#accidentally crashing your own funeral

[dragonofthedepths]

YOU WEAR BLACK TO FUNERALS 19.5.22

Ingo is dropped back into his own time and unknowingly wanders into his own funeral. Everyone keeps stopping him and offering their condolences, saying how sorry they are for his loss, and Ingo is getting increasingly confused.

But, well...

While Ingo's been gone Emmet has not been coping well, stress and grief piling up and pulling at the coners of his lips until it is no longer uncommon to see the younger Subway Boss frowning anymore. And Ingo has been practicing volume control while in Hisui, in order to avoid causing avalanches, or alerting wild pokémon… or just plain scaring the living daylights out of his clanmates.

Honestly everyone just assumed Emmet's idea of black formalwear is a black version of his subway uniform…

No one realizes what's going on until Elesa catches Ingo trying to sneak out and drags him back to a quite room to prepare, because she opens the door to find Emmet already inside.

Day (342/100) of my #infinitedaysofwriting @the-wip-project

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies (but better written and 5 years late)

chapter 1: surely the macarena has not been playing for the last 2 minutes without me noticing

words cannot even begin to describe how excited about this i am lets GO :D

___

words: 2800

edited: yes !!

ship: well its either going to be sprace or ralbert and you're all along for the ride

warnings: character death but the death is not real, minor injuries, mentions of the famed walgreens au, deep dish pizza slander, emotionally stubborn race

tags: @jack-kellys @ainti-pretty @boygirlctommy @jack-whatsyourangle @getchapapes @sun-kissed-star (let me know if you want on or off the tag list !!!)

again, big thank yous to katya for bullying me into writing this and my sister for beta-ing and providing chapter titles that have nothing to do with the story

read it on ao3!!

___

Even before Albert crashed his own funeral, Race was having a bad day. 

For starters, there had been the paperwork. Always so much paperwork when someone died during a mission. And for what? This was the FBI for fucks sake, there were interns who could be doing this, not him, one of the best field agents in the country.

And there had been the eulogy. What even was a good eulogy these days? A heartfelt poem? A quote from The Fault in Our Stars? A melancholy tiktok dance? Race should have probably known the answer at this point, given that he had written a grand total of seven for Albert, only one and a half of which he had delivered. 

Because that was the thing about Albert. He couldn't quite stay dead. 

It was the one thing that drove Race absolutely crazy about his best friend. Well, maybe not the one thing. He did have a particularly dreadful habit of chewing all of Race’s pens. But anyway. Race felt bad every time he got the dreaded phone call and shrugged Albert’s death off. For all he knew it could be real this time and he was going to go up in front of his best friend’s casket to renegade while telling everyone what an idiot he had been. But then again. This was his eighth eulogy.  

Jack, the newbie field agent that Race and Albert were supposed to be training, did not find Race’s lack of sadness even remotely acceptable. But then again, that was probably Race’s fault for not telling Jack that Albert didn’t like to stay dead. 

“I still can’t fucking believe you,” Jack muttered, taking half a glance in Race’s direction as he merged into the exit lane. “Your best friend is fucking dead, you’re going to his fucking funeral, your eulogy is a fucking tiktok dance, and you're playing a fucking fish game.” 

In the passenger seat, Race shrugged. “What? I have to feed them or they get sad. And I never actually said I was going to do the renegade.”

“I swear to fucking God Race,” Jack groaned, tears brimming in his eyes. The kid had been crying for the last week, Race was thoroughly impressed that he hadn’t run out of tears by now. “He was basically your brother. At least show some respect.”

Race rolled his eyes. “He’s not my fucking brother. Hell knows I have plenty of those.”

“You know, I’m glad he’s not here to see this,” Jack spat. “If he knew this was what his best friend was really like he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. Fucking sick of you to do this.”

Race continued feeding his fish. They may be silly, but least they weren’t yelling at him. 

“I’m going to request a placement change after today, I can’t work with someone who doesn’t even give half of a shit about th-”

Thankfully he was cut off by Race’s phone ringing. 

Not so thankfully, it was none other than Race’s arch nemesis on the other end. 

“Racetrack Higgins.” 

“Davey Jacobs.” Head of the NYC Branch of the FBI, resident asshole and general stick in the mud. He had had it out for Race and Albert since they had been in training and accidentally almost blew up his prized weapons lab.

“I need you and Dasilva to get your asses into my office ASAP.” 

“Mmm, see, that might be a bit of a problem.” Race ran his fingers through his hair. “Ain’t nobody tell you that Albert’s dead?” 

“Ain’t nobody tell you that I don't care?” Jacobs said, mimicking Race’s accent. “Just because one of you dies doesn’t mean crime stops.”

Race rolled his eyes as Jack pulled up in front of the church. “Ah Davey, good to know despite all your years of work, you still don’t have an ounce of sympathy.”

“You little-”

“And I assume you want me to drive from Chicago to New York cause your ass is too cheap to purchase a plane ticket?” 

“If you don’t watch your tongue I’ll have you fired in two minutes flat.” 

Race laughed. “My ass will be in your office after my ass goes to my partner's funeral, capishe?” Race threw his phone on the floor and rubbed his temples. He envied Jacobs’s ability to give out headaches like candy. Albert better be fucking alive cause there was no way he was going to New York City by himself. 

Jack pulled the key out of the ignition and crossed his arms, staring straight forward. “What was that about?”

“Someone who wanted to talk to me and Albert.” 

Jack said nothing. 

Race fiddled with the edge of his shirt. Maybe he should say something. But what if Albert was dead? Then he would have gotten Jack’s hopes up too and then Jack would really never forgive him. 

“I…I know you’re upset with me,” Race began lamely. 

Jack snorted. 

“But consider letting me finish your field training?” Race asked. “I know you still got a little ways to go and you got every right to be mad at me but you understand a computer better than I ever will and you’ve been really good backup and-”

“I’ll think about it okay?” Jack interrupted. 

Race nodded, staring at his phone on the floor. Boy he sure hoped that Albert was still alive. He did not want this argument to come back and bite him in the ass later. 

“Here.” Jack threw a crumpled bow tie at Race. “Put this on.”

“Why?”

“Because even though you may not be acting like it, we are still going to a funeral and you should at least look presentable.” 

“Yeah,” Race rolled his eyes but still reluctantly tied the bow tie around his neck. It looked ridiculous with his t-shirt but he didn’t feel like upsetting Jack any more. “Cause this is gonna make all the difference.”

“Just shut up and get out of the car,” Jack muttered. “We’re already almost late.”

•••

The funeral itself was pitiful. 

Aside from himself and Jack, the only other people were a handful of elderly women who looked mildly annoyed that their daily rosary praying had been interrupted by the untimely death of a twenty six year old. Race had not held a rosary since he was seventeen, but he was fairly certain one of the ladies was holding it upside down. 

And out of all the seven people in the disproportionately massive church, including the priest, Jack was the only one who seemed like he wanted to be there. 

Though, the lack of government officials and the fact that it was in a hole in the wall church in the middle of Chicago was a good sign. Perhaps Race wouldn’t have to renegade after all. 

Twelve o’clock came and went and no one else entered the church. In fact, a few of the old ladies went as far as to inch further towards the door, hoping that they would be able to sneak out. Race did not blame them. 

Whether the priest was waiting for more people to turn up or for the actual casket to make an appearance was hard to say. 

“Aren’t there supposed to be government officials here because he died in the line of duty?” Jack whispered. Still, it managed to echo around the church. 

Race winced at his lack of discretion. “We forfeited our rights to a fancy funeral when we almost blew up a weapons lab.” It was not the truth, but Jack did not need to know that five years ago Albert had gotten “blown up” and there was a full FBI sponsored funeral done for him, only for him to appear in a tiny hospital in the middle of Arkansas three days later. After that the FBI refused to give Albert a full funeral unless there was a body due to budget cuts. But that was irrelevant. 

Jack’s face fell. “Albert always said that he would tell me that story.” 

“He was never going to tell you that story.” 

“Race,” Jack’s voice was firm. “Would you stop-”

“Thank you for gathering here today in the memory of Albert Dasilva,” the priest began. “Unfortunately the hearse seems to have gotten stuck in traffic and in the interest of making sure our later services start on time, we will just do an abbreviated service with no eulogies when it arrives momentarily. Unless anyone has any objections?” 

Jack tries to raise his hand but Race held his arms down. Hearses didn’t just get stuck in traffic. This had Albert’s handiwork written all over it. The priest gave them a mildly amused look but ultimately said nothing. 

Jack squirmed out of Race’s grip. “Don’t touch me, Race.”

“Jack I-“

“I said don’t fucking touch me, Antonio.” 

Race grit his teeth. He already had to see Jacobs later today and he didn’t want a lecture from him on how you’re not supposed to deck the trainees at fake funeral services. How had Jack even known his name? 

Moments later the door of the church slammed open and a ridiculously shiny gold casket was wheeled in. Race barely glanced at it. Maybe he should have told Jack. He liked the kid. This was the first trainee he and Albert had been given and he wanted to do a good job, be to Jack what Blink and Mush had been to him. 

Albert would know how to fix this. 

Race really hoped that he was outside.

He spent the rest of the hilariously brief service running through every possible outcome of the situation. At worst, Albert was indeed dead and Jack would abandon him. At best, Albert was not dead as Jack would forgive him for the misunderstanding easily. And in between there were seventy three other situations. 

Something pointy jabbed Race in the ribs and he looked up to see Jack standing and glaring down at him. Fuck, the processional had already started. 

Race wandered out of the church behind Jack in a daze. He fought down nausea as he trudged, absently wrapping and unwrapping his fingers in the chain around his neck. 

The sun was blinding. Race squinted through it, trying to scan the parking lot for a familiar blob of red hair, but Jack jumped in front of him. 

“Here “ Jack threw the keys to the truck at Race. “I’m done. I’m not getting back in that car with you after whatever just happened in that church. I can’t work with someone who can’t show an ounce of emotion when their best friend dies. You’re a fucking asshole, Race. An absolute, grade A premium-“

“Whoa there cowboy, I don’t condone arguing at my funeral.” 

Jack jumped three feet in the air at the sound of Albert’s voice. A weight that Race hadn’t felt before lifted off of his chest at the sight of his best friend. 

“Al,” he breathed a sigh of relief and opened his arms to hug Albert. 

“Oi! Careful!” Albert warned. “I’m only mostly in one piece.”

“You can never come back to me in perfect working condition can you?” Race felt his stress evaporating as he gently hugged Albert to his chest. He looked like shit and smelled worse “What happened this time?” 

“I don't know, I woke up in some fucking Canadian National Park to a moose trying to eat my socks and my shoulder was dislocated. I scared the park ranger shitless then had to hitch hike to the border and almost got stuck there cause they thought my FBI card was fake.”

“...Did the moose dislocate your shoulder?” Race stepped back to examine Albert. Sure enough, he had sloppily tied a shirt around his left shoulder to immobilize it. It didn't look completely correct but Race supposed he should be happy that Albert wasn’t in a hospital. Or even worse, moose food. 

Albert half shrugged. “Hell if I know Racer.”

Race tilted his head. “Well then how-”

“Dude what the fuck is wrong with Jack?” 

Race turned to see Jack opening and closing his mouth like a fish, eyebrows raised so high they were nearly touching his cornrows. 

“Um-”

Albert crossed his arms. “You didn’t tell him, did you.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. 

Race glued his lips together. He’d known Albert for long enough to know that it was better to just say nothing. 

“Fucking christ, Antonio.” Albert half kicked him and walked over towards Jack, shooting Race a We’ll Be Talking About This Later Look. 

“Hey Jackie-boy, good to see you buddy,” Albert said in the same voice that people use to talk to small children or scared animals. 

“Everyone said you were dead,” Jack muttered, eyes wide. 

“Who is everyone?”

“Race,” Jack lifted his eyes from Albert momentarily to glare at Race, “The priest, the guy who called Race, I don’t know.”

“Alright buddy,” Albert said. “Lesson one-” “Lesson one is never leave the house without a weapon,” Jack interrupted.

Albert sighed. “Fine then, lesson two-”

“Is always scan your surroundings.” Jack nearly cracked a smile at Albert’s annoyed facial expression. “You’re up to lesson fifty three.” 

“Fine. Lesson fifty three. Never believe anyone is dead until you see a body.” 

Jack nodded. “I think that’ll be an easy one to remember.”

“Good.” Albert opened his arm. “Now bring it in buddy.”

Jack flew into Albert’s embrace. A distinct sinking feeling started in Race’s stomach when he saw Jack’s shoulders shaking. 

“Everyone always leaves.” Jack’s words were muffled but Race could still hear them. “I’m so glad that you didn’t.” 

Albert laughed but Race could see the strain in his eyes. “This is like the fourth-”

“Eighth,” Race whispered.

“Eighth time this has happened. I don’t think that I am going anywhere anytime soon.”

Jack nodded into Albert’s shirt and gave him one more light squeeze, which Albert tried and failed not to wince at before pulling away. 

“Now that we got that settled,” Albert said, turning to Race. “I would love nothing more than to go to Walgreens and get some advil, the good cold medicine because Canada’s fucking freezing and I think it’s going to catch up to me soon and a real sling, some mediocre deep dish pizza and to go back to the safe house and sleep for three days.”

“Yes to the first two but you’re going to have to sleep in the car,” Race said.

Albert dropped his head back and groaned. “Don’t tell me they reassigned us already, I only just came back to life.”

“Mmmm no its far worse.” Race placed his hand on Albert’s good shoulder. “Jacobs wants us in his office.” Albert blinked once, twice, three times before giving in. “FUCK.”

“Yeah,” Race said. There was nothing else to say about that.

“Don’t tell me he wants us there tomorrow.” 

“He wanted us there today. “Who the hell is Jacobs?”

“Not now Jack,” Race and Albert said at the same time. 

“And we have to drive?” Albert asked. “And we have to drive.” Race confirmed. 

“Well fuck me sideways with a fucking spork.” Albert groaned again for good measure. “Doesn’t he think I’m dead?” 

“This is Davey Jacobs,” Race said. “Death means nothing to him.” 

“Is no one going to tell me who this guy is?” Jack asked again, louder this time. 

“Jackie,” Albert said, “When we’re on hour thirteen of this drive you’re going to be regretting asking that question.” 

“He can’t be that bad.” “He is,” Race said. 

“You owe me at least a whole pizza for this,” Albert said, jabbing Race in the chest with his finger. “With extra meat.”

“I didn’t expect anything less,” Race smiled. Sure he was not happy they had to go deal with whatever crap Jacobs was going to throw at him, but at least he had his best friend back.

“And another one when we get to the city!” He yelled over his shoulder as he followed Jack to the car. “I’ve missed my 99 cent pizza.” Race rolled his eyes. “You can literally get it for free cause Vinny loves you.”

“Wait, we’re going to New York City?” Jack asked

“I thought you wanted a placement change?” Race said, crossing his arms. 

“I- Well- I guess I-“

“Look buddy,” Albert said. “Race is shit at communicating. He will never admit it, but he is. But you can’t blame him for not wanting to get your hopes up. This is a hard field to be in, nothing is guaranteed and nothing is ever as it seems. That being said, we would love to have you on whatever Jacobs has planned for us cause I can guarantee you it is going to be one absolute hell of a ride. And even though Race won’t admit it, he likes having you around.” 

“I never said I didn’t,” Race muttered. 

Jack considered. “I’ll come, but only mostly because my best friend is training in New York. I’m still kinda pissed at Race.”

“Welcome to the club, buddy,” Albert laughed, giving Jack a fist bump. 

Race just rolled his eyes. It was pointless to argue at this point. 

“This better be a relaxing ride, Race,” Albert said, ignoring Jack. “I want no shenanigans.”

“I make no promises.”

___

AHHH WE ARE SO BACK BABY !!!

stay tuned to see the boys entering the city :O

[daughterofyourdarklord]

What happens after the trial then? Is Delphini lost?

Delphini won’t stop screaming. They move her to an impossibly bright room, her magic violent and unpredictable. She thinks the monsters are trying to talk to her but she can hardly hear them, opting to hide instead. She ducks underneath the small cot for what feels like hours. Finally someone familiar comes: “Why wasn’t I informed of this immediately!?” It’s a voice she recognizes. “The way the ministry is vilifying upstanding Wizarding Houses has gotten completely out of hand! The Wizengamot has fallen prey to a personal agenda! They’re targeting my fam-” She peeks out from beneath the metal bed frame, eyes eager to confirm what her ears already know. “- Delphini!” Her grandfather looks exhausted and relieved all at once.

Cygnus takes her back to the Black’s country estate immediately. It’s comforting, it’s familiar - it isn’t home. He stays with her until he doesn’t, explaining how he needs to go back to the Ministry. “To get mama, too? Is that where they took her, too?” If anyone - outside of her father, of course - can get mummy away from those evil wizards it’s Cygnus. Her grandfather’s face crashes when she explains what happened, he holds her tight and stays with her until she falls asleep. When Delphini wakes up it's Narcissa who is holding her. 

It three more nights until she sees her grandfather again. This time he is not alone, there is a witch with dark hair and grey eyes walking in behind him. Delphini’s heart leaps for a moment until she recognizes her other aunt. Walburga looks even more a wreck than grandfather. Delphini is hiding at the top of the stairs, listening as they fill Narcissa in - Auntie Cissa is crying. No one will tell Delphi anything and now they’re saying a lot of words she doesn’t understand. “What’s Azkaban?” She asks, blowing her cover as she shuffles down the steps clutching an emerald blanket.

Delphini spends a lot of time bouncing between Grimmauld and the country seat. She loves her Aunt Walburga, she adores her grandfather, she still misses her parents. “They’ll be back, it’s just going to take some time - be patient.” Delphini waits.

When Walburga brings her back to the estate she usually stays for a while. Delphini gets it - she doesn’t like being alone either. They’re out in the gardens looking for nifflers when Delphi finds a snake. She greets it happily, turning around to introduce it to her aunt who scolds her viciously: “No one can know you speaks to snakes Delphini Black!" No one can know about your parents! She means. Delphini hates it. Hates living in the shadow of the two people who aren’t even here anymore. Her eyes well with angry tears, running up to her rooms that still don’t feel like home before slamming the door. She just wanted to be friends with the stupid snake. 

Her magic is chaotic. It’s exhausts Cygnus and frustrates Walburga. Delphini can control this chaos far too well, is far too intentional with these “accidental” outbursts. The little witch doesn’t realize how abnormal it is, to be so well acquainted with magic so young. She is oblivious to the gifts her parents gave her - she carries much more than just their faces. 

“You just have to be patient, Delphini.” She is tired of being patient. 

Narcissa brings Draco over often. She’ll take Delphini out with them to events as well. "The children still need to be social." It’s boring. She’s not allowed to use magic in front of anyone else. The shadow grows.

Walburga dies when Delphini is six. She is a mess at the funeral, devastated beyond repair. She sobs loudly and it’s Narcissa that has to walk away with her - Lucius is staying with Draco, Cygnus is own brand of devastated. She brings Delphi back to Malfoy manor and tells her stories about Bella. Delphi sits with her head along her aunt’s shoulder and listens. “What about father, do you have any stories about him, too?” Her aunt has much less to say. 

Delphini is riddled with nightmares. She dreams of a dark cell, black figures closing in on her. Of a dark forest, one where she can't see any stars. Sometimes she hears them, nothing could ever make her forget the sound of their voices. She wakes up freezing cold every time.

“When?” She asks again, still not sure exactly what she is waiting for. “How much longer?” Soon, they all tell her. Soon. They’re all liars.

Cygnus dies when she is ten years old. He is not there when she has to move in with the Malfoys. He is not there when they read out his Will and Testament and inform Delphini that the ancestral home and all future assets will fall to her when she is of age. He is not there when her Hogwarts letter comes. He is not with her when she gets her first wand. He's not at the platform when she gets aboard the train. She hates him, hates him for leaving her. Her parents aren’t there either.  

Her Uncle slips her a book, it feels used, the leather soft and worn. She looks at him curiously, the Hogwarts Express whistling in the background, beckoning. “It was your Father’s.” He explains, walking with her towards the edge of the platform. “He’d want you to have it.” Delphini smiles at him, waving goodbye to her aunt and cousin before turning onto the train. 

Perhaps, her patience is finally paying off... 

[genshinimpactlife]

*breaks through your window* *trips and falls on my face* My friend told me about your blog and its wonderful, so get comfortable Ill be staying here for a while

Do you have any headcannons about a Child!reader who was pretty much adopted by zhongli?

Lets say child!reader is like one of those blue onis and their family fled to Liyue after staying in inazuma for so long. Surprise surprise on the way to Liyue their boat goes plop, everyone dies and child!reader is the only survivor who managed to get to liyue

Zhongli finds this smol child with blue marks and blue horns lying on the coast of liyue and mentally asks "Is anyone gonna adopt the blue child?" and not wait for an answer

(This was originally gonna be a normal shower thought but my mind said 'no add some more trauma' and there the backstory is sad )

Zhongli with Child Oni Reader

You remembered everything about that horrible day. The sound of the storm raging outside, the boat rocking wildly back and forth.

You could hear his mother and father yelling at each other, but once you started crying, they stopped, your mother holding you to calm him.

You had managed to fall asleep but awoke just as a wave taller than the boat crashed into your boat. It ripped the ship in half, and you were separated from your mother, who had been holding you since you were upset.

You managed to grab onto a floating piece of wood and passed out while floating on it, ending up somewhere on Liyue's coast.

Zhongli happened to see the small Oni as he was out on his morning walk, and once he made sure you were breathing, he tried to find your parents. But, to no avail, he carried the young child back to his house.

You were wary of Zhongli when you first woke up, crying for your parents, which Zhongli tried to explain he would find them for you.

He put up found child posters and asked around Liyue, but nobody knew who you were.

"Well… I guess your mine now, kid."

It took you a long time to start opening up and be a cheerful child again, but Zhongli was up for the task.

Every night, Zhongli tells you a new story to lull you to sleep; because of it, you know much about Liyue's past.

You love trying to imitate Zhongli. For example, whenever Zhongli is sipping tea, you get your own cup full of juice. You also get your own book when Zhongli is reading something, even though it's too complicated for you to read.

You love going to work with Zhongli at the funeral parlor and playing with Hu Tao. She's your favorite aunt.

Zhongli doesn't allow anyone to speak badly of you as a blue Oni. The moment someone does, he isn't Zhongli anymore, he's Morax.

The day that you called Zhongli Dad for the first time made him sob for hours.

I accidentally read this as Childe as a child and had to go back and rewrite the entire thing. I'm so glad your friend showed you my blog, i'm always happy when people stick around! I hope you enjoy! <3

Tag List Here

@rainbowleo @okadahimeko @0-kuki-0 @cyberpandas-blog

[catindabag]

TBOSAS AU ✨CRACK! TAKE✨: The 10th HG Mentors According to Drunk Dean Highbottom. (Part 4)

⭐️❄️⭐️

Well, here is the last part of this TBOSAS Crack! Post. Still, for the new readers, I would like you to read part one for context.

Here are all the parts anyway: [1] [2] [3]

⭐️MENTORS⭐️

Palmolive Monthly? Chimaera Moon Tea? (Palmyra Monty)

Eats expired food on a daily basis.

How are you still even alive?!

Immune to poison, but don’t ask how.

A Diabolical Bimbo Psycho.

Sweet but might kill me in my sleep.

Therapists are afraid of her.

Your mama is unhinged AF.

Stop sending your classmates to the hospital every other day!😫

Almost destroyed the school kitchen.

Is banned from entering any public kitchen.

Is very skilled with a blade kitchen knife.

Can’t be trusted with anyone’s life.

May have accidentally killed people before.

My hospital bills left the chat.

The Capitol’s health care system only existed because of you.

Almost killed me with cursed cookies.

Your family only got rich by owning the largest distillery in all of Panem.

You literally owe me and your class a lifetime supply of posca!

You do know your family murdered a lot of rebels via food poisoning, right?

Can and WILL certainly win the Hunger Games, but don’t ask how.🤢

Dominatrix Whim Sicko? Domestic Whim Sea Witch? (Domitia Whimsiwick)

The “Dairy Heiress” of Panem.

Very kind and caring.

Willing to trade a fat chicken for good grades.

Brought a dairy cow for ✨Show & Tell✨.

Knows how to make delicious cheese.

Has a “therapy” goat named Mr. Peachy Pants.

Can bride anyone with a slice of butter.

Gave me a fresh bottle of milk when I got hospitalized from food poisoning.

Your father is too carefree to be a business tycoon.

Your family’s mansion looks more like ranch. Just saying.🙄

Why do you wear farm boots to school?

Does my school look like a barn to you?!

Can easily wrestle a bull.

Is allergic to raspberries for some reason.

Don’t crash your family’s tractor in the entrance hall again.

Forever banned from driving any kind of vehicle in the Capitol.

Stuck on her “Farm Gal” era forever.

Likes to take pictures of cute feral squirrels.

Will only win the Hunger Games if she was allowed to ride a cow to victory.

Tennis String (Dennis Fling)

Likes to smuggle and trade illegal goods.

Business minded.

Manipulative AF.

Very friendly, but untrustworthy.

Is painfully likable AF.

Likes the smell of money.

Can find any loopholes to avoid jail time.

Too dangerous to become a lawyer.

Is not allowed to go into politics.

Claimed to have seen at least a hundred banned films.

Your family is shady AF, and everybody knows it.

Don’t send me a literal horse head as a joke again!😠

Your family only got FILTHY RICH by illegally establishing and running the Capitol Black Market.

Remind me again on why I haven’t expelled you yet.🤔

Gave me a stolen but expensive painting for Teacher’s Day.

Yes. I know. You can’t be reaped as a Tribute in the Hunger Games if you can bribe everyone and anyone, even your own mother that you never existed in the first place.

Apple Ring (Apollo Ring)

Extremely friendly.

Likes to wear identical outfits with his twin.

Sometimes has delinquent tendencies.

Is a certified Himbo.

Has a sunny personality.

Happy all the time, even at funerals.

Acts like a golden retriever.

Stop stealing and eating my cupcakes every time you visit my office!

By the way, how the heck did your family got super rich just by selling pajama onesies?!

And why can’t you give me that exclusive lion onesie for free?🥺

Most likely to surrender himself for a puppy.

Likes everyone, even the mean girls.

Too carefree for his own good.

Greets danger like a friend.

Gave me a very nice mug for the winter holidays.🥹

Survival rate is almost close to zero.

Will NEVER win the Hunger Games. You’re literally too nice for your own good.

Dino Ring (Diana Ring)

Always on her “Soft Girl” era.

Has a sunny personally.

Dangerously lovable AF.

Is a certified Bimbo.

Too carefree to survive a war.

Was almost labeled as the only “normal” student of her class.

Is always optimistic, but in an unhealthy kind of way.

Acts like a very jolly corgi.

Loves to eat sweets.

Tell your rich parents to send me a free but exclusive onesie.

Also, don’t tell your mama that it was me who was asking.

Likes to give big sisterly warm hugs to everyone but me.🥺

I know that you were the one who stole my precious jar of marbles.😠

I should give you a demerit for that alone.

The only student who gave me a holiday greeting card.🥹

Will NEVER win the Hunger Games, just like her own twin.

Tiny Harry Tone (Pliny “Pup” Harrington)

Is a very good swimmer.

Your father is strict and scary AF.

Your family members are known to value cleanliness and good manners above all else. So why are you such a slob?

Thinks he’s the class clown.

Hangs out with garbage boy every weekend.

Knows how to hype up a crowd.

Is good at throwing the best underground parties ever, but don’t tell his dad.

Can forge anyone’s signature, even his own father’s.

Sometimes skips school to secretly go clubbing with a bunch dropouts.

Gave me a freaking jar of sand from District 4 as a “thank you” gift.

Claimed to have the ability to talk to freaking dolphins.

Has no interest in following his father’s footsteps.

Can literally sleep anywhere and everywhere.

Once slept under the teacher’s desk without anyone knowing.

Once slept inside my office cabinet without me noticing.

Don’t go into my office if you just want to skip class and sleep all day!

Likes to eat any kind of soup.

Can stay underwater for about 5 minutes. Impressive, really.

Can win the Hunger Games by hiding and sleeping all the way to victory.

[peter-pantomime]

Stranger Things Fic Recs, Part 2

Part 1 (all Jonanceve)

Steve/Eddie

Three Weddings and a Funeral (starting point of Let us Dwell in Fair Ithilien and There Make a Garden series, see read order in summary)

Steve Harrington falls in love and gets married. Not in that order. Some other stuff happens along the way too. But those are the two big things. That first one especially.

(Or: celebrations of life)

Lovesick in Loch Nora

Even though Eddie's name has been cleared legally, he's still very much on trial in the court of public opinion. Dealing drugs isn't a lucrative occupation anymore, and getting a legitimate job in a town who still considers him a killer isn't much of an option, either. Eddie is beginning to think skipping town and starting over somewhere no one knows his name is the only chance he has left. Steve has another idea.

AKA: Steve gets Eddie a job as an anonymous columnist at a local newspaper.

Keep It for Me

It's 1993, and Steve is attending Lucas and Max's wedding.

It's 1993, and no one has seen Eddie Munson in seven years.

same as it ever was

In 1986, Steve Harrington is doing his best. Trying to rebuild a life for his friends who’ve been to hell and back, and trying to carve out space for himself and his strange growing friendship with Eddie Munson.

At least, until Eddie leaves.

Four years later they meet again, and Eddie comes crashing back into Steve’s life, ready to tear down the walls Steve has painstakingly built around his heart.

Or: a story about holding on, letting go, and opening your heart to the unexpected. Even if the unexpected is a flighty rockstar in skin tight jeans.

smoking guns (hot to the touch)

Sure, they've saved the world, but the best part of that really is that it doesn't end there and in a town where everyone thinks he murdered a girl, he's at least got Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. It's really not his fault he accidentally starts living at Steve's house, he was invited, after all. There's a mystery too, about Barbara Holland and Steve's pool.

You're the Driver, You're the Road

Eddie meant it when he said once he graduated, he was getting the hell out of Hawkins.

He just didn't realize that Steve was going to keep showing up.

misgiven

“I know we don’t– know each other that well. Like, at all. But I remembered that night in January and how– how you tried to help, when I needed it, and didn’t really want it. And I’m not letting anyone read their letters unless it happens, but yours isn’t– I don’t know. It just says thank you. For trying. And for getting it, when no one else did."

(or, turns out eddie's backstory is pretty similar to max's own. he offers her an understanding ear; when vecna comes, she and steve might need to return the favor.)

a cinematic vision ensued (like the holiest dream)

Eddie and Steve have been spending a lot of time together since Vecna. They're co-parenting kids, getting high every night, and sleeping in the same bed. They basically share a wardrobe too.

He thinks this is dangerous, its like they’re married, the casual sharing of intimacy, this space between them which feels like something and nothing all at the same time. He thinks it’s dangerous for him to pretend Steve sees it the same way, that one day Steve’s droopy, kind eyes are going to see right through him and he’ll lose this. This being a side of Steve’s bed that is his, a nightstand where his rings always pile, a draw of shirts in Steve’s bedroom that only Steve uses. He can’t lose it, so he shuts his mouth, turns out the light, and watches the slow breathing of sleep fill Steve’s chest.

the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you

Sixteen years after the world didn't end for the last time, Max Mayfield showed up on Steve’s doorstep and said, “You gonna walk me down the aisle in May or what?” Or, it’s 2002 and Steve Harrington attends a wedding, a funeral, and a birth.

make a deal with god

“Yeah, great job, Henderson,” Steve says. “Risk your life for the ticking time bomb. I don’t foresee a way this can go wrong at all.”

“Uh, no man left behind,” Dustin argues, which would be kinda sweet, except, “even the ones with a hundred murder charges.”

“Thanks, dude,” Eddie says to him, anyway. In his peripheral, Steve rolls his eyes.

or, Eddie escapes the Upside Down. Problem is, he’s still wanted for—well. Pretty much everything. So he hides out in Steve's basement.

Some Things Cosmic

Steve has a dream about Eddie.

And another. And another. And another...

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting

It’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. He’s dove into the water hundreds of times. Screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard Master of Puppets in the distance and held back tears. Felt Max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. There are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: El doesn’t arrive in time. Eddie dies. Max is put in a coma.

Steve fails. They lose.

“Steve, how many loops have you been through?”

His head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and Eddie has approached him like a spooked animal.

“I lost count.”

AKA: The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

Summer '86

After everything that happened during Spring Break, life for everyone in Hawkins returned to somewhat normal. Well, aside from Steve's new friendship with one Eddie Munson.

The gang decide they all deserve a break and head to Steve's family beach house for a week, featuring copious amounts of fluff, found family bonding, blurring (or completely ignoring) the line between platonic and romantic, and bullying being considered flirting.

Whole Lotta Love

Steve scoffs. "I think if I was dating someone, Robin, I would be the first to know about it."

"Would you, though?" Robin says.

looking for something dumb to do

It's June 26, 2015. Eddie Munson turns fifty today. Steve has a question for him.

(hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.)

Various Polyamories

Birds of a Feather

Robin watched as Will slipped away from the group, and into the hall. He looked like he couldn’t breathe, and fuck. She knew that feeling. Dear God, or gods… or goddess… hell, maybe it was the Flying Spaghetti Monster out there… but dear whatever, did she ever know that feeling and hated to see others in it.

She rounded the corner to see a truly heartbreaking sight. Will had his back on the cinder block wall, his butt on the cold cheap tile floor, and his knees up. Tears rolled down his face as he stared off into the distance, but he didn’t heave any heavy breaths or sob. It was a scene Robin was all too familiar with. She had seen this in herself at many dances or school functions where she felt too different. It was deja-vu in the worst way, and Robin thought back to all those times and remembered how all she wanted was a bit of comfort.

“Will?” She called stepping closer.

You Give It All (But I Want More)

It only stings a little when Steve leans in one night and kisses Nancy by the firelight. Eddie’s used to being in pain, anyway, and it’s nice to have the ache come from someplace different, variety being the spice of life. He thinks he does a decent job at keeping his expression neutral, but Robin reaches out and hooks their pinkies together, such a small, conciliatory gesture, he knows she’s got his number. Maybe she’s feeling the same ache, too.

I Wanna Hurt You (Just to Hear You Screaming My Name)

This, Eddie knows, is a bad decision, because Nancy and Jonathan broke up three days ago, in a way that hardly feels like a break up at all, so much as growing pains. It’s a bad decision, because Steve’s heart is in his hands, and Nancy has never been careful, not with him, not with anyone. It’s a bad decision, because Eddie is still on the floor looking up, watching as hands trail across skin, as lines are crossed, and more than wanting to stop them, he wants those hands on him, too.

Nancy and Steve fall into old, familiar patterns, with new, unfamiliar parts.

House Like a Homecoming

The thing about being the Resident Weirdo of Hawkins is that when Eddie buys Reefer Rick’s place out on the lake, people don’t notice - or at the very least pretend not to notice - when a few extra people move in.

Or, the gradual unfolding of a polyamorous relationship between our favorite Monster Hunters, set some amorphous months post-season 4/post-series where the gang just gets to be soft and have the things they want

[sweethoneyrose83]

Dark romantic comedy Writing prompts:

1. Love Beyond the Grave:A mortician falls in love with a ghost haunting the funeral home where they work. The ghost has a mischievous sense of humor, leading to quirky and comedic situations as the mortician tries to navigate their unusual romance.

2. The Serial Matchmaker: An eccentric matchmaker has an uncanny ability to bring couples together, but there's a catch—they must survive a series of hilariously disastrous dates orchestrated by the matchmaker. Things take a dark turn when the matchmaker's own love life becomes entangled in the chaos.

3. Cursed Chemistry: Two amateur witches mistakenly cast a love spell gone wrong. Instead of falling for the intended targets, they find themselves hopelessly attracted to each other. As they try to reverse the spell, their magical mishaps lead to both comical and sinister consequences.

4. Romeo and Juliet's Offspring: Descendants of the feuding families from "Romeo and Juliet" accidentally meet and fall in love at a therapy group for those affected by family conflicts. Their attempts to hide their relationship amidst the ongoing rivalry result in absurdly funny situations.

5. The Wedding Crashers...Literally:A pair of estranged exes reunite at multiple weddings they both crash independently, only to discover they've been unwittingly sabotaging each other's attempts to move on. Their constant collision course leads to hilarious confrontations and unexpected feelings.

Feel free to use these prompts as a jumping-off point for your dark romantic comedy stories!

[ellie-e-marcovitz]

Mid-May, 1998

London St Mary’s - 16 May

I woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor, cringing at the amount of sun. A ‘whisk’ and the light levels dropped considerably, allowing me to relax some, and drop my arm from covering my eyes.

“Charlie?” I rasped, feeling all out of sorts. The last thing I remembered clearly was being in the Great Hall up at Hogwarts, talking with Charlie, with everything before and after a riotous blur of colour and noise. Anymore, and my head started to hurt.

The shadowy figure paused in the act of straightening the curtains, clearly surprised at my awakening, before coming closer.

“Sorry pip,” came Jacob’s voice, his tone apologetic as he walked over and folded himself into the chair next to my bed. “But he should be back soon.”

“What day is it?” I asked, after a couple minutes of silence. He glanced at his watch, squinting for a half minute.

“At least the fourteenth…” he muttered, sticking it back in his pocket. “I accidentally damaged it on my last dig.” I mentally rolled my eyes. The mere thought of actually doing so hurt.

“More like on one of your side adventures,” I replied quietly. Jacob gave a snort of amusement. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday,” I continued. “Was it a good day?”

“Pretty good, until I received an owl, saying that my younger sister got herself injured in a bloody huge battle!” He hadn’t yelled the last part, but the emotional impact was there.

I cringed, but before he could continue further, Charlie entered the room, clutching cups of tea, and a befuddled look on his face. “I wasn’t sure which type of tea – Ellie!” he said, befuddlement turning rapidly, first to shock, then joy. “You’re awake!”

Somehow, he’d managed to not drop the tea in the process.

I smiled the best I could. “Hey Charlie,” I murmured, suddenly feeling tired again. “You’re still here.” He gave a toothy grin in return.

“Course I am. Mum wouldn’t let me leave you on your own, ‘specially once she found out you were on your own.” He handed Jacob his tea, before lounging against the windowsill, sipping his. Him and Jacob took advantage of me being awake to tell me what had transpired since I crashed in the Great Hall.

The dead had been counted, and profiled, with a team of survivors trying to contact anyone related to those lost on the light side. Death Eaters were slowly being rounded up, with Kingsley Shacklebolt at the helm of the Ministry for now.

There had also been one final Phoenix Paper drop, complete with Devon Marlowe revealing herself. Which reminded me, that I needed some way of letting her know that I was safe.

But before I could, apparently it had been long enough that the attending physician decided to pop in and check on me.

“Ah, Miss Marcovitz, you’re awake!” he cheered, his accent difficult to place. I idly noticed that he looked vaguely like a great-great uncle of mine. “I’m Dr. Chesterton.”

A quick examination later, during which I could feel some, but not all, of the prods given to the bottom of my right foot, not that we could always understand what the doctor was saying.

It was after he had moved on, that Jacob and Charlie finished their news. Apparently, several people had died at St. Mungo’s after succumbing to unseen injuries, Merula among them. I honestly felt conflicted.

It wasn’t like she was a friend to any degree, but that wasn’t really something that should happen. I didn’t wish her dead.

In other news, Tonks and Lupin were both recovering as well, and Mrs. Weasley had her children busy with a multitude of tasks and chores, along with Harry and Hermione, whom Jacob had met as well. The Burrow had apparently been ransacked a couple times while they were in hiding, as had the Twins’ shop in Diagon Alley as well.

There was also the emotional fall out as well, with the funerals starting. That left me anxious, but unable to say anything, as I started back to sleep. Clearly, I’d managed to stay awake longer than expected, as Jacob and Charlie set about dropping the light levels some more.

17 May

It was the next day that I woke with a little more clarity, and no one in the room. The TV was on, sound off, and a football match playing. It looked like it might’ve been an Arsenal match at that. I quietly watched it, wondering where either Charlie or Jacob were and when they’d be back.

It didn’t seem like a long time, before Dr. Chesterton stuck his head in, a wide grin on his face. “Ah, good, you’re awake. Just want to examine if you’ve regained any sensation since yesterday, before we start planning your physical therapy regimen.”

Those, at least, were words I could understand, even if it was close to a decade later. A good few pokes to my foot later, and still only feeling part of them, he made some notes on his clipboard and a slightly grumpy noise.

“Well, the nervous system is delicate,” he mumbled, and I could pick just the slightest Scottish accent on ‘delicate’, before he set the clipboard back in his pocket. He paused, as if to say something, before I picked up the sound of distant footsteps, and an equally distant, “Miss, please!”

It had to be Jane, followed by most, if not all, of the uni crew, Charlie and Jacob. But it had to be Jane currently barrelling towards the room I was in, leading the group. I wished for my wand, if only to dampen the sound of her yelling for the rest of the hospital.

No doubt Charlie had it. Or Jacob.

She burst into the room in such a fury that she didn’t even notice the doctor still standing in the room as well.

“ELEANOR MARCOVITZ, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!!” she roared, and I cringed. This was almost as bad as mum when she was angry. It didn’t help my ears were starting to throb. “JUST A NOTE-!”

Either Charlie or Jacob took the risk and placed a Silencing charm on her before she could get going. I winced. “Well, that’s paediatrics in a riot now…” A pause, while Jane scowled at being cut off from tirade. “I am sorry. I’d hoped to prepare a little better, but apparently the universe, and a teenage hero, had other ideas.”

A wave of a wand. “Well, at least you left us a note or two, instead of just up and disappearing this time.” She grumbled, now at a more reasonable level. “But thanks for saddling us with your classes around finals.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know who else to trust, I guess. Hey everyone,” I greeted the rest as they filtered in, Charlie snagging the chair by my bed, and Dr. Chesterton slipping out. Jacob mock-pouted at Charlie, before leaning against the windowsill.

The afternoon was a more cheerful blur, with even Audrey stopping in for a few minutes. I thought I saw Percy standing outside, waiting nervously for her.

Apparently, the pair were taking the day to escape the rebuilding process at the Ministry, which was reportedly chaotic at best. Jane even noted that Harlan was busy helping rebuild the DMLE and Department of Magical Creatures, especially in dismantling the owl mail tracing that had been set up.

It was as the afternoon waned that they decided to start heading back to Leicester, and there was a round of hugs and “see you later”s as they headed out. Jane handed over my purse, complete with my cell phone, keys and wallet, among other things.

Otherwise, it was quiet. Jacob and Charlie were softly talking, leaving me to my thoughts. I wondered if the rest of the Weasleys were going to visit, if they hadn’t already. Or if any of the Phoenix Resistance members were going to as well.

Speaking of the Phoenix Resistance… “Would either of you happen to have my wand?” I asked, quietly, but enough to startle both Jacob and Charlie. “I’d like to send a Patronus…”

Charlie dove for his pocket, pulling out my wand, bowing slightly while placing it in my hand. “For my lady…” he murmured, dropping a soft kiss and settling back down in the chair.

I grinned. “Expecto Patronum.” I whispered, and a small hoard of puffskein-like tribbles piled out of my wand. A moment, and with a flick, they vanished. I leaned back with a soft groan. Sending such a short message had taken a lot out of me.

I took the moment to nap some, waking to the sound of an owl tapping on the window sometime later. I nudged whoever was in the chair, listening for nurses.

I was handed the scroll of parchment. Cracking the intricate ministry seal, I read,

Sorry I can’t visit. Far too much to do here at the Ministry. But Henry says he might soon. Devon.

Shrugging, I turned it over, and fished out a pen. A short reply was needed, if nothing else.

Don’t wait too long!

18 May

It was the day after, and after Dr. Chesterton finished prodding my foot, along with a promise of something other than the grossly over-nutrient packed hospital food, that there was a knock.

For all I knew, it was a nurse, as both Jacob and Charlie were loose in the hospital, exploring it, like it was some kind of grand adventure. They’d both been shooed out by the nurse who had accompanied Dr. Chesterton, leaving me on my own.

Come in,” I called, my voice still raspy from a lack of use. The door opened, revealing Henry. “Henry! You came!”

“Hey Ellie! Sorry Devon couldn’t come with me.” He closed the door, before settling into the chair. A clip of an announcement filtered through the door as he did so. “Will the two men…”

“It’s alright,” I replied, quietly groaning a little at the announcement.  “I understand things are more than a little busy.” Jane and Audrey had both said as much yesterday, with Devon confirming this with her owl.

And the announcement made me suspect that those “two men” were Jacob and Charlie up to something they shouldn’t be.

Henry pulled a pastry box from his pocket, though not one I immediately recognised. Either way, it smelled delicious, as he set on the small table hanging just above my feet. “Here, I brought you these…”

Upon closer inspection of the box, the logo on it did look somewhat familiar – when I scavenged through the remains of the pub. There had been fragments near the bar area.

“I recognise the logo… kind of…” I noted, softly prodding the box.

“It’s Devon’s family bakery, in Paris.” Henry smiled, reaching over and opening the box. The delicious smells grew.

“Ahh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense. And those smell heavenly.” I happily groaned, as I tried my best to sit up. Finding the remote for the bed, I moved it into a more comfortable sitting position.

“Whoa!” came Henry’s surprised shout, as it moved. I grinned, feeling a touch mischievous.

“It’s better than lying down all day.” I smirked, before pulling the small table closer. “Now, which pastries did you bring…?”

I recognised croissants and macarons, several different flavours at that, but it had been a couple years since I’d been in France.

My confusion must’ve shown, as Henry piped in. “There are croissants, plain, chocolate and almond; a couple flavours of macarons, Paris-Brest, and a couple éclairs.” Raising the box lid with a finger, he poked his head in as well. “Even possibly some madeleines.”

I cooed at the treats. “They all look so delicious…” And more than likely, not allowed. We’d have to be sneaky. Henry gave a short laugh.

“Devon somehow remembered the pastries you devoured the first time you visited the pub.” I flushed a little. That seemed so long ago…

“Yeah, well… a trans-Atlantic flight and barely a bite to eat beforehand…” I’d been so nervous and stressed at the time… I gave a crooked smile. “I’ll definitely get Charlie and Jacob to help me with these. Thanks, Henry. Give my regards to Devon as well.”

We chatted some more about what had happened, both during the battle of Hogwarts and what happened after as well with the Phoenix Resistance. Jacob and Charlie arrived up in the room, knocking as they entered, as Henry was halfway through the celebration at the Leaky Cauldron a few days after the events.

They were in an absurdly jovial mood as they entered. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what they’d gotten up to since being kicked out of the room. They both leaned against the windowsill, Charlie greeting Henry with a raised hand.

It was after he wrapped his story, and greeted Charlie, that he seemed to remember that he had something else in his pocket. “I couldn’t find the lilies you tended to send,” he started, pulling a bouquet of flowers dramatically from his pocket. “But the florist Devon recommended did find some I think you’ll like.” A pause, as he glanced around the otherwise bare room, looking for something.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a vase in your bag, would you?” he asked the room at large. Both Charlie and I shook our heads. Jacob seemed very interested in his bag, before shaking his head as well.

A quick flick of Jacob’s wand, and the cup of water next to the pastries transfigured into an intricately cut glass vase, the perfect size for the flowers. A quick aguamenti, and they took pride of place on the small bedside table.

It was a little while after that Henry excused himself, citing the need to make sure Devon didn’t overwork herself at the ministry. I raised a hand in farewell, feeling tired. Jacob pulled a book out, settling into the chair as I nodded off.

Things were looking up.

Henry belongs to @thatravenpuffwitch and Devon belongs to @kathrynalicemc​ . Cheers! 🍻

And I’m by no means a medical expert. Just going off of what limited experience I’ve had.

[turnstileskyline]

Muppet asks (answer whatever you feel like, I just wrote a bunch because I love the Muppets and I get to don’t talk about them enough lol)

Top 5 favorite Fraggle Rock episodes?

What classic would you adapt into a Muppet version and why?

Top 5 original Muppet Show guests?

Favorite Muppet costume/outfit?

What is your Watsonian explanation for why Gonzo loves chickens?

Favorite non-speaking background creature? (ex: the little guys from Fraggle Rock that look kinda like if flies were mammals)

Which Muppet movie do you think has the best original songs/works best as a musical?

And this last one isn’t even a question, just remember when Miss Piggy crashes through a plate glass window on her motorcycle in The Great Muppet Caper?

OO HOO i can always count on you to come thru with muppet asks!! these are really good ones too thank you

top 5 fraggle rock episodes (in no order)

wembley and the gorgs. always a classic.

sidebottom blues

scared silly

mokeys funeral is incredible for the sole reason of mokey accidentally faking her own death

sprokets big adventure

what classic would you adapt into a muppet version and why?

hear me out. the muppet of dorian gray. lord henry and basil are both humans. as is dorian . until he wishes his soul into the portrait . upon doing so there is a comedically obvious bolt of lightning (its not storming) and where human dorian was is now a muppet. the portrait remains of a human. neither basil nor lord henry addresses this. dorian seems unaware. none of the muppets really have the vibe to play dorian except miss piggy for some reason. as for why? well i love making things that are confusing

top five original muppet show guests (also in no order)

joel grey

harry belafonte

alice cooper

lena horne

liza minelli

favorite muppet costume/outfit

so piggy and gonzo always have LOOKS but a favorite of mine is always gonna be janice in muppet christmas carol its so cute and good

your explanation for gonzo loving chickens

if you want the actual answer dave goelz improvised a line in the muppet show where gonzo tells a chicken (not muppet chicken, an actual chicken) that they have nice legs and it just kind of stuck as a character quirk!

which muppet movie do you think has the best original songs/works best as a musical?

so i personally think that any muppet musical would have to be an original one with original songs, however i think that the best muppet soundtracks are emmett otters jugband christmas, the muppet movie, and muppet christmas carol :)

and miss piggy and her motorcycle are glorious

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 21: Elegy

Summary: Ed and Stede make bold choices. See how it works out for them.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

The only cure for a raging hangover is further rage.

At least, that’s what Stede said after Ed had dropped him off at his hotel to get what he needed for his mother’s funeral. It was a quick ride back to the room for Ed to open up (though if Ed doesn’t actually open it up to the public for the day and plans for them to have the place to themselves, no one will know).

And thus, the fifteenth time Stede enters Blackbeard’s Breakery it is with a dress bag containing an expensive suit, sunglasses covering his eyes, and a plea to leave the lights off.

Ed has all the safety gear at the ready, but when Stede sees it he shakes his head.

“Have to wear the gear to rage, Stede.”

Stede sighs. “Can I just sit? In the room, instead?”

Ed scoops the goggles and other gear back into the bin. “You can do that, too. Music?”

“Something quiet. I just want to think.”

Stede makes his way in and sits down. After a few seconds he looks expectantly at the camera.

“Did you want me to join you, mate?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty awkward otherwise, isn’t it?” Ed chuckles and heads in. He hopes Stede has been thinking about things. He hopes they’re on the same page. Ed has never been more ready to take his life in any direction as he is now. His days of aimless existing are drawing to a close.

They find themselves sitting quietly on the ground in an empty room. It’s quiet, dark. Soft music plays through the speakers. Alive by Kisnou begins. Ed had fallen asleep to that song on repeat the previous night. It feels… right.

I will dive into you I’ll sail in this love that’s true

Ed smiles. “You know, I never expected my life to take a turn like this.”

Stede looks at him and smiles. “Has it? Taken a turn?”

Translucent waves Cover me oh beautiful In the waters of your grace

“Well, yeah. New friends, new future. Feelin’ new things, tryin’ new experiences. Feels good.”

“I know that… well, it feels good for me, too. Despite everything else. The new people part.” Stede’s ears turn red as they always do.”

I will dive into you I’ll swim in your ocean blue

“You know, you’ve got everything ahead of you, man. Your whole life. You don’t have to be afraid of change.”

“Yeah, well… these changes are maybe bigger than I hoped.” Stede stands up and stretches a bit. “But if I can weather this… maybe. You know?”

I’m alive in you Let your waters Dance over me

Ed smiles. “I know.”

Stede turns to him. “Ed, there’s… it’s hard being vulnerable… I’m worried I’m going to mess this up…”

This is where you set me free

Ed feels like a sledge, but instead of tiny, invisible huskies leading him, it’s those angels and demons both pulling him towards the man he loves. He isn’t sure what they want him to do, but he rises and stands close enough to smell Stede’s cologne, hints of orange and bergamot from the shampoo he’d used in the last hour, to see the flecks of green in Stede’s hazel eyes. Not just that, but the wanting. The yearning. Ed can almost see his own reflected back at him.

“I want to thank you for everything, Ed,” Stede says softly, almost at a whisper. “You’ve been by my side as everything has fallen apart… you’re the only reason I’ve held on at all. I’m so grateful for you.”

Stede’s smile is tired. His hand accidentally brushes Ed’s. The demons bring out little flamethrowers and incinerate the angels into hot ash and-

Fuck angels. Fuck Judeo-Christian metaphors.

Ed moves in for a kiss, as gentle of one as his libido will allow, and he feels like a wave crashing upon Stede’s shores at first. Stede gasps a little, for but a moment, but Ed feels the fluttering in his chest as the kiss is returned, as his faith in Stede is realized, as his trust in love is validated, as…

As Stede steps back with another gasp, panting. No, not panting.

Hyperventilating.

“Are you- was that okay?” Ed asks with worry.

“Ed… I’m sorry… I thought… why?” Stede isn’t meeting Ed’s eyes. The warmth from the moment goes cold.

“I’m so sorry Stede, I thought you wanted… you were just…” Ed is confused at Stede’s confusion, upset that Stede is upset, devastated that Stede is devastated.

“No… it’s… it’s okay Ed… it’s just…” Stede bursts into tears.

Ed hovers his hands around Stede’s shoulders, afraid to touch him. Can he comfort him? Will Stede comfort him back?

“It’s just… I trusted… I thought you accepted me for who I was.” Stede wipes his eyes.

“What? Stede, of course I do.”

“Ed, youkissedme, I told you I was straight and…” Stede sighs in frustration. His voice is quiet. “No one believes me. No one.”

“Stede… this is my fault. I’m sorry. I’ve had a crush on you and… I read the room wrong. Don’t…” Ed reaches out and Stede steps back.

“No… it isn’t you Ed… it’s me.” Stede takes another step towards the door. “I just can’t be who people need me to be.” Another step. “I can’t… I can’t be who you need me to be, Ed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” Ed’s heart has dropped to the bottom of his feet. He feels everything crashing around him, the breaking of ceramic, smashing of glass, the splintering of wood, and the room is empty. Stede is at the door.

“I think I need to go now,” Stede practically whispers, backing out quietly, with fragility, as one does in the room of a dying relative.

“It’s going to…” Ed’s voice trails off. Stede is gone.

---

“Mary. You didn’t have to come.” Stede helps her out of her car, and Mary notices that he doesn’t bother to avoid the splash of water from the gutter on his suit pants.

“You can’t do this alone, Stede. She was your mother. And she was our children’s grandmother.” Alma and Louis spring out of the car and run onto the cemetery grass, laughing. Mary sighs and holds up her hands at them before turning to her husband.

“The children… did they want to come?”

“It doesn’t matter. This is something families do together.” Stede looks exhausted. Mary can’t imagine what losing his mother has done to him. They weren’t close to her, none of them were. But in a way, that can make things worse, she suspects.

“I didn’t think…”

“That we were still a family? Stede, I expect you at Thanksgiving, you know that? You still have children. We need to learn to co-parent.”

Stede nods and looks contrite. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m being bad at this again.”

His bowtie is crooked. Mary adjusts it.

“This is the last family funeral you have to go to, hmm? You won’t need to bother for your father. He doesn’t deserve a funeral.”

Stede gives a weak half-smile at that. “Mary… I intend to give a eulogy. For mom. Of course, I mean who else?”

“I thought you would. Your father okay with that?”

“He will not be okay with it. And you should make yourself and the kids scarce when I give it.” Stede sighs.

“You think he’ll get violent?”

Stede winces. “Probably not in front of this lot. But… it’s going to be a proper eulogy. An honest one.”

Mary nods. She is proud of Stede. He’s a terrible husband and father, sure. Annoying, definitely a coward. But he’s done a lot of brave things lately. He deserves to find happiness. Mary would like to think she wished he could be happy with her… but that would be a lie. She deserves better, too.

The funeral is dull, somber and sad, but not in the way a funeral should be. The sadness comes from the distinct lack of tears or real mourning from the attendees. It’s a group of old, soulless associates of the Bonnets, each of whom probably put more thought into the expensive outfits they would wear today than they have ever thought of Sarah Bonnet her whole life. People whispered about her, mocked her behind her back. She’d never defended herself, not even once. Meek and mild to the end. And while her obituaries would pin her cause of death on liver cancer, Mary knew that Sarah’s inability to stand up for herself or her son was the biggest cancer in her life.

Mary would be damned if she allowed the same to take her almost-ex-husband.

Even if he is a terrible husband and father.

Edward Bonnet’s eulogy for his late wife is short, perfunctory, a cold summation of their years of marriage. There is no show of emotion from him. That would be a weakness. Mary shudders imagining such an end to her own life. If this was all those who knew her could muster on her behalf. Stede wouldn’t… he won’t, anyway. He’ll be her ex-husband for a long time before she passes. And Doug? Doug will make Mary’s funeral light, beautiful, happy.

Mary hopes that when the time comes, there will be someone to give Stede the same. And it had better be a man this time.

When Edward Bonnet finishes his eulogy, Stede stands and approaches the microphone. He gets a scowl in return.

“What is it, Stede? We’re moving on.”

“I am her son. I would like to say a few words on her behalf.”

“I didn’t plan for-”

“Of course you didn’t. You won’t deny me to share something nice about my mother here, will you?” Stede gestures to the crowd, almost every member a person who Edward Bonnet respects or wants to respect him.

Mary takes the opportunity to tell Louis and Alma to go play in the grass.

“Fine. Make it quick.” He stalks away and Stede takes his place at the microphone.

“I would like to thank you all for coming. My mother would likely be surprised to see so many faces here, today.” Stede shuffles his notes. “So very little ever surprised Sarah Bonnet. She kept her feelings inside, where it was appropriate to hide them. She hid away from the world, believing it to be a cruel place.” He looks up at the crowd. “My mother was a victim of abuse. Physical abuse, emotional abuse, both at the hands of the people who should have loved her most.”

Edward uncrosses his arms from where he has been standing at the back of the tent. “That is a lie! How dare you besmirch your mother’s name like that!”

“Her parents, her husband. Men were not kind to her. Women were not kind to her. She had so much to offer, but the world was never ready to accept it. So she kept it hidden away. She kept herself hidden away, and taught her son to do the same.”

Edward stalks forward, “Of course you’re making this about you and your failures-”

“Father, if you are going to hit me again, I ask that you wait until we’re behind closed doors, like you used to.” Stede’s face is expressionless. He shuffles his speech cards. “No one stood up for her. That was your way. To stand by and allow it, because you respected my father, or were afraid of him. And your children learned from you. An army of soulless husks, draining the earth of joy with no love to replenish it.”

The crowd grumbles and people begin to leave. It is clear from Edward’s disapproval that they don’t need to pretend to listen to this speech, anyway.

Edward grabs the microphone. “Get out of here,now. I disown you. You are a disgrace. I wil lnever see you again.”

Stede doesn’t acknowledge him. He just continues without the microphone. Seats around Mary begin to clear.

“My mother and father taught me many things. The most important of which are what not to do.” Stede looks at Mary. “I wish I had learned those lessons sooner. I wish I had figured out how to live my life without harming others. I’m sorry. I’m sorry on behalf of myself, my mom, and my father, who will never be.”

Stede tosses the speech cards on the ground at his father’s feet and steps down from the stage. Edward reaches out for Stede’s collar and Stede bats his arm away and grabs his wrist.

“Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

Stede releases his father’s arm and approaches Mary. She smiles.

“I’m so proud of you, Stede.”

Stede nods, but doesn’t smile. His face is expressionless.

“Tell the kids I’ll be there for Thanksgiving, Mary.”

He puts his hands in his pockets and walks away.

---

Ed: Stede, I’m so sorry about yesterday. You had boundaries and I crossed them.

Ed: Talk to me?

Stede: It isn’t your fault. You are ok.

Stede: There’s a lot going on.

Stede: I just need to be alone.

Ed: Ok. Call me when you’re ready?

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Toxic masculinity is bullshit. Elegy for bad rubbish.

Comments: TheRealWande: Everything okay man? Call me.

Chapter 22

[enginedrop73]

One suppose to tackle as in current event ! Your not female caliphate wife's. Jinn our exposed and sent to Barbara gene Vernon son from Neptune. Who telling the sex privacy & people caught up along the way. Hand clapping makes spirits flee. Through ways , highways and alleys. Do you send jinns to celibacy must be for the craziness found incrissis units on a rise. Expecially , when homosexuality is never jinn loved . Felt so.ething touching mysf years but recently must be a 50/50 splice for their is a ti turn around of the jinn tooth. Keep the first time or confused on the binged tricked out live making orbs away from me. Seeking out the big booty girl nice humor , funny that pulled up and left her car In neutral ( rolled back )  the same exact same thing that happened my year 1995 conviction , how she knew the same - exact as she gets out and do not realized. Except the victim who really knew myself then we socialized exchanged numbers. ( Stayed in the car and stared at myself for several minutes.  Techno thing happened  I was eighteen years old for a month and she was thirty eight mind control , pretty , pretty boy who her secret agent female friend raped myself same age a few blocks over with nice clothes on adult swim mannerism. ( Whatever you got take it out your pocket and tore my pants off. Heard her voice at the casket at my Barbara gene Vernon funeral. I think she own a space ship or mind reading and living unseen drone robot. Why I am t getting paid from a misdemeanor and a board of change evaluation committee. Last to obtain request to not follow my car pool on foot due to accidental crashes freaky by nature and crawl stalk. ( 33 48 million review million SPLIT Commitee. I ASK QHIW ON THe run in the year 1993 sent a Dale very thick to Asbury park next of the woods from the same location I was tapes by this strange lady to perform prostitute acts with a 1 k pack of drug money stole from my associates . .yswlf with a porno magazine to keep out of trouble said as we went to act " I have a cousin who does that while getting falAsio performed look at magazine.

[delfiore]

chewing cotton wool

pairing: yelena belova x reader (romantic or platonic, very vague)

synopsis: you watch over yelena.

word count: 3.1k

now playing:

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Yelena hasn’t moved from her spot since you died.

You had been taken in a few hours earlier, pulled from the wreckage of a crash hundreds of miles away from the Compound. They tried everything, but you didn’t make it.

Your body lay on the table, but it was so cold when they pulled the white cloth over your face.

After all the screaming and crying had passed, she sunk back into the crappy chair in the med bay and stared into the blank wall in front of her. Her mouth has dried like a desert as she hasn’t eaten, drunk, not spoken ever since the news was brought to her. That was four hours ago, she hadn’t moved and it was starting to concern you.

“Yelena.” Her sister moved to sit next to her on the other side. “You should go back and change.”

She didn’t move a muscle and didn’t reply either.

“Y/N wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

“I can’t go back there.” You heard her speak for the first time, her voice frail and breaking. “Please leave me alone.”

It was strange being dead. When you were alive, you could only ever see from one perspective, experience life in a bubble made of your background, beliefs and experiences that you could never really escape from. As a soul attached to no body, you would float like a balloon and see things that you would never see if you were alive. You could listen in on conversations and see how others thought and behaved without your presence; you were always curious about others really saw you. In a way, being dead was like if you were granted the power of invisibility.

And right now, you would give everything to be able to touch Yelena, to wrap your arms around her sunken shoulders and hold her until her cries subside. But you could only watch as Nat took your place and lead her back to the living quarters.

You trailed behind the women as they approached Yelena’s room, which has become yours too ever since you accidentally slept in her room and never bothered to return to yours anymore.

“Go change into new clothes. I’ll get you something to eat in a bit.” Nat said.

“Stop treating me like I’m fragile.” Yelena snapped, her biting tone took Nat by surprise. “I told you I’m fine, now please leave me alone.”

You watched Nat’s jaw clench as she attempted to blink away tears. She quickly shook off her sullen expression with a sad smile.

“Okay.” She said. “I’ll bring you something in an hour.”

Just as Nat close the door behind her, Yelena collapsed onto the bed, doubling over with her elbows on her knees. You say beside her as she cried again, her sobbed rattling in her throat that ripped at your heart.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Except Natasha, no one saw her until the day of your funeral. She appeared in plain black, the way she was used to, and prepared herself for the sympathetic eyes that the Avengers were to give her. The first one was the captain, blue eyes staring down at her under creased eyebrows like she was a kicked puppy. He muttered an “I’m sorry” and tapped her lightly on the shoulder, so gentle, but so annoying that Yelena only wanted to punch him in the face.

While she waited for Sam to finish his speech about what an amazing human being you were, her hands began to clench around the paper containing her own speech that Nat had encourage her to write a few days before. She felt like punching him too because he would never understand what an actually amazing person you were. She felt like all of her words on the paper were in vain.

She reached next to her, feeling the cold wind weaving its way through her finger. She reached the way she did when it was your mother’s funeral, your hand reaching back and clutching it as you tried not to make too much noise crying. Your mother meant a lot to you, and losing her broke your spirits. Yelena had never really known loss like that before, but she could imagine how much pain you were in, and made herself ready to be there and take care of you through your grief. She hated Steve and Sam, and maybe you too, because you weren’t there to comfort her like she was for you.

You watched the silent tears roll down her cheeks, and reached out to wipe it away. Your hand went through her just as Sam finished his speech.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

All you did was watch nowadays, watch as the Compound slowly moved on without you. Watch Bucky learn to trust himself on his own, watch Tony talk to Rhodey about his grief for you and not bury himself in the lab 24/7, watch Nat get back on her groove and take care of herself . . . The only person you really cared most about and hoped would become better, didn’t. She moved like a ghost, sleepless eyes and her form the hollow shell of the girl you once knew.

You didn’t understand why you were still here. You always thought death was a passage to another realm, but you still lingered here, watching over the people you love in pain at your absence.

“Yelena, you have to eat something.”

You took a seat next to her on the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around her slumped shoulders. You sighed as you followed her gaze through the bedroom door, into the kitchen where there was a grey bowl on the ground which has sat empty for the past few days.

She sniffled and roughly swiped the back of her hand under her eyes, and placed her weary head back on her knees which she had been miserably hugging for the past hour or so.

“I know you love her, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” You spoke softly, leaning in to put your chin on her arm. “She wouldn’t want you to be sad.”

“Whenever I was sad, she’d always be there.” Yelena said. “She’d sit next to me and nuzzle her little snout into my lap until I’d started petting her. It’s like she understood, and she never left me alone.”

You remembered, because Fanny did the same for you. Whenever Yelena was gone on a mission, you were never alone as the dog followed your everywhere, wagging her tail and looking up at you with those curious and beady eyes. She was a part of your little family, and she took a piece of your heart and Yelena’s the day you saw her sad eyes in the clinic as if she knew what was happening.

“Fanny was a great dog.” You said.

“Yeah, she was.” Yelena nodded and smiled.

Your eyes followed Yelena’s form as she slowly got up from her fetal position, grunting slightly at the crack of her knees for staying in said position for too long. She made her way into the kitchen and began to make herself a sandwich. As she took a bite, you glanced towards the picture on the wall of you holding her and Fanny with wide smiles.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

There’s a belief in Buddhism that on the 49th day after a person passes, their soul would experience a rebirth. A new life in a new body, a reset. Yet you were still here in your old life, half alive. You lingered and you felt like you were floating everywhere, as if you could be blown away by the slightest gust of wind, yet your thoughts raced at a million miles. You had so many questions, so many words you wanted to say, so many things you still wanted to do.

You followed Yelena on her first mission ever since you passed. Natasha had requested to accompany her sister because she thought she could use familial reassurance. On the quinjet to Panama for a recon job, Yelena kept to herself in the corner as her teammates chatted away, occasionally picking at the loose thread in her gloves. It was a habit of hers to calm her nerves, and after you started noticing it and replaced the habit with a hand over hers, the thread-picking just didn’t seem to work as well anymore. She never picked at it until today.

“Yoga has many mental and physical benefits that will only manifest over a prolonged period of practice. You haven’t even done it for a week!”

Yelena puffed some air out of her nose. “Well, you know, I’m very impatient and punching sandbags feels better. Besides, I guarantee you’re only doing this because you’re reading that book anyway. You’ll get bored enough.” She teased.

“Excuse me?” You feigned offended and shook off her arm around your shoulder. “I find Thich Nhat Hanh’s words help me, okay? The soul is just like a body, Lena. You need to exercise it, but you also need to let it rest.”

“Oh yeah? What happens after you die then? Do you keep exercising and resting your soul? For eternity?”

“You reincarnate into another life, of course. 49 days after you die. You’re born into a new life, all memories of your old life gone and you start anew.”

Yelena smiled, listening to you talk.

“Today is 49 days since Y/N died.” She said.

Nat only looked at her, pursed her lips, and took her hand.

She knew it was a bad idea, throwing herself back into the field when her wounds were still half-open and bleeding. The job went askew and ended in a confrontation with the enemy, which none of them anticipated, but were mildly prepared for.

At first Yelena held her ground. Her training and muscle memory allowed her to take the first wave of guards down with ease. But then the gunfire kept coming and only got louder, then a grenade went off. Her eyes burned from the scattered dust and she could barely see. Her head was spinning and she had tears in her eyes. There was incessant ring in her ears, and the comm line went flat.

She found a broken wall she could take cover from and made herself as small as possible. She pressed her hands hard onto her ears to block out the ringing, to no avail.

Yelena closed her eyes and pressed harder into her ears, tucking her head into her knees. Gunfire was still going off behind her hands and it was getting harder to breathe.

Then, it was all a blur. It may have been the dizziness or the sharp ringing in her head that paralyzed her, but she remembered her sister kneeling in front of her, shouting inaudible words before pulling her up towards an escape.

Her legs started picking up the pace when they neared the quinjet, the tears that fell silently now flowed down in streams. She collapsed onto one of the benches, and let out distressing moans, the pain of a grenade shrapnel in her leg long forgotten.

“It was my fault!” She shouted.

“Yelena, please—“

“It was my fault that Y/N died! It’s all MY FAULT!”

Once they arrived at the Compound, Nat took her to the infirmary where they treated her wounds. Yelena was passed out from exhaustion and slept through the night there.

Steve agreed with Nat to let her sister rest until she was in a better state of mind before she returned to the field.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You didn’t remember how you died very well. You didn’t understand why. It must have had something to do with your job, you supposed, because it was the only way you could have been in danger. The only thing you remembered was excruciating pain all over, the kind that tore at your flesh and lingered down to your bones, until the sensation stopped, and suddenly you couldn’t feel anything else at all.

You didn’t understand why Yelena was tormenting herself the way she did. After that mission she didn’t leave her room for a week. She went back to sleeping all day, and only leaving her room when she needed to use the bathroom, and only eating when Natasha had to physically force food down her throat. Whatever it was that caused your death, you were sure Yelena couldn’t have anything to do with. Even if she did, you didn’t think you had the strength to hate her. You could never hate her for anything.

You sat in the bed beside her, watching her feeble form curl up like a fragile silkworm, her glossy eyes staring past you unblinking. You reached out and caressed the baby hairs that fell over her eyes.

You always did that when you cuddled after a fight, after Yelena would knock on your door and present you with her adorable frown before she launched herself into your arms, or you would quietly sit next to her and say that you’re sorry. Yelena and you didn’t fight often, most of the disagreements you had were childish squabbles after which you’d be snuggled up to her while watching a movie within a day or two.

But the most heated fight you had with her, you never made up. Words were thrown at each other that neither of you meant. You called her selfish, she said you needed to sort out your separation anxiety, as if she didn’t have plenty of her own, you hurled insults at her, swearing in your mind that your relationship would never be the same again. She wanted to leave on a dangerous mission to find her birth parents, one that could take years.

“I hope one day you look in the mirror, and realize what a hypocrite you are.“

Those were the last words you said to her before you left for the mission. That mission from which you never returned.

“I would tell you to get up, but do you even listen to anyone anymore?” Her sister entered the room.

“Go away.” Yelena muttered, pulling the covers to her nose.

“Мне больно видеть тебя такой, сестра.” (It hurts me to see you this way, sister.)

“Then don’t look.” She deadpanned.

Nat sighed in defeat. “You can’t keep living like this, Yelena. Y/N wouldn’t want you to—“

“Don’t.” Yelena gritted and sat up. “Don’t you dare.”

“You’re right. I don’t know how painful it is for you, but please, let me help you.” Nat begged, her voice just above a whisper. She let her fingers combed through Yelena’s head as she waited for a response that never came.

“Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Belova. Your presence is requested in the main conference room.” Suddenly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded.

“Can this wait?” Natasha sighed.

“This concerns Ms. Y/L/N.”

Yelena’s reluctance ultimately did not win against her desperation. Her feet dragged her along, but her mind tried its hardest to pull her back. What if it hurts me? Nonetheless, whatever it is, I have to know. She owed you that much.

Tony Stark was the only one in the room when she and Natasha arrived. He was pacing around slowly with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his thick eyebrows creased over and appeared bigger than usual, which made Yelena all the more anxious.

“What is it, Tony?” Nat asked.

A beat. “We managed to recover the black box from the quinjet Y/N flew in during her last mission. I apologize in advance for having watched it, Little Widow, but I had to make sure it was real.”

Yelena swallowed a lump in her throat. “Show it to me.”

Tony nodded, and projected a video onto the hologram screen. He passed her on his way to the door, handing her the remote.

“We’ll give you a minute.” Nat said softly, smiling before following Tony outside.

The door clicked shut.

Yelena took a sharp breath, and clicked play.

Your face was something she never thought she would see again. She let out a short sob as she watched your eyebrows strain and you tried to steer the quinjet on a straight path.

“Whoever’s seeing this, this message is for Yelena Belova. If you’re Yelena, hi.”

She smiled tearfully, watching you wave at the camera.

“So this is probably not the best way to be saying this, but I don’t think I have a choice right now so this is all you get, Lena.” You said before pulling on the yoke with a grunt. The sky looped around you through the window.

“I’m sorry for what I said. You’re right, I do need to sort out my separation anxiety, but not gonna lie, when you said that, it kinda hurt. A little bit. Because . . . the only person I feel anxious separating from is you.

I mean, you’re kinda the only person I would feel a little be sad for if you died. Just a little bit. And that’s a lot coming from me!”

You chuckled, but soon your smile dropped and you checked the board. “Aaaand the propeller is on fire, great. This is not how I intend to go out, at all.”

Your gaze flickered to where the camera was, as you slowly let go of the trembling yoke. “I’m sorry I held you back. I want you to find your parents, and I know you, you’ll find them. I’m sorry it took me about to die to give you my blessing.”

“Warning: Unable to control flight path. Warning: Rapid change in altitude.”

The alarm started blaring, yet you only exhaled deeply, and leaned back into your seat.

“I won’t make it out of this alive. So, I guess I’ll say it one last time. I love you, Yelena. Knowing you has been the best part of my life. I’m sorry.”

The video cut off. Yelena staggered back against the desk and heaved. Her chest tightened and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t even notice how loud her sobs were until she felt her sister wrap her tightly in her arms, holding her up because she wasn’t strong enough anymore.

You stood by them, wiping away a tear that had fallen, and smiled. You didn’t understand why you’ve been lingering here, but now you understood. It was to see Yelena find closure and forgive herself.

Now you understood. Now, you were free.

[lazyalani]

| Sanzu Haruchiyo × [F!Reader]

| Comfort

| angst, bonten, cursings, death, sanzu breaks down, koko and sanzu friendship? sanzu is traumatized :(

| Summary: Koko accidentally hits a sensitive nerve and everything comes crashing back down on Sanzu.

| Tokyo Revengers Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

"What the hell is wrong with your necklace, Koko? BAHAHAHA! It looks like junk!" Sanzu bursted out laughing, pointing his finger at his co-worker's necklace.

"Real mature, pinky." Ran stated.

"Real original, Jose Rizal." Sanzu retorted.

"Who the fuck is that--"

Koko immediately changed moods from proudly showing off his necklace to wanting to bash the strawberry's head in Takeomi's dirty toilet.

"Oh yeah? What's wrong with your fucking bracelet, then? It looks trash--" Koko got cut off by Rindou's horrified yell.

"Koko!"

Koko irritatedly looked at him. "What?!"

Ran and Takeomi instantly turned to look at Sanzu's reaction, hoping he wouldn't snap.

Sanzu's face that turned blank earlier suddenly formed a big smile as he just laughed and turned to walk away from them.

"You guys act as if he really would get offended, look at that bastard laughing!" Koko exclaimed.

"HAHAHAHAHA--"

"Can you hear him?! That little shit's really crazy--"

"HAHAHA-"

"Haru!" You called out to your boyfriend.

"Geez, I can hear you, you know? You need to stop screaming out of nowhere." He replied.

You just giggled and took his wrist, placing a certain item.

Sanzu blinked and inspected it. "A bracelet? Is there an ocassion? Did I forget it's my birthday again? But why a bracelet-- pink at that." He checked out the date on his phone.

You laughed at him. "No! Silly, is it bad that I just want to give you a present? And hey, pink suits you, okay? Just wear it for me everytime, alright?? It's a symbol of our love and loyalty!" You held out your pinky.

He sighed and wrapped his pinky around yours. "Alright, I promise. This is really cringey though."

"I love you too!"

"--HAHAHAhahaha..." His laughs slowly turned into sobs as he shut the door of his room.

"Ahh.... It hurts. Fuck." He slid down beside his bed, holding his head as tears fell down his face. He didn't know why. Or maybe he did.

"Why does it hurt? [Name]? make it stop, please." He looked at your picture on his bedside table. However, his heart ached more.

It was your picture afterall, your Funeral Picture.

He started slapping his own head, crying hysterically and stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulders. He looked up. It was Koko, staring down at him with a grim look on his face.

"Hey, Rindou told me.. about it, and I... I'm sorry, man." Sanzu just stared at him.

"I know it hurts, I do. The feeling of losing someone you love, it makes your heart bleed non-stop. You don't have to keep it all in, you know? It's better to let it all out. The emotions you keep deep inside you, it's better to let it free. I'm not saying you should forget her, rather, I'm saying to just accept what had happened and love her freely without keeping those negative thoughts and emotions away when you think of her. That way, instead of being in pain when thinking of her, you'll feel calmness and free. We might be criminals, but we care for each other you know? Even just a little. Afterall, we're the only ones who accept each other despite being sick fucks."

Sanzu teared up at his words and cried again. This time, with comfort from a friend. Koko let out a small, small smile but stayed beside Sanzu.

Koko's presence was enough comfort for Sanzu, knowing they both understood each other.

Maybe, just maybe, Sanzu could let someone in again.

A sad but warm and free whisper crossed through the air to a certain soul of a woman.

"I'll be fine now, darling. I love you, my angel, my savior, my soulmate, my Y/N. You can rest now." He smiles.

And you smile with him.

[mellaithwen]

The Welsh lake no bird will ever fly over and 9 other dark myths from the waters of Wales

From WalesOnline - which as a website is guaranteed to almost always crash your computer from the sheer number of clickbait popups so I'm reposting the below to keep, and refer back to, without making my laptop sound like its full of bees... and to share with you of course, since it's spooky-season

by Nathan Bevan, senior reporter. 15 October 2021.

📷The remains of ancient forests on the Welsh coastline, linked to Cantre'r Gwaelod, the mythical ancient kingdom submerged under the waters of Cardigan Bay (Image: Keith Morris)

Wales is as famed for its breathtaking scenery as for its legends.

And some of those fantastical myths and fables have been hewn from the very landscape itself. Some tales are as tall as our most ancient oaks and as windswept as those undulating hills and vales.

But those born from its lakes, pools and rivers, like the ones which we're about to tell, are very deep and dark indeed....

Llyn Tegid

📷 Llyn Tegid is home to Wales' answer to Nessie (Image: Getty Images/iStockphoto)

According to legend, Tegid Foel had a fine palace now underneath the lake and lived a life of opulence and excess. He also had a reputation for cruelty and greed. During a lavish feast he had employed a harpist to entertain his guests. As he played, he thought he heard a quiet voice behind him whispering in his ear “vengeance will come”. After playing, he left the palace and fell asleep nearby. When he woke, he looked out on an entirely new landscape, now full of water, with the palace nowhere to be seen.

The Afanc Lake monster

People in Betws-y-coed tell the tale of a monster in nearby Llyn-yr-Afanc, which is sometimes referred to as the Welsh Loch Ness Monster.

The Afanc is said to have taken the form of a crocodile, giant beaver and a demon and was said to attack then eat anyone who entered its waters.

One tale said that the wild thrashings of the Afanc caused flooding which drowned all the people of Britain save for two, named Dwyfan and Dwyfach.

Other sites also lay claim to be home to the Afanc, among them Llyn Llion and Llyn Barfog.

Pistyll Rhaeadr Falls

Another legend that involves good triumphing over evil is that of the Dragon of Llanrhaeadr at Rhaeadr Falls in Powys.

It concerns a winged snake called a Gwybr that lived in the lake above the falls which would fly down to terrorise the villages below.

However, the canny villagers mocked-up their own dragon to trick the Gwybr and, upon attacking it, the creature impaled itself on spikes hidden therein. thus allowing the villagers to live in peace.

The Lady of the Lake

📷 Llyn y Fan Fach (Image: Creative commons/ Flickr/ Angel Ganev)

The story goes that it was at Llyn y Fan Fach, a remote lake in the Black Mountains, where a young farmer named Gwyn won and then tragically lost the love of his life.

He fell in love with a beautiful woman who emerged from the water and agreed to marry him but warned him she would leave him forever if he hit her three times.

They lived happily for many years and had three sons, but after Gwyn struck her once for laughing during a funeral and again for crying at a wedding, an accidental third meant she disappeared into the lake never to been seen by him again.

She would sometimes re-appear to her sons and teach them the powers of healing with herbs and plants.

They became known as the Physicians of Myddfai and some of their ancient remedies have survived and are in the Red Book of Hergest, one of Wales' most important medieval manuscripts.

Cadair Idris

One of Wales' most iconic peaks, standing in southern Snowdonia, its name directly translates as Idris' Chair in reference to the mythical giant who once used the mountain as his throne. There are numerous stories and legends associated with the mountain and Idris.

A few of the nearby lakes - such as Tal-y-llyn - are reputed to be bottomless, and those who venture up the mountain at night should take heed before sleeping on its slopes. It is said that those who sleep on the mountain will awaken either as a madman, a poet or, indeed, never wake again.

Cantre'r Gwaelod

The kingdom of Maes Gwyddno, more commonly known as Cantre’r Gwaelod, is said to lie under the Irish Sea in Cardigan Bay. It was ruled by Gwyddno Garanhir (Longshanks), born circa 520AD, and the land was said to be extremely fertile but depended on a dyke to protect it from the sea.

The dyke had sluice gates which were opened at low tide to drain the water from the land, and closed as the tide returned. But, around 600AD, a storm blew up from the south west and the appointed watchman was too drunk to notice the and to shut the gates. The water gates were left open, and the sea rushed in to flood the land of the Cantref, drowning more than 16 villages.

The haunted shores of Rhossili Bay

It might be one of Britain’s best beaches, but beautiful Rhossili on the tip of Gower is also a hotspot for paranormal activity.

There have reportedly been sightings of a mysterious couple in Edwardian dress at the National Trust-owned Rhossili Rectory, while, supposedly, the spirit of Reverend John Lucas can be seen galloping across the sand on his ghostly horse.

The Reverend shares the beach with Squire Mansell who, on stormy nights, is said to search the sands for buried gold in a carriage drawn by four ghostly horses.

The great flood of Gorslas and Llyn Llech Owain

There was once said to be a magic well on the mountain Mynydd Mawr, which lies just north of Gorslas. The entrance to this well was protected with a huge flagstone, which was watched over by a local farmer.

One day, a thirsty young man named Owain came by the well and removed the stone so he and his horse could drink the water within. The pair then fell asleep shortly after without covering the well back up. Masses of flowing water then flooded the land, which was only stopped after Owain galloped around it on horseback, using his magic to contain it. The resultant lake on Mynydd Mawr was hence named Llyn Llech Owain (the lake of Owain’s stone slab).

Cwm Idwal

📷Cwm Idwal, Snowdonia (Image: Les Haines/Flickr)

The lake in this valley is named after a young man who died a tragic and unnecessary death. Legend has it that Idwal was the son of the 12th century prince Owain Gwynedd.

Beautiful and clever, Idwal did not have the makings of a warrior and was sent away to stay in safety with his uncle, Nefydd, while his father was at war. Nefydd was a jealous man whose own son Rhun, in contrast to Idwal, was witless and dull. Torn apart by bitterness, Nefydd took the boys for a walk by the lake and pushed Idwal in, drowning him.

Owain was devastated and named the lake after his son. Legend has it that the birds that inhabited the lake flew away in sorrow, never to soar above it again.

Tyno Helig, the Welsh Atlantis

One of the legends associated with the Great Orme, the massive headland to the west of Llandudno Bay, is that of Llys Helig (Helig's Palace) and the lost land of Tyno Helig.

The legends surrounds the daughter of Helig ap Glannawg, the prince of Tyno Helig, who is said to have lived in the sixth century. His daughter Gwendud had a cruel heart and when she was courted by Tahal, the son of a Snowdonian baron, refused to marry him unless he acquired the golden collar worn by noblemen of the time.

Tahal murdered a Scottish chieftain, stealing his collar, and the two were wed. But on the wedding day the ghost of the murdered Scots appeared, cursing the family. Some generations later, during a night of revelry in the royal palace, sea water began pouring into the cellar before completely submerged the palace. Many believed this was the revenge the Scottish chieftain had promised.

[sentinelpri]

yoo I was wondering if I could request something with tfa optimus having a crush on a reader who’s like,, a bot higher up in command if that makes sense? maybe they’re an accomplished warrior/well known commander or something? I don’t have a preference for hcs/scenarios or w/e so it’s completely your choice!

Hey! Sounds like a great request, here’s some headcanons my friend:

As soon as I read this, I was like oh my God, Ultra Magnus’s kid. Imagine he had y/n with whoever you want, not really concerned with that, but yeah.

You’re the same age as Optimus, but you were always very sheltered due to Ultra Magnus wanting to keep you protected from his enemies, so you received private training to join the Elite Guatd and were very well guarded from the public until then after Ultra Magnus’s carrier died in battle.

Optimus never gets the chance to interact with you much, but he’s seen you a lot considering that Ultra Magnus actually trusts you. You’re a beautiful, strong-looking femme with bright optics and a (f/c) and white paint-job. Usually, you’re with Ultra Magnus or with Sentinel Prime and his squad, but something he notices about you is that you’re very... Kind and casual.

He figures it’s something about having been raised by someone so formal and stiff that you’ve developed such an easygoing personality, but you do get rather serious when it’s appropriate. You’re intelligent, an amazing strategist, and brilliant in combat- he can’t help but admire you when he sees you around Ultra Magnus during his academy training.

What starts as interest and admiration turns into adoration and respect when Elita-One has her accident. You object in court when Sentinel pins the blame on him, and though Ultra Magnus quickly tells you to stand down, he appreciates the gesture.

There had always been a tension between the two of you that he couldn’t explain, his feelings aside. Any time he went to stare at you, you were already looking at him, your gaze intense. Any time he would walk by you, you seem to touch him somehow- a servo on his shoulder, digits brushing past his back, shoulder bumping into his- something. He isn’t sure if it’s accidental or not.

You don’t really see each other after that court hearing though- you join the Elite Guard and become a Prime alongside Sentinel, whose guts you hate, and he becomes a space bridge technician. His interest fades for a bit once he crashes on earth and starts his battle against the Decepticons there with his team, but he can’t help thinking of you every once in a while and blushing whenever one of the other bots mentions your name in passing. He finds himself missing having you around sometimes, even if you didn’t get to interact much. 

Even when Sentinel and the Elite Guard show up on earth, you don’t come with them, occupied with business matters back on Cybertron. 

After the attack on Ultra Magnus, as pissed off as Sentinel Prime is about it and as much as Sentinel Prime tries to appeal the decision in court, you’re appointed the new Magnus. The final battle with the Decepticons happens, and Optimus- for the first time in a long time- returns to Cybertron to give you back your father’s hammer, which Sentinel had tried to take from you behind your back, only for Ratchet to go to Cybertron, take it, and bring it back to him.

He enters your quarters and finds you working on preparations for Ultra Magnus’s and Prowl’s funerals, as Ultra Magnus’s injuries were too great for him to survive and Prowl had sacrificed himself in the final battle. Optimus was just grateful that you were making sure both were given a proper service even though you had so many other things to be juggling as the new Magnus.

It was late, so you were alone working since you didn’t like having guards around you, and he had come by himself.

He apologizes for having kept the hammer for so long and offers it back, only for you to tell him that it’s better suited to him anyways- you wouldn’t use it, it brings back too many memories of your father who you’re still grieving and you have your own weapons that you’re already accustomed to. After that, he finds himself watching you work, utterly captivated by how much you’ve matured in what felt like such a short amount of time. 

He’s unsure of what to do and doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, so he turns to leave, only for you to tell him to sit down at your work table- you say you have some high quality oil you’ve been dying to share with somebot, and Sentinel just doesn’t make the cut, Jazz is still on earth, etc.

Optimus agrees and sits down across from you, both of you with your own container of oil. The two of you are restrained and handle your drinks well, so neither of you overdo it, and all the oil does is relax the mood. After a few moments of silence, you finally come out with it.

“I think you’ve done well despite everything you’ve been through. How would you feel about becoming the commander of the Elite Guard?”

He’s baffled, obviously. How was he to go from being shunned for Elita’s accident to commander of the Elite Guard? How would Cybertron react? “What about Sentinel?”

“My father always had a soft spot for him, so I won’t kick him to the streets, but I don’t want him having such a huge responsibility. I’m thinking about giving him a position as my guard.”

You’d never liked having guards around, but it was a fair idea. Ultra Magnus would’ve preferred you had one, and the one time he was unguarded, Shockwave took advantage. 

“Do you think I’m ready for such a huge responsibility more than Sentinel Prime?”

“I consider us equals,” You admit. Optimus is taken aback by it, but finds himself reflecting; maybe he’s a bit too relaxed from all the drinks, but maybe he’s also become more aware of just how short life is and how much more honest he needs to be with himself and others due to the recent events. 

So, he decides to tell you the truth. “If you consider us equals, then... I’d like to tell you something important. Honestly.”

“Go on.”

“You’ve always been above me, so I haven’t felt it appropriate- even now, it feels questionable, but I feel like you need to know, and life is so short... I’ve always been fond of you, (y/n).”

“I’m fond of you, too, Optimus.”

“No, I mean... I’ve developed feelings for you, over the stellar cycles. Ever since we were in training.”

You don’t even hesitate, LMAO. You just lean across the table and push everything to the side so you can grab him by his shoulders and slam his lips against yours. 

Apparently, he wasn’t imagining the tension after all-

[toshigimmemilk]

genre: ANGST w/ a lil comfort (clues towards that reader will get better with love and time)

warning: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

characters: !timeskip iwaizumi x !gn reader (past)

!timeskip osamu miya x !gn reader (present)

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ghostin by ariana grande ───────────────⚪────────────── ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► 1:17 / 3:48 ⠀ ───○ 🔊 ɴᴇxᴛ ᴜᴘ: dancing with your ghost by sasha alex sloan - a/n: i hope u guys like this. this was originally supposed to be ushijima instead of iwa. anyways im trying to better my writing so pls lmk what y’all thinking. sorry for the bad writing.

is it fair that you should feel like this, especially at night while lying next to your current lover thinking of a figure of your past, someone you loved so long ago? the tear soaked pillow that muffled each sob would disagree.

iwaizumi hajime was it for you. he was the one you’d been waiting for but some would say, right person wrong time, and boy were they right.

you hate thinking about that night. the night he left you so suddenly, cold and alone and each night you cried, you cried enough to fill olympic sized pools. you wish he had left you for someone else, that would be better than whatever this is, you thought. iwaizumi had left you to get food when the crash happened. it’s all my fault you thought, i should’ve just went to sleep hungry. the trip to the hospital was a blur and all those night spent in the hospital pleading to the celestial beings up above to save the love of your life who was now clinging to life with bare chances of opening his eyes again.

the fateful incident would end up being devastating for you both. a lively household once filled with love and laughter turned into a prison cell where only quiet sobs were the only thing that rang through the house.

the funeral was a haze. soft cries and whispers of sorry’s that meant nothing to you. it won’t bring him back.

every moment and every item reminded you of him. you hadn’t slept in his part of the bed, his reminder from that night still left in the bed, ruffled bedsheets, a used towel on the nightstand and a pillow that smelled like him. you hadn’t even dared to go near that side, too afraid that if you touched that too, it will also leave you.

too afraid to open his closet and see his clothes, his jersey, and his shoes. how cruel, you thought. how cruel was it that you have to be reminded of him constantly and your body and mind didn’t want to do anything to change that.

too afraid to move on and too afraid that he might be sad that you’re moved on from him and his love. it’s what he would want, he would want you to be happy, that’s what they all said but was that really true? you told yourself that there was no one else for you, only hajime. you were so accustomed to his love and now that it’s gone, were you even capable of loving someone else, someone that’s not him? the idea seemed impossible to you.

that fact couldn’t be more true, even years later as you laid in bed with another but still thinking of your former lover. nights seemed to be the hardest, it always is. all those hidden feelings and emotions always seem to pour out at night.

there was nothing you could do to stop the tears, sobbing quietly as you grazed your fingers over the face of the man that laid next to you. his face relaxed as he slept but it felt cruel to torture him like that, it wasn’t fair of him to carry a burden like this and shifting your body to face the other side you couldn’t help but cover your mouth as another sob escape your lips.

osamu miya was a force to be reckoned with. he loved you so hard and proud that the guilt in your heart only increased thinking about it. he’s done so much to fix you, carrying your baggage as if it was his own and helped you so much when he didn’t have to.

you met osamu while running errands, earlier that day, feeling too depressed to even get out of bed you’d finally decided that you should get your life back on track. deciding to go get some groceries to finally start making meals for one, crying some more at the thought that there will be no more shared breakfasts, no more staying cuddled in bed and rush hour in the house but just you and your loneliness.

osamu had accidentally bumped into you causing you to drop your oranges all over the floor, the sight causing your lips to wobble and he took note of this as soon as he looked at your face. “hey hey it’s okay. ‘m sorry. didn’t see ya”. you sighed, just what i needed you thought. you excused yourself from him but chasing you down he convinced you to come and eat at his restaurant, onigri miya but much to your reluctance, he still dragged you there.

from then on, osamu would try to invite you to come to his restaurant. you bumped into him frequently and soon you started to become friends but it was still hard for you to go out there and socialize after what you had been through.

osamu was there. he was there on your worst days. he was there when you told him, how you lost a half of you to date, he was there at nights to hold you while you cried. he was there to wipe your tears away. he was there. he fed you on days when you were struggling. he cleaned you up on days when you couldn’t get out of bed. he sat you down next to the tub and washed your hair. he was there.

you soon started to open your heart to him but you were still afraid to take that small leap, afraid that if you jumped and there was no safety net, who was going to catch you?

he told you about himself, much more than you had ever known and heard about him through his brother. he was funny, kind, very caring and he was just perfectly himself.

you should be moved on by now, osamu thought as he watched you turn over and hearing you muffled sobs. every night he’d pretend to sleep so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed to cry and each night he wanted to reach out and hold you but something in him held him back. he just let you let it all out.

he knows that you know about him knowing how you cry at night. he knows that you wish that iwaizumi was here in his place, and after everything that you both had been through there was so much he wanted to do with you, so much love he wanted to give you and so many things he wanted to show you.

you were so grateful for osamu. he’s been so good to you, so understanding about you and you were guilty and afraid that you were putting him through so much than he signed up for. you knew how much osamu’s heart would break everytime he heard you cry and you wished that he would admit how much it hurts him and how much pain it’s causing him too.

osamu knew you hated yourself so much for putting him through all this trouble but he was okay with waiting. he will be there for you as long as you need him even if you cried for a man that no longer exists in your own shared bed.

he knows that he will be there for you no matter how long it will take, a little bit of baggage is nothing for him compared to how much he truly loves you.

ending notes: this wasn’t that good ik. i promise i’ll get better. also i used the lyrics and references. pls those two songs has me so depressed on bag nights. anyways love y’all 💗