill.

#cookie run #cookie run oc #cookie run ocs

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ghostsofmemories · 4 years

Text

Insect Poison Update #1

Before you check out this post, please remember that the fight against police brutality is still happening, and education is critical. All proceeds from this shop are still being donated to the BLM organization and will continue to be. More designs have been added since the original post was made, so be sure to click the link to find something you like.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, feel free to jump over to my WIP introduction! I should mention that Aaron Bennett’s has been changed to Jack Bennett because I had a cool title idea for chapter 2 and needed to change his name for it to work.

So, I managed to spit out the first chapter in a couple days! It’s been difficult, but also way more fun than I was used to writing being (probably because I’m writing something I actually enjoy—who knew I was capable??). I wrote every day for five days in a row, counting today, which is wild and something I haven’t done since my NaNoWriMo days (AKA the first time I wrote this book).

Chapter 1 of the book is basically an intro to Robert and Ramona’s dynamics as (twin) siblings and a short look into how their mother interacts with them. I know the prose for this chapter could use some more work, but I think there’s a lot of character here that I liked exploring.

The chapter has three scenes: a scene where the twins are at the lake together, a scene where they’re eating dinner with their mom, Emily, and their older sister Lori, and one where they’ve stayed up late to eat cookies their mom baked for Church on Sunday.

(oop this update turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be) (CW for like, one teeny mention of drugs)

Scene 1: overhand throws are superior

In this scene, Robert and Ramona leave the house to go to the lake at the end of the street, which they’re not supposed to go to by themselves. They get into a bit of an argument that ends with a pair of shoes in the water.

The lake wasn’t big or clean or pretty, but they didn’t care much about those things. They didn’t mind the algae that tugged at their ankles or the rocks that are so sharp they gave off the impression of wanting to cut you open. It was all they’d ever known.

Since they weren’t supposed to be at the lake, they also weren’t wearing their swimsuits. They swam in their T-shirts and shorts, with Ramona’s sweater lying where the sand and the grass met. Their shoes were tucked underneath it, as if anyone would want to steal their too-small shoes with cracks in the rubber and holes in the fabric. As if their appearance wasn’t protection enough.

The water was cold enough to bite. It made their jean shorts cling to their legs, and they swam stiff and tight so they didn’t have to feel the friction. They did that for two hours; they were rebel children, breaking all the rules.

^ this part was overall just pretty fun to write, and the last sentence is definitely my favorite because of what happens next:

“Mom’s going to be so mad when we get home,” Robert said, treading water and staring his sister down. He didn’t see himself in her face the way everyone else did. Maybe it was because he spent more time with Ramona than he did with mirrors. Maybe it was because she wore her hair in two, rust colored braids and his was short and brown and untameable. Maybe it was because he almost never liked Ramona, but usually, he liked himself.

“Mom’s going to be mad,” he said again. She wasn’t going to be, but Ramona played along anyway. She kicked her legs a little faster, trying to keep her chin above the water like her brother could.

“Too bad,” she said, “we’re already in the water. She can’t do anything.”

The twins knew their mother wouldn’t be mad. She wouldn’t be mad if they were there for four hours. She wouldn’t be mad if they waltzed into the house dripping wet from their hair and clothes, right onto the freshly mopped kitchen floor. She’d mop it again without a second thought. She’d ask them how their afternoons went.

I love this part because I got to explore how Robert and Ramona almost want to get in trouble if it means someone will pay attention to them. They want to get caught and be told no about something, but their mom is so absent minded (and high) that they can get away with whatever they want. In this chapter and probably further ones, we get to see them test exactly how far they can go.

Here’s the part where the fight gets introduced: Ramona’s ready to leave and Robert isn’t, but he also doesn’t want to stay by himself (even though he’d never admit that). He tells Ramona to give her the sweater she’s holding, presumably to dry himself off a little. Instead, he tosses it into the lake.

Sweatshirts weren’t exactly known for being aerodynamic and eleven year old boys weren’t exactly known for their underhand throws, so it didn’t go far. It landed pathetically into the shallow part of the water where their older sister used to take them to catch tadpoles in the spring (they would bring them home in buckets and tupperware and try to have their very own front yard aquarium. Their mother always spotted them and made them march back to the lake and dump dozens of them back into the water).

“Robert!” Ramona yelled, stepping into his space. He put his hands behind his back and stepped even closer. “Go get it!”

“It’s your sweater,” he said. He smiled and bent down to pick up a rock, mostly because it looked like the sort Ramona would bring home and put in a box with three dozen others. He forced his hand into his wet pocket and let it sit there, wrist deep in clinging fabric with a rock clenched in his fist. Later, on the way home, he’d toss it into the grass and never think about it again.

We can see here that Robert is a little unhinged and manipulative, and really wants to get a rise out of his sister and see what she’ll do. Her response is to be even more unhinged and manipulative:

Robert watched as she sat down to put on her shoes. He saw her stand up and toss his sneakers right into the water, one after the other, socks still tucked inside.

Eleven year old girls weren’t known for their underhands, either, but their overhands could be surprising if they put some energy into it. The shoes sunk into the bottom of the lake, and the twins stared at one another as if to agree, just this once, to end the fight before things got worse.

Ramona didn’t smile. She took no pleasure in being wicked. Still, she’d be the first to admit that she took more than a little pleasure in her brother’s silence.

Scene 2: pork and potatoes and corn.

Time for dinner! This scene was fun and mildly uncomfortable to write.

Emily Bennett was nothing if not a creature of habit. She thought this was her greatest secret, something to hold close to her chest, but the things she tried to hide were always smeared down to her sleeves.

“Just in time!” She said, her smile wide enough to call a canyon. She still had silverware in her left hand and a stack of cups in her right, and stared at the next seat in line instead of looking at the twins. Her mind was only at rest when her body was in motion, and even then she struggled to drown out the noise. “We’re having pork and potatoes and corn. Go get your hands washed so you can eat, and let your sister know it’s dinner time.”

And a little later:

You kids are so quiet these days,” she said, setting her glass on the table. Condensation was already forming on the outside of the glass. The twins took turns shifting in their chairs, trying to escape from a heat that didn’t seem to bother their mother or Lori. “What have you been up to?”

The three of them looked at each other, trying to decide who would take one for the team. When eyes settled on Ramona, she spoke up. “I re-organized my rock collection this morning,” she said, and took a bite of mashed potatoes to avoid saying anything further.

“Oh, that’s nice honey. You’ll have to show me later.”

Ramona had no intention of showing her mother the newly cleaned and sorted rocks, and Emily had no intention of looking. They were simply humoring each other.

“Mhm. I think I might have found some amethyst.” Ramona was thought amethyst was her mother’s birthstone (it was, but after no comment from her mother about it, Ramona was sure she’d gotten it wrong).

“How’s the corn?” Emily asked, taking a bite of it and following it immediately with large gulps of water. The glass was half empty.

Lori spoke up. “Good. Same as always.” She wished, for a moment, that she could rewrite the sentence in her mother’s mind. It’s good, mom. Did we get it from the store or the farmer’s market? Could you show me how to cook it the way you do? She didn’t bother with these types of questions because Emily never taught her things when she asked. Lori couldn’t recall the last thing her mother had taught her.

I can’t really describe it, but the family dynamics are exactly how they need to be. I want there to be a certain feeling of tension and uneasiness when everyone is in the same place, but a tension they’ve all gotten used to.

The last scene is when the twins are stealing cookies and getting ready for bed, which I’m not sure is totally necessary but I think it further shows their dynamics so it can stay for now.

“I’m tired,” Ramona said, trying to dip her cookie into a glass of milk she’d almost finished. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Robert said, popping open a tupperware dish and reaching into it carefully, like the cookies might disappear if he moved too fast. “Want another one?”

“We have to leave some, otherwise mom’ll notice.”

“She won’t do anything about it,” he said, pushing the bowl across the table to her, “you can have some more.”

“I don’t want anymore. I want to go to bed.” Ramona stood to rinse out her cup at the kitchen sink, the tile cool and grounding under her feet. Robert left his glass on the table and the cookie bowl with the lid half on.

“Fine, I’ll just go to bed, too.”

Not to continue telling every bit of psychology surrounding the characters’ actions, but this part is interesting because again, both of them are aiming to get caught and get into trouble, but they refuse to do it without the other. Robert starts everything and Ramona finishes it before it gets too far.

The chapter ends with them getting ready for bed and Ramona hearing her dad’s truck pull into the driveway, meaning he’s home for a weekend before his next set of deliveries and destinations and whatnot. I think I want this to be the inciting incident, but I have to work on it more and figure out what I actually want to happen here.

Overall, the chapter clocked in at 2802 words, and I think after I go back and add some more description and imagery (which is definitely where I’ve fallen short so far), it should end up around 3000-3200. I really enjoyed writing this chapter (I think this book is by far the most exciting project for me, and is going to help me figure out what I want to write from now on), and I want to talk more about how my process is going, but I think that’ll be a separate post where I talk more about process and music and all those little things that go into a writing session for me.

If you have any questions about the story or characters, want to get added to the taglist, or just have anything to say about it in general, make sure you do that in an ask so I can be sure to see it! My notifications are sketchy but I’ve never had an issue with ask notifications.

Taglist: @coffeeandcalligraphy @alicewestwater @fliiik-art

#insect poison #insect poison updates #writing upate #my writing #my wip

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quibbs126 · 1 year

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So today I decided to redraw my versions of the North and South Dragons as Cookies, whom I call Choco Creme and Milk Creme respectively

Yeah I basically completely redesigned them, but to be honest I quite like these new designs. I also like the old ones too, but I think I’m gonna more retool them for their normal Cookie disguises. Also I may or may not have stolen the diamonds in the eye thing from @deadshadowcreature ‘s designs of the dragons, which I found recently and really like

With the hair, I was planning on giving them the same hair, but I had two different ideas and I wasn’t sure which one I liked more, so I just gave them each different ones. They’re supposed to just be me trying to interpret their hair/scales/whatever as actual hair

I wanted to draw these guys again because of the Might of the Ancients thing in the recent update mentioning them again, and giving us a bit of lore surrounding them and Dark Cacao, as well as confirming their powers. From what I can gather, their powers are black lightning and the snow/cold, though it’s not entirely clear which controls what. I assume though it’s the North Dragon with lightning and the South Dragon with the snow, just given the corresponding colors. Funny enough, I actually headcanoned that one of them had power over snow, so I was surprised to have actually gotten that right. I said the other one controlled ice since I thought they’d both have a “cold” motif, but eh, I still got one of them, so that’s something

If you want to hear my personal headcanons for these guys, I’ll just tell you here, since I’ve thought about it a bit more since I last talked about them

So Choco Creme and Milk Creme are twins dragons, both being born from the same egg. Their parent was whom I call the Cookie Creme Dragon, a gargantuan dragon who laid to rest on the northeastern part of Crispia, and their body eventually became the Giant Icing Ridge (this was mostly due to me misinterpreting something about Dark Cacao splitting the two apart as being literal and they were once one dragon, then me just working with that idea). Thankfully they are nowhere near the Cookie Creme’s size (at least not yet). Originally I said that Choco Creme was older, but given they hatched from the same egg, I’m pretty sure they’re the exact same age. But Choco Creme still acts like the older one. Also, Choco Creme is a girl while Milk Creme is a boy

I said before that I headcanon the two dragons as being Dark Cacao’s older siblings. Now granted, nothing in the new Might of the Ancients implies that Dark Cacao knew the dragons prior to the story (I feel like it’s supposed to be when he stopped their fighting and founded the Dark Cacao Kingdom, but at the same time I’m pretty sure he had the Grapejam Chocoblade at that point, and as we see in the flashback, Dark Cacao doesn’t have that yet, so I’m not entirely sure when it’s supposed to take place). However, technically there’s nothing that disproves it, so screw it I’m still sticking with it. Basically at some point when the two were young, they were exploring the wilds of the land during a blizzard, when they found this thing lying in the snow, which was a very young Dark Cacao Cookie, unconscious. They were curious about it, so they picked it up and took it back with them. Eventually it woke up and after that point, as it didn’t seem to want to leave, they decided to keep it, eventually becoming their youngest brother, as well as their smallest (when taking on Cookie form, they intentionally make themselves at least slightly taller than Dark Cacao, just to be petty)

Edit: about the whole Might of the Ancients, I watched a collection of the cutscenes, and okay no it seems to all be just before they did the thing that ended up founding their kingdoms, and watching Dark Cacao’s cutscene, yeah I’m pretty sure he’s never seen them before this. So what I say here is kind of invalid by canon standards, but eh. Maybe this is an au or something. Or I’ll tweak the backstory to fit canon better. Or I’ll just stretch things and keep it how I have them

As for whether or not Dark Cacao is a dragon or just a normal Cookie, I’m still not sure, and no one here really knows, all they know is that he and his siblings aren’t syrup related

As for the dragons themselves, Choco Creme is a rather cold individual, known for never smiling. She’s kind of the one Dark Cacao inherited the grumpy attitude from. In contrast to her brothers she is not one for violence, preferring to settle things with words (mostly because she just doesn’t see the point in all that effort). However that’s not to say there isn’t an end to her patience, and when she reaches that, all hell breaks loose. As for Milk Creme, he’s probably the most upbeat of the three, but that isn’t really saying much as the bar for that is that he actually smiles semi-regularly (young Dark Choco had them all beat). But he also can be pretty friendly and looks for excitement. He’s also one of the quickest to violence, whether it’s out of anger or he just wants to. He probably taught Dark Cacao about the usefulness of violence, something he toned down but still definitely finds use in.

I’m thinking now that the two do from time to time take on normal Cookie forms, just to see how things are going in the kingdom. They don’t have that much interest in the prosperity of the kingdom itself, but they like to see how their brother’s running it. Unfortunately recently they haven’t felt much want to. I’ll draw those normal forms at a later date, but I’m thinking they either choose to closer resemble Dark Cacao or they choose to look more like regular citizens of the kingdom, being chocolate and milk based respectively. I’ll try it out and see what works

But yeah, I think that’s it. Hope you like them!

#I also now want to draw the two in Cookie forms as children with young DC #which I’m not sure they’d have but at the same time apparently the dragons do that because it takes less power to do so #so maybe #but like only after they meet Dark Cacao #also I’m not sure I’m keeping the whole Dark Cacao being initially mute bc they don’t know Cookie speak #since it seems a lot of Cookies who did grow up in the wilds all alone still know how to speak Cookie #even if it’s limited #but at the very least they all still know Dragonspeak #anyways #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #black dragon of the north #white dragon of the south #cookie run oc #technically #choco creme dragon cookie #milk creme dragon cookie #now I see why these guys normally have only one word before dragon #but oh well #I need to reference Oreos #dark cacao cookie #since he’s connected to them #my ocs #my art #their foreheads look really big

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gwenbrightly · 4 years

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Of Milk and Cookies chapter 17:

*chanting* Brad chapter Brad chapter Brad chapter

Hi, hello, yes, this is Gwen with a brand new chapter of Of Milk and Cookies! I hope you enjoy!

Lloyd awoke to the all too familiar sensation of having absolutely no idea where he was. Over the past few months, he’d stayed more places than he could count on both hands, and the chaotic travel regime often messed with his head. Of course, it wasn’t very long before the memories of his frantic flight to the Ninjago City Hospital came flooding back to him and the slight panic dissipated. It must have been close to 2 in the morning by the time Kai and the others had managed to get the guest room in the teacher’s wing ready for him the previous night, and then Jay had tried to convince him to stay awake so they could catch up, but his exhaustion ultimately won out. Still, he had to admit that being here with his siblings nearby already felt so much better than being off preparing to meet with another stuffy town leader or dignitary. Why had he ever agreed to that stupid victory tour? The sound of his stomach growling prevented Lloyd from continuing this train of thought. Better find something to eat. He stepped out into the hallway, bracing himself for the chaotic whirlwind of energy that usually accompanied his fellow ninja. However, he was met with silence. Glancing about, he quickly located a note that had been taped to his door.

Lloyd, we decided to let you sleep in. We’ll be down in the cafeteria waiting for you whenever you decide to wake up.

- Kai

“Guess I’ll have to navigate on my own…” Lloyd muttered. The time alone would give him some time to process the fact that this was his first time visiting his old school in its current rendition. Had Nya already been home from the hospital, it would’ve been easier to pretend as though the school hadn’t been the very one his mother had left him at when he was barely more than a toddler. The one that had been the source of so much pain for him before he’d ultimately been kicked out. Hopefully the name change and inclusion of the ninja as teachers had been cause for some improvements, but Lloyd still had plenty of reservations.

He wandered down the hallway, trying to remember exactly where the exit to the teacher’s wing was. After a few wrong turns, he finally ended up at a door that appeared to lead to the courtyard. Lloyd stepped outside. It looked similar to the last time he’d visited, during that disastrous run in with the evil clones, except it was brighter, happier. The students who populated the courtyard were playing nice, relatively non violent games, or visiting quietly with each other. It was surprisingly peaceful. In the distance, he could see the freshly painted sign that marked the entrance. Much more welcoming than before. He turned to the left, heading for the cafeteria, trying not to let too many memories take hold of him as he wandered about. He cringed a little as he passed the tree he’d fallen out of and broken his wrist while trying to hide from Gene and the others. Even his favorite hiding place hadn’t been enough to save him that day. Lloyd shook his head. No use dwelling on the past.

“Um, excuse me,” a small voice piped up from behind him, “but you’re about to step on my hydrangeas.”

The Green Ninja froze and looked down. Sure enough, there was a pot of hydrangeas just waiting to be planted along the edge of the walkway.

“Oh. Sorry! I was just…” he turned to apologize, but his breath caught in his throat when he recognized the small form behind him.

“Brad?!” Lloyd choked out at the same time as Brad exclaimed, “Lloyd?!”

They stared at each other for a moment. Lloyd hadn’t even considered that being here meant he could easily run into one of his old classmates. He had no idea how to respond to this sudden reunion. Sure, they had parted ways amicably last time, but a lot had changed since then. Lloyd had changed, even if it was mostly his appearance.

“I…” he began awkwardly. Brad seemed no better prepared to process this turn of events.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with the delicacy of a cat coughing up a hairball.

“Nya.” Answered Lloyd, whose brain was suddenly only capable of one word responses.

“Oh. Right. Mr. Cole said she was fine and that Mr. Jay was just being a drama queen when he said she might die, but he didn’t mention anything about you…” Brad offered flushing slightly.

“I, uh, got here really late last night.” Lloyd explained. The smaller boy nodded.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They both just kind of stood there, not saying anything, for what felt like an eternity. Had they really already run out of things to say?

“Do… do you have anywhere you need to be?” Brad asked, finally. Lloyd shrugged.

“Breakfast. Eventually. Why?”

Brad returned his shrug.

“Dunno. Guess I was thinking maybe we could climb the tree. For old times sake?” he suggested, looking surprisingly vulnerable. Lloyd wasn’t entirely sure what the boy was really going for with this idea, but something inside of him desperately wanted to temporarily ignore the call of food. To pretend he was just a normal kid with a normal life, instead of an ageless war hero. And so, he decided that a few minutes hanging from the branches of a tree wouldn’t hurt anything.

“Okay.” Said Lloyd, surprising Brad.

The branches were much easier to reach now that Lloyd was taller. One of the few good things to come from that change, he supposed. He followed Brad up into the canopy of the tree, where the leaves created a delicate wall separating them from the outside world. They each claimed a branch, and sat, staring at each other.

“So. It’s been awhile.” Brad spoke first. Lloyd appreciated his efforts.

“It has,” he agreed.

“You’re way taller now.” Observed Brad. Lloyd had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. He’d resigned himself to the comments about his height a long time ago, but the reminder still stung more than it should have.

“I am.”

“Do you have any idea how weird it is to be the shortest in class now?” Brad asked abruptly.

“You… you’re- you’re the shortest?” Lloyd snorted. It was strange how easily their interaction had spiraled into something more familiar, less awkward.

“Yep,” the dark hair boy bemoaned, “Even Sally’s taller than me now. Mr. Zane says that’ll change when I hit pooburty, but I’m not so sure I believe him.”

“I mean, Zane’s pretty much right about everything, so don’t give up hope yet, I guess?” Lloyd offered, smiling lopsidedly at his mispronunciation of puberty (a word that had been explained to him following the tea incident).

“I won’t.” Brad decided. He plucked a leaf and watched it flutter to the ground below. They fell into another, more comfortable, silence.

“So.” Lloyd said after awhile, trying to strike up another conversation.

“So. I… I should probably thank you. And apologize.” Brad stated, sounding more serious than before. Lloyd frowned and asked, “For what?”.

“Thank you for what you did when you visited last time – showing all of us that we didn’t have to be bad like everyone expected us to,” Brad told him, “and I wanna apologize because you should never have had to put up with everything I’ve done to you. I know it wasn’t- I wasn’t nice to you at all. And that sucks because you were my friend, and friends shouldn’t be so horrible to each other.” He finished, looking sad. Lloyd had never expected to get closure from anyone who had been a part of his experience at Darkley’s, not really. All the hurt and fear had started to dull after so many months away, and he had been fine with that. It was easier to just try to move on and forget. So the apology struck him harder than he would have expected. He brushed a quick hand over his eyes (which were suddenly damper than they should have been) and scrambled to find the right words.

“Oh. I didn’t even know if that would work, but I’m glad it did. Everyone deserves to be shown their inner light. And yeah, it does suck that things were like that, I’m not gonna lie. But it’s not like we were taught any better. It’s a learning curve – that whole being nice to other people thing.”

“I… it’s changed a lot for me. I never… I never thought I’d want to do better. But I do. I wanna be the kind of person you are – to help people and make them happy. And my dad, um, finally got arrested. So I’ll be living with my grandparents after the term is over. They’re really excited to have me. It feels so good to be wanted.” Brad told him, brightening. The boy had rarely mentioned his parents, but Lloyd had always known they weren’t really… present in his life. Or good people. It warmed his heart to see Brad flourishing like this.

“Well, congratulations on your new life, then!” Lloyd said, genuinely happy for his… friend. Yes, they were still friends, deep down. Beneath the regret of past mistakes. Beneath the awkwardness of one of them having grown up a bit more quickly than planned.

“Lloyd? I’m really glad we bumped into each other. I wasn’t sure this was a good idea but… it was.” Brad said with a grin, clearly appreciating Lloyd’s encouragement. They had both needed this conversation.

“Me too, Brad. It’s been… nice.” Lloyd agreed. The others were probably looking for him by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They would, as always, find him eventually with those ninja senses of theirs. And they would, of course, be eager to catch up with him themselves, and he them. For now, however, Lloyd was content to stay here in this tree, an old friend by his side.

#ninjago #lloyd #ninjago fanfiction #myfics #of milk and cookies #Brad #Sometimes you write an entire chapter just to give two characters some closure

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ravenloveless13 · 3 years

Text

Pack Ties (Pack Ties Series)

"Pack Ties?" Remus asked, putting the kettle in his hand to turn and look at Lily.

“Yes, apparently it is a magical contract” Lily replied back as she carefully reads the large book that rested on the kitchen table while with her other hand, she was thoughtfully stroking her swollen belly “a werewolf creates this magical bond with the members of their family, that way when the full moon comes and he loses control, they would be the only ones he could not hurt”

Remus took the two cups of tea; Lily's, with milk and sugar, and his only with sugar. He brought them to the table to sit across from his friend. That was his day to "take care" of Lily because since she had become pregnant, James had become paranoid about her safety and although all the marauders knew that the redhead was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, no one in their right mind would attempt Lily's wrath in this state. They had agreed that for Jame’s and their peace of mind (because James could become a real pain in the ass when he gets worried about Lily and the baby safety) one of the marauders would stay with his wife if he had to go out on an Order mission. On that day it was Remus's turn and although he loved spending time with his friend, he was a bit nervous about it since the night of the full moon is near.

"I've never heard of that," he said once he took a seat across from Lily and handed her her cup of tea.

“Well ... apparently it is an extremely ancient ritual, but it is not entirely proven. This contract does not guarantee that the werewolf will preserve their human mind during the transformation as the Wolfsbane potion does, but it does guarantee that the wolf does not attack their family. It says that the contract links the magic of the wolf and the other person, making it feel like they're part of their pack.

"Hmmm makes sense..." Remus muttered as he leaned back into the chair and stared at his reflection in the cup of tea in front of him.

During several of his missions from the Order, Remus had encountered several wizards with the same curse as him and had observed that no matter what, they never hurt each other on the full moon.

"We should try," Lily said smiling as she closed the book.

“Hey?”

“We should try it, maybe that will help you not to have so much pressure during a full moon. We could all join you, that way you could finally spend the nights here with us instead of in the woods”

“Lily I don't think that's a good idea, it's too dangerous”

“So are all those missions that Dumbledore makes you do and you do not protest about it.” “Those are different…”

“How is that different ...? Remy, whether you like it or not, you are part of this family, we’re your pack. James, Sirius, Peter, and I care a lot about you, especially when you have to spend the full moon all alone. And now with this war that breathes us, the ingredients for your potion will become scarce and those idiots will find it difficult to accompany you. Also when Harry is born I will not allow you to get away from us. Let us try this, please. Look, the ceremony must be done under the new moon which will be super safe. James and the others can get the ingredients that we need and I'll make the potion, so you don't have to worry about a thing…Hmmm, I wonder if by drinking it now Harry will be bonded or if we will have to do it all over again when he's older? Well, it doesn't matter.”

Remus let his friend keep talking to herself while she planned and organized everything. He just couldn't say no to her and understood that Lily wanted to help him. After all, ever since she joined them and discovered that the boys had turned into Animagi to help him, she had not only kept the secret but was responsible for making and giving him his Wolfsbane potion whenever she could. Remus's mind wandered off a bit at the thought of not being dangerous to his friends. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he couldn't deny the fact that if the potion could work, then it would take a huge weight off his shoulders. Knowing that no matter what, he wouldn't hurt James, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and soon Harry, allowing him to breathe calmly.

"So Remy, what do you say… shall we give it a try?" Lily smiled excitedly with bright eyes. It had been so long since Remus had seen her so excited about something that he just chuckled before sighing.

“Even if I tell you no because it is dangerous and maybe it won't work, I know you will ignore me and move on or worse, you will make our idiots bother me until I give in, so why deny me if in the long run you always get away with what you want?” Remus smiled and Lily approached him to hug him or so she tried because she ended up smashing her belly in his face where Remus felt the baby kick him.

"Wooo I think even Harry agrees," she agreed.

♡/~/~/~/~/~♡/~/~/~/~/~/♡~/~/~/~/~/♡

Summer 1985

Uncle Vernon's car pulled up outside the forest that looked dark and scary. The huge man got out of his car still mumbling under his mustache and yanked the back door open before pulling the little boy out of the car.

Harry let himself be dragged by the arm, too scared to say anything. He knew he had done something wrong, although he still did not understand what it had been. All he had done was ate a cookie that had flown into his hand when Aunt Petunia's friends were in the living room drinking tea. Harry had quickly learned that he could have a few extra snacks if he waited for Aunt Petunia's friends to come over for their weekly tea party because being surrounded by other people, his Aunt Petunia couldn't yell at him and wouldn't tell Uncle Vernon because she didn’t want to have to suspense her tea parties. Harry was quite small for his age, but his teacher always said that what Harry lacked in height, he made up for in cunning. And although Harry did not understand the meaning of that word, in his head that must be a good thing because his teacher always said it with a cute smile in her face instead of the typical grimace of disgust that his uncle made him every time they called him an ungrateful freak, two other words that Harry still didn't understand but made him feel bad inside.

Uncle Vernon released Harry causing the little boy to stagger a bit since they were already deep in the forest and if it weren't for the full moon, everything would be pitch black.

"Where are we, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, rubbing his arm where his uncle had gripped him so tightly.

"Don't ask questions boy!" The man yelled which caused Harry to turn away in fear, he didn't like it when his uncle yelled at him, that only meant that he was going to get hit or have a long time out in his cupboard, and Harry didn't like either one or the other.

“You are going to stay here freak so that you learn that you should be grateful for the ceiling over your head and keep all your freakiness under control!!”

“bu..but ... it's scary here” Harry is scared but not as scared when he sees his uncle's face turn red in the moonlight.

“But? Did you say but?!” Vernon growled before raising his hand to slap the little boy so hard that made his glasses fall off. “UNGRATEFUL FREAK!!! EVERYTHING WE'VE DONE FOR YOU AND THAT'S HOW YOU ANSWER ME!!! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FREAK FACE AGAIN!!” He yelled before turning and leaving Harry there alone sobbing as he tries to find his glasses.

When Harry put his glasses back on, he realized that he really had been left alone in the terrifying forest. Still sobbing from the blow, Harry winced when he heard a howl in the distance. He remembered that once his teacher had read them a book about animals like wolves, foxes, and owls that usually lived in the woods. Harry's favorite had undoubtedly been the wolf, but the teacher had assured them that these were the most dangerous out there and that they should never approach one or it could eat them.

Trying to ignore the pain from his face due to the slap and his little arm, Harry wiped his nose on his shirt and started walking, unsure of where to go. Maybe if he was lucky, he would find a candy cottage like the one in the story they had started reading at school. They had not finished the story yet because the teacher stopped when Aunt Petunia completed that the teacher was fully their minds with nonsense. Harry remember that his teacher stop the story when the kind old woman let the siblings stay to eat and sleep at her house. Hopefully, Harry might be as lucky as them.

The little boy walked for a long time until he felt Dudley's old shoes hurt him, so he opted to curl up next to a tree to get some rest. He felt really tired because, after the cookie incident, Aunt Petunia made her friends leave and forced Harry to clean up the backyard, which was not strange, however, what was strange for him was that his uncle came later with his face exceptionally red and forced him to get into the car. Harry didn't like the car very much because he would always feel sick or slide down from the seat when his uncle made a hard turn, which he had done all that afternoon by not knowing where to go. When night fell, the journey slowed down, Harry thought they were heading home. The truth was he didn't understand why his uncle had taken him on such a strange ride when it was clearly noticeable, from the rudeness that he kept mumbling, that he was very angry with Harry. But now lost in that dark forest, Harry understood that this had not been a fun ride because he doubted his uncle would come back for him.

The howls were heard again closer now and Harry snuggled up in fear. A wolf was nearby and he sounded angry, very angry. Suddenly, in the moonlight, a huge wolf appeared in front of Harry. It had a stunning brown fur that Harry would have liked to be able to pet if it hadn't been showing its teeth as it growled.

Harry froze and for some strange reason in his mind, he was grateful that he didn't feel like going to pee as he wouldn't have liked being eaten by a wolf with his pants wet. The wolf's footsteps were silent as he approached Harry, still growling as his nose moved frantically in his direction. Harry noticed that the wolf's eyes were a beautiful amber color that did not leave his face. When Harry felt the hot breath of the wolf breathe on him, the little boy closed his eyes and tried not to cry in fear but the tears were already running down his face.

Suddenly and without any explanation, a large and wet tongue licked Harry's face, causing the little boy to giggle when the wolf licked him again, this time down to the base of his hair which remained half stopped by saliva.

"No Mr. Wolf, don't do that," Harry laughed as the wolf continued to lick his face, however when it licked his cheek where his uncle had hit him, Harry let out a groan of pain.

The Wolf pulled away and growled as Harry was startled again for a moment as he thought he had made him angry. The Wolf began to walk in circles, growling even louder before letting out a furious howl. The boy did not move but something inside him told him that although the Wolf seemed angry, he was not angry with him.

After a while of walking in circles, the Wolf approached Harry again, staring at him. The emerald green eyes were lost for a moment in the amber gaze until a growl came out of the boy's stomach which made him look away in embarrassment. With all the fright of being lost in the woods, Harry had completely forgotten how hungry he was, after all the last thing he had eaten had been a cookie.

The Wolf who had sat across from Harry stared at him until he seemed to make up his mind. Then, with great care, the Wolf moved closer to Harry and crouched low enough for the little one to climb onto his back.

"Can I ... can I get on?" Harry asked not quite sure why he thought he understood what Mr. Wolf wanted to say to him.

With a single nod from the Wolf, Harry scrambled up onto the animal's back. Once Harry managed to get comfortable and grab onto his fur, which was actually quite soft, the Wolf got up and started trotting through the forest, not going too fast so he would not scare or make the boy fall.

As the wind was blowing Harry's hair, he wondered for a moment if he was not dreaming because riding such a huge wolf was the kind of dreams that his aunt could considered like stupid nonsense.

After a while, the Wolf led Harry to a small log cottage in the middle of the forest. Harry was a bit disappointed to see that the cottage wasn't made of sweets, but he had to admit it looked like a nice place to live. The Wolf crouched down and let Harry get out.

"Do you live here, Mr. Wolf?" Harry asked and the wolf nodded before getting up on its hind legs to open the door. It seemed unreal to Harry that a wolf could be nearly as tall as his Uncle Vernon. When the door finally opened, the Wolf nudged Harry inside.

Again Harry was a little disappointed that inside the cottage there were no chocolate tables or candy chairs as in the story, however, the boy had to admit that the place was quaint.

The cottage had a single large room where the kitchen was, a table with two chairs and a sofa in front of a fireplace that was lit. Harry also saw some stairs that probably led to a second floor and a basement, but what really caught the boy's attention was a photograph he saw on a pile of books next to the sofa.

The photo was moving! Harry saw in this a very pretty woman with long reddish hair who laughed out loud with her eyes closed as a deer went in and out of the photo making very ridiculous jumps.

‘That is indeed a silly image’ Harry thought, but for some reason, it also made him very happy. Harry didn't realize how long he'd stood there staring at that beautiful photo until he felt Mr. Wolf sting his back with his snout. Turning around, the boy found that the Wolf had brought him apples.

"Are they ... for me?" Harry asked, unable to contain the emotion in his voice and the Wolf nodded. Harry held up the two apples and not caring that they weren't candies like the ones the siblings in the story ate in the cottage, Harry devoured them. Rarely on Privet Drive aunt Petunia would bring apples or any kind of fresh fruit since Dudley hated them, however, once she "forgot" to send Harry his lunch, the teacher had given him an apple and for Harry, it had tasted delicious. The Wolf simply stared at the boy eating the fruit with such emotion and wondered when was the last time the little boy had eaten since he hadn't weighed anything when he had carried it.

When Harry finished his fruit, he spotted a trash can and tossed the apple cores there before yawning. Already calmer and enveloped by the warmth of the fireplace in the cottage, Harry started to feel sleepy. The wolf approached and without waiting for Harry to say something, he carefully lifted him from that big shirt that the boy was wearing and carried him to the sofa, where he sat him before jumping on it and putting his head between his legs.

Harry yawned again and rubbed his eye under his glasses, careful not to bruise his sore cheek. The wolf did not stop looking at him at any moment and when Harry turned to see him, he licked his injured cheek very, very carefully. That had felt different from how Mr. Wolf had licked it in the forest, for some reason Harry felt in his heart that the Wolf seemed to want to push away the pain he felt on his cheek and that only made the boy feel safe with the animal.

“Mr. Wolf ... do you think ... I can stay here with you?” Harry asked when the Wolf stopped licking his face. His cheek didn't hurt so much anymore.

The wolf's amber eyes returned to Harry's and Harry thought that if he didn't say something quickly, the Wolf might say no.

“I promise I will be good, and and and ... and I also can clean the floor and wash the dishes. I even know how to cook eggs and bacon” Harry said quickly with his hands a little shaky. He wasn't lying, he knew how to do that and more because they were the typical chores that Aunt Petunia made him do almost every day, but he still had problems cooking the bacon because it still burned a little because he was afraid of the oil since it had been burned the first time, but he couldn't let Mr. Wolf know that or he wouldn't let him stay.

The Wolf averted his eyes from Harry thoughtfully and suffocating anguish flooded the boy's chest. What if Mr. Wolf says no? where would he go? Uncle Vernon had told him that he never wanted to see his freaky face again which meant he couldn't go back to them. What would he do now that he was homeless?

A soft sob rose from Harry's chest as he hid his little face between his knees. Since he was little the Dursleys had taught him with a strong hand that he must not cry, so Harry always waits for the darkness of his cupboard to let his tears come out if he had had a bad day, and that had definitely been a bad day, at least until Mr. Wolf had arrived. Now with a full stomach and in a warm place, Harry allowed himself to cry because now he was truly alone and forever because no one wanted him.

The Wolf got off the couch and walked over to Harry to look at him as the little boy tried to hold back his tears.

"I ... don't have a home, Mr. Wolf ... please ... please ... let me stay" Harry sobbed.

It was moments like those when Harry felt the loneliest. Where he was aware that there was no one in the world who cared about him. No one would give him a cookie once in a while or worry if he would get hurt or wasn’t home or stay with him at night until he went to sleep.

No one...

Because the only people who could have done that for him were his parents, who had died in a car crash and Harry would never see them again. The Wolf moved closer to the boy and let out a groan of sadness. To Harry, it was as if the Wolf was trying to comfort him or was sad for him, which made him calm down a bit. Perhaps no adult cared for Harry but Mr. Wolf seems to and that was enough to make the boy smile again.

Harry hugged Wolf's head for a while before the Wolf leaped back onto the couch and pulled Harry by his shirt to lie on top of him.

"I promise you will not regret it, Mr. Wolf, I will always be very good and obedient ... so please, let me stay," Harry muttered, hiding his half-asleep face between the brown fur of the Wolf that smelled of chocolate.

♡/~/~/~/~/♡~/~/~/~/~/~/~♡/~/~/~/~/♡

Harry shifted a bit on the couch as the delicious smell of bacon hit his nostrils. Sitting a little sleepy, Harry noted to his delight that he was still in Mr. Wolf's cottage, however, when he looked around, Mr. Wolf was nowhere to be seen.

No, the only thing Harry saw, other than the incredible amount of books and photos that were moving around, was a young brown-haired man in the kitchen with his back to him who was whistling to himself. Harry crouched nervously on the couch. ‘Where was Mr. Wolf? Was that man the owner of the cottage? What if that man made him leave? What if he got mad at him? What if he hurt him more than Uncle Vernon did?’ Harry thought to himself.

The man turned away from the stove and turned, making his eyes fall on Harry, but instead of looking angry, Harry sees happiness in them.

"Good morning Harry," he said approaching Harry, allowing him to notice the different scars that adorned the arms and neck of that man.

"How ... how do you know my name?" Harry asked, forgetting the rule of not asking questions that his uncles had imposed onto him.

The man calmly approached and knelt down in front of Harry who was still curled up on the couch. The man's amber eyes reminded him of Mr. Wolf's eyes.

"I've known you for a long time, Harry, even before you were born," he said calmly looking at the boy with a fondness that Harry had only seen in his Aunt Petunia's eyes when he looked at Dudley.

"Really?" Harry felt something strange inside him that made him trust every word that man said.

“Yes, your parents and I were good friends, practically family.” he said as he raised his hand carefully so as not to scare Harry and stroking his hair.

“Family ... like a pack? That's the family of wolves, isn't it?” Harry asked excitedly to remember something they had taught him at school.

The man looked at him with an expression of surprise and amazement before letting out a very pleasant laugh that caused Harry to giggle. He definitely liked that man, he wasn't scary.

“You are absolutely right cub, like a pack,” said the man taking Harry in his arms, and although Harry had learned to stay away from any type of contact that adults wanted to give him because usually they always wanted to harm him.

But something in that man's eyes told Harry that nothing and no one would ever hurt him if he stayed with him, so the boy concluded that it was okay for him to put his little arms around that adult's neck as well as had done the night before while he slept on Mr. Wolf.

"What's your name, sir?" Harry asked as the man sat him on one of the dining room chairs to put in front of him a plate of eggs with bacon and orange juice.

“Remus Lupin, cub. But you can call me Moony”

#remus lupin #harry potter #werewolves #lily potter #magic #harry potter au #moony #packties

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nicostolemybones · 5 years

Text

Transitioning to Manhood

Will felt a strange nostalgia looking at the box his mother had sent him, although it wasn’t a bittersweet feeling. It was a twisting feeling in his gut, a horrible reminder that his mom was clearing the house of all reminders of her child, trying to get the child she thought she remembered to snap out of a phase and return home. He picked up a knitted hat, barely the size of his fist- he’d been born premature, and his grandmother had knitted the tiny pink hat as soon as she received news of his birth. It was a pale pastel pink, almost white, a pearly quality to the colour, but years of collecting damp in a cardboard box had tinged it a dusty, damp grey. There were photographs, and Will was bombarded with pigtails and frilly dresses and patent shoes buckled with bows. “I think I would have cried if I’d been put in that monstrosity,” Lou-Ellen said softly, pointing at the photograph Will was currently holding, featuring him in a pink frilly dress for a Church wedding, holding a basket of bright pink and red rose petals, bawling his eyes out and lifting up the hem of the skirt to wipe his face. He looked about five.

The next picture showed the same dress covered in mud, Will grinning like a maniac chasing the vicar’s daughter with a worm in his hands and one shoe missing, hair a tangled mess. Cecil snorted and laughed. “Please tell me you put that worm down the back of her dress!”

“Nah, she picked up a bigger worm and chased me with it instead. We were friends in kindergarten,” Will replied, pointing out a photograph of him in pink flowery dungarees sitting opposite the girl, who was wearing the same dungarees in blue. “We made mud pies and put them in her father’s shoes in that picture,” Will said sadly, “we got into trouble for boyish behaviour and making a mess.” Will unceremoniously shoved the photographs into the bottom of the box, taking a few deep breaths.

“Are you okay, Will,” Lou-Ellen asked gently, placing her hand on his back and rubbing small circles.

“Yeah,” Will sighed, staring emptily into the box before picking out his birth certificate and staring at it. “I don’t know,” Will amended, and Cecil took the certificate out of his hands.

“We should burn this,” Cecil announced, “it’s useless. If you end up needing it for anything, you can just get it re-printed at the register office. Although you might wanna make some changes to it first. Until you can do that legally, Connor and Travis owe me a massive favour, if you’d like.” Will let out a small laugh, burying his face in his hands.

“My whole childhood is in this box,” Will said quietly, “and my mom’s throwing away all of her favourite memories of me, and I can’t bring myself to look at them.”

“Hey,” Lou-Elllen began gently, “we’ll make new memories, new photographs.These aren’t your memories, they’re your mom’s ideal childhood for you, it’s all the parts she didn’t like taken out and the select few moments she did pruned carefully and displayed to be her image of perfection. You don’t have to keep any of this, because that’s not how your childhood felt to you. They aren’t pictures of you, they’re pictures of the child your mom wanted everybody to see, they aren’t pictures that truly represent your childhood. You aren’t obliged to hold onto somebody else's image of you.”

“We can burn all of it later, mate,” Cecil offered, “just us if you want. And Nico too, of course. Kayla and Austin too maybe, if they aren’t busy.”

“Yeah,” Will sighed, “shoot it with a burning arrow or something.”

“That’s the spirit,” Cecil grinned mischievously, taking the box from Will, “I’ll go take this to my cabin and get my siblings to thoroughly vandalise everything so before you burn it you can have a laugh.”

“Thanks,” Will laughed, and Lou-Ellen pulled him into her shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, dude,” Cecil smiled, “and you, my bi-hexual girlfriend!” He kissed Lou-Ellen’s cheek and jogged off.

“Do you wanna go find Nico?”

“He’s got training now,” Will replied, “but I wanna go talk to Clarisse, do you know where I could find her?”

“I saw her heading to her cabin before I came here,” Lou-Ellen replied, “I’m gonna go work on creating some more sigils, okay?” She kissed Will’s cheek before heading towards her cabin, and Will set out to find Clarisse. She wasn’t in her cabin, or in the armory- Will found her sitting outside the currently empty Aphrodite cabin, holding a pale green and cream chiffon scarf in her hands. Will sat beside her, bumping her shoulder.

“It was Silena’s,” Clarisse said gently, “her favourite hijab. She used to cover it with pins and I’d put flowers through the pins. After we burned her shroud, we uh… her parents invited me to her funeral, at the Masjid. The mosque, that is.”

“It’s beautiful,” Will said, “you should keep it. She’d want you to have it.”

“Yeah,” Clarisse sighed, “don’t tell anyone I went soft, you hear me, Solace?”

“Message received and understood,” Will smiled, and Clarisse punched him lightly in the arm.

“She taught me how to put on makeup,” Clarisse admitted, “she used to do it real subtle, so nobody would know. She’d contour my whole face and she’d put on neutral eye shadows and clear mascara, cherry chapstick muted with matte powder.”

“I never noticed you wearing makeup,” Will replied.

“That’s because that was the point. She made it look completely natural. I’m not exactly… feminine.”

“But she taught you how you could be butch and still be pretty, right?”

“Exactly,” Clarisse replied, “she helped me to pass.”

“A true ally,” Will smiled, resting his head on her shoulder, “how have you been recovering from surgery?”

“I’ve had worse pain,” Clarisse smiled, “I’m still getting used to the extra weight on my chest, but Chris likes them just as much as I do, I think.” Will chuckled lightly, and Clarisse put her arm around him. “Anyway, you look like shit, Solace, what happened?”

“My mom,” Will replied dejectedly, “she sent a box of stuff from my childhood. I’m gonna burn it all later. Cecil’s idea.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Clarisse said, squeezing his shoulder roughly, “providing I can take a baseball bat to everything first.”

“You can rip the birth certificate before I shoot everything with a burning arrow” Will offered, and Clarisse chuckled lightly.

“That’s my boy,” Clarisse grinned, punching his arm lightly.

“The thing is… I don’t hate my childhood,” Will began honestly. “I didn’t always know I was trans, I didn’t always hate myself, I just couldn’t understand that weird out of place feeling, you know? I didn’t know why things made me uncomfortable. I only started figuring it out when I came to camp… and now, it hurts to look at all the pictures, because they… they don’t feel like I’m looking at photographs of me, and the more I tell myself that’s me, the more I can’t stand to look at them, because I look so female. But my childhood wasn’t a sad one, I… I was loved once, I used to pretend I had nightmares so my mom would give me these butter cookies with warm milk. She knew I was usually faking it, but she didn’t care as long as I smiled.”

“Tell me more,” Clarisse probed gently, before wrapping Silena’s scarf around his shoulders when she noticed a breeze, keeping her arm around his shoulder.

“She didn’t always have a lot of time for me, with the singing and all,” Will began, “but when she did have time for me, we always did something. She used to take me to my grandma’s farm a lot. The chickens didn’t like me much, but there was this baby calf my grandma let me name. Which was a terrible decision, I called it Dustbin Grass,” Will announced with a small laugh. Clarisse snorted, and Will continued. “Anyway, the calf used to come in through the back door and lay down in the middle of the sitting room, and I’d curl up next to the calf. We had a height chart on the wall, and I’d always compare my height with the calf every week. And other days, my mom would take me on day trips. Sometimes it was just to the local park or play area, we’d feed the ducks and sit in the sun with a picnic. I’d always go on the slide, although some days it was so hot the metal burned and I’d start crying. My mom always used to wrap me up in a warm hug and she’d tell me that it was all okay.”

“That sounds nice,” Clarisse said sincerely, and Will continued to share his memories.

“I wasn’t so good with all the school stuff. When I was a kid, I hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD yet, or dyslexia, but I still struggled. I was behind everybody in the class on my reading and writing and my handwriting was always terrible. I used to get frustrated and walk out a lot. And after break time, I always had a hard time calming down, so I used to be super bouncy and I’d need something to fidget with. And of course, I was a kid, so the louder the better. I’d get into trouble a lot and get sent out of class. I used to cry because I thought I was dumb, but my mom always told me I was the smartest. She’d take me on nature walks, and she’d point out different trees and birds and insects and I’d tell her what they were. And at one point, I could identify native birds by their calls. My mom made me feel smart, and I didn’t feel smart again until I came to camp.”

“How the fuck did they think you were dumb?”

“Classism, sexism, and ableism. Anyway, my mom and I used to have pamper weekends, where we’d just sit out in the garden with bowls of cold water for our feet and face masks, and we’d watch the clouds if there were any. Mom never used to put enough sunscreen on herself and she used to end up looking like a lobster. We’d talk about how our weeks had been, and about my mom’s record deals and tours. She mainly toured the South, she didn’t usually go far out from Texas, but I’ve always been travel sick and I can’t really handle anything over half an hour, so it was always better to leave me at home with my grandma sometimes. My mom and I lived in the city in Austin, but my grandma lived on a ranch. She used to make me cookies all the time and she’d tell me stories of mom’s childhood and her childhood. She’d tell me how lucky I was. My grandma was a lesbian, but things when she were young were… well, worse than they are today, so… she married a man and had kids and buried who she was. She always told me that I couldn’t help who I was, and that if ever I figured myself out and I wasn’t straight, then it was okay and she’d love me just the same. The vicar used to sit and have tea with my grandma every day, because he had a gay son and he wanted her advise on how to support him.”

“Your gran is a legend,” Clarisse smiled, “is she still with us or…”

“I wish I knew,” Will sighed sadly, “grandpa died when I was six and the year after, my nan met a woman, and she moved away and my mom refused to let me have her address or contact her. Everyone always assumes my mom is kind and loving because I have such happy childhood memories. But when you have a child, if you can’t love your child unconditionally, then you never loved them at all. I grew up, knowing, just knowing… that one day, I’d do or say something and my mom would know I was bisexual and my mom wouldn’t love me anymore. Knowing that your own mother will stop loving you, for the very thing that gets you beat up in the playground, for the very thing that gets you harassed, knowing that your own mother believes with all of her heart that her child deserves to burn in hellfire and brimstone for eternity just for being attracted to somebody… from a young age I knew that my mother’s love was conditional. For years, I knew that I didn’t meet the conditions for my mother’s love. And then I stopped going home because I was scared and I wasn’t ready to be abandoned by the same woman who promised unconditional love. And then I came out as trans to her and… she sends me the box. And it’s not just a box to remind me of my childhood, it’s all her favourite memories. It’s the drawings she stuck to the fridge, the photos she showed guests, the things she was most proud of me for. It’s her way of telling me that she hates me so much that those memories are worthless to her. Happy childhoods are empty gestures when a parent’s love is conditional. And I have to face biphobia and transphobia every day of my life, but it’s worse knowing I don’t have a home. My home is a summer camp. I’m alone. If the woman who swore to love me unconditionally, swore by her bible to love me and protect me and fulfil her god given role as a parent, can cast me aside like I’m disgusting, then how am I ever meant to feel anything but wrong? How am I meant to convince myself I’m worthy of love? I can’t even use public restrooms without fearing for my safety, how am I meant to feel safe enough to trust anybody?”

“Hey,” Clarisse began, squeezing Will’s shoulder, “you’re never alone. No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’ll kick a transphobes teeth, you know I will. We have to stick together, we can’t let the community be divided, okay? We’ll look out for each other. You’re not unloved. I love you. My mom is your mom now, okay? Actually no, I’m your mom now, kiddo. And you have the best friends you could ask for, okay? Lou-Ellen can and will hex anybody who tries to put you down. Cecil’s always got your back, he pranked that Athena kid real good, remember? And you have Nico. You’re dating the Son of Hades. He can and will turn anyone into a ghost if they hurt you. That boy loves you, okay? Your self-worth is not defined by your mother’s prejudice. Nico’s friends- Jason, Percy, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Piper, Reyna, Leo- they’re all allies we can trust. You’re not a boy anymore, Solace, you’re a man now. You’re making your own way in a world where the odds are stacked against you. You just gotta keep going. People will hate you no matter what you do. So surround yourself with allies, keep going no matter how bleak, stay strong, and when you can’t stay strong, use your support network. We’ll both survive if we stick together. If you feel scared to go outside, come and find me. We’ll keep each other safe. And remember. You’re perfect, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Aphrodite would want you to respect yourself and love yourself. Your dad would want you to shine and spread light amongst the hate, to rise no matter how many times you’re pushed down. My dad would want you to fight back and never stop fighting for your rights, our rights, for what you believe in. And I’m sure most of the other gods support you too.”

“Damn girl, now I know why you’re in charge of motivational battle speeches,” Will smiled, and Clarisse ruffled his hair.

“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna get back to that infirmary, and carry on as normal, okay? And then we’re gonna burn your birth certificate and all the other stuff.”

“I had my T shot this morning,” Will stated with a small smile, “after a few months, people no longer misgender me when they hear my voice and for once in my life, I like how I sound. I feel like me. My dysphoria is… it’s so much less intense than it used to be. I feel safer in public, I feel confident enough to speak as loud as I want without fearing judgment or misgendering or violence.”

“You’re getting a bit of a fluffy mustache too there, Solace,” Clarisse teased light-heartedly, and Will laughed happily. “I’ve gotta go teach the Aphrodite girls some self-defence classes, you have to prepare for the influx of inevitable injuries because the Ares cabin and the Athena cabin are sparring in the arena.”

Will went about the rest of his day with his head held high. For once, he felt proud of who he was, of the man he’d become, of the way he hadn’t let the hate he’d heard turn him hateful, how he helped people, how he tried his best to make every camper feel like they had a safe space, a home. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he had for such a long time. He prided himself on his kindness, and he vowed never to lose it.

So later that day, the camp stood around a pit of flames at the beach, all turned out to show their solidarity bar a few. Will wore his flag as a cape, and everybody cheered when Clarisse marched in still in her armour from the day, with a ‘fuck the cis-tem’ jacket, and ripped up Will’s birth certificate. Will smiled as he threw the photographs into the flames, one by one, his friends all cheering and clapping. He watched every painful reminder, every perfect image of his mother’s ideal child- graffitied on with funny mustaches and devil horns on his mom, courtesy of the Hermes cabin- of conditional love and rejection, go up in flames. For once, Will wasn’t defined by his past, but rather by his future, one surrounded by allies and friends from all walks of life. People of many religions and races, sexualities, and genders. And even better, he received a loving kiss from his boyfriend in front of the crowd. For once, he didn’t look back.

@solangeloweek day 2, childhood/back story building

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mochhio · 5 years

Text

Karasuno’s last party

Hey hey hey! Cookies!

This is my gift for @theorangecourt‘s anniversary event! I can’t believe it’s been a year minus 1 month

I hope you like this! It’s 2.5k words of Karasuno fluff and being dorks (plus it ended up being a balm to cure recent manga induced injuries what do you know).

Basically Karasuno’s third years are graduating and the team wants to do something for them! So what’s better than throwing a slumber party?

After Nationals, Karasuno’s third years are left with no more excuses to continue being on the team. Through February and March, the four of them are too busy with their exams, job hunting, college applications, and all the responsibilities that convey being a senior student in high school a step away from graduating. It’s difficult enough for them to squeeze some time to meet their underclassmen in the halls. Suga likes to visit the 1st years’ classes while they’re on lunch break, Kiyoko texts regularly with Yachi offering advice (she knows Yachi would be too embarrassed to “inconvenience” Kiyoko like that), Daichi tries to keep his distance slightly from Ennoshita since he doesn’t want it to seem like he doesn’t trust Enno with the team. The one who has slightly more time to come by is Asahi, he even manages to stay and practice sometimes whenever Take-chan doesn’t berate him for it.

No one doubted that the new starting team would be as good as how it had been with the third years, but their absence is felt. Not so much as how they play in court (though obviously they still have a ways to go before getting properly in sync) so much as the hole they left in the team dynamics. Everyone misses them, some more vocally than others, and it's such a waste that they were taken from the team so abruptly without even a proper goodbye!

Hinata tells Kenma all of this during one of their usual text convos, he would really want to have a bomb-ass party so they can send off their senpai properly! He knows Tanaka and Noya would help him, although maybe the rest would be a little reluctant to comply with any of their crazy plans. Still! He wants the team to do something special for them! And that’s when the idea pops, how about they have a training camp!

He tries to be sneaky and tell Kageyama first but he's soon caught by the rest of the first years. Yamaguchi and Yachi think that's a great idea! Though Tsukishima is soon to destroy any of his enthusiasm. "We're almost at the end of the year, where could you fit in a training camp? Plus, the third years are too busy as is". Hinata's solution is to host the training camp after school ends duh! And in his moment of bravado to prove Tsukishima wrong they go to Ennoshita.

"It's ridiculous."

"It's genius!"

"In fact, it is ridiculous." Ennoshita turns down Hinata's idea without a second thought. "Tsukishima's right, even if we could fit in a camp the third years wouldn't be able to participate."

Not officially at least, so Hinata hangs on to that, "But what about a non-official training camp? The weekend after graduation?" That doesn't sound too bad honestly, and if it's not official Ennoshita has no saying in denying it and so, they go to Ukai and Take-chan. After some initial reluctance, they manage to convince them and so, the only thing that's left is to get the third years to agree. Fortunately, they agree to it! It sounds like a good idea and the best way to celebrate.

Since it’s not official they all have to chip in with a little contribution, even the neighbors association and family cooperate to make the whole thing possible. They booked rooms in the same inn where they stayed for the golden week, Ukai brings snacks and drinks from Sakanoshita and Shimada also gets stuff from the supermarket. Akiteru offers his old TV and console for them to play and watch movies, Takinoue lends them a karaoke set and helps set it (with the inn’s approval ofc) and Saeko brings proper food from her job.

They have a slumber party! They play Mario Kart, Daichi and Tsukishima are the ones always fighting for the first place. Usually, when he plays at home with his family since Daichi is the big bro he’s used to utterly destroying his little siblings in any and all videogames. Subsequently, even if Akiteru was always a big softie with Tsukki, as any respectable older sibling, he had no mercy when it came to games. So for both Tsukki and Daichi, it feels like something personal and somehow this petty rivalry ends up in the whole team dividing into two teams for the rest of the night. Older siblings vs younger ones, with the only children being picked in the end as if they were forming dodgeball teams.

So we have the Older sibs team comprised of Daichi, Hinata, Asahi, Kinoshita, Noya, Narita and Kiyoko. And the younger sibs: Tsukki, Tanaka, Yamaguchi (he also had to suffer Akiteru’s gamer bloodthirst), Suga, Ennoshita, Kageyama and Yachi

For the first few rounds after they started playing in teams the YS were winning everything. Not even 20 minutes into it Kinoshita had to stop Noya from trying to leap at Tsukishima and get rid of his smug grin and snarky remarks. It’s getting late and someone is going to end up getting thrown a real banana to their head so they decide to start with karaoke early. Both because they don’t want to be too much trouble for the owners but mostly to have everyone at peace and far from using their controllers as actual projectiles. Also, they do have to wrap up everything early since Take-chan managed to get the school gym open for the next day so they can have one last practice as a team.

Somehow they manage to turn karaoke into a competition and despite Asahi being timid as usual, the pure raw of Noya (with Kinoshita as his second vocals), feral Suga, Hinata’s...well all of him (it seems like he injected pure sugar into his bloodstream) is enough to beat the others in any screaming competition. “It is not a screaming competition” Daichi tries to settle them down with no luck. Also, who would’ve known Kiyoko and Narita knew the lyrics to all of the power rangers intros huh.

On the other hand, Tsukki outright refused to sing, Kageyama trips over his own tongue and they found out how tragical his timing is outside of volleyball, Yachi looks like he’s going to get a heart attack and drench her clothes in sweat. That is until Tanaka tells her they should do a duet. “But I don’t even know this song!”, “Don’t worry! It’s screamo so just let it all out” and MAN does she let it out, they won that round no doubts. Other than that Ennoshita is pretty mellow, and Yamaguchi does have a nice voice but this is a war and he’s going to need more than that to win.

Now they’re 1 to 1 and they definitely should go to sleep now but they can’t leave the score like this. So they try to settle it with a quick and simple game of charades. Oh, but how foolish were they.

Since this is technically a celebration for the third years the team decides it’s only fair to have them write the papers down. They use movies, shows, obscure references no one will guess courtesy of Suga, the team members themselves, anything they can think of.

Surprisingly it is not as chaotic as it could be, somehow they get so focused during their rounds to start bickering with the other team. The MVP definitely is Yachi, from the first action the player does she starts shouting any and all the words she can think of, it would sound as if she��s making random guesses but since she has so much attention to even the smallest of detail her guesses end up being accurate more times than not. Tanaka does pretty much the same but his guesses are way off, although he makes up for it being incredibly expressive whenever his turn to act out the charade comes. Another scary addition to the YS team is Ennoshita who is able to guess every single movie before the player in turn even finishes acting it and though no one other than Suga himself gets his own references since some of them are cinematographic Enno manages to hold a candle to those.

Somehow Tsukki gets too caught up in the whole thing that he forgets to wear his usual uninterested façade and plays seriously, he even gets angry when Kageyama fails to guess most of the references. “That’s milk? Cheese? A cheeseburger?”, “IT’S TOAST YOU ABSOLUTE MORON”. Needless to say they lost that round by default but watching poker-faced Tsukki get genuinely worked up is worth it. When Yamaguchi gets ‘Kageyama’ he ruffles his hair over his eyes to look emo and brooding, puts on a scowl and starts making tossing noises. For a hot 10 no one talks, not because they don’t know what the word is, but because they know and don’t want to laugh so loud in front of Kageyama himself. Which is really difficult since Kageyama himself is completely oblivious and genuinely trying to figure out what Yamaguchi is hinting at until Tsukki snaps and shouts “IT’S YOU, DUMBASS”. The team can’t contain their laughter as Kageyama replies with an undignified “Huh?”. “Being around Kageyama has rubbed off on Tsukishima” Hinata quietly tells his team but Tsukki’s ears are sharp as ever and he throws his stare as daggers to Hinata.

For the other team is easier, at least in the sense that there’s no incessant bickering most of the time. But it doesn’t help that the team’s collective braincell is mostly concentrated in the other team. Whenever someone gets Suga’s cards come up the one who reads it spends more time struggling to get what it even means than actually acting it out. “But you were there when he wrote them!” “I didn’t have a clue back then and you expect me to know what it means right now?”. Asahi is better guessing than acting out, though his volume leaves much to be desired and Noya ends up being his megaphone, although he shouts everything and it is barely intelligible. He’s also the ultimate hypeman, cheering everyone up and clapping everyone's backs when they have to stand up to act. However, he’s too focused he ends up scolding the players when they’re not being clear or enthusiastic enough. Hinata is pretty good at acting out but he lets out to many onomatopoeias when he’s supposed to be silent. At first they were giving him penalties but poor thing did it so often they just decided to cover his mouth with a sleep mask whenever it was his turn.

Despite Daichi’s confidence, he’s not exactly what you would call hip with the kids so he stays silent with a deep frown like even understanding the words themselves presents a struggle. That’s just excuses though, whenever he’s in the place of acting he spends more time thinking about what to do than doing it. “BUT YOU WROTE THAT ONE????” “I thought it would be difficult to the other team! I didn’t take a second to genuinely think about how to act out air salonpas!”. It doesn’t help either that he likes to point at stuff which is against the rules, and Suga is quick to let him know by making loud buzzer sounds from his side of the room. The job of guessing is relegated to Kiyoko, Kinoshita, and Narita. Each of them has their strong points which balance each other, still, more than one time they ran out of time because they started arguing in the middle of a charade about what it could be instead of just shouting it like any other normal person!

Overall! The team that managed to keep it together better was...

...

....

.....

The younger siblings.

Hinata feels both Tsukishima’s and Kageyama’s insufferable stares, he instinctively turns to them and witnesses as their faces twist into matching disgusting grimaces, he also catches a glimpse of slight grins in Yamaguchi and Yachi’s faces. Suga comes up to the other three years and tells them to pick up their slack! How is it that all these kids could beat ‘em but he does admit that it would’ve been difficult if it had only been up to him. Noya is kinda bummed but he’s quick to get over it and bring the other two second years to congratulate the other team! He high fives his bro and Suga and pats all the first year’s heads (despite Tsukishima’s reluctance). Narita sighs fondly at the scary 1st years and Kinoshita gives everyone a thumbs up. Noya comes up to Ennoshita and gives him an enthusiastic slap on the back, “Good job Chikara! as expected from our captain!” Everyone falls silent.

The tension is so thick it could be cut up with a knife, no one dares to break the uncomfortable silence, least of all Ennoshita who looks so mortified he might faint at any moment.

Finally, Daichi is the one to step forward and he moves until he reaches Ennoshita grips his shoulder with a firm hand. “Yeah, the team is in good hands.”

Somehow that feels like a punch to Ennoshita’s gut and he moves his face downwards as faint sobs leave him. Just like that, one after the other, quiet sobs can be heard throughout the room. Tears dampening cheeks but never quite reaching the ground. They’re sad tears, happy tears, tears born from frustration and relief and longing, shed for the regrets of the past and the vast unknown that is the future but most importantly they are being shed at the present moment. No one acknowledges them, but no one really needs to. During the past three years Daichi, Kiyoko, Asahi, and Suga have shed lots of tears for different reasons and they know that they’ll continue crying for as long as they keep on fighting.

These waterfalls are not dampening the evening, quite the opposite, they’re the perfect conclusion to their high school career. The four of them helped rebuild this team from the ground up, each of nurturing in their own ways. They all have regrets and things they would’ve done differently but seeing right now their wonderful teammates and everything they’ve achieved together they can have closure and come to terms with saying goodbye and trusting the fruits of their hard work to the next generation.

Eventually, the cryfest stops and even though they try to joke to lighten the mood the 14 of them are left exhausted. They try to clean up some and get ready to take a quick bath and get to sleep.

The next day starts on a better note, they’re all excited for their last practice as a team and vigorously fill up their stomachs before giving it their all.

They warm-up and practice serves as always, or better said as ‘in the old times’. They have enough people to go 6 vs 6 and so they play as many sets as they can. Suga teases them, Daichi tells them to cut their slack, Asahi encourages them and Kiyoko supports them from the sidelines.

They lose track of which team ends up winning, especially since they kept switching members every few sets but who cares about that.

They got to play like they always wanted to, giving it their all, as a family.

#haikyuu!!#hq!! fanfic #hq!! drabble #hq!! spoilers #haikyuu!! spoilers #the orange court exchange #my writing

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