I’ve done it. I’ve finished this beast of a series. I hope it was good for all of you like it was good for me. Hats off to the anon who started this fiasco, I bow to you.
I purposely wrote this last one, Prompto’s, as a conclusion of sorts. I still can’t decide on which one is my favorite. Argh. The sadness. ;_;
“So I’ve been doing some thinking— I do that a lot now—
think— and I… I understand now what you meant when you told me what you did.”
Prompto sat against the weathered stone, gazing across the
plains of Cleigne and to the mountains of thickets in the distance. He twirled
a small yellow feather in between his fingers rhythmically, around and around.
“Before, I don’t think that I— wanted to understand, you
know? But now… now I do, and that’s why…” he let the words trail off his lips,
evaporating with the breeze. A loud chirp echoed in the distance and Prompto’s
mouth curved in a small smile.
“Chichiri is here to see you,” he said as a chocobo rounded
the copse of trees. It ruffled its feathers at the sight of him, excited to see
its rider and gave another chortle. Prompto reached out a gloved hand, running
his fingers through the scruff of its neck as it leaned into his touch.
“Wow,” Keith breathed out as he and Lance walked into the observatory.
“I know, it’s beautiful,” Lance said a small smile on his face as he slowly walked into the starlit room. “I found this place while helping Coran clean out the ship. It’s not really supposed to be used for stargazing but it’ll do the job.”
It had been centuries since pollution had blocked out any starlight that reached Earth. Until they achieved regular space travel only a select few would ever be able to see the stars. Even being the top of his class Keith had never seen any natural light except the sun and moon until he had flown in the Blue Lion for the first time.
“Watch this.” Lance said, the small smile on his face had grown to a grin. He turned around to the control panel along the side of the room and pressed a few buttons making the walls of the observatory turn transparent.
Keith could feel the smile forming on his lips as he spun around in amazed circles. The bright spots of light Illuminating the sea of purple. “You really know how to flatter someone don’t you?” Keith said stopping his turning to look at Lance.
“Well, that was the goal at least.” Lance said, his smile had turned into a silly grin. “Come on,” said Lance smiling before dragging Keith to lie down on the floor with him.
They had been lying on the ground of the observatory both talking aimlessly about their lives, telling stories about their childhood. Lance was halfway through one of his ridiculous stories about his loud and loving family when Keith saw it, a shooting star.
“You should make a wish,” Lance said his smile was softer now, “like they used to do back on earth.”
Keith paused, there were plenty of things to wish for, for this war to end, for the universe to be safe, to go back to Earth so he could meet the family Lance could never shut up about.
He wanted to be able to share this with everyone. He wanted everyone on Earth to be safe to see the stars again. Maybe he could help with environment when they got back to Earth.
He was going to bring the stars home.
“I think I’ve made my wish.” Keith whispered to Lance.
Could you do one where jack has an eating disorder
A/N - This one is quite long so I apologise now, but I couldn’t stop writing!
Jack had his insecurities. Everyone did. But he was never that bothered by them. He didn’t think about them too often until recently. He knew he what he was getting himself into when he started YouTube. He knew there would be haters and people who didn’t like him, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the hate he would receive. Don’t get it wrong, the positive comments completely outweighed the negatives, but they were so personal and more often that not, hurt.
Jack ignored them. He always had. But he recently started reading them for a bit of a laugh to start off with. There were some really stupid people out there, he thought to himself. But then he read more.
“He’s gotten a bit chubby hasn’t he?”
“I think he’s put on a bit of weight”
“Look at the size of him next to the others”
“He shouldn’t be walking around without a top on. He doesn’t have anything to show off about”
Jack read further and further into the comments, reading more and more comments about his body and weight.
“It’s not true. Just ignore it” he mumbled to himself, willing himself to believe what he was saying.
From that day on, Jack was a bit more careful about what he ate. He made his food pile a little smaller and cut out the snacks in between meals. But it still wasn’t enough. So he went to the gym for longer. He woke up early every morning and went to the gym for a few hours to burn off more fat. It was working, but jack didn’t see that. He just saw too much fat. So he cut out breakfast. He didn’t really need it anyway. And soon enough, he ‘forgot’ to eat lunch as he kept telling himself. Whenever one of the boys asked him to go out for a meal, he would just claim he was busy or already eaten. Eventually he just stopped eating altogether, unless someone forced him. Sometimes he couldn’t get out of it, so he would eat. Then, as soon as possible, he would force himself to throw up. He started to feel good again. He felt better, but it wasn’t enough. So he carried on. He stopped seeing people, worried that they would think he was too fat and he spent his time working out. Although he lived with josh and Conor, the two rarely saw him anymore as he was always too ‘busy’. Conor was worried sick about his little brother and had confided in the rest of the group. They all agreed to come round and see what was wrong with Jack.
The doorbell rang and Josh answered the door.
“Hey!” He said as he opened it to Joe and Caspar.
“Hi” they replied, smiling at their friend.
Mikey arrived next, Oli following soon after. The 6 friends sat in the living room, waiting for Jack to join them.
“Does he know we’re coming?” Joe asked.
“I told him but I’m not sure if he was really listening” Josh admitted.
“I miss him mate” Mikey added, everyone agreeing.
“I’ll go hurry him up” Josh said, standing up and walking towards Jacks room. Conor sighed sadly, rubbing his hands through his hair.
“What’s up Con?” Oli asked.
“Jack. I can’t get through to him. I don’t understand what’s wrong”
“Don’t worry. He’s probably just going through a dodgy stage” Caspar added.
Their conversation was interrupted when Jack came down. He gave a small smile as he sat down besides Conor. Everyone just stared, shocked at how different Jack looked. He had circles under his eyes and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His cheekbones were sharper than usual and his clothes seemed far too big.
“So… you alright?” Caspar said, trying to break the silence.
“Hmm yeah” Jack mumbled, nodding his head slightly.
“Right, well lets order this food then shall we” Joe added, trying to change the subject.
An hour later, everyone had eaten their fair share of pizza, apart from Jack. He was forced to eat one slice by Conor.
“I’m not hungry, I ate at lunch”
“I don’t care. You’re going to eat some Jack”
“No buts. Eat” Conor said sternly.
“He’s right mate, one piece is fine” Mikey added.
Jacks eyes watered as he lifted the slice to his mouth. He finished his piece then stood up.
“I’m going to the bathroom” he said quickly before dashing off. Conor watched sadly as Jack ran off.
“I need to stop him”
“Go on Conor. Help him”
“Tell him we understand and that he doesn’t need to change ok” Oli added.
Conor nodded and walked off to try and help his brother. Him and the boys knew Jack wasn’t ok and knew Jack had an eating disorder now. He just needed to realise it himself.
“Jack? Can you let me in?” Conor asked as he knocked on the bathroom door.
“Jack. Let me in. Now”
“I’ll break the door down Jack”
“No Conor! Wait a minute!”
But it was too late. Conor had already bashed the door down and gasped when he saw Jack leaning over the toilet.
“Buddy” Conor whispered sadly, his eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry” Jack said as he forced his fingers down his throat. Jack gagged just as Conor rushed forwards and pulled his fingers out. He grabbed Jack from behind and pulled him down to the floor so Jacks back was rested against Conor’s chest.
“No! Let me go!” Jack shouted, wriggling about trying to get out of the restraint.
“No Jack. You need help”
“No I don’t! I just need to lose weight and I’ll be ok!”
“Stop it Jack! You don’t need to lose weight! Look at you! You’re practically skin and bone. I can see every one of your ribs. You’re wasting away Jack and I hate it. You were fine the way you were. You were never fat and you let people get to you”
Jack just cried at his brothers words. All the pain and feelings coming out from the last few months. Conor held him, knowing he needed to get it out.
“Shh shh, its fine. I’ve got you buddy. You don’t need to deal with it by yourself anymore. We’ll help you. All of us”
“I’m a mess” Jack hiccuped.
“No you’re not, you just got confused”
“I’m so sorry Conor”
“Don’t be Jack. We all get lost sometimes but I’m here now. And we’ll fix you, we’ll get you back to how you used to be”
“What if I fall back?”
“You won’t. As long as you don’t listen to them and only listen to me. You’re perfect Jack, don’t change for them or for anyone else. Just be you and that’s enough”
The Adventures of Fawn Diaz and Peter Parker–Chapter 21
After Christmas, things had died down at the Rosales house. They were simply preparing for their New Years party on the beach. Everyone was going to wear white to signify purity. It was a tradition that they did every year.
With his new camera, Peter took pictures of Ned and Fawn and Nia. He wouldn’t know how the pictures would look until he went to the store to drop the film off and get the physical photos. But he was excited to see how they turned out.
The day of the party finally came and the whole family, dressed in white, gathered together under a cabana on the beach and made food, ate, talked and more. Peter simply dressed in a white button down and khaki shorts. Ned wore a white polo and khaki shorts as well. Fawn, once again, was sent to go get pastries, only this time, they were from the house.
After awhile, she finally showed up, with her mother and Nia, all holding containers of cookies and cupcakes. They were all smiling and enjoying each other’s company. Peter suddenly brought his new camera to his face and took a picture of them all smiling.
“Hey! What’s up guys?” He heard Fawn’s voice from above him. He looked up and saw her standing with a pastry tray in her hands. Her hair was its in natural curly texture, and she had a white tropical flower tucked behind her ear.
“H-hi,” Peter stammered. He had never seen Fawn like this. She looked beautiful.
“Not much. Just hanging out. Put down the food so you can join!” Ned told her.
“Oh right!” Fawn realized she was still holding the pastries. She set them down on a table and went back to her friends. Her white halter dress flowed in the wind as she walked back toward them.
“Hey Fawn don’t trip and fall again,” Mireya snickered.
“Shut up Mireya, at least Fawn has a fashion sense. You look like you draped a white bed sheet on your body,” Bea stepped in. Mireya was shocked.
“Dannnnggggg,” Nia said. “BURN!” Paola was a little mad that her older sister was getting roasted, but she had to admit it was pretty funny.
“Check yourself before you wreck yourself,” Bea patted Mireya’s head and sashayed away. Fawn stifled a laugh as she sat down next to Peter and leaned back casually.
“That was not funny!” Mireya protested as the family started laughing. Peter and Ned were confused.
Nia suddenly came out of nowhere and took a picture of a distressed Mireya with her iPod Touch. She ran off laughing at the picture.
“Hey! Get back here you little brat!” Mireya chased her. Nia cackled as she ran around the cabana.
“No offense, but that was an amazing burn,” Ned laughed.
“I agree,” Fawn chuckled.
The sun was starting to go down and Fawn’s family started cooking dinner. However, Fawn wasn’t hungry. She grabbed Nia and ran out towards the water. They both laughed as the ran into the water. Soon, a bunch of other cousins followed after. (They didn’t go deep into the water, only about mid-shin high).
Peter and Ned, who were talking to some of Fawn’s uncles about science, heard yelling and laughter. Peter looked and saw Fawn and her cousins splashing water at each other, some using water guns to get each other all wet.
Peter wanted to join, but he was having a very important conversation with Elias and Arturo Rosales (both working for NASA) about a astrophysical theory that was controversial. Ned, on the other hand, left him.
“Do you like her, hermano?” Elías asked.
“Huh? Who?” Peter asked.
“Fawn! Our niece!” Arturo gestured to Fawn running on the shore, getting chased by Nia and her other younger cousins. She had a smile on her face and not a care in the world.
“I…I don’t know.” Peter stuck his hands in his pockets.
“You don’t know? What you mean you don’t know? You either like her…or you don’t,” Elias said.
“I mean…she’s my best friend…and I do like her…but I also like…someone else,” Peter looked at the sand.
“Ay hermano. You can’t like two girls at the same time. That’s just not how it works. One time, I liked two girls at the same time and one of them was my girl, but one of them was another student at school. When my girl found out, not sure how she did that, she broke up with me, told the other girl and neither one of them spoke to me for the rest of high school. True story,” Elias said. Peter’s eyes were wide in shock and confusion.
“Don’t listen to him. Look amigo, you better figure out who you like because there’s only one right choice, and you could miss it,” Arturo told him. Peter nodded his head.
“So…are we gonna keep talking about that theory?” Peter asked.
“No, man! Go be with her. It’s New Year’s Eve!” Elías shooed away Peter. Arturo turned him around and pushed him lightly towards the beach that Fawn and Ned were. He watched them all laugh with glee.
And then he joined the fun.
It was nearing midnight and the Rosales family had eaten and danced together for hours. They had put on the little TV in the cabana and watched the Times Square reports on the countdown.
Some of the family members brought paper lanterns and candlesticks to light up and lift into the air, but only at midnight.
Peter was having an internal battle in his mind.
“Should I kiss her at midnight? No no, Peter, that’s stupid. You’re friends. She doesn’t see you that way. But you like her. Just take a chance maybe she’ll like you back. But you also like–”
“Hey. Dude. Wake up from la la land,” Ned pushed him a little.
“Huh?” Peter came back to reality.
“The countdown is starting in 5 minutes, where’s Fawn?” Ned asked his friend. Peter hadn’t seen her anywhere after dinner. They both looked around until they saw Isabelle, talking and drinking to a mystery man, someone they hadn’t seen in the family before. They approached her and waited until she finished her conversation, but she interrupted it herself and turned to the boys.
“Hey boys what’s up?” She smiled at them.
“Do you know where Fawn is? The countdown is starting soon,” Ned asked.
“Oh I think I saw her go that way with some cousins,” Isabelle pointed to the right. “Take some lanterns and matches with you.”
“Okay. Thanks Ms. Rosales!” Peter waved as he and Ned left to find their friend. They had taken a couple of lanterns and a box of matches with them.
Not too far off, Fawn, Nia and a few of their cousins were huddled around a bonfire and talking.
“Hi,” Peter said. Fawn looked up and smiled at him.
“Hello, what brings you here?” She asked him.
“Count down is about to start,” Ned told her.
“Really? Come on guys! Count down!” Fawn got up and gestured for her cousins to follow her.
“Fawn wait!” Peter called and gestured for her to come back. She told her cousins to go on without her. When she came back to Peter, she was confused.
“What? What’s going on?” She asked him.
“Come on,” he said, giving one of his lanterns to Ned and leading them out into the water.
They got about knee high when they stopped. Peter dug out the matchbox from his pocket with one hand.
“Hold this,” he gave an unlighted lantern to Fawn. He struck the match on the box and lit up the lantern’s candlestick inside. Then, Peter helped Ned light up his own.
A few of the young couples in the family saw this from afar and decided to join them. Bea and Marco, along with some other taken cousins walked out about the same distance into the water with their lanterns and lit them up.
“Peter what’s happening?” Fawn asked as she and Peter held the lantern together. They faced each other and the light illuminated both of their faces.
“Just wait, you’ll see,” he told her with a smile.
“Diez! Nueve! Ocho! Siete! Seis! Cinco! Cuatro! Tres! Dos! Uno! FELIZ AÑO NUEVO!!!!” The Rosales family members under the cabana chanted. They all whooped and cheered, the couples kissing each other and the little kids groaning in disgust.
“Okay now,” Peter said. He guided his and Fawn’s hands upwards, lifting the lantern up, up and away. The lantern floated into the sky, and Fawn watched it as it floated away from them. Slowly, but surely, other family members lifted their lanterns as well, and the sky became speckled with lanterns.
All of Latino Miami did the same. The Rosales family was few of the many people who lifted their lanterns into the sky. It was beautiful.
Fawn, Peter and Ned watched in awe as the sky was lit up. Fawn gave her two friends a simultaneous side hug and smiled. She dropped her hands from their shoulders, but Peter spotted her hand next to his and grabbed it. Fawn, surprised, looked down and saw Peter’s hand holding hers. She smiled and intertwined their fingers. Then, she put her head on his shoulder and continued looking at the lights in the sky.
(In the end, Peter decided not to kiss her. He still needed to figure things out. He didn’t want to make a move, but regret it later. It was safer to just remain friends for now.)
It was perfect. Everything was perfect. Fawn was happy, Peter was relaxed, Ned was enjoying himself. Nothing could be better than this.
But little did they know, their friendship would change in a matter of days.
A/n THE END! Of 1st Semester. 2nd Semester is coming soon. I just want to say thank you to all of the readers (especially those who liked chapter 7) for reading and liking and reblogging my content. This story is my baby and I there have been a few times that I wanted to quit but you guys kept me going. I cannot wait for 2nd Semester! Things are going to change for sure. I will announce the winners of the OC contest on Wednesday! (I’ll accept late submissions, but nothing after Wednesday).
I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE READY!!
P.S. Rodrigo Santoro as Arturo Rosales and Gabriel Iglesias as Elias Rosales
Jerome was woken up by rustling. He looked at the clock, it was three-thirty in the morning. Jerome sighed, looking at you sadly. Another one of your nightmares.
“Hey, shh. It’s just a dream baby.” Jerome whispered in your ear. Most of the time when you had a nightmare, whispering sweet-nothing’s in your ear helped. Not tonight. Jerome could tell that it was bad by the way you gripped the sheets and let out strangled sobs. He sat up and started shaking you softly. The ginger said your name over and over as he shook you.
“Doll, you need to wake up. I hate seeing you like this. Wake up.” Jerome didn’t want to wake you up by yelling, but it looked like he had no choice. He had to get you out of your head.
“(Y/N)! (Y/N) please wake up!” This time you woke with a start and shot up. Immediately, Jerome tried to comfort you by putting his hand on your back.
You jumped off the bed, grabbing the knife off your bedside table.
“Do not touch me!” You growled, hands shaking as you pointed the knife at the ginger. His blue eyes met yours and you saw surprise in them. Your nightmares never got this bad.
“Relax Babydoll, it’s only me.” Jerome said softly. You exhaled and dropped to your knees. You wanted to be strong, but you couldn’t help it, you started sobbing.
Your head kept replaying your nightmare over: you were on the oil truck watching as Jerome mocked the cheerleaders. Aarron got the hose, giving it to your boyfriend. Just as Jerome was going to light the bus, the GCPD showed up.
“They can’t shoot at the bus, boys!” Jerome remarked. The issue wad that an arrogant cop thought he could gun them down. He missed, sending the bus and Jerome go up into flames. You ran to Jerome, hearing his screams broke your heart. When you reached him you also got set on fire. The pain was unbearable. All you heard was your screams. Somehow, you found Jerome’s hand and the two of you burned together.
You were brought back by Jerome combing your hair with his fingers. Your head was in his chest and he kept whispering, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m alive.” You sobbed harder, clinging to him.
“I love you Jerome. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. Please don’t leave me. Please.” You cried into his neck. You were too upset to realize that it was your first time telling him you love him.
Jerome tensed hearing those three words. The two of you had never said it, but there were many times when he wanted to. The ginger looked down at you in his arms. The world hadn’t been kind to you. It had beat you up, hurt you. Made you doubt yourself. The fact had Jerome furious. No one could hurt you anymore. Not with Jerome at your side.
“I love you too (y/n). So much.” Jerome whispered, making you light up. “Now, let’s go back to sleep Babycakes.” You smiled at him and crawled into bed. Your ginger wralled his arms around you and the two of you fell asleep.
summary: you get to wake up the team in your own way, every morning
(this was a rewrite of an old oneshot, sorry for not including anyone new)
The metallic hallway floor was cold under your feet as you made your way to the shared kitchen of the Avengers, and you silently cursed Tony for not putting in heated floors for the cold New York winters. The sweatshirt you were wearing came down to your hips, just where the thick sweatpants started. Being comfortable was key for your mornings, since you were in charge of waking everyone up and making sure they got ready for the new day at hand. Training sessions never started before 8am, so it gave you time to eat a snack and wake up before going about the routine. There was one time when Thor had just gotten an iPhone and smashed it with Mjolnir the next morning when the buzzer started to go off. Then, the following morning, Natasha threw hers out the window, and on its way out Clint shot it with an arrow. The Avengers were really just a group of people who didn’t know what the hell to do with their phones.
Your first stop on the route was to Steve’s room, he was still not caught up at a decent enough pace to use an iPhone just yet. He lived on the same floor as you though, so he was the breakfast maker for everyone while you were off getting them to wake up. The door always had this creak whenever you opened it, and Steve learned to sleep through it. You walked to the side of the bed he was facing, and after a gentle nudge to his shoulder you whispered, “Hey Cap, good morning.” His eyes always opened slow as he got his bearings, and you took a moment to appreciate his ruffled hair and sleep eyes. Steve’s room was the cleanest out of all the Avengers, it even smelled decent. Steve rolled over on his back, and stretched for a moment before standing and finding a shirt to go into the kitchen with.
Next was Bucky, and you made sure that you took an extra deep breath before stepping into his room. In the past, you’ve walked into a completely nude Bucky who was also spread eagle on the bed. There’s been times where he’s not even in the bed, and he’s with his weapons by the closet. This time however, he was peacefully sleeping and stirred slightly at the sound of your feet padding across the carpet. You made a point to make yourself known as you came in with a little knock on the door. So he happily smiled and greeted you a good morning, in that wonderful husky voice. Bucky’s laugh made you smile as you made your way out of his room and towards the stairwell.
Clint’s room on the floor below was your next stop, and technically speaking it was Natasha’s room as well. They were easily woken up, considering all you had to do was open the door and yell, “Wake up time!” Those two shot up like there was a murderer at their door. A lot of the mornings you had to duck in case Clint was ‘sleep grabbing’ his bow the night before, and sometimes Tasha would sleep with a gun under her pillow after an unsettling mission. They had the blinds drawn in their room so there was no sunlight coming through. So it was difficult to see what you were walking into some times, let alone what time of day it was.
Down the hall from them was Thor’s room, and it was big enough to fit a king. He was also your favorite to wake up, other than Steve. Thor was the happiest to see you in the morning, and in general he was just the happiest one around the tower. Once you opened Thor’s door, you ran and leapt to the King size bed. “Good morning Thor!” You tickled his sides as he started to warm up and adjust to the light streaming in through the large windows.
“Oh lady y/n, you never fail to make me laugh in the morning!” Thor groggily spoke, and his voice was so deep it practically made the walls rumble. His laugh thundered on even as you walked out of his room, and you continued on with the routine.
Tony was next on occasion, but all he really needed was Pepper. However, she was out of town at that particular moment. So you hopped on the elevator, and rode to the top floor. The billionaire was already awake and moving by the time you’d reached his floor, so he took the opportunity to ride with you down to breakfast.
Everyone was sitting around the giant oak table, joking around and laughing about some of the older mission stories. The super soldiers were just now sitting down with everyone, and they still had their “dance around the kitchen” playlist going full blast. People were singing along, and being nice for once while sharing the pancakes that Steve had just made. You took a moment to appreciate the people sitting in front of you, when Thor interrupted your thoughts by putting his left arm over your shoulder, and announced, “We love you the most, lady y/n.”
The only thing that you needed right now was a hug. But could you get one? No. You had an endless list of places you would rather be. You did not like this forensic conference. Normally, you enjoyed your job but the last few months had been hard. Firstly, you had received a promotion that everyone was dying to get so it was understandable that people would be jealous. However, people gave you dirty looks constantly and you was sure that people were speaking about you behind your back. Some gave you horrible comments to your face. You often worked closely with Molly Hooper however she wasn’t in the meeting. She was on holiday. You had massive amounts of paperwork or just work in general and you often found yourself doing other people’s. You were sick of it.
You were all gathered round a table while your boss was at the front giving the presentation. You longed to be in Sherlock’s arms however you knew that would not happen. He was always to engrossed in his work and often felt like he didn’t need any company. You knew that dating Sherlock would mean that there wasn’t a lot of physical affection but you did want it occasionally. You knew he wouldn’t understand though so you didn’t mention it. He probably wouldn’t listen anyway. Your boss was droning on about work ethic, the new technology that would be used, etcetera. You felt isolated. Apart from your boss, no one else liked you in that room. You missed Molly. She was normally sat next to you keeping you sane. It was killing you.
Time seemed to have slowed down and you found yourself staring at the clock more frequently as you began to become desperate to leave. It appeared that everyone else became bored as well as they brought their attention to you. Like per usual, you began to get glares from them and you could hear whispers when your boss was not paying attention. Normally, you could deal with it but some days it just really hurt. Today was one of those days. You’d bottled it up all day so when the meeting finally ended, you excused yourself from a conversation with your boss and ran to the bathroom where you balled your eyes out. Luckily, no one else was in there to hear you cry. After wiping your tears away, you left. The bad day didn’t end there. Some of the tube lines were closed for maintenance so you got the bus as you knew the Underground would be packed. You waited for the bus but your oyster card had no money on once you finally got on the bus so you ended up walking a long way back to Baker Street. It began to rain and you didn’t bring a coat considering it had been a warm summer day. You hadn’t brought an umbrella either because you’d been so busy that you didn’t see the recent weather warnings. It was rush hour so the streets were jam packed. You shoes were not fit for walking longer distances so your feet were killing you. You just wanted to be home.
Sherlock just glanced over at you before returning to his violin when you walked in. This really annoyed you but you knew it was best not to argue. You dried off and changed in your pyjamas. You walked back into the living room.
You opened your mouth to speak but Sherlock spoke before you did. “No,” He said. “I won’t hug you. I’m too busy.”
You predicted he’d say something like that. “Well it would be nice if you cared for once.”
“I do. I’m just busy.”
“Well you don’t look like it.”
“I am. I don’t always have to hug you when you ask.”
“I never ask!” You exploded. You were letting all of your anger out as rage built up inside you. “It’s just a cuddle and you hardly ever show physical affection! I know you don’t like it much but it would be nice for once. You never take my feelings into consideration anyway! You’re always stuck up your own arse and your work always comes first. My day has been shit but you don’t care! You’ve probably noticed that I’ve come home from work upset for the last three months, because you are Sherlock fucking Holmes, but have you asked me about it? No. Would you listen if I told you? No! But do I listen to all your rants over petty things like John occasionally not listening to you? Yes! I never ask for anything off of you so just a hug would be nice!” You stormed into your shared bedroom before he could reply. You threw yourself down onto the bed and laid on your side. After the events of the today, you needed a rest.
Around ten minutes later, you felt a weight next to you on the bed and arms wrapping around you. The body then pressed itself close to you.
“I’m sorry,” Sherlock mumbled.
You sighed. “Just because I yelled at you-”
“No I’m not hugging you out of sympathy. I want to. I genuinely am sorry.”
“I can’t believe that the famous Sherlock Holmes is apologising.” You smiled.
“Don’t take it for granted.” He sighed. “I do listen to you and I definitely noticed you had been upset. I deduced that your co-workers (with the exception of Molly) had upset you so I went and spoke to them about it. They obviously ignored me. I was going to ask again however I did not want to pry into your business as you scolded me about that beforehand.”
“I’m sorry for yelling.”
“I don’t mind." You fell asleep in his arms peacefully and he fell asleep soon after. You may not be the most perfect couple but who cares about perfection?
Not of the idea of giving birth; no, she’d been through much
worse. Nor of the idea of becoming a mother. She already loved the child
fiercely and has waited anxiously for its arrival since the day she found out
she was pregnant. But, Lysandra has seen the horrors of this world in the form
of her mother, Arobynn Hamel, and Madame Clarrisse. In the form of every man,
every monster, that has ever killed someone she has cared for. In the form of
the former King of Adarlan, who had once banished magic from her homeland. Who
had trapped her in a body that came from others, overpowering the memory of the
one she was born with.
“I hope the baby looks like you,” she mentioned to
Aedion the night before.
He hovered over her, trailing kisses from her forehead, to
her lips, to her throat, her chest, her stomach. He paused then, resting his
forehead against her abdomen. The baby kicked, forcing a laugh from its mother
and a grunt of approval from its father.
“I think she’s telling you to move,” Lysandra
grinned, raking her fingers through the golden hair of her husband. “She likes
He propped himself up on his elbows. “She?”
Lysandra shrugged. “A mother knows.”
“Well,” Aedion began, “I hope she looks
like my beautiful wife.”
His beautiful wife frowned, a crease forming between her
eyebrows. Lysandra was afraid of just that. She couldn’t remember the color of
her eyes. She couldn’t remember the color of her hair, or if she had freckles.
She couldn’t remember the natural structure of her face, her shoulders, her
legs. She remembered being plain. She remembered not being good enough. She
remembered piecing together the perfect appearance, one that would gain
attention from those who sold the goods she needed to survive. One that would
catch the attention of the king of the Assassins.
She wasn’t afraid she would not find the child beautiful-
she would think the child beautiful no matter how it looked, and would strive to
make that known to the child. She would never want it to feel as she did-
plain, not good enough, less. But, she feared her child would look like her,
and she was afraid all she would see is a small, fragile stranger.
Or worse, she was afraid she’d see her mother. She was
afraid she’d remember all too much.
Aedion didn’t notice her discomfort. His focus was elsewhere,
singing lullabies to their unborn miracle.
She pictured the baby often, with golden hair and turquoise
eyes ringed with gold. With Aedion’s smile, the same smile that caused her
knees to go weak and her heart to break free from its chamber.
The smile that made her fall in love, and that scared away
the terror she had of being in love, and being loved in return.
She prayed to whichever gods were listening that the baby
looked like him.
Now, one night later, she lies in the bed she shares with
her husband every night, holding the hand of the Queen of Terrasen.
The sun had sunk behind the hills of Terrasen, and the moon and
the stars are all that offer the land any light. Inside, the fire is blazing in
the fireplace on the far wall and candles are lit by the bedside.
Lysandra lies propped against a series of pillows, drenched
in sweat, a cold rag resting on her forehead, hoping this will all be over
“How’s he doing?” Lysandra asks her Queen,
breathless from the toll of labor.
“He’s anxious,” Aelin Galathynius grins.
“He’s still just outside the door. Waiting, somewhat patiently. He doesn’t
want to risk missing it. How are you
“I’m fine,” she answers, plainly. “But I told him to-
Another contraction occurs, forcing a cry from the mother.
The midwife hurries over, lifting Lysandra'a gown to see if progress has been
made. She feels as if she’s been doing this for hours. For days, even.
“Lady Lysandra,” the midwife smiles. “It’s time.
If you want your hus-“
As if he’s been listening the whole time, which she’s sure
he has, Aedion storms through the door, rushing to his wife’s side. "What
can I do? Tell me what I need to do. What can I do?”
“Staying calm would be helpful,” Aelin mutters,
walking around the side of the bed to her friend’s other side.
Aedion narrows his eyes at his cousin. “I am calm. I’m calm.”
“Hold my hand,” Lysandra breathes, nervously,
halting the bickering that rarely seems to ease between the two of them.
“Both of you.”
Then, with the love of her life on one side and the woman
who was once an enemy on the other, a child is brought into the world and a
mother is born.
For a moment, everything seems to move in slow motion. The
midwife, who was just seconds ago empty handed, holds up a miracle, smaller
than Lysandra imagined. She worries she’ll break it. She worries it won’t
respond well to her. Do children naturally hate their parents? Oh, gods.
It cries, and the midwife says not to worry, that only means
Aedion kisses his wife’s forehead, tears silently rolling
down his cheeks and into her hair. Tears of joy. Pure, utter joy.
Aelin assists the midwife, setting her apart from most
queens and reminding Lysandra why she loves her so much. The queen picks up a
bucket of warm water and a washrag, cleansing the baby as the midwife holds the
newborn over a small tub.
Aelin glances at the door, and Rowan strolls in with a
small, ivory blanket, and hands it to Aedion, who swaddles the baby and cradles
her, gently, in his arms. She stops crying, instantly, as her father carries
her over to the bed. He sits, and for a moment, Lysandra doesn’t look.
“She’s beautiful,” Aedion whispers.
Lysandra looks to her husband, whose turquoise eyes hold awe
and amazement and joy and beauty.
Then, she looks to the small bundle in his arms and
everything is forgotten in an instant. Aedion hands the baby to his wife,
resting his forehead against hers as the new mother takes in her firstborn.
She does not see Aedion. She doesn’t see his eyes, or his
golden hair, or his tanned skin tone. She doesn’t see the shape of his lips or
his chin, or how his nose tilts upward, ever so slightly.
Her breathing halts as she sees the hazel eyes, and the
light, brown, fuzzy hair that has just been washed. The baby’s skin is lighter
than both hers and Aedion’s, porcelain and soft beneath her touch. She sees,
for only a second, in her mind, the little girl she used to be.
“She looks like me,” she cries, softly, uncontrollably.
Lysandra breathes in her daughter, who does not look like a
stranger at all, but like everything she has gained in this life that begun so
poorly. She looks like hope, courage, strength, integrity. She looks like the
love she found in her husband, a love she never thought she could have. She
looks radiant, like her Queen, her friend, her sister. She thinks of Evangeline
and wishes the girl she loved so dearly were here to see this.
“She is more beautiful than I could have ever
imagined,” Aedion says, gazing into the eyes of his wife.
Lysandra looks to Aelin, who is shedding tears of her own,
leaning into the chest of her king. “What’s her name?”
“Lillian,” she smiles. “Lillian Evangeline Ashryver.”
Scientist: Alright….Now we shall test how much this “curse” has consumed you…*proceeds to read the notes on his clipboard* According to the previous readings, you have altered your arm into something completely different….I would like to see that again, Subject 2….
TK: *sneers* Now why would I want to do that?
Scientist: The sooner we do this, the sooner we finish this session. Now, it’s been weeks since your last session and the curse has probably spread farther throughout your body….Perhaps you can try to create wings this time…..
TK: That’s impossible for me! Changing my arm already hurt like hell! But Wings?
Scientist: That’s why we are here to test it. will never know where your limits lie until you try….
TK: I know the limits of my body, doc. And I say it ain’t worth the risk tryin’!
Scientist: We are wasting precious time, Subject 2….It’s either we finish this session with you or I’ll have to assign it with the next Subject…..Mind you the next one is…new to the curse and probably has less endurance towards the pain than you are. Especially since she is “expecting”….
TK: *when he’s heard of the subject’s description, he seem to recognize who it was. A friend he had recently made and a former doctor of this hell of a facility ) ……!!!!
Scientist: Other than you and her, there are no other Test subjects to forward this experiment…..So what will it be? Subject 2…..
TK: *grits his teeth, trying to decide what to do* ……….
Scientist: Time is ticking, subject 2. If you refuse we can end this right now and move to the other subje–
TK: No– w-wait!!!
Scientist: *gleams* yes….?
Pain staking hours Later….
Scientist: Hmmm….Interesting yet very disappointing….It barely has enough to support your weight, let alone support itself…..At least it is safe to say that the curse hasn’t gotten to you…..yet……
TK: *Glares up at the scientist with glowing red eyes*
Nah, this wasn’t in the RP XD But there were other methods to determine his curse. And they were all still painful nevertheless….poor TK……
Genre: angst, based loosely on the Spring Day mv and hyyh mv’s, tw; suicide, depression, abuse, alcoholic
Summary: Warm days will come after the winter storms…
The chug of the train had long left the area and silence had settled over the train station. The frozen branches hung over the stained tracks like gargoyles, protecting the spot and watching those who come by it with a wicked eye. The body had long been moved and now a young man sat at the train station, his feet placed heavily against the white snow, his arms resting against his thighs as he leaned forward and his fingers hooked to each other. Once in a while, this young man would stand, wrap his arms around a column and lean his cheek against it before leaving the wood post and hopping onto the ground. He would sit on the tracks and run his fingers absentmindedly over the rusted and blood-stained rails. He had been in this state for several weeks and he hadn’t left his post. He didn’t want to eat or sleep—in fact, he found that he couldn’t. He didn’t need to.
Marriage, for her, is more natural than she’d first anticipated.
When they’d bitten the bullet, when they had said the words and exchanged the rings, when they’d signed the papers at the registry office, she’d wondered if it was real, if it had any chance at longevity.
A little girl tugs at the only thing she can reach, the strange green skirt. She mumbles sternly, “No crying” The woman shrieks, scaring the little white-haired girl, whose eyes shut and ears flattened in pain. After feeling warm familiar arms, the young hanyou opens her golden eyes to find the strangely dressed miko hugging her close. “I’m not alone!” The miko exclaims, though the girl did not know she was talking to herself. “Of course not, stupid!” She reprimanded softly. Kagome blinked and put enough distance between them, though still not wanting to let go of the only other soul in this darkness, to see who this little demon child might be. What a strange thing for A CHILD to say. She wouldn’t put it past Inuyasha to say something like that but … If she hadn’t been so scared, she would’ve cupped her mouth with her hands in instinct but she just gasped and gaped at the girl who was giving her a strange look. She sniffed, “You smell weird. Who are you?” This is Inuyasha’s child! It has to be! She looked to the jewel, seeking clarification. After all, why would the jewel allow her to see anyone? What was it plotting? But it gave no answer to her silent question. She looked back to the girl to find a frustrated expression and a twitching ear that she knew all too well. She knew that the hanyou child was getting impatient. Kagome smiled, “I’m-” “MORIKO!” Kagome whipped her head about at the sound of Inuyasha’s voice. Instantly the girl shouted back, “PAPA!” Was she not an illusion after all? “INUYASHA!” Kagome yelled as well. “You know my daddy?” The girl questioned. Kagome smiled, “Of course I do. I love your daddy towards all tomorrows.” The little girl’s face lit up at that. “You’re-” She paused and sniffed the air. Then she wrenched herself from Kagome’s hold and ran towards … Kagome’s heart wrenched in pain as she saw Inuyasha appear, the tetsusaiga in its meido form casually laid back one shoulder. “Inu-” “Moriko, are you alright?!” She giggled as he sniffed her, checking her well-being. His little girl climbed up on his other shoulder once he finished. “Papa! Look!” She pointed but she didn’t need to, he already knew. Inuyasha had smelled her and heard her begin to say his name the moment he’d come here. At that moment he remembered his wife saying that time was a tricky thing, and that it was best not to mess with it. But what the hell am I supposed to do now?? She’s already seen both of us. The young Kagome smiled, and his heart melted when she spoke, “So you got to have a happy future. I’m glad.” He could smell the tears beginning and nearly flinched. “Kagome …” He didn’t want to spoil the future and he chose his next few words carefully. “I guess the meido’s fabric of time is different. Somebody important to me once said that time is a tricky thing,” he quoted his wife, “Perhaps you were meant to meet us before so that you would know what you would be coming back to.” “Ah.” Kagome rubbed her eyes, which were already raw. She was beginning to accept that Inuyasha must’ve fallen for another woman and had a child. She knew she shouldn’t ask about the future but … “Come back? Do I leave? Am I stuck on the other side?” The young half-demon on his shoulder looked confused. “Daddy? What are you and mommy talking about?” Kagome deadpanned, then blushed and Inuyasha put a hand to his face and groaned (but secretly enjoying young Kagome blushing). “So much for trying to avoid screwing up the future.” There was a moment of silence before the older Inuyasha steeled himself, “Kagome, have faith in me … The- the young me” He clarified. The pure soul that was Kagome smiled, “I have to believe that the future is not set, Inuyasha. Besides, I know better than anyone that ‘time is a tricky thing.’ But what’s going on? How are you here and not your younger self?” “He’s here too, looking for you. As for why I’m here, this little rascal got too close to the meido. It was an accident.” “Sorry Daddy.” He nodded to her, then continued, “Kagome. You’ll know what to do, and you can do it. I promise.” Inuyasha turned then, whipping his sword through the air, opening a meido. Through the opening, Kagome could make out an unfamiliar house and garden on a sunny evening. He stepped forward, then leaped through. On the other side, the little girl on his shoulder waved. Inuyasha turned and yelled through time, “The idiot forgets to say it but I’ll say it for him: I love you!” Then the portal shut before she could reply. It was so sudden that she burst into tears despite the fact that she has already cried all her tears away. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was so happy, or because as the portal was gone so could that future. After some time, the jewel spoke again, “Be true to your heart, Kagome. What will you do?” She gathered herself up from her knees, holding Inuyasha’s words dear to her soul. Kagome stared at the jewel with new determination, “I won’t make a wish. I believe Inuyasha will come for me.”
Ten years later
“Soooooooooo, how was your little trip?” His wife grinned innocently from the doorway, her arms crossed over the swell of her belly. He was only a few weeks away from meeting his second child. He smirked as he remembered his bet with her over his unborn’s gender.
His mind acknowledged her question, and remembered what happened before he jumped in after his daughter. Kagome had simply watched, as if she hadn’t been concerned in the slightest.
Growing bored watching her father pondering his thoughts, Moriko hopped off and dashed up the few steps to hug her mother’s leg as all children often do. She rubbed her cute chubby face in the fabric, apparently in love with the sensation, then perked up, “Momma! You won’t believe it! We met your twin!”
Kagome smiled softly at her daughter, but before she could say anything, her daughter continued, “Papa called her by your name though…” she gasped, “We traveled through time! Just like you used to do! Why did you wear those strange clothes? I could barely reach them.”
His wife pressed two fingers to her own forehead, feigning that she had a headache, “So many questions.”
“Keh.” Inuyasha ascended to her side, tickling her ear with his soft whisper, “You were just as annoyingly smart wench.”
She returned his smirk and smacked him a quick kiss. “And you were just as impatient.”
The couple watched their daughter bound about the yard like a puppy, which she technically was being part-demon. Kagome sighed, “And energetic as well.” She pulled his clawed hand and pressed it to her swollen mid-section. He nearly jumped at the harsh thump that came from inside her. He was used to this one being calm, only hearing its heartbeat.
Giggled at his reaction, she gave him this expression full of love, “I love you.”
Cupping her cheek, he replied, “Towards all tomorrows.”
*squeals loudly* I AM A GENIUS!!!
WEEEELLLLLL This took two hours of my ‘study time’ … no regrets
Request from @carmineofmidgard: Hey !!i was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts: Art is to console those who are broken by life.
A/N: This my first oneshot ever written! I hope this fulfills your request!
“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” -Vincent Van Gogh
Saying you’ve had a tough life was an understatement. Your father had left the family when you were very little to be with his secretary leaving you and your mom alone. Your mom, while you adored her, kept pushing for you to become a doctor. She wanted you to have a successful and self-sustaining career; one that she never got to have. You on the other hand wanted to be an artist. Ever since your dad left, you loved to draw pictures of fantasy. Castles, dragons, princesses, and princes. Anything that could draw your mind away from your mom crying at night and less frequent phone calls from your happy father was a plus. Eventually, your drawings evolved into portraits. Well, secret portraits. You drew almost everyone in the school, but no one more than Jughead Jones III. Jughead fascinated you, and truth be told, you had a crush on him. How you could crush on someone that you knew nothing about and who didn’t even know your name was anyone’s best guess. As far as you could tell, the only thing you and Jughead had in common was the fact that you were both loners. That’s it.
You and Jughead had off fifth period and you both spent that time in the library, but not sitting next to each other or even near each other. Unfortunately, Reggie and his group also hung out in the library. It was an average Friday and you had just sat down in your chair in the library when Jughead came in, sitting in a chair across the room from you. Just as you pulled your sketchbook to draw, he pulled out his laptop to write. What he was writing, you had no idea. You began to draw the simple outlines of his face, gently moving your pen along the paper. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows and you attempted to capture his facial structure and his emotions. You were so immersed with your drawing that you didn’t notice Reggie peering of your shoulder wearing a wolfish grin. He waited for the librarian to leave the room to copy some papers before he stood up and made his way over to you. Within the span of a second, Reggie quickly pulled the sketchbook from your hands, loudly proclaiming,
“Well, what do we have here, Y/N?”
Everyone in the library looked up from what they were doing, including Jughead. In a flash, you were on your feet, attempting to get your sketchbook back from Reggie.
“Give it back, Reggie!”
Reggie chortled as he looked through your sketches. He had struck gold.
“Everyone, look! Y/N’s got a thing for Norman Bates over here!”
Reggie held up your sketches for everyone to see. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses and tears began to well up in your eyes as everyone began to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked you could see people laughing. Then you made eye contact with Jughead. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He was looking at you intensely, but he wasn’t glaring. There was a look of concern there as well. It was too much for you to bear and you quickly ran out of the library, down the hallway, and out of the school. Knowing you couldn’t go home without your mother knowing you were skipping class, you began the trek to Pop’s.
Pop knew you were upset the moment you walked into the diner. You were always so exuberant, always saying hello and asking him about his family first chance you got. But now? You were silent. Pop looked over at you and smiled softly.
“You want the usual?”
You nodded and sat in one of the booths, your back facing the door. Pop came over with a chocolate milkshake.
“It’s on me.” Pop said and winked.
You smiled gratefully at him and slowly sipped the milkshake, the familiar taste bringing you some relief. Then you remembered you left your backpack in the library. Your sketchbook. Reggie probably still had it. He was probably running copies of your sketches of Jughead to put up all over the school to humiliate you as much as he could. You felt the hot sting of tears coming back as you remembered the laughs and Jughead’s stare and quickly wiped them away. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, just thinking about the day’s events before a jingle sounded out around the diner as the front door opened. You didn’t pay much attention to it, swirling your straw around the almost empty glass before you heard something being placed down on the floor beside you. You looked to your side and saw your backpack along with a figure standing right next to you. You knew those black pants and shoes. You froze as you realized who it was and slowly looked up, making eye contact for the second time that day with Jughead Jones III who had your sketchbook in his hand.
“I believe this is yours,” he said as he handed it to you.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shakily took the sketchbook back.
Your quiet voice was raw from crying and Jughead took notice. He gestured to the seat in front of you.
“Can I sit?”
You nodded, not trusting your own voice. With a quiet “thanks,” he took a seat and the two of you were silent for a moment. You swallowed again. You had to say something.
“How did you know where I was?”
You mentally smacked yourself. Really, out of everything you could’ve said, that’s what your brain came up with? Jughead raised his eyebrows at you.
“I didn’t actually. I came here because I was gonna grab a bite to eat before dropping your stuff off at your house.”
Your cheeks became bright red as you imagined Jughead in your house. Not that you’ve fantasized about that way too many times.
“Well, um, thank you. For giving me back my sketchbook and backpack and all,” you said. “How did you get them back?”
You remembered Reggie’s mean laugh as he held the sketchbook above your head and flinched at the memory. Jughead chuckled at your question.
“It wasn’t easy, let’s just say that.”
You smiled for the first time since the morning and looked down.
“They’re really good,” Jughead said.
You looked up at him inquisitively.
“Your sketches I mean.”
Your heart plunged to your stomach again as you remembered his stare across the room. You looked down again.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “It probably looks like I’m some weird stalker or something.”
You were silent as you waited for his response.
“Aw, that’s a shame,” Jughead said and you looked up at him again, confused by his nonchalant response. “I was kinda hoping you were. Would’ve made a great storyline for my novel.”
He smirked at you and you, realizing he was joking, smiled along with him. Jughead pointed at your empty glass.
“Can I buy you another milkshake?”
“I’d like that.”
A/N: I hope that was okay! Let me know what you thought!