#I was in a terrible phase two years back and keep falling back into the same spiral again and again sometimes

[ramayantika]

When you read Valmiki Ramayana and see how the processes and preparation for Ram's coronation you can't help but feel terrible for Ram.

People all excited to welcome Ram. He hears some people talking how Ram on ascending the throne would mean peace and prosperity for many years to come. Dignitaries have come from all over the country, like a full public event. Ram looks so regal only to let go all of it in a few moments unaware of his mother Kaikeyi's intentions

And this man I know why our elders would advise us to look upto Ram. This man after getting a terrible blow and getting an exile akin to a death sentence from his mother who loved him dearly and was even so happy with the news of Ram's coronation. He is then asked to leave the palace immediately for 14 years like never once come back for 14 years.

Keeping myself in Ram's position to not come back home once for so many years would kill me. I don't think I would give any thought about promises dharma or karma then when I would be told to go away.

And do you all realize that he was giving up an empire which was rightfully his? To learn from Ram, I think we must learn to keep ourselves in his position and think what our step would be and see the difference between Ram's behaviour and thoughts and us.

It's like you are told that you will have a promotion at work and get a high position. Everything is set. The people, your new cabin, your new post everything and once you come to office to begin your duties you are told that you won't get promotion without stating what you did wrong or where your efforts lacked.

Tell me how would you feel?

This is similar to Ram's case too. For him promotion would mean to be the king and take control of a grand empire. You must see how Valmiki describes Ayodhya. I would love to live there.

And when he is walking back to his own palace (ram and sita lived in a separate palace away from Dasharath's) he doesn't use the parasol and the chariot.

Today every person whom I talk too regarding Ram, I see everyone getting angry and pointing faults at him.

This is epic Kaikeyi behaviour. Kaikeyi after getting her mind poisoned not once does she think of ram and her relationship with him, his qualities, etc. We too do the same thing. All this while I always said Ram shouldn't have done this should not have done that why should Ram be idealized?

Growing up I realise why dada dadis would tell us to be like Ram. You can be steady and calm in good situations how do you keep your self steady and calm when life is being unfair to you? We all slip into sadness, submit to grief and anger and worse into all sorts of terrible addictions to cope with it.

And what did we do to Ram? Forget learning from him, we politicise him. Ram is a tool for vote bank, Jai Shri Ram is a war cry and shit like that.

Kaikeyi was unfair to Ram and so are we. We are no better.

Just like what my elders did, I am going to tell my children and the upcoming generation about Rama and to be like him.

Jai Shri Ram 🙏

[zwhoreo]

Hi! Can I request a fic where the fem!reader helps Luffy to deal with the trauma of losing his brother?

omg first fic after i randomly left for 2 months!! but im back to writing angst again im in an angst phase

also i ended up not specifying anything gendered for reader, hope that’s chill that it’s x gn! i mostly reserve gendered language for smut

wake up @nina-ya i finished the fic i said i’d finish 2 months ago

nightmares - luffy x gn!reader

angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

❕SPOILERS FOR MARINEFORD❕

summary: the trauma of marineford gives luffy nightmares, and you need to comfort him while he’s vulnerable and scared

contains: luffy in a distressing emotional situation, luffy is traumatized, references to marineford/ace’s death/timeskip

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy never used to remember his dreams. They were hazy and soft, they made him feel warm and fuzzy when he woke up, he would stretch and yawn and they’d go away so fast and so gently like butterflies flying away. And then he’d see you and hold you and kiss you until you were awake too, as excited to see you and his heart so warm and full of love.

And you were there to enjoy his dreams, he was a noisy sleeper who mumbled happy little thoughts unintelligibly into your neck, he would kick and pinch and squeeze in his sleep which you had to learn to live with because he couldn’t go to sleep without a hug and you’d be the one to give it to him all night. But he’d often end up moving and rolling around, tangling himself uncomfortably, protective instincts kicking in he'd get on top of you and lay there, starfish. When he awoke in the night he’d assume his most comfortable and close position with lazy kisses. He was so, so happy every night.

That was two years ago.

He’s still the same boy he was then, still giving you all those awkward little affections during the night that you missed so much while you were away. But now there’s more. Now, sometimes, he has nightmares. Awful ones that torment him every so often and make him upset and sad when he awakes in the dark, make him begin to cry when he realizes you aren’t in his arms anymore. You always pray for nights when he’s calm like he used to be, you make sure to massage him and kiss him as he falls asleep to coax those good dreams back and help him heal. Of course those years ago he’d get upset and scared and sometimes he wouldn’t feel well when he woke up, but that was so rare, that was when something bad had just happened and he was very stressed but it was so rare because he was so, so happy.

Luffy’s happy now, too. He hasn’t changed much, really, still an excitable, bouncy kid, always smiling, but now you have to worry about the night. You have to worry about dark thoughts and memories bubbling over when he’s most vulnerable until his body shakes and even your affection is barely enough. This is terrible for you, so unbearably terrible. You have to learn how to soothe something broken, something you love with every fraction of your shattered heart.

_________________________________

You’re asleep, a dull, unbreakable sleep, you’d curled up in Luffy’s arms when it was time for bed and you’d cuddled together and giggled and kissed until you both fell asleep in a joyful pile. Now you’re so content, you don’t even notice how Luffy had accidentally rolled away from you in the night, sheets all tangled up with you and keeping a distracting warmth.

Luffy’s dream isn’t bad at first. It’s the kind where you’re not quite there, floating above the world in just a dull picture, no sound or feeling or touch. It’s just the ocean, a bird over the sea. But suddenly the ocean is stone and the sky is fire and he’s disoriented, where is he? What’s happening? He looks at his hands and they’re red and he’s frozen in fear like you sometimes are in nightmares. He knows in his fractured, cloudy little mind that something bad is going to happen and he’s going to see that picture again. A thousand flashbulb memories are going to explode at once, in fire. In the waking world in bed he’s twitching and sweating and his eyes are shifting furiously beneath his lids, and you don’t know, you aren’t there to hold him.

Ace. Ace’s smile and his soft black eyes and they’re playing in the jungle together and running and running and now that’s gone, the fire’s back. It all happens at once, so much blood, holding something fading and dying. Heartsick over a goodbye. It’s one of those nightmares where you cry and scream so much and as loud as you can because everything’s happening to you at once, but you can’t make any sound, you’re just in a tidal wave of amplified agony. And that’s how Luffy lives in this moment, unable to make out much of anything except darkness and pain, shaking and overheating in his sleep.

But the anguish bursts all around him and then suddenly the fire’s gone and everything is quiet again and Luffy’s awake, tangled uncomfortably in the blankets, face covered in tears. He can’t catch his breath and his mind is full and blurry and empty all at once. Suddenly the darkness of the cabin is all encompassing, sickly, he wants it to be day again and for the world to feel safe and happy and oh, where are you?

Fear squeezes his heart as he tries to find you in the darkness, are you gone? He can’t handle being alone right now, he can’t do this, he searches with his hands in the dark and cries and feels the panic burning a hole in his stomach but finally he turns to his left and there you are. Sleeping. Despite all of this you’re still sleeping, curled up and breathing slowly, unaware and at peace. Luffy wants to wake you up so badly because he doesn’t want to be alone but he doesn’t want to worry you.

So he climbs into your arms and breathes you in. He buries his face in your chest and tries to calm his injured heart.

Biting his lip and shaking he tries so hard not to cry. He can’t bother you, he knows you’ll be sad and worried which he really doesn’t want. But his whole body hurts, he wants your arms to be tighter, he squeezes and squeezes begging silently for relief and for everything to go away but it wasn’t just a night terror it was a memory and memories don’t just go away. So he cries.

You’re stirred from sleep because the sound of Luffy crying is the worst thing you could possibly hear, a thousand of your own memories are brought back and some deep instinct is triggered within you, pulling you, you wake up immediately and the first thing you do is get on top of him and lock him in your arms, trying to breathe slowly so he will too.

He twitches beneath you, cloudy realization that he’s no longer alone. His arms are around you, fingers digging in, sharp pain, he’s trying so hard to make his tears stop as you hold him and stroke his face. But he’s a possessive, needy boyfriend who’s comforted by protecting who he loves. He sits up, taking you with him, he wraps his arms around you tighter and tighter and then his legs. He’s breathing heavily on your face, eyes closed, sad still but resilient. You’re pinned to him, unable to move, but you massage the tension out of his back and shoulders as best you can.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you whisper and he nods against you and holds you even tighter if that’s possible, “…do you wanna talk about it?”

So he nods very gently but he doesn’t say anything. His hands are twitching against you, scratching at your back in leftover desperation.

“Was it about him?”

Luffy leans against you, hopeless and drained, you don’t need him to answer so you just press your cheek against his and pet his hair. And his shoulders shake as he cries silently in your arms.

You rest there for a few minutes, unable to do much other than just hold him, and he whispers in your ear, “I miss him so much.” Which wets your eyes because there’s so much pain in those five words. His voice is breathy, far away.

“I know, Lu… I’m sorry.” You’re not good at this, you think. You never really know what to say because this goes deeper than words can touch.

Luffy bites his lips. He doesn’t want to cause you pain and knowing that he is, it’s just piling on top of his despair. There’s so many times he’s oblivious to how you’re feeling but when things are broken, when you’re in distress, reality tugs at the inside of his heart.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, fingers in his hair, you kiss his neck gently and the warmth is getting through to him, so gradually.

“I want him here. I just…” Luffy’s voice is breaking. And you taste fresh tears as you move your lips higher. “I miss him,” he says again.

“I know how much he meant to you. Hey, Luffy…” The slow rise and fall of your chest is slowly steadier his breath now. He looks up at you, that sadness in his eyes is almost too painful to handle but you look at him anyways, eye contact with something beautiful soothes his soul. “He’d be so proud of you. And how strong you are.”

He’s heard this before. Luffy sniffles, he knows it’s true but only so much of that can help.

“He’d be proud of you, because you never gave up, right? You kept going and you got stronger.” And you’re not talking about his physical strength, really. You tap the side of his head gently. “Up here.”

Luffy nods subtly, his tears are stopping slowly as he clings to the comfort of your words, his greatest comfort in the world is protecting people he loves, being there for someone. He’s still guilt ridden at letting his brother die for him but as long as he keeps living he’s living for Ace, honoring him, being there for him even if he’s gone.

And that’s what you say next, reading his mind. “What matters is that you’re alive. You didn’t let what he did for you go to waste, he’d be so proud of that. This is exactly what he wanted, yeah?” Your hands trace circles on Luffy’s back as you feel him relax very slowly.

“I’m so happy you’re still here,” you whisper right in his ear.

“Mhm…” Luffy’s lips find yours, hovering, just touching you. “I’m not letting you go, ‘kay?” His words are so deep and genuine. There’s heartache there but an impenetrable love, most of all. His arms are flexed around your body, he’s squeezing you and it’s almost uncomfortable but you have to let him right now.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You manage a smile which makes him smile too.

It seemed impossible for Luffy to get even more loving but he definitely was when you saw him again. You’re the one who’s getting it all, all the affection he wanted to give to his brother.

“You wanna hang out for a while?” You offer because you’re scared to let him sleep again. “It’s ok to stay up. If you’re tired tomorrow I’ll take a nap with you.”

He likes that idea. Maybe you’ll get something to eat, even take a walk on the deck if it’s not too cold. He just wants your company. He wants to spend as much time with you as he physically can to make up for everything and to show you how much love he has to give.

“I love you, mh, let’s stay up an’ hang out,” his words are quiet and gravelly from sleep and tears but what matters is he’s smiling now. He’s back to living in the moment tonight, and you’re his moment.

The next morning he’ll be completely back to himself. He’ll kiss you good morning but he’ll act like the night never happened, probably, because it’s nicer to be happy and enjoy the day. He has you, he knows everything’s going to be alright.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Your prompt request #13 "not here... not now..."

In the midst of a battle between two kingdoms, you go into labor. While the city breaks into chaos, you try to escape while trying to deny the birth.

Female character can either deliver the child deep in the woods while on the run or hiding in the rubble, trying to keep quiet as she births her child.

You choose! And thank you for choosing to make an account for your wonderful work! Obsessed with your first fic! 🫶

Not Now… Not Here…

[This was one of the first asks/prompts I received and made me so happy to have created this side blog. Thank you so much Anon for your request and your kind words at the end. Hope you enjoy! 💜 Fpreg 2917 words & Beta’d by the wonderful @gravid-transluna ]

Marion stood by the open window in her bedroom, hands braced against the window sill, as she watched the billows of smoke and the sounds of screaming get closer and closer to home. Tensions had been building between Alleria and its neighbouring kingdom for many years and it had only been a matter of time before one of the Kings ordered their troops to attack. The battle had been raging for days… weeks now, with news from the frontlines making it back to the city as the wounded returned. Unfortunately for the residents in Alleria the battleground was moving ever closer towards the city, and for Marion this was even more unfortunate for she was currently deep in the throes of labour.

She gripped the wooden ledge below her window and bounced her knees and hips through the latest contraction.

“Mnnnnhhhhh… oh little one, you have a terrible sense of ti— ohhhhhh… timing.” Marion moaned softly, her hips swaying instinctively as the tightening coursed across her middle while the weight of the baby’s head filled her pelvis.

When the contraction had faded back into a dull ache Marion looked up again at the city slowly falling to the destruction of war. The smoke seemed closer than it had an hour ago, the battleground was heading right across the city in the direction of her home. The pains had started yesterday but were manageable back then - she could continue moving around and getting everything prepared for the birth. The war was far from the city at that point and it did not occur to Marion that she would not be safe to labour and birth here - Alleria had never allowed their borders to be penetrated before, but the invading Kingdom’s forces were too strong.

Marion held the underside of her heavy and tight belly, her thin olive green dress stretched around her enlarged middle. She had never given birth before but had helped in many a delivery around the town. It was a rite of passage for a woman to deliver her children - the men-folk would almost never be present while the labouring mother would be supported by female friends, family or neighbours.

Marion didn’t have any of those but she wasn’t phased to be doing this alone - she preferred things that way. However, as she looked down through her window at the empty and deserted street below, fear and panic began to claw at her thoughts. Perhaps she should flee the city as well. A loud scream and sound of metal against metal echoed through the streets. The battle was getting closer, she needed to leave. Now.

Grabbing a canvas bag Marion quickly threw some items inside; blanket, clothes, water, food. As she was frantically waddling around her small rented room another contraction hit out of nowhere only minutes after the last.

“Hoooooooo— oh fuck….” Marion doubled over and braced her thighs as the pressure and pain skyrocketed. Her pelvis was being pulled apart as the baby’s head shoved its way through, almost certainly at the top of her cervix by now. The immeasurable weight and pressure was overwhelming and Marion found herself grunting against it.

“Mnnghhhh!!!” Marion growled, but the sound was swallowed by a loud explosion coming from a few streets away.

“Ooooh… so— so low. Don’t come now baby, just a— a little bit longer.” She pleaded to her rounded belly, holding it with both hands as she straightened back up. Grabbing her bag of supplies Marion bolted for the door to the stairs at the back of the building. She had to get out of here, get herself far away from the incoming battleground before she delivered this babe.

The stairs were awkward and difficult to descend with her dangerously wide gait from an extremely low baby. But Marion eventually made it down to street level and looked around; there was no one left - everyone had already fled. She waddled as fast as she could in the opposite direction from the rising cries of battle, her hands holding up her taut and tensing belly as if her grip alone could stop her labour. Marion was too busy worrying about safe routes out of the city to realise the next contraction was fast approaching and when it struck she found herself dropping into a deep squat in the middle of the cobbled street.

“Grrrrrrrhhhhh….! Oh Gods… So— so much pressure!” She groaned, her bag of supplies slipping from her shoulder as she squatted and grabbed her knees. Instinctively she mooed and growled her way through the latest wave, each one seeming to strike with more ferocity than the last. Marion would be self-conscious making such a public display of her labouring but with the streets deserted she allowed herself to make whatever noises she needed to get her through the pain of childbirth.

Eventually it passed, but the delay in her movements meant the sounds of battle were only a stone's throw away. The harsh sounds of doors and windows smashing echoed off the buildings and Marion thought she could hear incoming heavy footsteps. If the owners of the heavy stomps were just of Allerian troops then she would be okay but, if they were of the invading forces there was no telling what they would do with a woman wandering alone on the streets. The clinking of swords colliding got louder. Both troops were getting closer. Marion could not get caught in the crossfire - she’d be as good as dead.

She ran, as fast as her wide legs could carry her, away from the brutal fighting. She barely made it round the corner down a narrow side street when she was forced to stop once more. Slumped against the brick wall, Marion curled around her hard belly and trembled as she struggled to stay upright. The heavy boulder of a baby’s head was right there, filling her birth canal with so much pressure she thought she might explode. There was no stopping the primal grunt that rattled her throat as every muscle seemed to contract and squeeze the baby towards its exit.

“Nnghhhhh!!!” She roared against the pain and it was immediately followed by a gush of warm liquid running down her thighs and splashing the beige cobbles underfoot. At the tail end of the contraction she felt it - deep in her genes an instinct was telling her to start pushing.

“No….” She whimpered. “Not now… not here… hoohoo-hoohoo…” Marion panted erratically, fighting against her body’s advancing labour.

When the contraction somewhat eased the mother-to-be staggered bowlegged down the deserted side street, the large head shoving its way through her cervix. She made it through to the next street over but Marion had no clue where she was going, no planned destination she was trying to reach. Instead she was just desperately waddling as far away as she could from the noise of battle. She thought she had more time to find an alternate place to give birth but the increasing weight and pressure between her legs was soon proving her wrong. Out in the open of this new street she doubled over against a shop window - palms flat on the glass, her hips jutting backwards and her heavy belly hanging towards the floor.

“Ohhhhhh… no, don’t push… don’t— mnghhh don’t p-p-push…” she chanted over and over, panting and sweating and shaking while the baby inside sank lower and lower.

Running and shouting and screaming could be heard from the end of the street. Marion, still caught in the midst of a powerful contraction, glanced down the road towards the sound and saw at least a dozen men rounding the corner. Their metal plated armour, the colours of their tunics, their pale faces - none of it was familiar. These were enemy soldiers. The labouring mother slipped around a corner to hide down another side street, her legs stuck so wide it looked like she was about to drop the kid any second. And it felt that way too. With one hand holding onto the wall, the other disappeared under her dress between her thighs. No baby yet, thankfully, but she was starting to bulge into her underwear.

Deep and gruff shouting echoed from the high street, the invading warriors were jeering and smashing everything in their path. Despite the continuing contraction, Marion shuffled a little further into the alleyway, into the shadows and tried to hide behind some broken wooden crates. The soldiers were shouting in a language she didn’t understand, but the tone of their rough voices were clear - they were winning this war.

One… three… seven… Marion looked through the gap in the crates counting the foreign soldiers as they stomped past the entrance to the narrow side street, the burly and primitive men kicking and smashing and destroying every single thing they passed.

The next contraction ramped up before the last had even faded away and Marion slapped a hand over her mouth to stop any sounds escaping. Her baby was insistent, desperate to be born. The pressure screamed at her to push and her stance instinctively widened, but as she moved her foot she kicked something hard and metal sending it tumbling across the cobbles with a clang.

Her heart stopped, her breathing seized. Marion’s eyes flared with panic and looked nervously through the gap in the wooden crates towards the entrance of the side street. There was no way that sound wasn’t noticeable, a second later Marion’s fears were realised when two strange looking men stood at the archway of the dark sidestreet, staring into the shadows looking for the source of the noise.

Push!

Marion stayed perfectly still, her hand squeezed over her mouth, her nose breathing as silently as humanly possible. She could not let them find her, Gods only knew what they would do to her, especially if they had conquered Alleria.

Push!

The contraction still tore across her body, her belly contorted into a solid, hard ball beneath her dress as it tried to deliver the child. The pressure between her thighs was making her eyes water, the weight was pulling everything downwards, and her vagina was starting to burn. And yet Marion remained still, not moving an inch.

Push!

The men were talking to themselves, grumbling incoherently in their foreign tongue, pointing and staring down the narrowed cobbled strip. Marion’s legs were trembling, her knees sinking, and as she held her breath in fear of discovery she realised too late that her body was pushing. Without instruction or permission the baby was shoved down the birth canal, feeling like it was seconds away from falling into her underwear. But she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop herself from bearing down. Behind her sweaty palm Marion’s mouth opened in a silent scream as she pushed and immediately could feel her labia starting to part beneath her clothing.

Oh fuck! Marion thought, trying to stop the impossible. Please don’t come out now!

She fought against her instincts for the longest minute of her life, desperately trying not to push and trying to stay silent. Eventually the strange men lost interest, deciding nothing was hiding down this side street, and continued to ransack the surrounding shops with their fellow soldiers. Marion slumped back against the wall when the soldier's departure coincided with the slight easing of the contraction. With heavy breaths quieter than a whisper, she tried to regain a normal rhythm in her lungs.

This baby could not be born now, here, it had to hold on for her to get somewhere safe. Away from the carnage of war and away from her foes. Then there was a sudden bang, a moving wall of heat, and a victorious cheer coming from the adjacent street - the enemy had started burning buildings causing a giant explosion.

Debris flew through the air, shards of brick and building raining from the skies and Marion spun around, curling around her bump, to protect herself and the baby. She staggered, bowlegged, deeper down the dark alleyway to try to get away from the destruction but with the contractions almost on top of each other she barely made four unsteady steps before she had to pause. The baby was right there, she could feel it. Her hand dived between her legs to check and felt with her fingertips the spherical shape between her folds peaking into her undergarments. The primal need to give birth took over once more and whether she wanted to or not, Marion found herself bearing down with the contraction.

This baby could not be born, not now and not here. If she could not stop pushing she would have to find another way. With her hand wedged between her thighs she clamped it firmly over the mass in her sodden underwear, and with a low grunt she was uncontrollably pushing against the palm of her own hand.

“Nnghhhh— noooo.. don’t c-come o-outtttt…” she growled, her body pushing ferociously and she could feel the head slip forward.

In the shadows Marion grunted and heaved and pushed. Against these efforts she tried to keep her palm over the emerging head to prevent it coming out any further. Her legs were wide and trembling, the heavy mass between her hips forcing her pelvis apart. It was hell, being stuck like this, her labia stretching around the emerging head, the desperate need to get this over with - to deliver this baby. The placement of her own hand proved futile, her body outright refusing to do anything that could delay or prevent the birth. Instead her knees buckled, sinking into a deep squat, and her free hand flew forward to brace her labouring body against the rough bricks of the dark alley while the other hand cupped the head of the incoming babe.

“Ohhhhh fuck…” her groans barely audible, all efforts going into birth. “Oh Gods… help me… it’s coming— it’s coming o-outtt!”

The hand at the apex of her thighs was supporting the head rather than stopping it from coming out. She gasped, sucking in a desperate breath, and leaned into the push giving everything she had into bearing down. She sobbed as the head reached a full crown in her underwear, its large shape undeniable and filling her small palm. The clothing was damp and stretched but she couldn’t remove them, both hands were occupied - one holding her upright in the squat the other holding the emerging head. “Grrnnnhhhhh!!” The low and primal groan of effort rattled the back of her throat and ever so slowly the head was born into her palm.

Smoke was filling the city, homes and shops were on fire, the enemy’s army was tearing her home apart. Loud and sudden blasts echoed down the alleyway, shaking the streets and buildings all around her. Marion fell forward, scrambling on all fours to get away from danger, all the while her baby’s head hung from her body filling her underwear. The rough cobbled street grazed and cut her knees as she crawled further down the side street, desperate to find some shelter. Fluids were leaking from her opening leaving a trail of damp in her wake. She found a door, indented slightly into the brick wall. She tried the handle but it was locked. A cry of fear and frustration left her lungs as she pounded and pushed against the wooden door.

The baby wasn’t waiting for safety or shelter, the next contraction was soon taking hold and she rocked on all fours in the alcove, humming an instinctual noise as the baby’s shoulders started to press against her opening.

“D-don’t…. No….” Marion panted and pleaded with her body.

But her hips sank backwards and she was uncontrollably pushing once more, grunting with every wave as her body worked on expelling the child. “Mnnnghhhhhhh it— it’s coming… I can’t— stop p-p-pushingggggg!!!”

Marion clawed at the door bringing herself up on her knees as the shoulders stretched her opening wide. The baby was waiting for no one and it was coming out right into her underwear. Her fingernails dug deep into the wooden door, her hips sinking towards the floor and she roared with the effort of bearing down, of pushing the baby’s shoulders out of her body. She could feel everything as it slipped out - one shoulder, the next shoulder, its arms and hands and torso as it emerged into her undergarments. Marion managed to prise her hands from the door and scrambled with her clothing to free the path for her baby to enter this world. Pulling the underwear down a few inches she grunted with the desperate final push and the baby suddenly slipped from her body into her hands.

“Ahhh oh Gods… you’re here, you’re out….” Marion gasped, pulling the newborn straight to her chest and sitting back onto her heels. “Hello little one.” The baby shifted and squirmed in her arms and released the softest cry of a first breath.

Exhausted, Marion turned and slumped against the doorway, babe in arms. The sound of crying soon travelled down the side street and footsteps approached. Fear filled Marion’s heart, the enemy was approaching and both she and her baby were defenceless.

“Oh my goodness, is that a baby?” Came a gruff voice above her. She looked up frightened, but when she saw the familiar uniform colour and the warm caramel skin of an Allerian soldier Marion let out a relieved sob.

“Come on Miss, I’ll get you and your baby out of here.” He said kindly.

[osaemu]

when they hug you

PAIRING: tartaglia, xiao, venti, kaeya, diluc, zhongli x reader

SYNOPSIS: when is his embrace the most memorable?

CONTENTS: cursing. indirect mentions of death in xiao and zhongli's parts.

childe spins you around in his arms the second he returns home from another one of his missions. you two collapse in the snow, laughing like children and smiling so hard your faces hurt. being in his arms again feels like home — for both of you.

"haven't seen you in a while, hm? c'mon, let's go grab a drink while you tell me all about what's happened while i was gone, yeah?"

xiao pulls you close in the middle of the night when his mind starts to replay every battle he's ever been through, every friend he's lost, and every time he thought it was over for him. his arms find their way around you because he wants to know that you're still there – to ensure you won't slip through his fingers, just like everyone else did.

"just making sure you're stil— ah, i mean, keeping you safe. go back to sleep. oh, me? i don't need that much sleep. don't worry about me."

venti wraps his arms around you whenever he gets the chance. it's usually for comfort or out of laziness — primarily the latter. sometimes he'd just plop down next to you in the tavern and wrap his arms around your shoulders and lay there, drunkenly mumbling something you can't make out until you finally agree to take him home.

"huh, why is everything so blurry?! i can't— don't let me go, or i'll fall! and if i fall then i- huh? you won't let me fall . . . ? good!"

kaeya wraps his arms around your waist when he has a point to prove, whether it's to you or to the world. if he's trying to make a point to someone else, boom, your pretty face is in between his arms as visual credibility. and god forbid that he's trying to make a point to you, because he'll have no problem trapping you in his arms for as long as it takes to get you to agree with him on whatever the matter is.

"tch, is someone getting distracted? eyes up here, babe. look me in the eye while i tell you why i'm right about this."

diluc hugs you long and hard after a shitty day. he probably has a terrible headache and muscles in desperate need of a massage, but your hand trailing down his back makes everything a little more bearable. 

"fuck, my head is killing me. help your boyfriend out and give him a drink or two, yeah? or a massage. actually, i'd prefer that, love. you're the best."

zhongli holds you in his arms when you're about to leave. maybe it's to go to work, maybe you need groceries, and maybe you even just want to step outside. he always wants to make sure that you leave with a good memory of him — having lived for thousands of years, he knows all too well how unpredictable life is. he never wants to have the regret of seeing you for the last time without a smile on your face.

"bye, darling. i'll see you soon, stay safe... yes, i know i say the same thing every time you leave. why shouldn't i?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i had a three year long childe phase </3

[fairykazu]

GINGERBREAD COMPETITION WITH CHILDE contents // established relationship, cheesy pick up lines / nicknames, baking chaos, one f bomb notes // i wanted this to be longer but ive delayed it for so much. hopefully by the time this is up im working on the next oneshot masterlist

childe had that look in his eyes, the fighting spirit he gets when he gets an idea to fight with you. playfully, of course. "babe," you weren't looking in his direction, instead, you were wrapping bows over the presents.

once he gets an idea, he never lets it go. "babe," he began to pester you, poking you in the sides while you were as still as a rock, used to of his antics. he started to frown, "babe, name, c'mon, aren't you my my sweet pea pookie? the apple of my eye?"

didn't phase you yet? don't worry, he still has a lot of nicknames up his sleeve. you began to wrap more presents. "sweetie muffin?"

you know if you give in, you have to listen to whatever he says to say for the moment but if you don't, he will pressingly continue with the cringe nicknames to make you listen to his announcement. as much you do want to know his announcement, you also wanted to finish wrapping presents as soon as possible.

"pumpkin butter honey biscuit..." that actually sounds really good. he pouted, it's really cute how he pouts despite the current circumstances. he's like a pitiful dog.

you were keeping your defenses up until he got closer to the nape of your neck, whispering, "sweet mcdreamy nutter butter... please..."

now that was terrible, you winced, "what?" he smiled when he finally got your attention, he cleared his throat while he held a fake microphone, "ahem, may i announce an idea?"

after finishing two bows, you tapped your chin with your finger, pretending to think, "hmmmm," you looked into his cerulean eyes pleading you to say yes. "you may."

already from your answer, he was with glee. he began to act like a host in those reality tv shows, "in honor of the winter spirit and tsarita, i say, 'we shall, have a gingerbread competition!'"

the idea has crossed your mind but considering the baking skills and how much childe likes to wing his recipes, "gingerbread competiton? who's going to make the bread?"

he smiled, "we are!" snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you up from the floor. you tapped on his shoulder as he sets you down, you furrowed a brow,

"the recipe?"

childe waved his phone around, "xiangling!"

you nodded, thankful that childe wouldn't wing the cookies this time. last time it was too salty when salt was supposed to enhance the sugar in the gingerbread. "okay, fine. what's the prizes?"

he exhaled nervously as you peered at him, "i didn't think this far. i thought you would reject my idea."

"start with the thinking pretty boy!"

flustered a little, he replied back with "ok, my sugar snookums."

you sighed, "i need you to stop with these, ajax." he laughed a little,

"these won't stop, pookie dookie bookie."

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

as the ingredients are prepped and ready, the challenge is set. the person with the best house, voting decided on instagram, would win by choosing the christmas movie and halloween costume for the next year, which isn't a prize per say but childe thinks so. despite the fact, you suggest he should choose and he always faltered to go with yours.

childe rolled up his sleeves as you tidied up your hair. glancing at your boyfriend, you recalled back when people had told you different rumors about him. how he was a playboy or indifferent cold hearted person, despite it all, you didn't fall for those.

but one particular one caught your attention, one being his eyes being always blank, missing a shine in his eyes. but when you look into his, it's always filled with light like how the sea reflects the light in every wave in sunny afternoons. "babe? is something wrong?"

"yeah," you replied as childe's face became concerned. he held your head in his hands, inspecting anything on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"you're too pretty."

he giggled, twirling one ginger lock around his fingers before turning around, clearing his throat. a dust of pink across his face, "i mean, thank you, babe. i appreciate it!! um, let's get started, yeah!!"

it was an hour in, the gingerbread cookies were done baking, cooling off away from the oven. while you were sketching your idea for your house, thinking about a castle or maybe a cottage? childe tapped your shoulder, you turned to his direction,

"hey girl, mind if we take a picture?"

you ignored him and continued to draw, "hey, c'mon," he pouted as sighing as you turned to him again. "'cause i need to show Santa exactly what i want for Christmas." he winked as you laughed,

"okay, childe."

"im the rizzler- wait what?"

"what?"

"childe? not even babe? you hate me!" childe bawled, dramatically draping his hand against his forehead. "didn't know that you are such an ice queen. i think im going to get a frostbite from your gaze of hatred and bullying," he started to frown, eyes pretending to water.

he's so dramatic. you sighed deeply, snaking your arms around him. he burrowed his head into your shoulder, soaking up the attention you're giving him, "i apologize, my blizzard babe, i'm trying to win the competition."

childe's jaw dropped, "YOU SAID A CHEESY NICKNAME???? i can't believe youre getting into the christmas spirit." he silently cheered as you retorted,

"and no one will believe you that i did."

"fuck."

[fatuismooches]

Reader is always sitting on dottore’s lap.. but what if dottore say on readers lap instead?I love the idea of reader holding one of the segments while they work just sitting on their lap <3 They will get antsy and flustered but you can easily fix that with a peck!! 😌

Something about being close and up and personal with dotty makes me feel so fuzzy and warm! I want to cup his face, kiss him all over, tell him I love him again and again!!! I just really really love the closeness for dottore :(

This goes for the segments as well because they deserve all the love too. Especially webttore!! Give that man a hug during one of his passion rants, no questions asked just do it.

And when I think of akademiya zandik & reader, I think of so much BECAUSE THAT WAS THE HONEYMOON PHASE!!!!! Just two dorks being in love and defending each other and trusting one another. Imagine reader with zandik after he tells them a bit of his past, his childhood, (A bit OOC but perhaps that could be the first instance where reader sees zandik cry for the first time..?) with reader reassuring him whilst embracing him.

I’d love to come back here and talk more!! Can I please become 🎨 anon? I do have troubles with speaking so I am sorry if this is a bit wonky. :1

There are certain words that you simply do not refer to Il Dottore as. Cute and submissive are two of these words, but you? You use them anyway. Because they are cute and submissive when they're all comfortable (although terribly embarrassed and defensive) in your lap. In the beginning, when you suggest the idea, Dottore and the other segments laugh at you because they think it's an amusing joke but, nope, you're 100% serious. It takes... a lot of perseverance and bothering and begging and pleading but!! Soon you'll have the segments fighting over who gets to sit in your lap, because well... it's comfy and soft and they get to be held by you for hours on end as they do their work... (Prime and Omega are obviously the last to give in, their egos are not handling this embarrassing treatment.) You always wrap your arm around him and ask him about his work! Giving him kisses when he starts to get irritated and working your hands into his shoulders and back... :( You're good at repelling the oncoming stress and headaches in this position.

Webttore's ego literally blows up whenever you show such blatant affection and interest in his rants, like yes please keep indulging because he WON'T stop as long as you keep doing it. You could be on the verge of falling asleep and all you hear is him continuing to tell his stories in the background. He wouldn't even notice at first because he gets very into his storytelling as to how he casually demolished a few dozen camps of enemies but then he realizes you aren't commenting anymore... oh you fell asleep :( all of this was probably too much for you to handle all at once...

HONEYMOON PHASE AKADEMIYA ZANDIK AND YOU... :( ugh you're so right 🎨 anon. That was when times were so much simpler... sure school is a pain but!! It was fun. It was when you two found love. Finding comfort, finding each other. It was when you two could simply be Zandik and [Name], no other titles getting in the way.

Zandik despised opening up about himself, much less his past so, he'd only tell you after like many years, and even then he kept it brief and acted like he didn't care and it didn't affect him, because he didn't want to be pitied, he doesn't want your comfort. And so you don't push the topic, but you know he was hurt by it, hurt by being called a monster since birth, being run out by the people who were supposed to be family. So when he does end up crying about it, you don't say a word, you just hold him even as he tries to cover it up, even as he curses you for being like this, because you love him.

[babytarttdoodoo]

Can you write one of Jamie showing up to training sick and the team has to convince him to go home? Then someone takes him home (I want it to be Roy even though Roy probably shouldn't leave training when he's in charge for Roy/Jamie shipping reasons, but all the lads wanting to care of him would also be nice)

Who needs realism when we can have fluff? I went a bit off script but I hope you still enjoy it.

Thank you for the prompt!

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

Isaac was generally the first player to arrive for training at Nelson Road. He tried to set a good example, being captain and all that.

Jamie, despite living closer to the grounds than most, usually strolled in with less than 10 minutes left to get changed and out on the field.

It used to annoy members of the team, Isaac included. These days, he knew that Jamie and Roy had extra early workout sessions together and that Jamie was just genuinely awful at managing his time in the mornings. It was fine - he never held anyone else up.

But it was therefore extremely surprising to find him in the locker room a full hour before training was due to start, dressed to play and slumped halfway into his cubby.

“Alright, bruv?” Isaac gave him a cautious nod and dropped his stuff at his section of the bench. “What are you doing here?”

Jamie was slow to answer, blinking bleary eyes at Isaac and apparently needing a minute to take in the question.

He sniffed. “... training, innit?”

“Yeah…” Isaac affirmed, frowning at his rough voice and general dishevelled state. “Don’t normally see you this early, though.”

Jamie hummed and nodded like that was a fair observation.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Well, that probably went some way to explaining the state of him. There were dark smudges under Jamie’s eyes and his hair, rather than carefully styled in the swept-back quiff he’d taken to lately, hung limp and unkempt over his forehead.

He looked kind of terrible, actually.

Roy wouldn’t have let him come in if there was anything seriously wrong, though. That much, Isaac was sure of.

He hadn’t been overly surprised when the pair had told the team they were together. There had always been a weird level of intensity between the two and more than one person over the years had quietly speculated that at least some of it was down to sexual tension.

Any worries about how it would affect team dynamics had simmered down quick enough, too. If anything, they both seemed to overcompensate at work to make sure they couldn’t be accused of dropping the ball, so to speak.

But they did obviously spend their mornings together, training or otherwise, even if they arrived on different schedules. And though Roy was still hard on Jamie as a coach, he was also exceedingly protective as a boyfriend.

If something more than a bad night’s sleep were at play, he would have insisted Jamie stayed home.

Still, Isaac kept a careful eye and ear out while he went through his routine of getting ready. It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing for Jamie to fall asleep where he sat and get a quick nap in, but it was best to be ready to catch him if he toppled off the bench in the process.

Dani was the next to arrive, far too perky for the early hour and seemingly not phased by Jamie’s presence. His smile did dim at the lack of response to his bright greeting but Isaac caught his eye and gestured for him to keep it down a bit.

The message was received and passed on through silent glances and elaborate head tilts as more players filtered in, a collective effort to let Jamie close his eyes and snooze overriding the usual rambunctious atmosphere. Isaac was very proud.

Nate was the first of the coaching staff to arrive. He looked confused at the lack of rabble in the room and his gaze followed everyone else’s to see Jamie snoring softly. They all shushed him frantically when he opened his mouth to clearly try and rouse him.

Isaac, Sam and Colin beckoned him over to the other side of the room.

“What’s up with Jamie?” he asked quietly, looking between them.

“Just said he didn’t sleep well.” Isaac shrugged. “He was in before me. Seemed kind of out of it.”

“He doesn’t look alright.” Colin put in, frowning over at their pale and sleeping teammate.

“Have you heard from Roy today?” Sam asked Nate, worry pinching the corners of his eyes. “He must know if something is wrong.”

“I haven’t.” Nate checked his phone but shook his head. “No, nothing. They don’t always come in together, though.”

“But they train in the mornings.” Dani whisper-shouted from his end of the bench, clearly listening in and echoing Isaac’s own thought processes from earlier.

“It could be that Jamie did not sleep because they had a fight…?” Richard ventured reluctantly, holding up his hands in defence when the room hissed at him in disgust. “Just a suggestion!”

“If Jamie were angry or upset, he would be running laps or sulking, not sleeping.” Sam pointed out.

“And they wouldn’t bring that shit into work.” Isaac stated with surety.

Nate looked back at Jamie and checked the time on his watch.

“We’ll need to wake him up soon and make sure he’s okay. He can’t just sleep in here all day.” He peered over into the coaches’ office and looked relieved to see movement. “I think Beard’s arrived - I’ll go see if he’s got any ideas.”

The air of respectful quiet had shifted to uncertain worry as everyone started to question, internally or amongst themselves, exactly why Jamie was so exhausted. He didn’t have the best track record with open communication when something was wrong.

Could there be something up between him and Roy?

As if on cue, their manager stalked into the locker room and was immediately taken aback by the subdued environment. He stopped dead in the doorway and scowled.

“What the fuck’s up with you lot?”

“Roy?” Jamie stirred and opened his eyes to a squint in search of the familiar voice. Roy’s head immediately snapped to the side and took in Jamie’s half-reclined form.

“You look like shit.” Only years of experience let Isaac pick up on the surprise and concern in Roy’s voice. Vague worries about trouble in paradise dissipated immediately.

Jamie - predictably - pouted up at him. “‘S not nice.”

The slurred speech sent Roy’s eyebrows flying up in alarm and his emotions suddenly became a lot more visible to the untrained eye. He quickly pressed the back of his hand against Jamie’s forehead, cursing quietly at whatever he felt there.

“Fucking hell, Jamie. You could have called me.”

“Were you not together?” Sam asked, now also clearly edging back towards distress. Nate and Beard emerged from the office at the new wave of commotion.

Roy shook his head. “No. Phoebe’s been staying at mine while she’s off school with the flu. Told this idiot to go home last night and get some proper sleep.”

He sighed and, despite his harsh words, gently smoothed back Jamie’s hair.

“You’re supposed to tell someone when you catch the plague, you muppet.”

Jamie just whined pitifully and leaned into the contact so hard he almost slumped right off the bench. Half the team jolted in place with aborted attempts to catch him.

Roy was right there, though, and easily tipped him back to a safe sitting position, grip steady.

“Alright, prima donna. Let’s get you home.” He looked over to Nate and Beard. “You two good to get things started? I can be back in an hour or two.”

“Take your time.” Beard gave him a firm nod and Nate mumbled his agreement, brow furrowed at the scene. “We got this.”

Declan swept in to help pack up Jamie’s things as Roy cajoled him to his feet and slid an arm around his waist to keep him upright. He accepted the duffle bag with a grateful grunt and started shuffling his boyfriend towards the exit.

“Let us know if you need anything, yeah?” Isaac demanded when they were finally underway.

Roy looked back over his shoulder and half-smiled at the room of worried eyes staring back at him. “Will do, captain. Keep an eye on the rest of them for me.”

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it. Also there are too many shows on and something is always finishing or starting so a month is a lot.

BL - Currently Watching

1000 Years Old [2/12] - It's silly, and entertaining and makes me laugh. The friend group is delightful and I'm having a good time watching them. Was excited for a minute when Yo suggested a haircut for Pun because I cannot handle that wig. 🤞

Anti Reset [5/10] - This is one of the most frustrating shows I've watched in a while. The show doesn't seem to settle on what is actually trying to say about the AI of it all, and when it says something I'm not crazy about it. Why is it so frustrating? Because they are so fucking endearing when they're together on screen. I wanna love this show so much.

Cherry Magic Th [11/12]– I love them so much. I'm fascinated by the choices that the show is making. As a big fan of the manga and the jbl I came into this with reservations and this show is just blowing my mind. This was the best episode 11 of all time and Tay/New are delivering. My heart is so full with this.

Cherry Magic Anime [7/12]– Another helicopter ride! Yay. The date song was hilarious. We're now getting to the point where they are dating and Adachi is feeling guilty for lying so I'm curious how the show will adapt the next phase of the relationship.

Dead Friend Forever [10/12]– Glad to see we are all on board with Tan's murderous impulses. It's been so much fun having more people join in on the fun. As for me, I NEED White to stay alive. That's really all I want. Getting curious about how Perth factors in to all of this.

My Strawberry Film[2/8] - I feel it coming. I see sadness in my future. But I'm bracing because I'm loving the look of this show. And pining boys are my favourite type of boys. I'm ready.

Ossan's Love Returns [8/9] - The videos messages destroyed me but then that ending made me annoyed. I don't know what to expect in terms of Kurosawa but I hope he's not actually dying and there's a really good reason for all this. Medical mal practice might be the thing. Although as @twig-tea pointed out to me, since it was said in show it might not actually happen. I want happy for the ending anyway.

Perfect Propose [5/6] . Why must I only have them for 6 episodes??? I need more. Kai is everything to me, and that back hug followed by that smile melted by cold heart. Hiro's boss needs something heavy to fall on him from a great height. And please Hiro,sweetie, I need you to eat better and sleep.

Although I Love You, and You? [7/10]- Sakae is letting me down. And by that I mean, the show is letting me down. Sakae needs to put his foot down with Mizuki and go back to being a fool in love with Soga.

To Be Continued [1/8] - It's not amazing. but I'm a sucker for second chance romance and there are two couples so there's a 50% chance I will like this. We'll see. Also, they need to start hiring younger actors for the high school flashbacks. This goes for A Secretly Love too. Having 27 year olds and up playing ten years younger just won't do. It's terrible.

Unknown [2/12] - I'm intrigued. Not completely sold yet but I'm liking it so far. Also nothing would keep me away from watching Sam Lin again.

Also watched the first episode of A Secretly Love and caught up with City of Stars but it's on the 'I need to shut of my brain' schedule so I'm not necessarily watching to weekly.

BL - Finished

Cooking Crush - I will miss all of them. I loved it so much. The whole cut/uncut version thing was annoying and the editing was weird at times but overall this was wonderful. Communication done right. Relationships and character growth was stellar and both couples won my heart. Aungpao really surprised me, considering he was surrounded my pros on all sides. Dynamite was a joy to watch. And OffGun delivering with all the kissing. Everyone should watch this.

The Sign - I mean, what they did to this show is absolutely insane. Not airing the finale like the rest of the show. Having to pay extra for happy ending is ridiculous (although I kinda predicted this and @lurkingshan is my witness. I said as a joke and it turns out reality is a joke.) Then waiting 2 whole weeks for whatever that was. Just the most unsatisfying experience. Go read this from Shan because I agree with everything said there. Also @bengiyo final thoughts here really echo how I felt about this show overall.

Happy Ending - 20 minutes split in 3. Why? No idea. Was it a happy ending? I think so. Was it cute? Sure. Was it great to watch Seong Hyuk again? You betcha. But I didn't love it. I need Choco Milk Shake S2, like, TODAY.

Playboyy - It ended.

Rose Watches OJBL - I feel bad about this. I didn't watch any of the ones I planned to. This might seem like whatever but I've been trying to catch up with awards season films, because since uni, me and a couple of friends always do it and finish it by watching the oscars together and so ojbl was were I dropped the ball. Gonna restart soon though.

Not BL - Watched this month

Night Has Come Death's Game Shop for Killers

That's it for right now. As usual my ask box is open for gif requests and any other questions. All my gifs are under #rosygifs.

Have a good week💜

[rodeoxqueen]

Can I have a sequal 2 da Dante x Reader birth to his darughter…. Lik what he iz lik after his daughter iz b0rn and what his wife (y/n) is like

Sure thing.

-Rodeo.

Loves his daughter. Loves her very much.

Definitely extremely protective over her since he is the infamous son of Sparda and she the granddaughter.

Sings her old bar tunes from his younger more degenerate years.

Definitely gets a little more serious when he has his daughter but only because he’s terrified of anything happening to her.

Picks up little trinkets for her.

When she was younger and teething she’d cry over sore gums and Dante would slip her a crust of pizza to gum away at when you weren’t looking.

He sucks at cooking but he can make simple things for her.

Dante would love his wife like it was his first time ever seeing her every day.

Becomes very domestic.

Will wake up later than the two of you in the mornings but makes it his job to scoop the two of you up once he makes it to the kitchen where you’re making breakfast.

His daughter will have a phase where she is disgusted by how deeply in love the two of you are. She also thought your real name was either babe or sugar for a while.

He’s got trauma from his childhood and how abruptly it ended so he’ll never want his little girl to grow up too fast. He tries to keep the ugliness of the world away from her as much as he can.

Dante’s daughter will sneak away from curfew to join her old man on missions and eventually Dante realizes he can’t keep her away from his bounty hunter life.

His wife, oh his wife.

He loves wearing his ring. A simple silver band with your name engraved.

His wife would have to be very nurturing but tough. He wouldn’t put a woman through his life unless he knew she could handle it.

He likely wouldn’t trust a civilian and would probably prefer a woman who also knew of the demon world and how to eradicate her weight in devils.

However, the two of you quickly fall into domestic life together, especially with the child.

You’d be understanding when he came home too late but his daughter is very much a daddy’s girl and would jump for joy at his return.

Drinks in front of his daughter and when she’s older she’ll make fun of him or steal his handles when she has her friends over.

Wants to be a cool dad but knows kids these days aren’t as easily impressed as they used to be.

His wife definitely grounds Dante from going too low and shooting too high. He struggles with both.

He really needs a ride or die but please don’t die. His worst fear is ending up like his mother in that sense where he’ll have to raise your daughter alone. ;(.

Once puberty happens and all of a sudden daddy’s girl doesn’t want to be near him at all and is always rolling her eyes, he’s devastated. He’s just glad she has a good relationship with you at least during that era so he at least can hear how she’s doing from a second source.

“No please not the teenage angst. She gets it from me.”

Will blow his top if he catches her being disrespectful to you.

His daughter after a terrible fight will find him later with a bourbon in hand and a photo book of her baby photos. He asks her to sit down and tells her-

“I know things aren’t very good between us right now but if anything, anything happened to you…I wouldn’t know what to do.”

A little goes a long way and the two are quick to go back to being close.

Will spend money he doesn’t have on her. She would be spoiled if you as her mother didn’t set boundaries.

Won’t take it easy on her sparring wise since she’s a quarter demon and needs to know how to strut her trigger when she needs it. The tough love pays off.

All in all, Dante desperately wants to be a good father and be present at everything. He’ll want to involve himself in everything she’s up to and is willing to invite him to.

Most likely, he’ll find himself extremely happy in this new family of his, of strong loving women who take no shit.

Please let Dante settle down and be happy Capcom I ain’t gonna keep begging.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[From my blogging buddy Steve Renfro]

+

A large excerpt from Annie Dillards essay on a total eclipse in 1979. I probably go back and read it just about every year for the last 8 years. Posted without permission.

“I had seen a partial eclipse in 1970. A partial eclipse is very interesting. It bears almost no relation to a total eclipse. Seeing a partial eclipse bears the same relation to seeing a total eclipse as kissing a man does to marrying him, or as flying in an airplane does to falling out of an airplane. Although the one experience precedes the other, it in no way prepares you for it. During a partial eclipse the sky does not darken—not even when 94 percent of the sun is hidden. Nor does the sun, seen colorless through protective devices, seem terribly strange. We have all seen a sliver of light in the sky; we have all seen the crescent moon by day. However, during a partial eclipse the air does indeed get cold, precisely as if someone were standing between you and the fire. And blackbirds do fly back to their roosts. I had seen a partial eclipse before, and here was another.

What you see in an eclipse is entirely different from what you know. It is especially different for those of us whose grasp of astronomy is so frail that, given a flashlight, a grapefruit, two oranges, and 15 years, we still could not figure out which way to set the clocks for daylight saving time. Usually it is a bit of a trick to keep your knowledge from blinding you. But during an eclipse it is easy. What you see is much more convincing than any wild-eyed theory you may know.

You may read that the moon has something to do with eclipses. I have never seen the moon yet. You do not see the moon. So near the sun, it is as completely invisible as the stars are by day. What you see before your eyes is the sun going through phases. It gets narrower and narrower, as the waning moon does, and, like the ordinary moon, it travels alone in the simple sky. The sky is of course background. It does not appear to eat the sun; it is far behind the sun. The sun simply shaves away; gradually, you see less sun and more sky.

The sky’s blue was deepening, but there was no darkness. The sun was a wide crescent, like a segment of tangerine. The wind freshened and blew steadily over the hill. The eastern hill across the highway grew dusky and sharp. The towns and orchards in the valley to the south were dissolving into the blue light. Only the thin river held a trickle of sun.

Now the sky to the west deepened to indigo, a color never seen. A dark sky usually loses color. This was a saturated, deep indigo, up in the air. Stuck up into that unworldly sky was the cone of Mount Adams, and the alpenglow was upon it. The alpenglow is that red light of sunset that holds out on snowy mountaintops long after the valleys and tablelands are dimmed. “Look at Mount Adams,” I said, and that was the last sane moment I remember.

I turned back to the sun. It was going. The sun was going, and the world was wrong. The grasses were wrong; they were platinum. Their every detail of stem, head, and blade shone lightless and artificially distinct as an art photographer’s platinum print. This color has never been seen on Earth. The hues were metallic; their finish was matte. The hillside was a 19th-century tinted photograph from which the tints had faded. All the people you see in the photograph, distinct and detailed as their faces look, are now dead. The sky was navy blue. My hands were silver. All the distant hills’ grasses were finespun metal that the wind laid down. I was watching a faded color print of a movie filmed in the Middle Ages; I was standing in it, by some mistake. I was standing in a movie of hillside grasses filmed in the Middle Ages. I missed my own century, the people I knew, and the real light of day.

I looked at Gary. He was in the film. Everything was lost. He was a platinum print, a dead artist’s version of life. I saw on his skull the darkness of night mixed with the colors of day. My mind was going out; my eyes were receding the way galaxies recede to the rim of space. Gary was light-years away, gesturing inside a circle of darkness, down the wrong end of a telescope. He smiled as if he saw me; the stringy crinkles around his eyes moved. The sight of him, familiar and wrong, was something I was remembering from centuries hence, from the other side of death: Yes, that is the way he used to look, when we were living. When it was our generation’s turn to be alive. I could not hear him; the wind was too loud. Behind him the sun was going. We had all started down a chute of time. At first it was pleasant; now there was no stopping it. Gary was chuting away across space, moving and talking and catching my eye, chuting down the long corridor of separation. The skin on his face moved like thin bronze plating that would peel.

From all the hills came screams. A piece of sky beside the crescent sun was detaching. It was a loosened circle of evening sky, suddenly lit from the back. It was an abrupt black body out of nowhere; it was a flat disk; it was almost over the sun. That is when there were screams. At once this disk of sky slid over the sun like a lid. The sky snapped over the sun like a lens cover. The hatch in the brain slammed. Abruptly it was dark night, on the land and in the sky. In the night sky was a tiny ring of light. The hole where the sun belongs is very small. A thin ring of light marked its place. There was no sound. The eyes dried, the arteries drained, the lungs hushed. There was no world. We were the world’s dead people rotating and orbiting around and around, embedded in the planet’s crust, while the Earth rolled down. Our minds were light-years distant, forgetful of almost everything. Only an extraordinary act of will could recall to us our former, living selves and our contexts in matter and time. We had, it seems, loved the planet and loved our lives, but could no longer remember the way of them. We got the light wrong. In the sky was something that should not be there. In the black sky was a ring of light. It was a thin ring, an old, thin silver wedding band, an old, worn ring. It was an old wedding band in the sky, or a morsel of bone. There were stars. It was all over.

I saw, early in the morning, the sun diminish against a backdrop of sky. I saw a circular piece of that sky appear, suddenly detached, blackened, and backlit; from nowhere it came and overlapped the sun. It did not look like the moon. It was enormous and black. If I had not read that it was the moon, I could have seen the sight a hundred times and never thought of the moon once. (If, however, I had not read that it was the moon—if, like most of the world’s people throughout time, I had simply glanced up and seen this thing—then I doubtless would not have speculated much, but would have, like Emperor Louis of Bavaria in 840, simply died of fright on the spot.) It did not look like a dragon, although it looked more like a dragon than the moon. It looked like a lens cover, or the lid of a pot. It materialized out of thin air—black, and flat, and sliding, outlined in flame.

Seeing this black body was like seeing a mushroom cloud. The heart screeched. The meaning of the sight overwhelmed its fascination. It obliterated meaning itself. If you were to glance out one day and see a row of mushroom clouds rising on the horizon, you would know at once that what you were seeing, remarkable as it was, was intrinsically not worth remarking. No use running to tell anyone. Significant as it was, it did not matter a whit. For what is significance? It is significance for people. No people, no significance. This is all I have to tell you.

In the deeps are the violence and terror of which psychology has warned us. But if you ride these monsters deeper down, if you drop with them further over the world’s rim, you find what our sciences cannot locate or name, the substrate, the ocean or matrix or ether that buoys the rest, that gives goodness its power for good, and evil. Its power for evil, the unified field: our complex and inexplicable caring for one another, and for our life together here. This is given. It is not learned.

The world that lay under darkness and stillness following the closing of the lid was not the world we know. The event was over. Its devastation lay around about us. The clamoring mind and heart stilled, almost indifferent, certainly disembodied, frail, and exhausted. The hills were hushed, obliterated. Up in the sky, like a crater from some distant cataclysm, was a hollow ring.

You have seen photographs of the sun taken during a total eclipse. The corona fills the print. All of those photographs were taken through telescopes. The lenses of telescopes and cameras can no more cover the breadth and scale of the visual array than language can cover the breadth and simultaneity of internal experience. Lenses enlarge the sight, omit its context, and make of it a pretty and sensible picture, like something on a Christmas card. I assure you, if you send any shepherds a Christmas card on which is printed a three-by-three photograph of the angel of the Lord, the glory of the Lord, and a multitude of the heavenly host, they will not be sore afraid. More fearsome things can come in envelopes. More moving photographs than those of the sun’s corona can appear in magazines. But I pray you will never see anything more awful in the sky.

You see the wide world swaddled in darkness; you see a vast breadth of hilly land, and an enormous, distant, blackened valley; you see towns’ lights, a river’s path, and blurred portions of your hat and scarf; you see your husband’s face looking like an early black-and-white film; and you see a sprawl of black sky and blue sky together, with unfamiliar stars in it, some barely visible bands of cloud, and over there, a small white ring. The ring is as small as one goose in a flock of migrating geese—if you happen to notice a flock of migrating geese. It is one-360th part of the visible sky. The sun we see is less than half the diameter of a dime held at arm’s length.

The Crab Nebula, in the constellation Taurus, looks, through binoculars, like a smoke ring. It is a star in the process of exploding. Light from its explosion first reached the Earth in 1054; it was a supernova then, and so bright it shone in the daytime. Now it is not so bright, but it is still exploding. It expands at the rate of 70 million miles a day. It is interesting to look through binoculars at something expanding 70 million miles a day. It does not budge. Its apparent size does not increase. Photographs of the Crab Nebula taken 15 years ago seem identical to photographs of it taken yesterday. Some lichens are similar. Botanists have measured some ordinary lichens twice, at 50-year intervals, without detecting any growth at all. And yet their cells divide; they live.

The small ring of light was like these things—like a ridiculous lichen up in the sky, like a perfectly still explosion 4,200 light-years away: It was interesting, and lovely, and in witless motion, and it had nothing to do with anything.

“It can never be satisfied, the mind, never.” Wallace Stevens wrote that, and in the long run he was right. The mind wants to live forever, or to learn a very good reason why not. The mind wants the world to return its love, or its awareness; the mind wants to know all the world, and all eternity, and God. The mind’s sidekick, however, will settle for two eggs over easy.

The dear, stupid body is as easily satisfied as a spaniel. And, incredibly, the simple spaniel can lure the brawling mind to its dish. It is everlastingly funny that the proud, metaphysically ambitious, clamoring mind will hush if you give it an egg.

Further: While the mind reels in deep space, while the mind grieves or fears or exults, the workaday senses, in ignorance or idiocy, like so many computer terminals printing out market prices while the world blows up, still transcribe their little data and transmit them to the warehouse in the skull. Later, under the tranquilizing influence of fried eggs, the mind can sort through the data. The restaurant was a halfway house, a decompression chamber. There I remembered a few things more.

The deepest, and most terrifying, was this: I have said that I heard screams. (I have since read that screaming, with hysteria, is a common reaction even to expected total eclipses.) People on all the hillsides, including, I think, myself, screamed when the black body of the moon detached from the sky and rolled over the sun. But something else was happening at that same instant, and it was this, I believe, that made us scream.

The second before the sun went out we saw a wall of dark shadow come speeding at us. We no sooner saw it than it was upon us, like thunder. It roared up the valley. It slammed our hill and knocked us out. It was the monstrous swift shadow cone of the moon. I have since read that this wave of shadow moves at 1,800 miles an hour. Language can give no sense of this sort of speed—1,800 miles an hour. It was 195 miles wide. No end was in sight—you saw only the edge. It rolled at you across the land at 1,800 miles an hour, hauling darkness like plague behind it. Seeing it, and knowing it was coming straight for you, was like feeling a slug of anesthetic shoot up your arm. If you think very fast, you may have time to think, “Soon it will hit my brain.” You can feel the deadness race up your arm; you can feel the appalling, inhuman speed of your own blood. We saw the wall of shadow coming, and screamed before it hit.

This was the universe about which we have read so much and never before felt: the universe as a clockwork of loose spheres flung at stupefying, unauthorized speeds. How could anything moving so fast not crash, not veer from its orbit amok like a car out of control on a turn?

Less than two minutes later, when the sun emerged, the trailing edge of the shadow cone sped away. It coursed down our hill and raced eastward over the plain, faster than the eye could believe; it swept over the plain and dropped over the planet’s rim in a twinkling. It had clobbered us, and now it roared away. We blinked in the light. It was as though an enormous, loping god in the sky had reached down and slapped the Earth’s face.

Apparently people share a sense of these hazards, for when the total eclipse ended, an odd thing happened.

When the sun appeared as a blinding bead on the ring’s side, the eclipse was over. The black lens cover appeared again, backlit, and slid away. At once the yellow light made the sky blue again; the black lid dissolved and vanished. The real world began there. I remember now: We all hurried away. We were born and bored at a stroke. We rushed down the hill. We found our car; we saw the other people streaming down the hillsides; we joined the highway traffic and drove away.

We never looked back. It was a general vamoose, and an odd one, for when we left the hill, the sun was still partially eclipsed—a sight rare enough, and one which, in itself, we would probably have driven five hours to see. But enough is enough. One turns at last even from glory itself with a sigh of relief. From the depths of mystery, and even from the heights of splendor, we bounce back and hurry for the latitudes of home.”

This post is excerpted from Dillard’s book The Abundance: Narrative Essays Old and New. Copyright © 2016 by Annie Dillard.

[londonhalcyon]

I’m in my annual fall writing slump/various video game brainrot phase (happens at the same time every year, don’t worry), so here’s just a general update on my WIPs:

The Mad Witch: I’ve been sticking pretty close to the outline, with only a few minor tweaks, so we’re still looking at around 60 chapters total. Probably a little more based on my propensity to underestimate the chapter word counts, but it shouldn’t be by much. So, in other words, we have about 20-something chapters to go. Made decent progress on Chapter 39 before I hit my slump, so whenever my brain decides to get back on track, the chapter shouldn’t take too long to finish.

Rosemary Reaper: Looking at around 30-40 chapters for this fic, or about half the length of The Mad Witch (hopefully). Over the past two years, I’ve sporadically written 43,000 words for this fic—31,000 for Rosemary Reaper itself, 12,000 for its sequel, which can only be a disastrous case of writer’s hubris. What’s even more dangerous is that I would love for this to be a trilogy, but let’s see if I can pick up the pace and actually finish the first one before I go crazy.

That Skyrim fic: This one is set to be 10 chapters at most, and probably less. In theory, it shouldn’t take me that long to finish it, but I keep forgetting my Elder Scrolls lore and having to look things up, so who knows at this point. If the Fallout brainrot hits in fall, the Skyrim brainrot tends to hit in winter, so we’ll see what happens them.

Also, I’ve been super terrible at responding to everything lately—emails, texts, phone calls, etc.—so if you left an AO3 comment any time within the past few weeks, I saw it, I love you, I appreciate you. As soon as my brain feels less like a hyperactive dog tangled in its own leash, I’ll get back to interacting with people.

[sofiiel]

Dial Tone Ch.5 | Duality

Chapter Theme | Previous | Masterlist | Next

You sat at the police station with a small paper cup in your hands, gazing at the water within. Your fingers felt numb even against the warmth seeping through the paper. Chewing your lip, you pulled dead skin from it. Your panicked eyes cried themselves dry.

Nancy left you some time ago, to investigate further and to go with the police, she wanted to help as much as she could, maybe they needed more information, she also to be there when they brought the news to Fred's parents.

Your eyelids fluttering as your thoughts took you back and forth between two terrible conclusions. "Someone has him" and "he's already gone."

"Eddie would have come to me by now, he would have." Your mind reels. "Me and my wanting to fix things, stupid quater-life crisis," you pull too hard on the dead skin on your lip, ripping up a healthy layer and tasting the blood in your mouth, "and I took it out on Eddie, I freaked him out, It ended everything we had now he - my chance to ever fix it or tell i'm I'm sorry for being a basketcase might be gone."

The door to the police station swung open as Wayne rushed in, tired eyes shinning with concern. "Where is she/he?" He asked, his eyes falling on Flo.

Flo pointed in your direction, she'd given you water and tried her best to make you comfortable. But nothing helped the state you were in.

Wayne's steps slow as he calmly takes a seat next to you. "Hey kiddo," He said. You sucked in your lips and shook your head, turning to look at him. " Let's get you home." said Wayne, as he helped you to your feet.

"They haven't questioned her/him yet," Flo says.

"Look at 'em," Wayne said, "does she/he look like hours of interrogation is a good idea?" He asked. Flo fell silent and sighed, "I'll let Powell know you came bye and got her/him." He said. "Thanks." Wayne said, walking you out of the station.

The ride back to your apartment was a quiet one.

Wayne rolled out his foldout bed, and you locked yourself away in your room. On hands and knees, you dig around under your bed, pulling out articles of clothing and chucking them across the floor. Reaching for a box.

Pulling the box out from under the bed and onto your lap, you sniffle and rummage through it. Old doodles drawn on cigarette pack foil and gum wrappers, from another phase Eddie went through of 'cute things' during your third year together. "Eddie, this is trash," you remember telling him.

"And now we're recycling, babe. Saving the earth and being cute as hell while doing it. Look, it's you in my clothes." You could almost hear his reply as if he'd been beside you again, showing you that miniscule drawing.

You give a sniffle, and pull out a short brown braid.

"Eddie, wh-what is this?"

"I cut off some of my hair. It's easy to keep track of this way and carry around."

"Y-you want to carry around, Eddie there is hair on your head!"

"It's not for me, it's for you, babe. I hear it's lucky...in some places to gift a lock of hair to your lover."

You chuckle at the memory, he'd gotten the idea after being in trouble for being late for your date, "why're you so good at making sure I'm not mad at you?" you question, gazing down at the braided lock.

Old bandanas, a heart shaped rock he'd gotten stuck in his shoe, handmade valentines cards, a friendship bracelet from middle school.

"There you are." you whisper with a smile, holding up a tape. "Because I won't say it right, please play this and listen closely." was scrawled in tiny writing across a strip of packing tap. Popping it in the stereo, it brought back the memory in a flood.

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

Spring of 1982

Eddie opened the front door, you were greeted by a wide smile as he leaned against the doorway. "You're late." He hummed, "A wizard is never late, she/he arrives precisely when she/he means to." You said.

"Yeah, only I'm the wizard, and you're the knight." Eddie pointed out. You roll your eyes, "last campaign I was the wizard." You said as he let you inside. Sniffing the air, you laugh, "You bathed in that fragrance didn't you?" You asked him in a small laugh.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, "um...the thing broke on it and," He stammered. It was the scent you said you liked after sitting close to Keven Saunders in 3rd period, and Eddie was hoping for some brownie points with his endeavor today. Too bad he didn't know how Cologne worked.

Eddie cleared his throat and lead you to his bedroom, "where's Wayne? It's his off day, isn't it?" You asked. "Uuuuhhhh, yeah, he um...had things to do....you know," Eddie lulled as he sat at the edge of his bed.

You took his desk chair, "huh, damn all that stuff getting in the way of relaxation. Poor Uncle." You say. Eddie riffled with something in his vest pocket.

"Why are you being so weird?" You asked him cautiously.

"I just..." Eddie sighed, "alright, this isn't working." he muttered. His eyes flickered into your gaze as Eddie got to his feet, taking both your hands he guided you to sit in his place on the bed. You watch in confusion while Eddie goes to his stereo and pops in a tape from his pocket.

It clicks in place, Eddie's shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath in and out.

"Ok, I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to tell you this, or explain it so - I made you something." Eddie explained slowly, he takes a seat next to you, one leg tucked under him as the other dangled off the edge. The seriousness in his eyes ripped the butterflies in your stomach from their safe cocoons.

"You can talk to be about anything. You know that." You remind him. Eddie smiles at you, "this is harder, scary, I guess. Just, please listen." he said. You give a nod, heart beating fast, you didn't know what you expected.

"Yeah so um...." Eddie's voice spoke on the tape. "Hand picked with love, enjoy?" it said with a question, it causes you to giggle, and Eddie fights off blushing.

"For many hours and days that pass ever soon, the tides have caused the flame to dim. At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom, Is this to end or just begin?"

Your breath got caught in your throat, and your jaw clenched. Your heart is hammering away like a handyman. You find it's impossible to look at Eddie, though he sits nervously, wringing his hands. He knows you knew this song.

"All of my love, all of my love. All of my love to you, oh"

Your frozen eyes trapped to the stereo. "Um, the other songs...they aren't shit I listen to, but..." Eddie muttered as the song came to an end.

"I need you to love me, I need you today. Give to me your leather take from me my lace"

Spoke the next song.

"But just between you and me, baby I know our love will be"

"Oh you make my world, a summer day. Are you just a dream to fade away?"

"I say, I want you to try to understand. That I, I want to be your lovin' man, babe"

You exhale and close your eyes, each of the following three songs dragging a smile clutched between the legs of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"It's getting hotter, it's a burning love, and I just can't seem to get enough"

You hopped up and turned the volume down before your chest burst open. Eddie bit his lip behind you. "so..." he hummed. "s-say something?" He murmured.

You turned to face him, Eddie looked down at his hand plucking at the frayed string of his ripped jeans, twirling his hair around his finger.

Silently walking towards him, your hands slip under Eddie's chin, and tilting your head, you bring him into a timid kiss. Eddie's hands hold your arms as he leans in. "You know the tape is nice but-"

"I've liked you, I've always like you, and now I'm pretty sure I love you. Because you're ok with all my....me. Your you makes my me more and..."

You giggled as he rambled in a daze. "I told you I'd mess up the words." he muttered.

"No, no, it's perfect. Keep going." you say.

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

The memory fades, and you're left alone in your room, silently crying to a mix of music that both is and isn't your flavor. Crushed under the weight of the bad thoughts, the unasked for mental pictures of Eddie, his bones twisted like a broken pretzel at the bottom of the bag.

Wayne lingered on the other side of the door for a moment, your sniffles slipping past the quieter places within the songs. He remembered the day Eddie pieced that tape together.

Knocking with the knuckle of his finger, Wayne made his presence known. "You ok in there, kid?" He asked.

Getting up, you trudge to the door and open in, "no." you admit. "What if what happened to Fred and Chrissy-"

"Neither of us is gon' think about that. Not right now." Wayne stated firmly. "Not until they've got proof. Same as their thoughts that Eddie did it. Nothing happened until they prove it to us. Alright?" Wayne asked.

You wipe your eyes, and nodd. "Right, right, I'm sorry." You said. " Don't be, I had my moment too." Wayne sighed. "Try and get some sleep, you'll have to deal with them asking questions at some point." He said.

"Not that I don't feel bad about this, but I really should be getting home." Robin said. They'd spent hours debriefing Eddie about the upside down, Demogorons, Demodogs, and the gate. Though there was still much to tell, mainly Eleven, the lab, the Russians, and what really happened last summer.

"You weren't kidding when you said it would be hard to take, but after tonight... I'd believe grass is naturally neon pink." Eddie muttered.

"Don't feel bad, I get it." He added, looking over the four sleepy faces lingering in the boathouse with him. "And you know...thanks, man." Eddie said, turning to Dustin.

"Of course." Dustin said, a small smile then came to his face, "I'll be sure to call Y/n and tell her/him-"

Eddie pointed to Dustin, "no," Eddie said with a frown, "you don't tell her/him anything." He said quickly.

"Why not?" Dustin asked, "She/he's losing their mind over everything that's going on."

Eddie's gaze hardened, "because if you guys are right, I don't want Y/n in this shit. Fjora wasn't around when the party fought Vecna in the final battle, and took a hit that nearly killed her/him when that party fought him the first time. If we're dealing with our own personal real life Vecna, I don't Y/n there either." Eddie said.

"She/he's a fighter, but always get roughed up somewhere along the way." Eddie sighed.

"You can't protect me this time." he thought.

"But she/he was crying on the phone, that's bullshit." Steve said. "It's not, you didn't see what this thing did to Chrissy." Eddie protested sharply, he then rubbed his eyes and forehead. "S-she/H-he was crying?" he asked softly, stammering.

"Yeah." Dustin said.

Eddie closed his eyes, "if you call her/him, Y/n will be down here somehow in no time flat. and while that would be pretty damn great. It's the worst idea." Eddie tried to convince himself in his thoughts. He sighed, "no," Eddie looked between Dustin and Steve, "still don't tell her/him, not a word from anyone." He said.

"Fine, we're going to head out, is there anything you need?" asked Dustin, "We'll come back as early as we can." Max jumped in. Eddie fumbled with the note between his fingers. "They've already seen you cry, what's a little more embarrassment." Eddie thought.

"Yeah, Yardley, and if you can actually get in my house. There's a-" Eddie cleared his throat, a rose hue taking over his cheeks in the dim light. "This little stuffed frog, about," He held out his hands to measure, "this big, has an ugly little knitted top hat..." Eddie said.

Steve laughed, "what, like Michigan J. Frog?" He asked.

Eddie looked up at him, "who else?" He asked Steve.

"So soap and Michigan J. Frog knock off. Right." Robin said making a mental note. "You don't move, don't stick your head out of anywhere, we'll be back." Dustin warned Eddie.

"It might be my first rodeo, but I'm not that stupid, Henderson." Eddie said. "I'm just saying, sometimes, when in the fire, you don't think straight." said Dustin.

"Yeah, like peeing in an elevator shaft and then trying to hide when now the room clearly smells like-"

Steve cleared his throat, "We don't need to rehash that, Robin." he said, shaking his head.

"I mean, if you have to go..." Eddie said. "See." Steve called.

"From the top, though?" Robin asked. "Ew, god wait that's different, that means it like...ran down." Eddie said.

Max and Dustin watched the three in silence. "Sorry to break this...fascinating conversation. But we still need to be going." Max said. Dustin shook his head, "what's wrong with you." He asked. Eddie rose his head, "not you." Dustin groaned. "Hello, ambushed and assaulted with a busted bottle," Steve said.

"He does have a reason, that's pretty jarring." Robin chimed.

"Yeah, sorry about that too." Eddie muttered.

"Alright, everybody but Eddie, out!" Dustin called out as he turned to Eddie, "you-"

Eddie nodded his head, "stay here, I know."

Eddie watched the little group leave out the boathouse doors, and once they closed he released a long breath. "Someone believes you," He thought, "but holy shit." Eddie sighed. Eddie could picture your face in his head, "hopefully I can get back soon." he murmured.

Eddie didn't get much sleep, he'd refused to venture back into the house just yet either. It didn't help that his dreams were plagued with nightmares. Visions of anyone and everyone that mattered to him, sharing Chrissy's fate, and eventually him too.

He isn't the only one.

Rolling out of bed, you hit the floor screaming. Motley has puffed up in the corner of your room a ball of spiked fur. He does not appreciate you waking him up in such a manner.

"It's a dream." You gasp, "shit." Your eyes fix to the popcorn ceiling, "Wayne says, we don't know until something is proven." You tell yourself, "so if the big pink ball of zombie spaghetti could please stop ruining my sleep with horrible scenes," you thought getting up to your feet, "that would be nice." you sighed.

Looking at your clock, you realize that Wayne most likely headed out already. He needed the rest, having late shifts at the plant. However, there was little of that to go around for the man who lived with the police's main suspect.

You glare at the carpet, "no doubt I'll be seeing Callahan and Powell again as well." You thought. "Let's just get dressed, one step at a time, Y/n" you told yourself trying to motivate your mind for the day it would have to face.

A hot shower can fix a lot, but nothing shocks your system into being alert like freezing cold water rinsing away the haze of a night of tortured sleep.

Dressed, you sit before the TV watching the news. "So they're not mentioning names yet, but have given up that they have a suspect in mind." you sigh, "small favors I guess."

"Not that it'll stop Jason or change his mind." you thought.

A knock came to your door.

The house was a mess, between Wayne's duffles bags, the floor pillow, and an unmade rollout bed. You try not to think about the state of your kitchen as you gorged on every junk food item you owned for breakfast.

Nonetheless, you open the door.

"Nancy?"

She stood at your door, peering at you with eyes that had seen about as much sleep as your own. "Yeah, hi. um, the police are investigating the area where you found Fred this morning. Powell wants to ask us some more questions, and I figured maybe you needed a ride." Nancy explained, holding up her car keys.

"It also seemed like it would be better not to hearing it from them that you needed to go back to that place in the road, only to be grilled like patty and possibly annoyed." she added.

You crack a smile. "Starting to remember why we were almost friends?" Nancy asked, offering a smile herself.

"Maybe," you hum, "thanks," you grab your house keys hanging on the wall and follow Nancy out, locking up.

Eddie looked between Robin, Dustin and Steve; he hadn't been this level of lost since he learned about 'lady parts' in sex education, at least that was fun for a while.

"- mine was more human-flesh based and theirs was more, smoke-related. But, bottom line - collectively, I think we've got this." Robin rambled.

"We usually have this girl with supper powers, but those kinda went away so uh, -"

"We're technically more in an um...."

"a kind of a..."

Max listened to Robin and Steve struggle to find words as they tried their best to ease Eddie's mind as his expression mimicked that of a cat who'd unexpectably had water dumped onto it.

"Brainstorming phase." Max said, leaving Robin and Steve looking relieved.

"Ther-there's nothing to worry about, or anything." Dustin said. Eddie raised his brows, "then why is everyone falling over their words." Eddie thought, box of honeycombs hugged to his chest. Behind it, a frog peering over the opening with a fixed smile. It wasn't his frog, he'd gotten the bad news of his trailer being locked down, but the group pulled together to buy him a little frog they'd found in the thrift store.

Sirens echoed loudly, tearing down the nearbye road. "Shit" Eddie whispered. "get under the tarp." Robin urged as the little group headed for the windows.

Your stomach purged itself, as it caught a glimpse of Fred's uncovered body. Taking a few deep breaths at the roadside before loosing the rest of what you'd eaten that morning. Chief Powell sighed and decided it would be better if he came to you.

"Why is he still just out here, like, like that?" you asked, accepting the paper towel offered by Chief Powell. "Can't be moved until forensics have properly investigated the scene, then we take it to the coroner's." Powell explained.

You spit a few more times before standing up.

"You ok?" Powell asked. "Everyone keeps asking that, and I think the answers always obvious." your words crackle out dryly.

"Well, so, you say you heard a crackling sound and a thud before seeing Fred like this?" Powell asked.

"mhm, It was loud. I was pretty far away at the time. I didn't see a person. Not in the trees or, or running away. But when I got to Fred, he was still warm and the blood a-around his eyes was....fresh." You could feel your stomach start to bubble again.

"But there was no one there, no one around. Nobody's that fast....nobody." you whispered.

"Maybe it was just too dark to see, maybe they had on black. Like a black jacket." Powell pushed. Your eyes thin as you scowl, "What, like a black leather jacket?" You snapped.

"Easy, just doing my job." Powell stated calmly.

"I....right." you whisper. "We don't know, ok. That's why there's no name in the media, yet. For now, I'm on your boyfriend's-"

"Ex-Boyfriend" you correct in a whisper.

"- side. Ok?" Powell asked.

He then spoke with extreme caution, "Now I have to ask what's coming next. I need you to understand that going in."

You give a nod of your head, but your defenses raised all the same. "What were you doing last night before finding Fred? Can anyone place you with them?" Powell asked.

A cold sweat swept across your palms and forehead, and Powell could see the urge to rage in your eyes. "I have to ask these questions." He warns again. It doesn't help, but you try to understand.

"I was with Nancy and Wayne, and then I was talking to some visitors in the woods. Three of." You said.

"Visitors?" Powell asked.

"Yeah, they're stranded in Hawkins because their van is totaled. Harvey down at Thatcher's is currently trying to figure out how to work on it. I'd seen the guy before. Rude lanky s.o.b was trying my patience in front of Barry's Big Buy." You explain.

"And did they seem suspicious at all?" Powell asked.

You remembered the gun Mick carried, and the bullet dents in the van. "But the fact is you don't know." You think to yourself. You give a simple shake of your head. "No, nothing other than they were from the city, for sure. And I mean, they're punks, so...to you and every other bland Hawkins denizen, probably looked a little 'spooky' but they weren't bad, offered to help me look for Eddie."

Powell crossed his arms, "they offered to help you?" He asked.

You nodded, "You know, often the suspect will be the closest one to the investigation." He said. "Then looks like you, me, Wayne and Nancy need to be at the top of the possible perp list, don't you think?" the hollow irony of your words nearly echoed.

"I'm just trying to help you help Eddie." Powell said.

"Yeah? Then find him." You shot, "find him. And give him a chance when you do."

You sigh, "can I go now? It's day two which means, I need to make flyers." your words sound small and Powell caves, "alright, you're free to go." He said, "I can have Callahan give you a ride."

After saying goodbye to Nancy, you begrudgingly go with Officer Callahan.

"Actually, Callahan can you drop me off at a friend's place instead?" You ask during the car ride.

Jeff, Gareth and Nick rushed out of Jeff's garage the moment you stepped out of the police car. "What did you do?" Gareth asked quickly, the boy's eyes following as Callahan rode away.

"Nothing." You sighed. "He just gave me a ride."

"Bullshit," Nick murmured. You groan, "alright, but if I tell you, not a word about it. It's going to hit the news anyway." you warned.

"We swear," said Jeff.

"Whoever got Chrissy," You whispered, "They got Fred Benson too. Last night, out on the road not far from Forest Hills."

The boy glanced at each other, "did you see it happen?" asked Gareth. You give a feeble shake of your head, "no. But by the time I got to him, who ever did it shouldn't have gotten far." You said.

"Maybe he got hit by a car or something?" Nick asked. "Since when is the road out there traveled at night?" asked Jeff.

"Something, sucked in his eyes, there was blood all over his face. Even if you can talk away the broken bones...the eyes. That's got to be a signature, right?" You asked them.

The three boy look at each other, they can hear your nerves on edge. "Have you every heard the legend of the Creel family?" Gareth whispered. "Yeah, the dad snapped and killed his wife and kids. That sort of thing happens all the time." You say with a shrug.

"And he's ancient now." You add.

"You know what else happens all the time, Copycat killers." Jeff reasons.

Your mouth snaps shut, "See, knew it was a bad idea to bring it up." Gareth muttered. "Look, Y/n, it's probably not that bad." Nick said quickly, "Yeah, you know how Eddie is. He's probably just lying low for a while, when things calm down he'll call and -"

Jeff's words faded as water leaked into your eyes. "I do know, and he would have been at my door, that night." Your voice shivered. "Come on, don't try. You're working yourself up." Nick urged gently. "And freaking me out... I'm trying not to think about what could have happened." Jeff muttered.

"We were just in the middle of practicing a set to get our minds off of things. You can stay and listen for a bit. Give yourself a rest." Gareth offered. "Yeah, you look terrible." Nick added.

"Gee, thanks Nick." You said, while Jeff wacked Nick's shoulder. "But if you guys don't mind, please? I won't bother you."

"Oh, of course, come on." Gareth and the boys lead you into the garage and find you a chair to sit down on. You listen to two of their songs and realize you've never heard them before.

"Are those new?" You ask, the guys grin with pride, "Yeah, Eddie wrote them recently." Jeff said. "Worked with Nick to get the sound down."

"It's good." You praise. "Got lots of practice in on them since he had all the extra time on his hands after the....well never mind..." Gareth caught himself, though a little too late.

"Man, you're just on a roll with those screw-ups, aren't you?" Nick asked him. "I'm not doing on purpose." Gareth sighed.

"Uh...guys" Jeff murmured as a car slowed before his house. "Shit, it's Carver." you murmur. The boys stopped playing and Gareth stood up from his drums, As a group of guy sporting the Hawkins' Tigers lettermans strolled up.

"Fellas, sorry to say, but you're early. Show don't start til next week." Gareth called with a sour smile. Corroded met the team at the garage entrance.

"Oh, was that music?" asked Andy.

"Please, Anderson, you wouldn't know music if it crawled up your craw and died." You said drawing his attention. "It's easy to talk shit when you're hiding behind others, isn't it?" Andy shot back.

"She/he isn't hiding from you the likes of you, Andy." Nick said.

Jason sighed, "We're just looking for Eddie Munson. He’s in the band, if you can all it that." he said. Instantly offended, the guy became as still as a wall, "What do you care?" Gareth asked with a tilt of his head.

"They can't fight." you thought, and if you were honest neither could you, not well. You could scrap, but not alone, and not against three. Usually if the boy had to fight, they had Eddie.

You stepped forward, trying to support the boys as best you could. You also knew, the tired mess that you were, wasn't all that intimidating. "Fuck off Jason. If they did know where he was, why the hell would they tell you." You lulled, through a flat gaze.

"Funny how you seem to be everywhere. Trying to get your alibis straight?" Jason questioned. "Are you? Won't look good, boyfriend on a rampage. You might come off as having anger issues." You hum, "tsk tsk tsk, you know they always look at the boyfriend with anger problems." you said, wagging for finger.

Gareth squinted at the figure hiding behind Jason. "Lucas?" he asked.

"I'd never hurt Chris." Jason growled. "If they don't believe me about Eddie, why would they believe you?" You asked him. "Because I'm not a freak who sells drugs, or some loser with a record." Jason barked at you.

"No, you're just a golden boy who's hard of hearing. I wouldn't be here if I knew where he was." You said.

"But this is exactly where you'd be if he was here." said Patrick.

"Lucas, what are you doing with these douchebags?" Gareth asked, ignoring the back and forth. Jason's eyes slowly widened as he turned to face Lucas, who seemed to be shrinking in place.

"You know these freaks, Sinclair?" He asked. You close your eyes and shake your head. Lucas looked about nervously, "They know my sister, they tried to recruit me to their club? Cult? It was after Y/n left. They were desperate." Lucas said. "You didn't, Lu." You thought.

"Lucas, what the hell?" Jeff asked with a sneer of disbelief. Gareth and Nick quietly seethed. "But look what side he's on," you study Lucas carefully. "He's scared, and he still thinks he can salvage this," You thought.

"We're just trying to find Eddie, man." Lucas said to Jeff.

"Only you're on the wrong team, Lu." You sighed, crossing your arms. "And you have eyes, don't you? He's not here." Gareth said with a scowl. Jason nodded, and though you saw it coming, his swing flew faster than your warning would have.

Gareth took the punch to the jaw. "Hey!" Jeff called, rushing to help, and Andy honed on him, Patrick closing in on Nick. "Carver!" You called out, as he took another swing. "Where is he!" Jason yelled, grabbing Gareth by the collar. Andy held Jeff back by the arms, and Nick stood glaring into Patrick's eyes in a stand-off.

"I said, where is he!"

"I don't know!"

"Carver, get bent and go home! Alright!" You shouted. Jason swings again, it's enough to make you cringe, "screw it-" you whispered, Gareth holds out his arm to you. "Y/n, no." he said. "Get off him!" Jeff shouted as Jason hooked his arm around Gareth's neck. Lucas watched the scuffle stunned.

Gareth is flung into his drum set and with a loud crash it fell apart. "Yep, 6th grade, Jimmy fucking Gatsby all over again." You thought, drawing in a breath and moving forward, "Hey Jason!" Patrick called out in warning, But your foot stomped down into Jason's shin, causing him to stumble.

With a growl he looked up at you glaring. "Leave him alone and call off your stupid goonies, Carver." You said. He stands and gives you a hard shove, with the lack of sleep and stress it's more than enough and you stumbled backward.

"Damn it." you curse yourself.

Jason, grabbing Gareth by the collar, mashed his hand under his sneaker, "Gonna be hard to play drums when your hands broken!" Jason raged as Gareth screamed.

"That's enough!" You shout.

"Dustin Henderson! He was calling around looking for Eddie! M-maybe he found him." Gareth caved. You and Lucas look equally mortified. Jason smirked and looked around, "see, that wasn't that hard, was it?" He asked, but Gareth looked as if he wanted to cry. "Now where can we find this, Dustin?" He asked.

You managed to push yourself off the ground and lunged, arms wrapping around Jason's neck. "Shit she/he leaped!" Andy called out. "Get off him, Carver, that's assault! Strike two against the angry boyfriend!" You yell tauntingly in his ear, hoping to cause pain, bust his ear drum something.

"Yeah, and how is this gonna look for you?" He asked, struggling against you. "Like I'm helping the kid whose hand you're trying to break. Go home, Carver, let the police handle it!" Jason stands up and Gareth cradled his hand.

Your arms are latched tight as he tries to throw you off. "Damn, she/he's like a leech or something!" Patrick cried out.

"Chrissy would hate this, and you know it. You know it." you whisper, trying to get under his skin, and it quickly gets you thrown to the ground. You can feel your back crack, and groan. "Y/n!" Lucas gasped. "betcha that hurt." Andy snickered.

"What the hell's going on here? A party?" A familiar voice chimed.

Tilting your head back to look up, you spotted two displeased faces. "Seems like it." Mick mused, dropping her cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

Jason and his boys turned to look towards the two new combers. "Can we come and play?" Axel asked, a vicious smile coming to his face as from his pocket with a spin for flare he pulled out a switch knife.

Jason's eyes fell on the blade, "more freaks?" Andy asked. "Don't piss these guys off, Andy, look at them." Patrick whispered. Axel held the group still while Mick helped you to your feet. You wince. "Easy. The jackass was right, that did look painful." She said.

"Beat it, go on, get lost." Axel said, glaring down at Jason. "Or do I need to teach you a lesson or two?" Axel asked, poking the H on Jason's jacket. "Come on, we're done here." Jason muttered.

Andy and Patrick were quick to follow, Andy pushing Jeff to the ground. "W-wait, wait! You leave Henderson alone!" You call after them. Lucas reluctantly follows, giving the four of you a guilty glance.

"Heard there was another death, Kali sent us looking for you." Mick explained. Kneeling, you check over Gareth, "let me see," you offer, but he just gazed down at his shoes. "It's ok, Gareth." You try your best to console him, but the guilt won't leave his eyes.

You sigh, letting Nick and Jeff take over. Standing, you turn to Mick, "who were the assholes?" Axel asked. "The first victim's boyfriend and his friends. They're looking for Eddie." You explain.

"Looks like we'd better find some wheels and get to looking then." said Axel. "At this rate, if the killer doesn't have him, it won't matter." He said. "They didn't have that, let's have a chat. Look about them." said Mick.

"I need to speak to Chief Powell and let him know Jason's gone mental." you sighed, but as you went to walk, a sharp pain shot through your back. "Whoa, maybe you ought to sit a minute first." called Nick.

"Maybe you're right." you whisper, heading back for the chair they'd given you earlier.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[theghostofashton]

Ohhh please that answer wasn't long!! And even if it actually was I am living for every word of it!! 💕💕 Anyway, any other fun facts that you consider "fic-canon" that didn't make it or got only a passing sentence? Or would Carlos always be TK's trainer for every role or would there be ones where TK hires another one? Would the paparazzi ever run fake/made up stories about them - say "work romances" -with castmate or client? Pls run free and post any fun fact you want!! 🥰

thank you for enabling me 💕💕

but actually, now that you mention it... your ask had me digging in the folder for this fic last night, and i have a bunch of deleted scenes. there were a lot of things i ended up cutting and some more ideas i had that i didn't get to incorporate (i didn't even think i'd make it to 60k so when i hit 63 i was like......we are not getting to 65 this needs to end lol)

a few of those:

this was something i alluded to a few times but never fully fleshed out, but tk has had some really bad experiences with trainers in the past. people that focused only on his physical appearance and not how anything made him feel, that gave him terrible diets and didn't correct his form when it wasn't good, just basically cared about him as a vessel to play a character rather than a person. he's surprised that carlos is so good and wants him to enjoy food and modifies things when he needs it because he hasn't ever really had that before, so for that reason he'd probably not be comfortable with anyone else. i can see carlos learning things he's not experienced in to continue training him. it may not be the same as getting an expert, but tk's mindset post-fic is to prioritize his comfort and safety too, not just run himself into the ground and stay miserable for every project.

there were going to be some more conversations about tk's fall from grace, how he felt about it, and i deleted a lot of them because they felt too preachy lol. this fic kinda felt like me getting up on my soapbox and i figured there was only so much people could take of that.

there's this scene i have of carlos googling tk that got deleted because i couldn't get it quite right. it was going to include some of the terrible headlines about him but also his only statement before going to rehab five years prior, and the tribute he posted to gwyn after her passing. i spent so long rewording it but couldn't get the pr vibe i was after so i scrapped it.

there would definitely be dumb gossip stories about workplace romances, but i feel like they wouldn't be a huge deal, especially after everything. tmz would be tmz, but i think his interview at the end of the last chapter would spark a lot of discussions about the ways that celebrities are treated, and how the media feeds into it. i feel like marie and a bunch of other people who supported him through everything would create some kind of hashtag and movement online that would blow up. i can see marie getting into advocacy work and tk partnering with her on some things to talk about addiction and dispel some of the myths/misconceptions.

i had another idea for a scene where marjan convinces tk to be on her instagram, like in some of her stories and stuff, and his hesitance sparks some more stuff about the way social media was used to hurt him back when everything was happening (hateful hashtags trending and constant angry dms). it was going to end with him changing the way he uses social media too, not allowing strangers so much access into his life, and keeping himself away from things that could be triggering.

there's a throwaway line about the opportunities tk lost that was supposed to be expanded into something about him working on a screenplay of his own. he was at the 'shopping it around to different directors' phase when everything went down. i can see him coming back to writing a couple years in the future. i can absolutely see him getting more into writing and kind of balancing the two, so he's not throwing everything into acting and letting it control his life anymore.

oh, and the movie does very well. tk's performance is highly praised, and while it doesn't blow up or get nominated for a ton of awards, it's seen as a brilliant way for him to dip his toe back into the industry. he doesn't have too much trouble booking roles afterward.

[anyways-wonderwall]

Album of the Week #48

In My Defense

(2019)

by Iggy Azalea

Overall Rating: 2.5/10

TL;DR: I gotta stop putting joke albums on the ‘to review’ list

(I don't like the font but other than that this album cover is pretty good! mysterious and edgy 7/10)

Overall Thoughts

Now this hurts to write, but I went through a pretty big Iggy Azalea phase in middle school. “Fancy” had just come out, I was at the age when swearing was the coolest thing you could do, and seeing Iggy twerk on stage made me feel like I was a grown up. While reviewing this album I went back and listened to some of her early hits, just to make sure younger me wasn’t completely deaf because god is this album terrible. 

I feel like most people reading this wasn’t expecting the album to be a masterpiece but I had hope! In her early songs the writing is pretty good, the backing track is good enough to dance along to, and she has a rags to riches story. This album falls into that ‘I’m rich, I’m hot, you’re a hater because you’re jealous’ which is fine for like, a song or two. Twelve is far beyond where I would want to tap out. 

Most of the backing tracks here sound terribly empty and confused (“Hoemita,” “Freak of the Week”) and many of them feature this terrible sound that makes it seem like your speakers have peaked. Why the hell would you do that, I literally cannot think of a single reason. It is horribly annoying, drowns out the vocals, makes me think my headphones are broken, and just makes the song unlistenable (“Clap Back,” “Hoemita,” “Big Bag,” “Freak of the Week”).

The writing also leaves a lot to be desired (to put it nicely). She constantly brags about being the first to do what she does (“Thanks I Get”) when she’s just factually not?? Like sorry Iggy but not a single person is going to believe you there. She constantly talks about how what she is doing is unique when she’s offering nothing new in a single song she does. The best sounding parts of her songs are when she repeats the same line 20 times because familiarity makes your brain like anything. The only songs with a decent flow and track are “Commes Des Garcons” and “Just Wanna” with the second sounding super similar to “Her” by Megan Thee Stallion which came out earlier this year. 

To finish this off I just wanna share some of my favorite lines, which is really the only gratifying part of reviewing albums like this. 

“Hoemita” features the line (with no punchline or build up) “turn this beat to a diabetic”. I have been analyzing this for days and still cannot figure out what it means, someone please help me out.

“Started” has “you fronting like breasts” which yes Iggy, breasts are in the front of your body

“Commes Des Garcons” has “whenever I post a pic they go nuts like semen” which honestly goes really hard

And last but not least “Pussy Pop” has the wonderful line “got green like luigi.” Thank you for defending my man Iggy, he is always stuck living in his brother’s shadow.

Final Thoughts

Just uhhh, don’t listen to this. If you like rap maybe give the two I thought were decent a shot and if you don’t like those you definitely won’t like any others. Also why does Iggy keep saying she’s gonna nut?? Is that anatomically correct?? This album leaves me with more questions than answers.

[seungminsbaldspot]

Christmas with Seungmin

Pairing: Seungmin x reader 

Synopsis:  Seungmin wants to make this the perfect Christmas but everything he does to decorate or plan goes terribly wrong

Spoiler: "I've tried so hard this year. To make everything perfect you know? But everything just... messes up."

Word Count: 1904 words

Genre:  fluff

Warnings: no pronouns are used, no mentions of whether or not seungmin is an idol here but you can imagine he is or isn’t, cursing, established relationship(you share a house with him)

Note: my very first Christmas special, i hope you all enjoy it

December 1st: Twas the first day of December, and your boyfriend was eager to set up the Christmas tree. He was pulling all of the decorations out of closets and pulling boxes out of the attic. “Min, I didn’t even know you kept decorations up there.” He shrugged, “I keep lots of secrets from you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. You laugh. “Sure Minnie” 

While Seungmin is pulling out the tree and putting it together, you are making dinner, as a thank you to Seungmin for all of his hard work. He was the perfect boyfriend. He knows how to treat you, and you know how to treat him. You two are the perfect couple. Seungmin always goes all out for holidays and birthdays, although his friends have informed you that before you came along, he was never into celebrating this much. He only did it because you liked to go all out. 

While in the kitchen, you hear a crash inside the living room. Thinking the worst, you rush into the living room, finding Seungmin squatting over something. Seungmin stands up and frowns, “Oh shoot. I loved that ornament.” It was a glass ornament that had the date that he asked you to be his partner You patted him on the shoulder, “No worry Minnie! I can get another made.” You say reassuring the sad guy frowning in front of you. He shrugged, “I guess, but it won’t ever be the same.” You smiled, “No, but it will have the same exact date on it and it will mean the exact same.” You say, trying to comfort him. He begins to say something, but then you hear your water boiling over, “Oh Shit!” You say, running off back into the kitchen. Seungmin sighs and gets the broom. He supposes that decorating the tree can wait for another night. 

December 9th: After the long work week, Seungmin and You finally put up some more decorations around your house. Seungmin digs out garlands and fairy lights to decorate some shelves with. You continued decorating the tree when Seungmin tried to decorate it, he broke a glass ornament and refused to touch it again, in fear of breaking another precious ornament even though you had told him that it was alright and that you could replace the ornament. 

Seungmin takes the garland and fairy lights and hangs them on a shelf in the living room. After putting one end of the garland on a hook, and moving to the other side to drape the garland, the other side of the garland fell off of the hook. Seungmin groans loudly, causing you to look away from your tree-decorating duties. 

"Everything alright, Seungmin?" you ask, putting down the ornament you were about to hang on the tree. Seungmin looks a bit frustrated but manages a sheepish smile. "Just the garland. Doesn't wanna stay on the hook." You walk over to him, trying to hide a smile. "Let me give you a hand." 

The two of you struggled with the garland for about thirty minutes. Each time you thought the garland was stay put, it would fall. “I’m one more fall of this garland to super gluing it to the shelf.” You laughed, “How about hot glue? Hot glue will come off and not damage our expensive ass shelves.” He looked at you weirdly, “Hey, look I had a Pokemon phase where I hot-glued Pokemon cards to my wall.” Seungmin side-eyes you but nods. “Weirdo.” He whispers under his breath, “But I’ll go get the hot glue.” 

December 16th: Now that your shared house with Seungmin was finally decorated up to Seungmin’s standards, as he is surprisingly picky about Christmas decor, you could spend this weekend celebrating the upcoming holidays. 

Seungmin and You have had this tradition that every weekend before Christmas, the two of you would have a bake-off. Sometimes you won, sometimes Seungmins won. But what can you say, you both enjoyed shoving cookies, cupcakes, and cakes into your mouths. This year, Seungmin wanted to only do cookies, as last year, Your home-baked Lemon cakes were to die for and Seungmin really wanted to win this year. Seungmin decided to bribe you with a whole year of free Seungmin hugs and kisses. You laughed at his bargaining but accepted. You could never say no to free Seungmin Hugs and Kisses for a whole year! 

“Okay, so I’m going to do classic chocolate chip cookies.” Seungmin states, One of the rules is that the two of you must make two different flavors. You nod, knowing exactly what flavor you are going to bake, (enter any flavor here, other than chocolate chip).

Seungmins pulls out the flour, sugar and salt, While you head to the fridge for the milk and eggs. The two of you work around each other, adding all of the ingredients to make the perfect batch of cookies.

You finish with your cookie batter before Seungmin, so you roll out the batter and create Christmas cutouts of the batter. Then you place the cutouts onto a baking sheet and gently place them into the oven. "Done!" You yell out. Seungmin scoffs, "Just because you put yours in the oven first, does not mean that your cookies will taste better than mine." He says, still needing the dough. You shrug, "Whatever you say, Min"

When you smell your cookies in the living room, you know that your cookies are done baking. You walk into the kitchen to find Seungmin just now placing his cookies onto a baking sheet. "Damn Minnie, My cookies are done and yours are just now on the baking sheet?" You tease, but Seungmin ignores you. "Don't worry little cookies, You will win this battle." He whispers to the dough, causing you to laugh.

You carefully take your cookies out of the oven and place them onto the cooling rack. Then you watch Seungmin place his baking sheet with his precious cookies in the oven. He takes off his oven mitts and wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you on the cheek. "Wanna watch a movie?" You nod, "As long as it's Jim Carry's Grinch!" He smiles, "Of course, It's simply the best holiday movie to ever exist." He says, pulling you into the living room.

Halfway through the movie, Seungmin jerks up, "SHIT!" Seungmin yells, rushing into the kitchen, " Oh shit," Your eyes widen, "The cookies." With the smell of your previously baked cookies and the enjoyment of your favorite holiday movie playing, you had totally forgotten about the chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

The smell of burnt cookies and chocolate waves throughout the house when Seungmin opens the oven door. "Damnit Damnit." He says, quickly pulling out the baking sheet, with his oven mitts. He throws the baking sheet onto the cooling rack. Quickly taking the mitts off, he examines the cookies. It only took a glance for you to know that the cookies were brunt. "I guess I'm the winner this year too, huh?"

Seungmin looks at the burnt cookies and then back at you, a mix of disappointment and amusement on his face. "Alright, alright, you win again," he concedes, shaking his head with a smile. "But just wait until next year. I'll come up with a winning recipe that will blow your mind."

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around him. "You always say that, Min. But for now, I guess I'll enjoy the victory and those free hugs and kisses for the next year."

December 24th: For the night of Christmas, Seungmin planned a little Christmas date for this weekend last week, so of course Seungmin wants to pick your outfit.

“I think that you’ll look good in this.” He says, pulling out some random clothes. You shrug, “Sure, But if we’re going to be outside I would like to request a jacket please.” You joke, Seungmin’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, I guess I will pick out a jacket for you.” He rolls his eyes and walks to pick out a jacket, He pulls out one of those standard puffer jackets and everybody and their mother has. “Good Enough?” You laugh, “It’s perfect.” 

Seungmin never tells you where he’s taking you on dates. You never quite know if it’s because he is winging the whole night or if he actually wants it to be a surprise, But at this point in your relationship, you don’t mind. You loved Seungmin and trusted him 100%,so whatever he had in store for tonight was going to be amazing. 

The two of you arrive at this park, decorated with beautiful lights for the holiday season. “It’s so pretty out here.” You murmur, Seungmin takes your arm, almost pulling you to these lit-up archways on a path. The two of you walked under these beautiful archways, looking around at all of the different lights. 

After a while of exploring this beautiful park, You started to shiver. “Want some Hot Coco?” Seungmin asks, You nod, “Sounds delicious right now.” He nodded, leading you to an open area, “I heard this place has some of the best hot cocoa around.” He says, making you excited to try this wonderful hot cocoa. 

When you arrive at the vendor, the man is wearing an apologetic smile, “Sorry folks, I don’t have any more hot cocoa.” You smile at the man, “Awh, Well That’s alright.” You tell the man, Who is still uttering apologies. You look over at Seungmin, whose face is adorning a solemn expression. “Don’t worry, Minnie, We can make some at home!” You say, pulling on his arm, pulling him back to your car.

Back at your shared home, You put on some water to boil. Seungmin looks slumped over sitting on the couch. "What's wrong, Min?" He sighs, "Nothing really." You knew that it was more than nothing. But you didn't want to pressure Seungmin, so you will leave him be for the moment to change into some cute and comfy matching Christmas pajamas you had bought.

You take the matching pair and throw them in his lap when you walk by him in the living room. "Put these on, and by then we can have some hot cocoa!" You say. He takes the clothes and goes into your shared bedroom.

By the time he emerges, the water is boiling. "Hurry Min! The water is done boiling!" You say, rushing him to be by your side. You pull out two mugs and start to dip the hot coco powder in each. Then you start to pour the boiling water into the power. While pouring the water into Seungmin'smug, you feel arms around you, giving you a backhug.

"I'm sorry" Seungmin mumbles into your neck, You finish pouring and place the boiling water down. Then you turn around to face Seungmin. "Whatcha sorry for?" You ask, He hasn't done anything. "I've tried so hard this year. To make everything perfect you know? But everything just... messes up." Your eyes soften and you hug Seungmin, almost surprising him. "Min! You have made this Christmas one of the most memorable Christmases that I've ever had. You mean the world to me and just being here with me right now is making me so fucking happy. There is nothing in this world that you could do that would make me not want to love you Kim Seungmin."

"Even if I killed someone?" You laugh, "Depending on the person."

ughht this was so cute im going to rot, also the thing about the pokemon cards hot glued to the wall.. yeah I actually did that. and no the wall is not damaged.

also notes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

[caatws]

I wanted to say I think you have some of the most detailed and well thought out opinions of vol 3 that I have seen. You do a good job of not ignoring the good while also not pretending the movie was flawless. It's very refreshing.

I'm still working on all of my opinions of the movie and one thing I'm becoming more settled on is that the movie suffered from wanting to have its cake and eat it too. Gamora's death and the ways her past self can't easily fall back on what was got a lot of attention during some scenes. Then in other scenes her death was side stepped to point out that technically she's still here and not all is lost. This was used the most when it came to characters who weren't Peter. I certainly am no expert but I think there were better ways to connect those two points. There is a loss worth grieving and feelings that need to be worked through as a team even as they gradually embrace a new situation. That would have required more time be spent and story dedicated to that plot and easy or not I think that should have been done.

The same issue existed for the non existent exploration of how 5 years after the snap things would be really different. Not sure if you watched The Falcon and The Winter Soldier or Hawkeye but both those shows did a better job than vol 3 at not pretending nothing happened. The new Ant-man movie with all it's mess didn't pretend the snap was easy either. I love the guardians and I love the family theme but the family had been through the most difficult struggle ever and was disrupted in pretty hard hitting ways that there was no way to easily bounce back from. Most of them missed 5 years, Gamora was dead, others experienced the reality of what was essentially a post apocalyptic world. At the end Nebula got her sister back in a way where her sister basically lost some of their most crucial bonding years and she couldn't share with anyone she was keeping up with her. There was so much about all of this that needed exploration. I did appreciate Peter's mental state was terrible and the film didn't joke around about it. But that was the only sign IW or EG had taken place for these characters. It made no sense. In fact the movie played vague about Gamora experiencing Endgame and that was the whole plot around which she returned.

AHHH THANK YOU ANON 🫶🏼😭 i do still love this franchise and all these characters with all my heart, so i want to still give credit where credit is due when i can! (i also am thinking of rewatching vol 3 for the first time this weekend since my initial watch like 2 weeks ago, and i'm eager to better see the forest for the trees and pay less attention to the gamora situation and more attention to everything else in the film, bc there were some things that i did rly like!!!)

re: the ways gamora's death was handled differently scene to scene, i agree!!! i also think a way that these differing reactions between the characters could've been better connected is by having that be a more prominent conflict between the characters from start to finish. like it's already kinda established at the beginning that peter grieving is disrupting the team, but i feel like we could've done more with that throughout the film. and rather than have it be peter vs everyone else, it would've been interesting to see how each character individually may have been at different points in their grief journey. but i understand that a rocket backstory-centric film is not gonna allow much room for That much exploration between the characters

also yeah the way post-endgame content has been handling the snap has been one of my biggest criticisms of phases 4 and 5 so far. i did watch tfatws and hawkeye and you're right that those are the only shows that have rly addressed things (and of course quantumania touched on it a fair amount) - and tbh, hawkeye is the only phase 4 project that i felt like i came away from it with a genuinely better understanding of the snap with it showing yelena's pov of getting snapped and then coming back. we definitely needed something to that emotional extent for gotg at some point, whether it be here or the holiday special - something that rly showed how much the snap disrupted their lives and fucked up both those who were snapped and those who were just stuck living in the apocalypse for 5 years. (i also would've loved to see more of how it affected rocket especially, considering his arc in vol 2)

at this point, now that we have phases 4 and some of 5, to me it almost feels like the snap was done all wrong lol. like what was the point of making it 5 years long if it we weren't gonna get to see the actual full impact of it on the characters, especially the ones who lived through the 5 years? the only characters' experiences we rly got to see in depth were the core 6 avengers in endgame...meanwhile, rocket was left as the SOLE member of his team (bc nebula wasn't even technically a guardian yet in 2018) and nebula lost her sister in a super traumatic way. LIKE ARE ROCKET AND NEBULA OKAY LMAO???

similarly, if the mcu wasn't ready to actually handle the implications and the fallout of the circumstances of gamora's death, it shouldn't have done it lmao. like don't dish what you can't take. don't make huge universe-altering and character-devastating story moves if you're not even going to give them the depth they deserve