#dallin

This is stupid nonsense but it made me think of enchanted which made me think of a certain scyvie au... @artificialortega​ I am looking directly at you

34 - “Pull it together, bitch.”

W - True Love’s Kiss

-

Vanessa is dead.

Alright. Fine. She’s sleeping. But she looks fucking dead and Brooke cannot breathe.

She’s lying in her bed in her and Akeria’s shared apartment, flat on her back and on top of her blankets. Her dark hair is strewn across her pillow, perfectly curled for a night out she’d never gotten to go to, and her expression is scarily still. 

Vanjie snores - loud even in her sleep. She isn’t snoring now.

“She’s been like this for a week now,” Brooke says desperately, turning to look at Yvie. Yvie grimaces.

“Fuck,” she says wisely. “That’s not good.”

“No shit,” Brooke hisses at her. Wasn’t this bitch supposed to be the expert? “I don’t think it is either.”

“And the hospital wouldn’t take her?”

Brooke stares at her for a long moment, speechless. “The hospital?”

Yvie looks at her worriedly, like she thinks she might be stupid. “Yeah. The hospital,” she says, crossing her arms underneath her enormous fluffy cardigan. “You know, where people go when there’s something wrong with them?”

“I thought you were a witch,” Brooke says. Yvie rolls her eyes.

“I am. Science is still real, you know.”

Brooke makes a frustrated noise, looking back at Vanjie. She’s so, so still. She’s never still. Brooke hates it. “Can’t you just-” She takes a deep breath, glancing at Yvie, who’s stroking a cotton candy pink dreadlock. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong with her, how to fix it? She got cursed by a witch, I figured the hospital wasn’t going to be able to help with that.”

Yvie rolls her lips between her teeth, her eyebrows arching with surprise. “Who?”

Brooke licks her lips nervously. “I don’t know.”

This time, it’s Yvie’s turn to stare at her. “You don’t know.”

“Listen,” Brooke begins, frustration and anxiety threatening to burst out of her. “All this magic - I’ve only been dating Vanessa for like, three months. All this magical fuckery came out of nowhere, like, two weeks ago. Vanessa refused to tell me anything about it. All I saw was a woman in black leaving my goddamn apartment and Vanessa lying down on my bed like Sleeping Beauty.”

Yvie holds up a hand, and Brooke Lynn stops herself from spilling more of the past few weeks to her, instead staring at the other woman hopefully. “I might, might be able to help,” Yvie says, and takes a breath. “Was this a curse or was she poisoned?”

Brooke grabs the apple from the nightstand, holding it out for Yvie to examine. It’s been a week, but the bite taken out of it is still as white as snow. “I found this on the floor next to her,” she says, and Yvie frowns.

As soon as she takes the apple from Brooke, she drops it like it’s red hot, hissing. “Jesus,” she snaps, and they both watch bounce a little before rolling under the bed. “Definitely poison. That’s - that’s not good, girl.”

Panic and despair spike through Brooke, and her next words are a little harsher than she intends them to be. “So can you help, or what?”

“Jesus, chill the fuck out,” Yvie snaps back, and Brooke flattens her lips. “She’s waited a week, she can wait a few more minutes. Pull it together, bitch.”

“You just said it’s not good! You want to take your time with this?”

“Would you rather me just rush into it?”

Brooke doesn’t have a response to that, other than ‘no’, which she would really rather not admit to. “Sorry,” she says, eventually. “I’m just worried about her.”

Yvie nods, clearly drifting off into thought. “Have you tried kissing her?”

Brooke frowns. “What- oh. Oh, please.”

Yvie shrugs. “It’s worth a shot!”

“We’ve been dating for three months!” Brooke cries. “We haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet! I haven’t even felt it, yet!”

Yvie rolls her eyes. “True love isn’t about feelings, dumbass,” she tells her, like she’s in first grade, or something. “It’s about destiny. It’s about where your relationship is going to go after this.”

Brooke looks at Vanessa, at her dark curls and strong jaw and red lips. She thinks about marrying her, about a future with her, and feels that familiar suffocating feeling she’s always gotten at the thought of marriage, of commitment. “I’m not her true love,” she says, and Yvie scoffs.

“Kiss her,” she orders. “I don’t care if you’re ‘not ready’, you called me here for a solution and here it is.”

Brooke thinks very, very hard about telling her to fuck off, but the words jolt her back into reality and the situation at hand. Vanessa needs to wake up. If this is the way it happens - Brooke will figure it out. No harm in trying.

She nods, leaning over Vanessa so that her arms are on either side of her, her face about a foot above hers. She brushes her hair to the side to get it to stop tickling Vanessa’s face, taking a shaky breath. She’s kissed Vanjie thousands of times. This shouldn’t be as difficult as it’s feeling.

“Oh my god,” Yvie groans from behind her. “You’re not getting married! Just kiss her so that I can go home.”

Brooke flips her off, but she leans down, pressing her lips to Vanjie’s in a chaste kiss, blinking a little out how familiar it feels, even with Vanjie in the state that she’s in. She draws back, holding her breath as she watches Vanjie’s face carefully.

Nothing.

Her stomach sinks in disappointment, an inexplicable hurt panging through her. She isn’t Vanjie’s true love. She should be jumping for joy, flooded with relief that she doesn’t have to commit her life to someone else.

Instead, a ball of tears is wedging itself in her throat, and she feels a strange sense of loss, like she’s lost something she never really even had in the first place.

“I guess I’m not it,” she says wryly, and she straightens up, eyes glued to the floor. She can’t bring herself to look at anyone else right now. “Any other solutions?”

There’s a long pause. “Well,” Yvie starts, and she sounds like she’s trying to be less blunt. Brooke bristles a little - she really doesn’t want any sympathy right now, especially from this fucking asshole witch. “Maybe we can try--”

“Brooke?”

Brooke freezes, her eyes jerking back up to land on Vanessa, who’s stretching like a cat after a particularly long nap and frowning with confusion. “Vanj?” she says, and Vanjie looks at her brightly.

“What the fuck is going on?” she asks, frowning at Yvie. Brooke feels like she’s being slowly filled with happiness, like she could float to the ceiling with relief and euphoria. “Who’s that? You having a voy-voyersisms party or somethin’?”

“Do you not remember?” Brooke laughs, giddy. Vanessa purses her lips.

“Remember what?”

“You--” Brooke cuts herself off, unable to explain everything that’s happened in a quick enough way. “I’ll - I’ll explain later. I love you.”

There’s a moment of silence in which Vanjie just stares at her, her expression unreadable. Brooke feels weightless with anxiety, and with the relief of saying it, with the truth of her feelings. She feels good - she can only hope Vanjie feels the same.

Vanjie’s face breaks out into a soft smile, softer than usual. “I love you too, boo,” she says, and Brooke grins.

True love. Who’d have ever thought it was real? 

Or that Brooke Lynn Hytes would like it?

“Let’s get booze and look at the mountains.”

Gift art for the amazing Helios~ on furaffinity!!!  I’ve been meaning to draw my OC Dallin, and figured it would be the perfect opportunity to gift my pal!

It is a rank injustice that there is no Take Your Cat to Work Day, but I’ll admit that these kids are pretty cute.

This photograph shows Shirley Tripken (right) and Adelaide Martins, daughter of Brazilian navigator and assistant pilot Dr. E. Pinto Martins, in New York City on August 15,1922 to participate in the inaugural ceremonies for the flight of the Sampaio Correia, the first plane to attempt to fly from North to South America.

While the plane’s crew would survive the voyage, the Sampaio Correia would not, as it crash landed into the ocean off the shore of Cape Maisi, Cuba on August 22nd en route to Rio de Janeiro. A second attempt, featuring largely the same crew, launched soon after and completed the journey on February 8th, 1923, for a travel time of just over five months and over one hundred hours of flight.