#aw sweet a baby i will care for it as though i myself delivered it

[phoenixkaptain]

Thinkin bout Cryptid Luke…

A few ideas I have…

Luke in Legends’ continuity rebuilt the Jedi Order, but in Disney’s continuity, he did not. And while I strongly dislike Disney’s version of Old Luke, I do like the idea in my head of a lone Jedi operating without any Order (which is not what Disney’s Luke is, so I guess there’s nothing really there…)

Like, in the days of the Old Republic, you had to ask the Jedi for help. The Jedi sometimes stumbled on problems, yes, but they mostly responded to cries for help.

Luke doesn’t have that option. Yes, he can respond when a Force Sensitive calls for help with magic rocks, but for the most part, he is just wandering. He is going where the Force guides him. He is just… not there, blink, there.

I like the idea that things go to shit, Luke shows up in his ominous black hood, Luke solves the problem, then Luke vanishes as quickly as he came, with no trace he was ever there.

However, side idea: Luke travels with his motley crew of children. But, THEY are ALSO crypids!

Like, you are a citizen of some planet. You are just standing on a corner, waiting for a space bus, looking at a space newspaper, and you glance up and see an ominously cloaked figure standing on the opposite side of the street. You cannot make out any features. It is dark out, and he is standing beneath a space streetlight, but all the light does is cast his face further into shadow.

Quickly, you look back down, hoping that the ominous shape across the street hasn’t noticed you. You feel a chill run down your spine. You sneak a glance back up, only to find that there is another black-cloaked figure, standing right beside the first. It is half the first’s height, but it’s also cloaked in darkness.

You look down again. You hear a noise, like moving fabric, and look back up, worried the pair is approaching, only to find another small, ominous shape has joined the first two beneath the space streetlight. You can’t bring yourself to look away, and so watch as another black-cloaked figure emerges from behind the tallest one, the first one.

Finally, the shape moves as though inclining its head. You feel your heart begin to race as it slowly turns to face you, and the streetlights finally illuminate a mouth. A mouth that is baring a smile full of sharp teeth, right towards you.

A space bus suddenly drives past, blocking your view for only a second. But, as the bus passes, the four shapes are gone. Vanished without a trace. The streetlight goes out. You decide that you should never smoke death sticks again, despite the fact that you have never smoked a single death stick in your entire life.

(Luke was going to the grocery store with his children. He was just trying to wait for them to catch up, since he got lost in thought trying to figure out how many vegetables to get. He noticed that the person across the street seemed scared, and so tried to smile reassuringly, but there was a noise in a back alley that he and his three students darted over to check out. It’s a cat. The four of them are very pleased.)

Or, I like to think that there’s a rumour that if you say “Skywalker” in an Imperial base, Luke Skywalker will show up and destroy the place. Most of the Stormtroopers and older people are like “psh, yeah right. Jedi can’t hear their name across the galaxy.”

But, slowly but surely, the whispers of Skywalker’s name are dying out. Because he. Keeps. On. Appearing. Right after anyone says his name, even if it’s in a whisper.

(Luke just so happened to be in the area. It was the will of the Force ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ )

There are so many options for Cryptid Luke! So! Many! Options! This man does not know how to enter a conversation like a normal person, he just appears from the shadows and scares people. Most of the galaxy think he’s just a myth created by the New Republic and the Empire. The leftover Jedi themselves think that he’s just a myth made up by the New Republic and the Empire. Nobody believes he exists aside from the people who have seen him, but even they are half convinced that they made him up.

I just would like Luke to randomly show up, kill some Imperials, scare some other Imperials, adopt another child, then go home. It’s my ideal.

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Guy Quotes

silly pizza manヽ(*＾ω＾*)ﾉ @capitalisticveins @miya-akiko he has been delivered!!

“You’re a jerk. Well. I like jerks.”

“We can’t be getting outta bed before 10, that’d be crazy, that would violating countless labor laws.”

“Oh, you are getting close. Hi! Hi baby. I love youuu~”

“I missed you. I always miss you. Days are long when you’re not around.”

“Jealousy’s a disease, get well soon to those bitches.“

“Come on, take my hand. Well if you don’t, I mean you could get lost on the way. Anything could happen.”

“I am not a menace. I am the menace. And I am your menace. I love you, honey.”

“I don’t need all that shit. I love you just like this. Eye rolling and grumbling is a totally valid love language.”

“Dishes? Dishes? You want me to do dishes? […] Honey, I like a little degradation as much as the next guy, but can’t you just put me on a leash instead, like a normal couple?”

“Let go of me, ahhhh I’m being repressed!”

“Oh, no, no I’m kidding, come here, don’t pout. Yes you are, you are pouting. It’s cute.“

“I vacillate wildly between either looking like an Adonis sent down like a gift or a literal gremlin that couldn’t pull numbers if his life depended on it.”

“No, you smile plenty. And it’s a beautiful smile when you grace me with it. It’s special when you smile.”

“But you are a softy with me. And the other people you care about. You feel things deep. That’s not a bad thing.”

“And how exactly do you expect to keep me in this bed now that you’ve got me here, hmm? Thought about that? Ooohhh gon’ tie me down, fifty shades of honey oooo~”

“You look really cute bundled up in bed like that. Shut up, yes you do. My cute little grumpyface. Aw is my grumpyface mad at me?“

“Aw. That’s so sweet. Who are you and what have you done with my lover? [hit] Ow, okay, there you are.”

“What do you mean you’re gross? You’re not gross, you’re amazing.”

“Thank you for seeing something in me. Something that mattered. Nah, I was talking about my ass.”

“You know wordplay reminds me of? Tongue-twisters! You know what tongue-twisters remind me of? Tongue-kissing, let’s explore that topic shall we—ow ow ow”

“That’s not nothing, that’s called quality time honey.”

“I only wanna be supine if I’m being supine with you!”

“I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me~”

“Ew, you can’t give me a forehead kiss, that’s too sweet! Who are you? Why would you do that, being all tender and sweet, that’s gross, you’re gross. No, don’t go. I like you tender and sweet and gross.”

“You have a wonderful hand. It does exquisite work. Ooo don’t make a boy a promise, you betta use it to cover this mouth, fifty one shades of honey ooo~.”

“Making my stupid jokes isn’t as fun without you rolling your eyes and pretending to hate it.”

“Is that why you put up with my memes and shit? Cause I got a big dick and a great ass?”

“I’ll never be sorry for a chance to spend a day at your side.”

“—eh, “Buy Low”, “Start Low”, what’s the difference? You say tomato, I say I wanna put my head between your thighs, it’s semantics.”

“It’s about your thighs wrapped around my head like you’re trying to crush a watermelon. Aw, come on, I’m made of tough stuff. Or not, but hey, that’s a hell of a way to go.”

“You know what this means though, right? Oh my god, they were roommates!”

“Honeybabydarling.”

“But I’ll restrain myself. At least until I can convince you to restrain me. Preferably to our bed. Unnhh.”

“I want to make you squirm under the touch of my fingers and the heat of my mouth and the weight of my tight, straining body pressed flush against yours. And then at some point you can shampoo my hair, cause that always feels nice.”

“Okay, okay, very serious… Canasta. Nasty canasty. Ow—!”

“I’m ready for instruction, professor. Mmm. Mmhmm. I think you’ll find I’m a very hands-on learner. Unnhhh.”

“Do they have to match suite kiss me. Hmm? No, I asked do they have to match suite kiss me, like does the whole canasta kiss me have to be the same suite please kiss me. I don’t know what you mean kiss me. […] kiss me, kiss me really hard.”

“Because no one’s gonna tell me I’m too sexy to be who I am.”

“And maybe I wanna get some, I don’t know! Who said that? Wait— who said that? Wait, who was that? I mean that wasn’t me… shit.”

“That’s my brain, and the only thing that’s gonna wake it up is some kisses. Slow sexy kisses. With tongue. For. You know. Kinetic energy. Transfer. In my mouth. Our mouths.”

“Thank you, honey. I don’t know. For a lot of things. For the water. For hanging out with me. For putting up with me. For being so hot and sexy. I repeat, for putting up with me.”

“I’d lick it off the fucking floor at this point if that’s what you want— anything. That’d be pretty fucking hot actually.”

“I love you, hun.”

“Ah, mm, no. I saw the smile. Yes you did, you can’t hide it from me.”

“Anyway, I am half naked. You are very mean. That’s very hot. You and me honey ain’t nothing but mammals so, uh, whaddya say we do it like they do on discover channel, unhh? Well, you know, personally I was thinking a little less nature documentary and a little more battle bots, you know? Like, I want you to just fucking snap me like a twig!”

“Can’t steal what’s already yours. That’s why you can’t steal my heart cause it’s already yours. Do not groan at me!”

“With you, silence doesn’t feel bad. You looking at me doesn’t feel scary. It feels really good. Feeling seen by you feels good.”

[mollywog]

A list of people Katniss Prim’s-the-only-person-in-the-world-I'm-certain-I-love Everdeen loves (in the order mentioned in the text)

Prim

How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain I love?

Rue

Sing. My throat is tight with tears, hoarse from smoke and fatigue. But if this is Prim's, I mean, Rue's last request, I have to at least try. The song that comes to me is a simple lullaby, one we sing fretful, hungry babies to sleep with. It's old, very old I think. Made up long ago in our hills. What my music teacher calls a mountain air. But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece of time we call today.

[proceeds to sing a song]

The final lines are barely audible.

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

Peeta

It's like being home again, when they bring in the hopelessly mangled person from the mine explosion, or the woman in her third day of labor, or the famished child struggling against pneumonia and my mother and Prim, they wear that same look on their faces. Now is the time to run away to the woods, to hide in the trees until the patient is long gone and in another part of the Seam the hammers make the coffin.

But I'm held here both by the hovercraft walls and the same force that holds the loved ones of the dying. How often I've seen them, ringed around our kitchen table and I thought, Why don't they leave? Why do they stay to watch?

And now I know. It's because you have no choice.

* There are other instances- just sighting the first

Haymitch

I turn and see them all waiting in a big chamber at the end of the hall - Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna. My feet take off without hesitation. Maybe a victor should show more restraint, more superiority, especially when she knows this will be on tape, but I don't care. I run for them and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch's arms first. When he whispers in my ear, "Nice job, sweetheart," it doesn't sound sarcastic.

Additional Notes:

Katniss doesn’t talk about feeling a sense of debt to Haymitch, even though he continually helps keep her alive. This feels significant, and I choose to believe it’s because she considers him family

Haymitch is included in the running away from D12 scheme because she can’t leave him

After the bombing in D13 and failed propo she only wants to be comforted by Haymitch “because he loves Peeta, too.”

Gale

"I've heard worse," she says. "You've seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain."

Someone they love. The words numb my tongue as if it's been packed in snow coat.

Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say Ilove Gale? I don't know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I'm sure he doesn't remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it.

Madge

I nod and go straight to my room. I sit on the bed, knowing I will never write those letters. They will be like the speech I tried to write to honor Rue and Thresh in District 11. Things seemed clear in my head and even when I talked before the crowd, but the words never came out of the pen right. Besides, they were meant to go with embraces and kisses and a stroke of Prim's hair, a caress of Gale's face, a squeeze of Madge's hand. They cannot be delivered with a wooden box containing my cold, stiff body.

Too heartsick to cry, all I want is to curl up on the bed and sleep until we arrive in the Capitol tomorrow morning. But I have a mission. No, it's more than a mission. It's my dying wish. Keep Peeta alive. And as unlikely as it seems that I can achieve it in the face of the Capitol's anger, it's important that I be at the top of my game. This won't happen if I'm mourning for everyone I love back home. Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return.

Honorable Mention

(She at minimum cares about and feels responsible for these people - love could be implied.)

Mrs. Everdeen - Katniss loves Prim, Prim loves their mother, Katniss at minimum feels responsible for her mother if only for her sisters sake

The Hawthornes - She provided for their family from the woods after Gale starts work in the mines. They are included as part of her escape plan in CF. She gets Hazelle the job working for Haymitch when times are lean.

Finnick and Johanna - Come on! She doesn’t say as much, but she loves them, right?

District 12 - she altered the Lady the Goat story to protect people back home. Also Greasy Sae.

Cinna

Effie

Please add your thoughts!

* Inspired by this question

[procrastination-queenie]

Baby | JJK

Pairing: husband!au Jeon Jungkook x Wife!au reader.

Warning: c-section surgery, nothing too detailed. Baby fever. Very slight mention of smut. Fluff. The reader is a foreigner. Mentions of cultural differences.

The part written in italics is a flashback

Synopsis: You and Jungkook agreed not to have babies right away after your marriage, yet you find yourself witnessing a cute situation that leaves you thinking otherwise.

A/N: I am begging you guys for the gazillion time to please let me know what you think. Thanks in advance.😊

Word count: 4,178.

This part can be read as a continuation to Marry you.

Babies! Oh God! You cannot express how fed up you were because of that word. After you and Jungkook got married, your family members had nothing to talk about to you except babies. It's like they were pressuring you, well scratch that, they were, but unconsciously though. You couldn't blame them. You grew up in a culture that was not really open to the idea of "we are gonna wait a few years until we feel like we're ready."! Yeah, this ideology does not exist!

"Wait until when? I am not living more than I already am!" Your grandma would say, or "wait for what? Are you still getting to know each other after a five-year relationship?" Your grandpa would scoff, and your favourite one was "Hunny, are you kidding? You'll never be ready! No one is ever really ready! … You think me and my sister had you, kids, because we were ready?" Your auntie would say in disbelief laughing lightly at your logic with said sister, your mum, sitting next to her shaking her head in disappointment with a "can you believe her?" murmured in annoyance.

You didn't have the heart to blame your family that's how they were raised for generations, and for you to try and change their mind-set would be difficult, almost impossible. That is until you and Jungkook refused to talk upon the matter anymore saying that this is your life and you're free to do whatever you both agree on, only then did they stop nagging you; however, you knew they were not happy about it.

Jungkook on the other hand never really minded the idea of babies, in fact, if you told him that you were ready, he would gladly help you right away, if you know what I mean, but knowing your concerns, not only did he comfort you, but also respected that you were not there yet, mentally. You would always tell him "I sometimes think that I am still a baby, myself. How can I have one when I think like that!" He would chuckle, patting your head and cuddling you closely "Baby, it's okay. We don't need to have one right now! Why are you so worried about it?" He asked looking down at you since he was resting his chin on your head. "I mean, aren't you bothered about it? Don't you want to have your own child?" You pouted thinking that maybe you're holding one of Jungkook's wishes back which can make you feel that you're not good enough for him. "Well, baby, of course, I want a child, but I want to have it with you, and if you're not ready that's totally fine! I mean when I think about it, it is a huge deal, you're going to house a human being in your body for 9 long months, and your body would go through drastic changes, plus you'd have to not only take care of yourself but the baby growing inside you, as well!" Jungkook cradled you to his chest moving aside a lock of your hair behind your ear. "It's all amazing, but you're the one who's carrying a baby, I would never pressure you to do that if you're not ready!" He said looking into your eyes sincerely. "Oh, I love you so much!" You said giving him a few repetitive pecks on his lips. "How did I end up with such an amazing man!" Your lips barely meeting his, whispering before you closed the small gap between you, kissing him with all the passion and love you held for this wonderful husband of yours.

That all changed when one day you were at the hairdresser's getting a new hair cut. You were looking through your phone waiting for your turn until you noticed a woman entering the shop. She had this unusual aura to her, like something about her seemed to interest you, she walked around as if she had accomplished something amazing but wouldn't brag about it as if to let her accomplishment speak for itself. You understood why you felt that because minutes later, two identical accomplishments followed her suit. They were two identical boys who were probably 4 or 5 years of age. You were in awe when you saw them following their mummy, like lost puppies. They resembled her greatly, and behaved very well as if their mum promised to buy them Disneyland if they did. They stood next to her looking up at her as if she is their whole world.

For a moment you imagined that with Jungkook, and what would it feel like to have a baby in both of your lives. How would it feel to have a child of your own looking at you the way these boys looked at their mum.

For weeks to follow, you were almost obsessed with the twin boys you saw at the hair salon. How they dressed, how they behaved, how they sat obediently eating their sweets waiting for their mum to finish, how their mother would look at them through the mirror every once in a while to check on them, how they cutely complimented her saying that "mummy is the prettiest girl ever!" With wide eyes looking up in amazement and cute small sticky fingers from the sweets reaching up in the air in excitement. The whole thing kept repeating over and over in your head which led you to look up some photos of babies and reading more about them and what's new in the parenting world that parents try and apply with their kids. You even reached the point where you would stop at the babies section, racking through cute onesies, making Jungkook arch an eyebrow in amazement. "Are you pregnant or something?" He would ask eyeing your belly before looking up at your face trying to see what's going on inside your head. You would shake your head slightly before reluctantly letting go of the tiny baby clothes and taking Jungkook's hand to move to another department of the store.

Jungkook, too, could feel a change in your behaviour, like how you would gaze longingly at kids playing at the park when you had your picnics there, how you would pause to listen to a show that talks about babies and how to care for them, he even caught you reading a book about pregnancy. His heart skipped a beat when you went to visit your brother after his wife delivered a healthy baby girl; you kept holding her the whole time refusing to let anyone hold her unless it was your brother's wife because she needed to feed her. He even took a photo of you, you were looking at your niece so lovingly when you looked up at Jungkook smiling brightly as if she was your own. He put it as a background for his phone.

"Yaaah! If you want a baby that bad make one of your own!" Yoongi yelled playfully at Jungkook who wouldn't stop looking at the photo. "Ay! Don't pressure the kid." Namjoon said looking disappointedly at Yoongi for saying that. "Well, there's no pressure. It's just … I don't know y/n has been acting weird lately!" He took a last look at his phone's background before it displayed his worried features as he closed the screen. "What do you mean weird?" Jimin asked looking at Jungkook quizzically. "I don't know… it's… she'd stare at baby clothes when we go shopping even though there's no one we know who's going to give birth soon. I mean I could have brushed it off thinking that she wants to buy some as a gift or something, but no." Jungkook ruffled his black locks resting his elbows on his knees. "And you know she looks at them as if … as if she's imaging them on a certain baby, not the way she'd look at them as if inspecting the design or something, do you understand what I mean?" He looked up at his hyungs waiting for a confirmation that he's not imagining things. Namjoon nodded "you mean she inspecting the clothes as if she's buying it for her own baby, not just going through them?"

"YES!"Taehyung jumped at Jungkook's sudden outburst. "Sorry Hyung!" Jungkook muttered to Taehyung before focusing on Namjoon again. "Well, it's easy she wants a baby!" Hobi said shrugging and looking at Jungkook as if he's dumb and that this was as obvious as the sun. "No shit Sherlock! I know that. It's just she never said anything about it ." Jungkook was bewildered he didn't understand your sudden change of attitude, and if you had a change of heart about having a baby, then why didn't you tell him? "Just talk to her about it. See if she's ready or not, maybe she is, but something is holding her back, you never know!" Jin said patting Jungkook on the back. "we are definitely having a talk." Jungkook sighed lighting up his phone's screen to look lovingly at your photo holding your niece.

"Baby, you home?" Jungkook looked around the house for you while taking off his shoes and closing the door. "In here!" You answered from your bedroom. You heard his footsteps on the stairs knowing very well from the sound of it that he was skipping some. You rolled your eyes at your husband's child-like behaviour. "BABE!" He suddenly opened the door to your room, a huge smirk on his face as he stepped slowly towards you. "What? What's wrong? Why are you giving me that look?" You looked him up and down as if he's gone mental. Out of nowhere, he pounced on you like a cat making you put your book aside as you squirmed beneath him. "Oh my God, Kook get off. What's wrong with you!" You started laughing because he started leaving small pecks on your neck, and it was ticklish. "Tell me!" He suddenly stopped and looked into your eyes. "Tell you what?" You searched his face thinking that he might be drunk. "Tell me what you're not telling me!" He said, face getting closer to yours as you backed yours from his. "Are you drunk?" You said laughing, again. He was being unusual. "Nah, I am not. I just want to know what's wrong. Lately, you've been acting weird as if you're hiding something." He claimed as he sat beside you, taking you in his arms as your upper half laid on his bent knee; this was your position when you both had deep talks, he'd let you rest your back on his bent knee as he held you closely, usually playing with your hair locks. "You keep on checking baby clothes whenever we go shopping, you're reading a book about pregnancy and parenting, you listen to anything related to babies on the T.V. are you not telling me something?" He asked with concern filling his doe eyes as he caressed your cheek. "I … I've..." You sighed closing your eyes; words were not getting out of your mouth. "What? What is it baby? You can tell me." His thumb brushed your cheek in a soft motion encouraging you to speak up. "I … I want a baby." You said out of nowhere and looked at Jungkook to see his reaction. "Well, baby that's great. You know I don't mind, then what stopped you from telling me?" Jungkook flashed you his bunny smile, happy to know that you're ready to take this step with him. "It... It's just, you know I have been reading about it, pregnancy and stuff." He nodded, a sign for you to go on. "And it's all great and everything, but what if something went wrong?" You looked worriedly into your husband's confused eyes. "Like what if I have a miscarriage? What if something happens to the baby? Like what if …"

"Hold on, hold on … baby why are you trying to predict everything? Why can't you focus on the positive side?" He said trying to calm your raging thoughts. "What if my body is not strong enough to have a baby?"

"Baby,nooo!" Jungkook pulled you closer into his arms. "No, none of this is going to happen, we are going to keep checking up with a doctor, and everything will be fine. I'll always be by your side." He said pulling your head under his chin, then he pulled back to look you in the eyes, "and even if something happens, We will go through it together. I know it will be harder for you, but I swear that there's nothing in this life that could be offered to help you lessen your pain that I won't do it." He whispered sincerely, holding your face between his big warm hands. You hugged him tightly, "I love you so much, I don't even know what I did to deserve you!" You said crying over the fact that a man like Jungkook existed, a man who's willing to do anything for you. "Ah, baby I love you, too so much. I don't want you to doubt us or the future. You know why?" He chuckled feeling you shake your head. "Because the future is never guaranteed, but the only thing that is guaranteed is us, and I know that we're strong enough to face anything life throws at us, together." He said hugging you tighter. "Okay, baby?" He pulled back to look at you. You nodded as he wiped away your tears. "Now, about that baby..." He smirked as you laughed at his goofiness. He always knew how to make you laugh. Always.

Now fast forward a few years, you and Jungkook are parents now. It didn't take that long to get pregnant thanks to Jungkook's stamina. Your pregnancy went on smoothly and nothing bad happened. Just as Jungkook promised, he was always right there for you, for everything; from the moment you both found out, to birth-giving, till now. Speaking of which, the poor thing was so terrified when he knew that your doctor would perform a C-section and that you wouldn't be giving birth naturally.

"Is she supposed to be awake during the surgery?" Jungkook worriedly asked the doctor as he could see that the medication they have given you were not putting you to sleep. "Oh don't worry, Mr Jeon. She won't feel a thing, we drugged the part that we will be working on, and it's normal for her to be awake." Your Doctor smiled kindly at him knowing that this was his first time undergoing something like this. Jungkook was dressed in scrubs holding your hand to keep you from panicking, the doctor also hung up something like a sheet in front of you so you won't see them perform the surgery. "Are you okay?" Jungkook whispered, trying to make small conversation with you as you kept looking at him. You nodded still looking at him as he was getting more anxious by the minute because of your intense staring, "Jungkook why are you panicking, I am the one who's having her stomach open, not you." He laughed squeezing your hand, his nerves easing a bit. "How are you so cool with this?"

"I don't think me panicking right now, would do us any good, you know." Jungkook chuckled then kissed your forehead.

An hour has already passed by when they informed you that you delivered and that the surgery was almost over, they needed to stitch you up. "Jungkook go with the nurse!" You said urgently turning to look at him. "No baby, it's okay, your mum and my mum are waiting outside, I'll wait with you here." He said calming you down, he promised that he won't leave your side until you both get out of the surgery's room together. "But, this means that they'll know!" Jungkook chuckled at your worried expression. "It's okay baby, let them know." He said kissing your forehead. "You did great, and I am so proud of you!" He was tearing up because he could not understand how women could go through all of this, he was truly amazed. "I love you." You said looking into his teary eyes, "I love you, too baby so much!" He pecked your lips before the doctor announced that you were good to go.

It definitely wasn't easy, but with Jungkook there, everything was better.

Right now, you and Jungkook were asleep in each other's arms, appreciating the few hours of silence before everything turns back to its chaotic state in the morning. Since you've given birth, you could swear that you became a light sleeper. Your mum brushed off your marvellous discovery with a laugh claiming that it's normal for most mums to become light sleepers because you're always worried.

Just like now, your ears perked as you felt tiny footsteps softly padding towards your bedroom. And you were right, as you slowly turned in Jungkook's arms, so not to wake him up, you found your 3-year-old, Haneul, standing quietly by the door, sucking on his thumb and trying to search for you in the dark. "Haneul, baby I am here." You whispered and got up to see what's wrong. He padded softly towards you in his Stitch Kigurumi onesies that he insisted you buy from your last trip to Disneyland because that's his favourite character. "Oh baby what's wrong." You picked him up and held him in your arms cradling him as if to protect him from all the world's evil. You already knew what's wrong, he needed to change his diaper. "Come on baby, let's go to your room, daddy's still asleep." You left the room quietly hoping not to wake Jungkook up.

Haneul whimpered lightly in your arms seeing that he was irritated because of his diaper and he was still super sleepy. "Okay baby I'll change it for you, just please be quiet, your brother is still sleeping!" You prayed than Haneul won't throw a fit and wake up his twin, Hyun, from his sleep. It was too early to wake up the whole household right now.

"There, all done!" You whispered enthusiastically as he flashed a bunny-like grin at you just like his father. "Thanks, mummy." He grinned shaking his body cutely from side to side still laying on the changing table. "Anything for you baby!" You dived your head to his stomach attacking him with kisses as he squirmed beneath you. "Come on let's get you back to bed." You said putting him back in his crib and giving him a goodnight kiss. Before you could shut the door to the boys' room, you saw Haneul still standing in his crib giving you puppy eyes as he whimpered. You heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of your baby in discomfort. He wanted to sleep with you and Jungkook, but you can't let them get used to it. "Mummy!" Haneul whimpered reaching his tiny arms out for you. You sighed, your heart was too weak to leave him alone in the dark, you just couldn't do it. His eyes were starting to tear up as you went up to him. "God, you guys are my weakness." You muttered to yourself. As you were about to pick Haneul up, Hyun started to turn in his sleep, slowly waking up. Another pair of doe eyes slowly opened up, fluttering due to the dark smooth locks that were getting in its way. "Mummy!" You sighed great now both of them are awake and they will refuse to go back to sleep in their cribs.

Jungkook woke up to an empty bed, he jolted awake thinking you must be with the kids and that you might need his help, but didn't wake him up. He walked to the kids' bedroom to see you holding Haneul in your arms with him sucking on his thumb, drowsy eyes fighting sleep as you looked at Hyun who was carefully climbing out of his bed. "Careful baby!" You seemed to be fine, but your voice told otherwise, it was laced with worry, fearing that his leg might slip and he would get hurt. Hyun climbed down carefully then went up to you tugging on your nightdress and whimpering grumpily. Jungkook entered the room, "come here, buddy." He said scooping Hyun in his arms. "Baby, you woke up!" You frowned not liking the idea of him getting up so early. Since giving birth to your beautiful baby boys, Jungkook has put you and the boys as his top priority, and he was always there making sure you don't need anything. You didn't want him to wake up so early for once so that he could enjoy his sleep before going to the studio. "I didn't find you in my arms, so I got up to look for you." He said gazing at you lovingly. You kissed him on the cheek, he smiled and told you to go to bed with Haneul "I'll change Hyun's diaper and come right behind you." He said planting a kiss on your forehead. "Okay, baby." You said pulling Haneul closer to your chest.

A few minutes later, Jungkook and Hyun joined you and Haneul in bed. Haneul was fast asleep with his head resting on your chest, and Hyun was still awake looking up at Jungkook. "Come on buddy, go to sleep," Jungkook whispered running his fingers through Hyun's black locks that he inherited from his dad. "Appa!" Jungkook hummed softly in response. "Sing to me." Hyun traced his small fingers over Jungkook's cheek. Jungkook smiled closing his eyes for a few seconds enjoying the feeling as he started singing softly and quietly so that Hyun would go back to sleep.

You smiled, recalling all the things you've been through up until this moment. You remembered how you both were shocked when you found out you were having twins. That day was the best day of your life, you cried in happiness so much that Jungkook thought it was your hormones getting the best of you. "No... I'm just … I'm so happy." You said whipping your tears. That night you sat on the bed with Jungkook holding you in the same position that he would hold you when you're both having a deep conversation. You told him about the twins you saw that day, and how you were so fascinated by them and how they interacted with their mum. Jungkook smiled softly at you as he rubbed your belly. You both decided that you wouldn't tell anyone that you were having twins, and that it would be a surprise to your family and friends. The shock on their faces when they entered the room to congratulate you to find each of you holding a baby was priceless.

"Oh my God, are...are... You gave birth to twins!" Your grandma said in tears astonished by the surprise. "Oh, my dear bless you." She cried as you nodded with a big smile on your face. Your mum and Jungkook's mum were the ones who were in great shock because they were the ones who were waiting in the waiting room to suddenly find two nurses coming out with two babies. "How could you not tell us something like that?" Your mum asked whipping her tears as she looked at Haneul who was sleeping soundly in Jungkook's arms. "We wanted to surprise you." Jungkook replied as your dad smiled with tears in his eyes as he kept looking between you and Jungkook. "Congratulations sweetheart!" He planted a kiss on your forehead, proud of you. "Thanks, dad."

To say that the boys were shocked is an understatement. Poor Hobi kept looking left and right at each baby. "What the … twins?" Jimin burst in excitement as Yoongi grinned down at Haneul and Namjoon patting Jungkook's back smiling at Haneul, too. "They're so cute!" Jimin said excitedly as you handed him Hyun. "Careful, hyung!" Jungkook said worriedly, eyes watching Jimin like a hawk. "Look at our Jungkookie being a protective father," Jin said laughing with Taehyung bursting in laughter.

The boys kept pampering your kids to no end. Jin and Jungkook would even make sure that you and Lilly, Jin's wife, have play dates for the kids, seeing that Jin and Jungkook are the only fathers in the group. Life was treating you good with everyone surrounding you with love and care.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook whispered. You looked at Hyun to find him fast asleep. "Nothing I was just remembering the day the boys blessed us with their existence." You smiled patting Hyun's back as you lifted the blanket to his shoulder. Jungkook's eyes gleamed at you as he smiled, probably remembering that day, too. Having kids is a huge deal to any couple but with Jungkook being there as he promised, you felt that everything is alright, and you didn't have anything to worry about. You and Jungkook fell into a deep sleep holding each other's hands as both Haneul and Hyun slept soundly between the two of you.

A/N:

Haneul means heavenly 🌌

Hyun means bright or intelligent.🤓

[everlarkficexchange]

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up  

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though. 

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death. 

  “Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago. 

  The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

  A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod. 

  That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face. 

  “Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

  I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother. 

  Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

  Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain. 

  It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister. 

  I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life. 

  I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning,  watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children. 

  I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate. 

  We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying. 

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

  “We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag. 

  Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

  I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully. 

  I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles. 

  We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor. 

  My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up. 

  “No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

  I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man. 

  He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me. 

  “My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

  I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names. 

  “Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

  “Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

  Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

  As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

  Marvel nods, grimly. 

  “We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes. 

  “Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

  I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps. 

  “Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

  After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

  I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly. 

  Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?  

  Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

  These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

  “Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk. 

  “Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

  I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow. 

  I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile. 

  “I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly. 

  My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head. 

  Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,” 

  My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers. 

  “Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?” 

  My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

  “Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?” 

  I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

  “Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”  

  I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12. 

  I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be. 

  I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things. 

  Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night. 

  ————————-

  Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings. 

  We talk about baseball:

  “You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?” 

  I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

  “Wow, beautiful and smart!”

  We talk about cars:

  “I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

  “The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?” 

  No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

  We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child. 

  Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly. 

  I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up. 

  “Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

  We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight,  alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden! 

  I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting! 

  Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches. 

  “Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

  “Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

  His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

  “You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!” 

  It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed. 

  A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here. 

  “I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants. 

  I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us. 

  “You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

  “You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

  “My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

  I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

  Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

  I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise. 

  “That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!” 

  We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house. 

  He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound. 

  But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried. 

  ————————-

  Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down. 

  Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

  I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

  I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

  But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something! 

  I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth. 

  I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure. 

  I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes. 

  My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare. 

  At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

  One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

  “Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs. 

  I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

  “I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.” 

  ————————-

  Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face. 

  I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

  “I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,” 

  “Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

  “The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

  “I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…” 

  I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence. 

  My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

  ——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news. 

  I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way. 

  The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters. 

  “It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says. 

  At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long. 

  Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. 

  I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad. 

  Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

  “Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack. 

  I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary. 

  My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!” 

  “Katniss, what’s going on?” 

  I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

  I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

  “At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

  I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care. 

  “That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically. 

  I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t. 

  I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now. 

  “I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

  “Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

  She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath. 

  I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

  ———————-

  My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough. 

  I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold. 

  In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day. 

  There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption. 

  “Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper. 

  “Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

  Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father. 

  I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly. 

  She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation. 

  “Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly. 

  I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?” 

  “It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

  “This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?” 

  My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

  —————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

  “Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

  I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth. 

  “Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

  “Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command. 

  I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,” 

  I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade! 

  Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason! 

  I shudder at the thought. 

  But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

  My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name. 

  Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

  I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible. 

  “Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment. 

  I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

  He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

  A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here. 

  “Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

  “Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.” 

  Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[wooyoungqueen]

Part 4

Ch. 38

Title: A deal with the devil

Warnings: non

Summury: the birth of Jung Hanuel, son of Julia and Wooyoung

Tagging: @rosegaming117 @spacepiratehongjoong @leaderienugie @immortal-imagination @snailosaur @tragictraveller @truthhurts-atiny98 @shibermilkio @pastelpinkelfie

I was holding  wooyoung hand while I was delivering  our child, the. The doctor  and Maria kept on telling me to push hard and I followed their advice. When they told me that they saw the head I pushed hard, and yelled no matter how much pain it was I wanted to hold my child in my arms until I heard him crying and when they gave it to me to hold him after wooyoung cut the cord I couldn't  help but cry myself.

"Push Julia, please love. You got this." "I can't  anymore." "Yes you can, and you will love." I groaned and Maria said to me. "I see the head Sis, push a little more." "Ahhhh. Come on, come on." "You did it love, is a baby boy. Our little light is a boy. Can I cut the cord please." The doctor  nodded and then they wrapped him into a blue blanket  and I held him and named him since wooyoung loved the name.  "Welcome to the world Jung Haneul. Our little son Wooyoung." "Welcome home little champ. Oh, you're so adorable. I'm glad we  made this child with love." "I'm  thankful that he's  here safe and sound with his family" I smiled and wooyoung kissed me. Then I went to bed. "Love, will you take care of our son while I sleep a bit."  "Of course love, like my life, depends  on it." I went to bed and I was dreaming about how happy my parents were happy.

I'm so happy for you daughter. You're finally a mother."

"Yeah, I hope Hanuel  will meet his grandparents." 

"Tell him stories about us. That's  the only way, and when he gets older tell him the reason why we aren't  here" 

I smiled at them and hugged them then they told me about my brother.

"Your older brother went to our gravestone. Maria is a perfect match for him. She's  pretty and sweet." 

"Yeah, we actually  care for each other like sisters. And I couldn't be happier.  My brother works hard and deserves happiness. "

"Even you, daughter. I'm glad you're with Jung Wooyoung. Even though he teases a lot, but doesn't  mean it."

"True, he's  like that. But that is why I love him. He doesn't  pretend  that he's  not."

They nodded at me and my eyes started to open and I hugged them.on last time and smiled when I saw everyone.   "Did we wake you sis?" "No, I was about to wake up actually. His name is Jung Hanuel." "Ooh what a pretty name, I am that fun uncle." "While I was that skater uncle. Can't  wait for him to grow up for him to be a skater." I laughed then I saw Wooyoung asleep with our son. "Someone needs to take a picture because that's  cute." "I brought food for everyone" we all smiled at mingi  and thanked him, when we all ate, wooyoung woke up and ate his panda express while holding Hanuel until I noticed a beauty  mark under his left eye like his father. "Awe he has a beauty  mark like wooyoung." "Of course, because I am handsome. The one and only wooyoung." "Stop right there Casanova." We all laughed when Hanuel started to cry. "Shh. Is okay my little prince. I'm sorry that mama was loud shh." I smiled when he went back to sleep. "He will be like his uncle San. Always want to sleep lol. But I am getting tired myself." "We have to go too. We over welcomed our stay. We also let Hongjoong stay for one night in our house sis." "Why? Is your choice brother not mine besides I have a family to think of not him. He's not a problem anymore." "That's  my Queen, ah I love it when you act tough." "It's because you're a simple whip for her." Maria laughed at Wooyoung and smiled. "Damn, cold blooded. Haha lol well I gotta go clock out take care  sis." "You too, be safe okay. I need everyone to be okay, wooyoung stay ``''of course." "SIMP!!" Yeosang  ran out to Maria and then wooyoung shook his head. When everyone left I put Hanuel  back in his crib and went to bed with Wooyoung. "Good night love." "Good night my queen"  all I could do was to smile in my sleep and be grateful for the family that we both made with each other. 

[dreamlover31]

Love Will Find a Way: Chapter 26

The warm, sweet taste of caramel trickled down her throat from the Styrofoam mug locked between her lips; the ever-present odor of coffee grounds and the chatter of local patrons filtered throughout the small enclosure.

The flaky croissant laid aimlessly on top of the plate; her fingers picking at it like you would a scab that was trying to heal, she sat at a table that was parked towards the back; her eyes surveyed the surroundings and slowly made their way back to the window, where she watched bystanders pass her by without a second glance.

At that moment, she spotted an all too familiar face, the tall medium build man who attended her baby shower extended a small wave; to which she reciprocated. Her dark brown iris’ traced his movements, from when he entered the establishment to the point where he stood in front of her, after an exchange of nervous smiles, Sean pulled out the chair and sat down.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“Hope you didn’t wait too long”

“No…thanks”

“Listen, I’m glad you called…for a minute there I was worried that you’d written me off completely”

“No…I’ve been meaning to call, it’s just that…well things have been a little hectic lately”

“Hey, I get it. So, is Rafael going to be joining us?”

“Sorry, but he’s working on a pretty big case now…it takes up a lot of his time…” Alexa’s face saddened as she lost eye contact with Sean, the change in her demeanor caused a look of concern on Sean’s face; his hand slid across the table and landed on top of hers in a comforting gesture. Immediately, their eyes regained contact.

“Is everything ok? I mean, I know it’s none of my business but…”

“No, it’s ok…I can’t keep things bottled up, can I?”

Sean folded his arms on top of the table as he gave Alexa a reassuring nod, she took a moment to collect her thoughts, from there; the buildup of loneliness and frustration faltered with her telling’s of how Rafael seemed to focus on his job more than the responsibilities at home. The continuation of her account of events caused a few tears to form, at one point, she turned away from Sean and blinked to stop them from streaming down her cheeks; the same hand that held hers earlier made a place on Alexa’s shoulder in another gesture of comfort and sympathy.

“Hey…hey, it’s going to be ok”

“I mean, I know I should be more patient with him. His job asks a lot of him, but at the same time…I feel like I’m going through this pregnancy by myself”

Even though she wasn’t a part of his life anymore, there was something inside Sean that still cared for her, and it pained him dearly to see this strong, courageous woman reduced to a weeping mess. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, an idea formed in his head.

“You know, Central Park’s not too far from here…maybe we could go for a walk, a little fresh air might do you some good”

Alexa nodded in agreement at his suggestion, one of the baristas walked by their table just as they were getting ready to leave, Sean signaled to the young woman and asked if she could fix a to go bag for the tea and croissant that Alexa had yet to finish.

The woman informed him that she’d be back with his request shortly, as soon as it was recieved, the contents of her meal were placed inside. Outside of the coffee shop, Sean whistled for a cab and instantly one drove up in front of them, upon entering the vehicle, instructions were given to the cabbie to deliver them to Central Park, a good 20 minutes passed just as they reached one of its prominent entrances.

Once he received his tip, Sean headed out first, then went around to the other passenger side door where he carefully lifted Alexa from the cab; the yellow vehicle drove off the moment they reached the sidewalk. During their stroll through the vast landscape with its picturesque scenery, a newfound sense of calmness and wellbeing overtook Alexa, then as if a spark had been lit; she began to converse with Sean about his new life, as well as his relationship with Sonny’s cousin.

Essentially, he became an open book with her, as he shared stories of the intimate and special occasions they’ve enjoyed as a couple; Alexa was reminiscent of the many times that Rafael treated her to romantic dinners or displayed small tokens of affection.

Their light-hearted laughs echoed along the trail, for the first time in a while, she felt the blissful tenderness associated with having someone to share her innermost thoughts and provide comfort/ reassurance. As the hours ticked away, daylight began to fade against the Manhattan skyline, Alexa noticed the dwindling sunlight and quickly glanced down at her watch, then gasped at the lateness of the hour.

“Oh, my god, I better get going, Rafael could be home any minute”

“Alright, I get you a cab”

The two of them returned to the entrance where they originally entered, Sean waved down an oncoming cab, after she was seated; Alexa relayed to the cabbie her intended destination. Before it could depart, Sean looked over at her, he expressed how much he enjoyed their time together and reiterated that he was always willing to lend a sympathetic ear; a smile of appreciation graced her face, then she offered that they should set up another time to meet.

“Yeah, that sounds great”

“Alright, I’ll call you with the details”

The cab drove away from the curb as Alexa and Sean waved good bye to each other, from that day forward, the former lovers became practically joined at the hip. Whenever Rafael worked late, Alexa invited Sean for days where they could sample some of the exotic cuisines at the numerous restaurants in Manhattan, enjoy the various theatrical productions on Broadway or gaze at the collection of art at one of the museums.

On one of the nights that she was left in the solitude of the brownstone, Alexa took it upon herself to allow Sean to come over, when he arrived; she smiled gleefully then gestured him inside. He scanned over the layout of the two adjoining rooms and became in awe at the overall design, and placement of every piece of furniture.

“Wow, this place is amazing, did you hire an interior decorator?”

Alexa laughed, “No, we did this all ourselves”

“Still, it’s pretty good”

“Wait until you see the upstairs”

Acting like an impromptu tour guide, she leads Sean up the stairs, the bathrooms and master bedroom were up to par in the sense that they were styled in a normal fashion, but as Alexa put it, the true masterpiece was the nursery.

The light switch flipped on to showcase the oak finished dresser that sat next to the doorway, the changing table planted at the far corner, the antique rocking chair that stood by the window and the crib; with the same oak finish as the dresser, propped up against the wall on the right side of the room. The walls were covered in a coat of light purple and soft blue palettes, Alexa sauntered over to the crib where her fingers grazed along its wooden texture, a soft smile stretched across her face while memories of the day that she and Rafael built the frame of the bed that their daughter would lay came into fruition.

A small toolbox sat beside him as they held up one of the bars, with a small screwdriver in hand, every piece was inserted and screwed into the right slot; while at the same time, his body shifted from one position to another; his posterior became an immediate source of attention to the mother to be, Alexa ogled at him like a horny teenager.

The event that followed the completion of their daughter’s crib involved a lot of tender kisses and the sensuous, passionate exploration of their bodies. Gradually, her mind made it back to the present, she finished showing Sean around before they retired to the living room; they sat on opposite ends of the couch but remained at a close distance.

“I got to tell Lex, you have a good thing going here”

“I know…hey, listen…I want to thank you for everything, I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you and I appreciate you letting me bitch about my problems”

Sean chuckled, “It’s no trouble believe me, I know this isn’t easy for you…but I’m always here if you need me”

“You know it’s funny, I can’t even remember the last time Rafael and I sat down and talked about anything…or even the last time we held each other, every time he comes home…he just passes out on the bed”

The look of sadness that haunted her that day at the coffee shop returned, but Sean moved in and cupped his finger under her chin, he tilted Alexa’s head so that it was facing his.

“Things are going to get better, I promise”

The kindness and sincerity of his words allowed a bright smile to form on Alexa’s face, then as if her body had a mind of its own, her arms wrapped around Sean in a hug. The warmth of another person’s body caused a sensation of closeness and security, as they slowly released from their embrace, Alexa met Sean eyes.

The energy that was coming from his dark blue orbs pulled her into a deep trance, all that she felt was the attentiveness and warm hearted tenderness that had long been forgotten, suddenly, her lips ghosted his. In a split second, Alexa pressed her soft, gentle lips on to Sean’s; an image of Rafael flashed through her closed eyelids and at that moment, Alexa pushed herself away from him.

“Oh, my god, what am I doing?”

“I’m sorry…I should have…”

“No, I’m the one that needs to apologize…you’ve been really nice to me and I’m feeling very vulnerable right now…her voice trailed off, but right then, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over her as a small shiver ran down her spine; Alexa felt like she was being watched. She turned to face the entryway of the living room where a tall figure wearing a three-piece suit and carrying a briefcase stood, the expression on her face was one of pure horror when it became apparent that it was Rafael. The look in his eyes culminated into one of pain and murderous rage.

“Rafi!”

“What the hell is this?!”

Alexa and Sean leapt from the couch in a manner that two teenagers would if their parents walked in on them making out, she held up her hands to convey to him that he needed to calm down, meanwhile, Sean positioned himself behind Rafael while Alexa kept the focus of his rage on her.

“I know this looks bad, but right now I need you to take a breath and not do anything stupid”

“Why the hell is Carisi’s cousin’s boyfriend in my living room kissing my pregnant girlfriend?!”

Alexa’s eyes welled up, she struggled to explain to him that this minor discretion was the result of her being overwhelmed with loneliness and despair and that Sean was blameless in all of it, but then he intervened.

“Look, this isn’t her fault…I took advantage of a vulnerable, young pregnant woman…right at that moment, Rafael’s fist connected with Sean’s face, as he fell to the ground; Alexa screamed. In a daze, Sean tried to regain his footing while he was nursing his throbbing jaw, meanwhile, Rafael reestablished eye contact with Alexa, his face contorted into one of pain and hurt.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing has been going on…we’ve just been hanging out…and he was there for me when you couldn’t be. Rafi…please believe me when I tell you that I love you and only you” she cradled his face in her hands, eyes pleading with him to listen and believe her words; but alas, Rafael took his hands into hers and pushed them away. In that same instant, he stormed upstairs and into their bedroom, but not before he slammed the door; tears began to stream down Alexa’s face just as Sean was about to approach her.

“Don’t…just don’t”

It was then that Rafael reappeared with a suitcase in his hand, without so much as a cursory glance, his hand grabbed the doorknob; he was halfway out the door when Alexa begged:

“Please don’t leave, I’m sorry…I’m really sorry”

He said nothing.

“Rafi, please say something…just talk to me”

“I’m sorry…I can’t even look at you…I…I have to go”

The door closed behind him, Alexa broke down and started sobbing, Sean attempted to offer to go after Rafael, but was shut down. He insisted that she shouldn’t be left alone but once again, Alexa didn’t waiver; after Sean’s departure, she crept upstairs and curled up on the bed. Throughout the rest of the night, Alexa cried harder than she ever had in her entire life; her pillow drenched in tears…what have I done?

Tagging: @madpanda75 @laceybellerain @southern-magnolia @tropes-and-tales @itsjustmyfantasyroom @karens-imagined-world @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @madamsnape921 @skittle479

[yandere-society]

Hello Lovely admins!!! Can I request Yandere Jungkook and Jin reacting to you having a secret sex Snapchat account? Or like one where you send nudes and stuff? Love y’all !!!

Broadcast

author/admin: kimseokmomjins🥀

a/n: Poor attempt at smut (heavy petting, degradation), possessive behavior, slut shaming

It was the day of the big Overwatch League match: Seoul Dynasty versus Vancouver Titans. Jungkook wanted to catch the first half of the game during his lunch break, so he set up the live stream on his work laptop and kicked back. While most of the stream chat was a constant influx of Korean, there was one message in English that kept popping up: “I’llBeYourBaby: Lonely and wanna talk to a cute egirl? Visit my stream😘✨ You won’t regret it 🍑” Jungkook scoffed at the plea for attention. The spiteful, cruel side of him felt the need to bully I’llBeYourBaby for whoring herself out to strangers. How desperate for money could someone be that they’ll sell their body for perverts on the internet? And what a lonely, miserable life a man must have lived to resort to paying an e-girl for a morsel of attention to be thrown their way. The very notion of internet prostitution, and sex work in general, was disgusting in Jungkook’s mind. But his conservative ways are exactly why he adored you.

You were the perfect girlfriend: responsible, considerate, loyal and sweet. You were committed to your job of tutoring English online, you were quick-witted, funny, and also enjoyed gaming just as much as he did.  In Jungkook’s eyes, you truly were the love of his life, and he was practically ready to drop down on one knee.

Out of pure spite, Jungkook clicked on the username, entering the live stream at the top of the profile. With a twisted sense of justice, Jungkook was ready to spew vitriol at the female streamer to further his agenda, but immediately, it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over him. Jungkook expected the stream to be hosted by some busty, bimbo whose breasts spilled over her tank top while she played like shit in League. He expected some overly-flirtatious, inauthentic wannabe that was trying to make a quick buck from neckbeards. He expected anyone— everyone— except for you.

Unlike the risque, hypersexualized woman he had envisioned before, Jungkook saw that you were dressed somewhat modestly, wearing a simple white turtleneck, blush pink skirt and white knee-high socks. You weren’t flaunting your breasts or purposefully exuding sex appeal. Instead, you looked adorable as you fiddled with your purple galaxy Nintendo DS.

“Welcome, JustinSeagull! Thanks for joining my stream,” you greeted with a smile and wave. Jungkook found himself in a state of shock, unable to comprehend the predicament he’d just found you in. It certainly wasn’t a popular stream, but judging by the measly 16 viewers you were interacting with, Jungkook surmised that you were quite familiar with them.

knjkoya: baby, tell me why you’re so fine

jiiiiiimin: 😍😍😍😍

jiiiiiimin: step on me pls

Giggling, you addressed your viewers comments. “I would step on you, but Animal Crossing is so fuuuun,” you whined with a tiny, playful pout. “How was everyone’s day? Let me know below in the chat.”

HopeWrld: Thought about you all day 💚

CallMeJin: My day was fine, thanks for asking sweetheart. Are you enjoying animal crossing?

taetaebae: damn is it me or iss she acting mroe innocent than usual ??

You looked up from your DS to read the comments, giggling when you read the most recent ones. “Yes, I am enjoying myself, CallMeJin! Tom Nook is a huge jerk though, the interest rate on his loans are kind of bullshit,” you joked as you returned your attention to your device, uncrossing your legs slightly which gave your viewers a teasing glimpse of your underwear. Ones that Jungkook had gifted you for your 100 day anniversary.

As more comments rolled in, the filthier they became:

CallMeJin: Glad you’re having fun babygirl :)

knjkoya: i make 150k a year, i can pay off your loans any day if u just sit on my lap

D-Boy: im so fucking hard rn wtf

D-Boy: [COMMENT REMOVED BY MODERATOR]

Jungkook was in awe at the pure filth these degenerates were spilling. But most of all, he was upset at you— how could you demean yourself like this? How could you betray him? Jungkook pushed his sleeves up, ready to type a long-winded message defending your honor, a notification popped up on screen along with a gif of a cat pawing at the screen. Someone named HopeWrld had donated $100 to your stream.

“Oh! HopeWrld, thank you so much for the donation,” you chirped, “Since you helped me reach my goal, I’ll let you ask me one question, anything is fair game.” You winked at the camera, blowing a kissy face. Little by little, Jungkook’s perception of you was beginning to shatter, splintering into a thousand fragments. He thought back to all the times when you’d complain about receiving unsolicited dick pics, or reaffirm your idea that ‘men only think with their dicks.’ It was apparent Jungkook knew only of the side you wanted to show him, leaving him oblivious to the secrets you withheld from him— your very own boyfriend.

Despite the churning of his stomach, Jungkook remained firmly planted in his seat, unmoving, waiting to see how else you could disappoint him.

HopeWrld: Are you single?

Jungkook’s eyes burned holes into the computer monitor, anticipating your response. Since you were clearly lying to him, he assumed you’d do the same for your viewers. Perhaps you’d neglect to tell these scumbags that you had a boyfriend— one you’d been with for over two years, someone you shared a home with, no less. Jungkook’s tongue peeked out and wet his lips, the chapped skin craving any sort of moisture.

You sighed, folding the Nintendo DS in half and focusing your full attention at the camera. “Ah, interesting question.” Tucking your hands in your lap, you tilted your head slightly to the left, looking demure and shy. “I do have a boyfriend,” you admitted. Jungkook always found your mannerisms endearing, and even now, in the midst of his anger, he felt his heart beat erratically due to your telltale signs of nervousness: the twitch of your left eyebrow, the biting of your lip, the fiddling of your fingers.

“He doesn’t know I do this, though,” you quickly added. “It’s kind of my dirty little secret.”

D-Boy: Dirty little secret for a dirty little girl

taetaebae: i fuckin called it

taetaebae: @CallMeJin u still gonna act like a tryhard ?? lmao

knjkoya: i’ll give you $500 to break up with him, no kappa

Disregarding the comments, you continued to gush about Jungkook, although you didn’t explicitly mention his name. “But anyway, I’ve been with him for a few years now, and I love him so much. It would kill him if he ever found out about this.”

‘I love him so much’. Bullshit.

Jeon Jungkook knew everyone loved him, how could they not? Despite people likening him to James Dean or Adonis, Jungkook didn’t care much for his looks. He only cared about whether you found him attractive. The same could be said about any of his traits: his personality, his sense of humor, even the way he slept at night. The only love Jungkook cared about was yours. Your affection, your acceptance, your undivided attention.

Unlike him, though, you apparently craved the affections of other men— strangers from the internet who didn’t care about your generous soul and fragile heart. They only wanted to fuck you, discard you like trash until they found another shiny new toy.

Jungkook slammed his laptop shut, his mind clouded by fury, but still cognizant enough to formulate a plan. It was risky, but in the end it would ensure that you never consider straying from him again.

•·················•·················•

Your fingers deftly thumbed the buttons of the gaming device, controlling your Animal Crossing character as they collected seashells from the shore. Every now and then, you’d giggle, wink at the camera, read a comment or two, and then return to your game. It was easy money, and it also boosted your ego a bit. Jungkook, although being an attentive, caring boyfriend, whilst being a more than a generous lover, could be a bit suffocating at times. He dictated what you wore— more often than not, suggesting you wear couple outfits— carefully monitored your social media and even conducted background checks on all of your male family members.

Although it was twisted, you couldn’t help but feel validated at the small bits of attention you got through streaming. It was what kept you practically sane in your relationship with Jungkook, what ensured that you never snapped back at your boyfriend when he urged you to wear something less revealing, or when he scolded you for “flirting” with the older blind gentleman that lived in your apartment complex.

Humming contentedly, you delivered a package to a citizen named Purrl, only glancing up at your computer monitor to briefly acknowledge the chat, when you spotted Jungkook glaring at you from the doorway. Startling slightly, you hit Control + Tab and switched to Youtube, trying to look inconspicuous.

“H-Hi baby,” you greeted, smiled forced, yet still somewhat genuine. “You’re home early, I didn’t hear you arrive.” Jungkook clicked his tongue and pushed off the doorframe, stride confident and eyes set to kill. He responded vaguely, “Got out early.”

Jungkook approached you, his dominating presence settling over the back your white gaming chair. He feigned interest at your game at hand, “Well, what do we have here?” You glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend, doing your best to keep your cool. “Ah, yeah, I’m playing Animal Crossing! Isn’t my character adorable?” You nudged the DS towards Jungkook who smiled politely— he knew that you knew that wasn’t what he was talking about, but Jungkook was certain that he could play the better liar.

He accepted the DS from your hands and inspected your character, before handing the electronic device back. “She looks just like you, Y/N. It’s cute.” You blushed, not because of his praise, but due to the embarrassment. Your livestream was still ongoing, meaning your viewers were seeing this entire awkward situation unfold, and you hoped to God that Jungkook didn’t notice the tiny green dot on your webcam. If he did, Jungkook would undeniably find a way to take away the only form of freedom you had to interact with the opposite sex.

“You know,” he mused, coiling a strand of hair around his index finger, “I also think it’s cute how you actually believe you can lie to me.” Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath hitched slightly as you tried to remain calm. You kept your concentration solely on Animal Crossing, trying to avoid your boyfriend’s scrutiny.  Jungkook leaned in closer until his face was level with yours. Peeking at him out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his focus was not on you, but rather on your computer monitor, right hand already poised on the mouse. The cursor dragged over to the leftmost tab and you sucked in a breath, an intense sense of impending doom coiling in your gut.

The screen changed to show a mirror image of yourself, alongside Jungkook, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. Your secret had been exposed— and you knew it was only a matter of time, as keeping secret from Jungkook was a difficult task— but you hadn’t imagined it to happen this way. To be exposed on stream, by none other than your boyfriend.

You expected his fury, his disappointment— any sort of reaction, really— instead, feeling the tantric slither of his hand as it crept up your sternum.

“If you want to attention so badly, all you had to do was ask, babe,” Jungkook murmured into the shell of your ear, his body gracefully sliding itself under your thighs and repositioning you onto his lap. Tantalizingly slow, Jungkook’s fingers worked their way up the expanse of your chest until they nestled themselves over your breasts, his hands palming the clothed surface.

Although he was gentle, there was an underlying roughness to his touch. His fingers pinched the flesh of your breasts until it hurt, but would release a second later, only to alleviate the discomfort with soothing massages. Jungkook’s mouth rhythmically suckled pink bruises into the crook of your neck, eliciting a soft whimper. He smirked, satisfied that he was able to rile you up so easily. He lazily dragged his tongue up the column of your throat until his mouth rested right under your ear, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva in its wake.

His left hand relinquished control of one breast and acquainted itself with your inner thigh, his thumb toying with the elastic with featherlight touches. “You’re such a stupid little slut,” Jungkook purred, teeth nipping at your earlobe. “But at least you’re my little slut.” During all your moments of intimacy, Jungkook had never once bestowed upon you such a degrading name, as his kinks were more aligned towards praise rather than humiliation. But you surmised that his spiteful words were simply misplaced frustration.

How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? Seconds? It was impossible to tell, as you found yourself lost in the sensual motions, completely forgetting that, although you were in private, your stream was still live. You were only pulled out of your lust-induced haze when you heard the chime of your donation notification, reminding you that you had a small audience of onlookers. “Jungkook, the- the stream… I need to end the broadcast,” you weakly protested, trying to wriggle out from his grasp. Your boyfriend kept you firmly molded to him, his growing need nestled between the folds of your skirt.

“Let them watch,” Jungkook stated, brazenly making eye contact with the camera. “Since you clearly don’t mind the attention, why don’t we give them a run for their money?”

Your eyes widened, finding Jungkook’s shamelessness slightly erotic, but nevertheless feeling absolutely mortified at your compromising position. Comments were rolling in steadily, causing your heart to clench in self-loathing.

taetaebae: wtf wtf wtf

taetaebae: this shit is fuckin wilfd lmfao 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

D-Boy: what a hoe

HopeWrld: what is even happening

D-Boy: at least shes hot tho

“Kookie, baby please,” you pleaded, grabbing onto the one arm that fondled your breast, feeling the sinew of his muscles ripple under your fingertips. “I’m guh-gonna get banned if you k-keep- keep doing this.” Jungkook ignored your weak-willed objections and continued to torment you by sliding his finger into your slick heat. A moan was coaxed from your throat, the shiver from his sudden entrance causing you to lean into further into Jungkook’s chest.

knjkoya: Lucky bastard

CallMeJin: After all the money I’ve sent you?? At the very least, you could have just pretended to be a good girl, I’llBeYourBaby. Unsubscribing. Pokimane is hotter anyway.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the visual in front of you: Jungkook’s right hand splayed across your chest, while his left hand sinful touches under the ruffles of your skirt— which was, thankfully, hidden low enough to not be captured on the stream— whilst his mouth worked in tandem, leaving your neck littered in splotches of pink, red and lilac. You looked like a mess, but felt completely invigorated.

But still, despite your body being pulled into euphoria, your mind was plagued with negative thoughts. These viewers, your followers, were one of the last few sources of entertainment left, and if the broadcast was reported then your IP would be banned permanently, which meant no more streaming, no more fun, no more freedom.

Pulling away from Jungkook’s lips, you attempted to stand your ground, craning your neck to face him. “Jungkook, please don’t do this while I’m live. Let me sign out and I’ll take care of you.” Your boyfriend’s eyes settled on your bite-swollen lips and the way your heavy-lidded eyes betrayed your protests to stop. He should get what he wants while respecting your autonomy, but the selfish, vile side within him screamed to punish, punish, punish.

Jungkook gently brought his lips to yours, giving you a tender, chaste kiss, lulling you into a false sense of security. You smiled shyly, a tinge of pink dusting your cheeks and Jungkook returned the gesture with one of his toothy grins. Ever so carefully, Jungkook raised his hips and pulled out something hard, firm, from his rear pocket— a thick bundle of crisp, $100 bills, totaling close to three grand.  

As soon as your guard had been let down, he shoved the stack into your mouth, effectively gagging you. His other hand clamped down on your wrists, preventing them from reaching the mouse or keyboard. “You want these loser scumbags to pay you while you act like their cute, sweet gamer girlfriend? How about cold, hard cash? Will that keep you satisfied, princess?”

Jungkook eyed the chatroom, his attention catching on a particular message that, if it could even be possible, made dick harden even more.

jiiiiiimin: you should just let us watch you fuck her

With a scoff and cocky grin, Jungkook tilted his head mockingly. “Like hell I will. Go get your dicks hard to someone who’s not taken.” And with that, Jungkook pushed off the chair, pinning you into the desk on your stomach, whilst his other hand palmed the flesh of your bottom, a telltale sign that a rather lengthy spanking would be coming your way. The sheer force of your readjustment onto the desk had sent the computer monitor and webcam tumbling off the desk, landing in a shattered mess on the floor, pieces of plexiglass and plastic littered everywhere.

You made a mental note: be sure to buy a new monitor after Jungkook’s punishment, and make sure the next one is shatter-proof.

[ohnohetaliasues]

Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 1}

(Kat)

This is going to be the worst thing I’ve ever read, isn’t it?

Am I going to actively want to die? Yes, most likely. But apparently, because I run a blog like this, I can endure suffering.

Flashbacks to Blood Raining Night.

Here we go. We will start with the introduction, written by the onion lord himself.

I want to be direct, my name is Greg. I go by “Onision” online.

Okay, I dunno what it is, but something feels off about this sentence.

This book is made up of events that occurred in my own life mixed with fiction from the made up life of James. James is essentially a better version of myself.

I can’t imagine how good that could be, seeing as the man who wrote this is a child predator and is just an overall piece of hot garbage.

His home, his school & his life all resemble my own at his age.

Don’t ever use a fucking ampersand instead of the word ‘and.’ It’s just bad grammar.

The people James analyzes and is surrounded by are not so unlike those I’ve known as well.

Analyzes?

Why?

I have experienced much of the loss James has however his happier moments are more often than not also mine.

Then write a memoir. Not this.

I want to share my story without it being purely non-fiction.

I mean, some people do this with books about their lives, but this feels... Odd?

I simply felt this approach would make for a far better book. At points I cried while writing this, at others I laughed.

Congratulations.

I don’t care.

Stones To Abbigale is not just a book I wrote, it is a piece of who I am.

That’s a given for all writers, but I still don’t care. 

I’m going to rip this book to shreds.

Okay here we go.

I was asleep until I met her, but when I woke, I learned the meaning of "perfect imperfection."

Is this Onion boy trying to be poetic?

It actually made me want to die.

I've always been the type of person to focus on stars as we spin beneath them, the cool breeze on a sunny day, scattered patches of grass under my feet, the world around me, often forgetting to even glance at the one within.

‘The one within.’

Okay so the way this is written makes those three things seem disconnected. I often do stuff like this when I write, but I’d write it like ‘as we spin beneath them, focus on the breeze on a sunny day, on the scattered patches of grass, etc.’

You couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to rewrite that garbage sentence. This is all very waxing poetic and not in a good well structured way.

I had remained emotionally unexplored for so much of my life.

That must’ve been boring, not experiencing human emotions like the rest of us.

You sociopath, you.

It's painful knowing some can go an entire lifetime without understanding their own heart, an internal lock waiting for the right key to change everything.

Yeah, whatever, shut the hell up, you whiny idiot.

This is like an introduction by a teenager who just opened a poetry book and was like ‘yup. I wanna write like that.’

Except you aren’t William Blake or Walt Whitman and you never will be.

Sorry, Onion boy.

Except I’m not.

Die mad about it, grease ball.

It was the first Monday of November. I opened my eyes, blinded by my recently painted wall-to-wall white room. Even my bed frame, constructed of purely metal, was painted white.

Okay, cool. I’m a descriptive writer and I take every chance I can get to mention details, but even I find this description awkward. It feels irrelevant in this situation.

It bounced off the walls causing my eyelids to desperately clamp together. Painting my room like this was a clear act of subtle self-inflicted psychological torture.

Then why in the sweet hell did you do it? Do you enjoy suffering?

Actually, he probably does.

Because this is edgy as hell.

I was going through another phase, from darkness to light, and repeat. Seemed like the story of my life.

This is so edgy I am in physical pain.

You know your symbolism is good when it’s so random that you have to point it out and explain it to your audience.

My mom could see the darker colors were depressing me, I felt comforted by them, but found there were good aspects of both extremes. I was happy to visit either side, they are both so simple. But right now the intense light bouncing from wall to wall felt like it was ripping my mind in two.

Am I an idiot or is that just... word salad?

My mom didn't wake me. My alarm clock sat on my dresser with no explanation for it's failure to function. The clock only illuminated a blank stare with 8:17 written all over it's face. While entirely robotic, I imagined the clock to have the dumbest possible expression, one complementing its failure to behave any way outside its random glitch-infested nature.

That was the worst way to write a personification ever, but okay.

In the reflection of it's plastic face I could see myself unconsciously making the dumb expression I was imaging the clock to have. I laughed in my casual dorky tone and began to get ready to leave home.

I’m not laughing, idiot.

Without breakfast, I left for school with a bogus note in hand to idealistically explain my tardiness.

You... You wrote a fake note?

Do you realize you could get in trouble for that?

You’re an idiot.

I think most of my teachers were too exhausted to worry about small variances in our appearance from time to time. With how low their pay likely was, I imagined there were very few rules most teachers cared about.

That isn’t true at all. Teachers have to pay attention to rules unless they want to get, I dunno, fired.

It was another cold day in Lakewood. The wind hit my eyes forcing tears to form in the corners as I sped along the sidewalk at a no-doubt unreasonable speed.

I cannot imagine any good imagery for this scene. I’m just imagining this gif:

I passed Lauren and Raymon walking the opposite direction, no doubt headed toward the nearby church where all the students go to smoke, make out and hide out till school ends.

Um okay. Does this guy know that if characters don’t have relivance to the story, if they have no reason to be named, than they don’t have to be?

No.

Because he’s a 34 year old man baby.

They seemed so childish as they held hands and smiled excitedly as if they had gotten away with some tremendous crime.

That sentence seems so robotic I genuinely can’t.

Mr. Hanson, my heavy-set, middle-aged history teacher, rolled his eyes as I walked into class. "James, talk to me after class" he said quickly, looking away from me as if I were an undervalued employee who was barely important enough to make eye contact with let alone deliver a full sentence to.

It bothers me so deeply that a new paragraph wasn’t started when this character talked.

"I have a note," I said. He ignored me, and continued his lecture on yet another topic that would not only be completely useless later in life, but wasn't even relevant for even a few seconds after the words left his mouth.

Why is this teacher acting like a petty teenager?

I’m deeply annoyed by this.

And yeah, it’s relevant. You have tests, you idiot. Take notes. And it’s also history, which is, again, relevant.

In conclusion, shut your mouth and stop bitching.

There was only 15 minutes left in the class, but I felt it would be more stimulating to integrate myself into the room to yet again study my classmates' behavior than to sit in a hall watching the rows of scum covered tiles inevitably slide off the decaying walls.

That’s a health code violation, friends.

Or Onion is an awful writer and he thinks describing a school like this is a good idea. My money is on that.

For as long as I remember I've enjoyed seeing how people move around and talk to each other, like they're all animals at the zoo.

Something is wrong with you, friend. Liking to people watch is one thing, but doing shit like this is something else entirely.

Uh, try sociopath-like?

Creepy as hell?

We’ll go with both.

I would try to deliver a more accurate analogy if I felt there was one

Bitch, there is. I can’t name one off the top of my head because reading this makes me feel like my brain is melting out of my ears, but I’m 100% sure there is a better analogy. Even though this feels more like a simile.

but so many of them seemed incredibly unaware of themselves, just living life as if it were some generic predefined routine.

Oh, and you’re so much better obviously, you pretentious bastard.

Sometimes I felt like an alien who had a VIP pass to submerge myself in primitive human culture just for entertainment.

Congratulations, that’s also what you sound like.

I sense everything I can take in around me. The seemingly limitless audible tones, tremors in the voices of growing children rang in my ears. In studying people, I found myself gradually learning to literally feel the various personality types I encountered.

Do you... Do you have psychic powers?

If not, shut your damn mouth.

I hyper analyzed every inconsistent smell, the seemingly random clothing styles, freckles, and assorted hairstyles filled my mind with questions. Trying to rationalize and understand what sequence of events led them to decide who they would become.

You are the most pretentious protagonist I have ever read. I’m half a chapter in and I already fucking hate you.

This character is so poorly written and immediately unlikable. i cannot relate to him at all and if someone does, I suggest you go get some help because how this asshole is behaving doesn’t sound human.

I took favor of categorizing most everyone around me. The socially inept know-it-all, the dumb attention-seeking drama kid

On behalf of all drama kids, go fuck yourself.

and the bleach blonde bimbo who gets overly defensive at the slightest hint of criticism.

Do you mean you?

Onion obviously didn’t let anyone edit this garbage.

Then there were the kids who just hoped no one noticed them at all. There was so much to be seen, to be considered and organized in my mind.

Mhm.

I don’t care.

Class had just ended so I walked over to Mr. Hanson's' desk &

And*

placed the tardy note down in passing. As I walked out with the rest of my class, he called after me. "James! We still need to talk!" I responded but continued to walk outside the room. "I have to be early to my next class! Let's talk tomorrow!"

You’re an asshole.

And I hate you.

I walked quickly down the hall towards my art class, which was awkwardly placed in a trailer outside my clearly poorly funded high school.

Um.

Okay.

On my way to the class a fight had already broken out between two jocks who, no doubt, both had controlling, iron-fisted fathers who brainwashed them into believing conflicts between men are best resolved with the bloodying of their fists.

That’s a bold thing to assume, dear Onion.

These kinds of men plagued my mind with wonder. I could not conceive a scenario in which they could justify their primitive & pointless mentalities yet they would always continue to perpetuate their self-destructive attitudes as if it offered the slightest legitimate benefit.

Oh, shut your pretentious mouth.

Most everyone nearby crowded around the fight. None of them likely cared who was winning, what it was about or how far it went. All they ever seemed to show concern for was their own amusement, always excited to see violence without having to pull out their wallets to pay for it.

Are you joking?

Where are the teachers?

This is complete bullshit.

This is high school, not a fucking fight club.

Does Onion even try to make this believable? Or is he just vomiting all over his keyboard and just accepting whatever nonsense that makes?

As the sounds of flesh collided fist to cheek & chest quickly followed the howls from the surrounding students. They would scream "Oooohhhh!" as if it were sincerely delightful to witness creatures like themselves suffer & fall apart before their eyes.

The use of ampersands is making me lose my goddamn mind.

Even if I had time to stop, I never really took pleasure in seeing strangers hurt each other. Most all fights seemed avoidable and were often initiated for a senseless reason.

Go choke on air. This protagonist annoys me more than any protagonist has. I’m not joking. Fuck this dickwad.

I know, you could say it's more complicated than that, I would like to think it were as well, but reality trumps the way I wish things would be. There's no sense in fighting it when doing so rarely helps anyone.

While this is true, this is worded in a way that’s so pretentious it’s painful and also in a way that paints this protagonist in such a white knight-y way that it makes me want to die.

As I approached my next class the image of Abbi's face illuminated the neon walls of my mind like a projector teasing a theatre screen with fleeting moments of depth & purpose.

That is complete and utter word salad. Stop immediately.

Ever since I met her, she had occupied a part of my consciousness; whenever I wasn't near her I missed her to an unrealistic extent. You could call my longing sad especially considering we had barely talked; she just had a strange effect on me, one no doubt similar to a willful addiction.

That’s called a crush, but the way that was just described is so creepy.

There are people in life which we pass by on a daily basis, barely aware of their existence, but on an exceptionally rare occasion you can find a person who fills an area inside your little world you didn't even realize needed filling.

While that’s technically not untrue, it feels like a lizard person is trying to tell me what having a crush on someone is like.

As I walked up the creaking stairs into my art class trailer I could see Abbi was sitting at her shared-desk, alone, same makeup, hairstyle & general appearance I had thought about repeatedly over the last couple days. She was drawing pictures on her blue-lined paper, distracting herself from the cold that filled the oddly glowing room.

This... This imagery is so fucking weird.

I smiled slightly trying not to be too obvious and sat down on my chilled metal chair positioned a few seats to the left in front of her. Glancing over, I could see she hadn't moved at all, I felt like she didn't even notice me come in.

You aren’t the center of her world, so yeah, she’s focused on something else. That’s just how it is, asshat.

I wanted to inspire some acknowledgment of my existence from Abbi so I opened my mouth to greet her when my fingers brushed up against freshly smeared gum under my desk. "Eeew!" I shouted out on impulse. She looked up at me with a blank expression.

I’ve accidentally touched gum on the bottom of my desk before, as I can imagine everyone has, but I’ve never shouted about it like a lunatic.

Bursting into the room came a group of boys. "Dude I think John's done bro!" one of the other boys laughed, saying "Won't see them for a week at least."

Nobody talks like this. Have you ever spoke to another human?

I looked back at Abbi to see she also didn't react to their outburst. Strangely knowing that her apathy was generalized and impersonal gave me comfort.

There needs to be a comma after ‘strangely,’ but whatever.

Her influence on how I felt was obviously dangerous but I didn't care as no matter how fond I was of the idea that I was not of the world, I knew my place and had no real interest in pretending otherwise.

Explain to me how in the hell that’s dangerous.

Jason, one of the boys energetically praising the fight they had just seen, sat in his seat next to Abbi. I smirked watching her shoulders shift away from him. Her body language sent a loud message that she had the same impression of Jason as I did. He was just another moron, placed on this Earth to live his life completely unexamined,

That word is not used properly in that sentence.

a pawn that had no awareness of its own role let alone that it was just another tiny component within a massive unstoppably twisted game.

Shut your pretentious mouth because that doesn’t make any goddamn fucking sense.

I know it sounds morbid and condescending but my attitude was just something that naturally developed the more I studied human behavior.

Bullshit.

I would be more optimistic but I find doing so would be like walking into a room with no windows and turning out the light. If you refuse to see the world around you for what it is you're just wasting your eyes.

Being optimistic means looking on the good side of things. You’ve heard the glass half empty or half full thing. it’s that. And as someone who jumps between optimism and pessimism, being optimistic isn’t like this at all.

Don’t try to be poetic or funny, Onion. Those are two things that you aren’t.

Art class was about to begin. My teacher, Mrs. Stanley, who looked like she should have retired a ridiculous thirty years ago, approached the front of the room talking about how art is sacred. She also discussed the random object she had us all draw the previous school day and ironically graded it by using her own narrow-minded definition of art.

That isn’t ironic.

I always wondered how teachers could even attempt objectively grading art. Is there any logic behind validating a form of self-expression using a cold black and white mathematical system?

It’s a class where you have to follow the curricula. Shut your damn mouth.

And this is coming from someone who hated her art teacher. But this art teacher was so utterly closed minded that she didn’t accept anyone else’s creative process. She basically told us that if we didn’t follow her process, we weren’t real artists.

"Today I'm going to place you with partners" Mrs. Stanley said as she pulled out sheets of paper outlining our activities to come. "To keep this simple, I'm going to partner you with the person you are currently assigned to share a desk with" she said. I sighed knowing I was bound to be paired up with Alex, a guy I had specifically asked to be seated away from ever since he peed in a jar literally right next to me under our desk, acting like he was so cool for publicly exposing himself while simultaneously urinating.

That... He expected to be treated like he was cool for this?

That’s fucking disgusting.

It happened weeks ago and I still can't figure out what kind of crazy it takes for you to, in the presence of people you barely know but have to see nearly on a daily basis, pee in a jar held in your hand just beneath your desk in the middle of a classroom.

At first when I read this, I thought that the wayit was worded made it sound like Alex forced James to hold the jar while he peed in it, but okay, whatever.

What then? You show it off like you will be praised and accepted as if it were an accomplishment? Alex, despite being borderline mental, was one of my least favorite people to study.

It is actually physically exhausting to read this shit. James is a pretentious asshole.

I couldn't help but feel there was some defect in his mind that invalidated the point of conducting a thorough analysis of him.

This just makes it seem like James has mind reading powers.

He was completely irrelevant when considering the realities of normal human behavior.

Behavior you don’t act according to, you lizard person sociopath.

As I was off on a tangent in my own mind I heard a familiar voice ring out, one that inspired the very same emotion you experience when a song you had forgotten you loved, randomly plays in the background of your daily life. "Can I be paired up with James?" her voice was just as I remembered.

Is this Abbi?

I have a friend who spells her name like this, so I really hate that there’s a character in this shitty book who shares a name with her.

Despite her having not spoken in class in some time, she hadn't changed a note. Abbi had interrupted the teacher just to partner with me, but I asked myself if was it really just to work with me or just to get away from Jason.

Um. Okay.

The teacher, looking irritated but understanding Abbi's discomfort with Jason responded "Alex and Jason, you'll be partners. James, switch seats with Jason" "Thank you!" Abbi said with a slight smile. With a cocky grin Jason stood up and in a comedic fashion smelled his armpit. "Wow, I didn't know I smelled that bad" Jason said as he walked over to sit by Alex.

That isn’t funny and Onion boy isn’t funny.

Approaching Abbi was no doubt a way scarier act in my mind than it was to everyone around me, I felt like my head was burning from the inside out.

That’s a little extreme.

Nevertheless I continued to remind myself that her public outcry to partner with me could have meant nothing. I sat down next to her and did all I could not to turn into a complete dork on her. She reached out and grabbed the project outline that was being passed out. Mrs. Stanley began to read the description of the assignment. "Today you will both be taking something meaningful, but expendable, from your own homes."

If something is meaningful it isn’t expendable. Stop.

Mrs. Stanley looked up and emphasized, "That you own!" then looked back down at her paper. "You will tear those items apart here in class. You will then take those items and, using the adhesives, staples and the strings available in class, find a way to create something new out of those possessions."

That’s actually kind of an interesting idea. But like. Maybe with a cup? I don’t wanna rip apart something I care about.

She looked up and said in a low voice sounding somewhat like Dracula "Two, will become one."

That is unnecessarily creepy. It reads like an innuendo.

Also, what in fresh hell does Dracula’s voice sound like?

Did she say it with a Transylvanian accent? I’m confused.

Jason raised his hand objecting, "All due respect Mrs. Stanley I'm not breaking something of mine for this class."

Jason has the right idea.

She replied putting her hands on her hips, "That's fine Jason. We'll supply you with a toilet paper rolls, we have plenty of extras around here." Jason suddenly looked disturbed and sarcastically spouted "Freaking great!"

Why???

That’s better than ripping apart a t-shirt.

Mrs. Stanley asked, "Are you sure? Your grade shouldn't suffer that much if you two just take Alex's piss jar and tape it to a toilet paper roll. You're already failing this class."

What in the literal fuck?!

You cannot say that to students. No, you can’t say that to anyone.

Jason couldn't believe what she had just said

Same.

and Alex maintained an awkward frozen facial expression with his mouth slightly open in his normal weirdo somewhat robotic fashion.

"Oh my god" Abbi whispered under her breath with a slight smirk. I grinned uncontrollably; just seeing her amused was amazing to me.

That wasn’t really funny, it was just shocking.

I could hear a scream in the back of my mind reminding me my dorkiness and borderline obsession was escaping through my face.

It's not that I couldn't help being in awe of Abbi and basically every little thing she did, I simply didn't want to change how I felt. In a way, she was like your favorite song or book, you could pretend not to like it and in time with the right mental coaching maybe you would sincerely dislike it, but life just felt so much better embracing your condition entirely, letting all your nerdy admiration flow freely.

This just reads like an obsession. I don’t have the energy to actually express how romantic feelings actually feel, but this is terrifying.

Mrs. Stanley continued, "If there's anyone else who has an issue, please take it up with my 1800 number which is?" She put her hand up to the air signaling the students to react but only a couple kids replied aloud with her catch phrase. "1-800-BOO-HOOO" they mumbled.

Sweet Jesus.

So this is what it feels like to lose my mind.

She continued, "Good, now for the rest of class please work with your partner on what you plan to bring and draw up a prototype sketch of what you feel your final piece of art will look like." Mrs. Stanley walked to the back of her room and sat down at her 1950's looking rust-infested desk.

Is this school just a giant health code violation? And what the hell do you mean by ‘1950′s desk?’ All I got when I googled that were pictures of wooden desks.

I would always laugh internally when I looked at the old thing. Maybe it was my way of coping with the fact I attended one of the most run down schools in the state.

I have nothing that isn’t full of curse words and fact checking to say here.

"What are you going to bring James?" Abbi asked.

This sentence is put so Abbi looks like she’s asking if James is going to bring himself without the comma after the word ‘bring.’ Did Onion really not edit his book at all? These are simple and fixable grammatical mistakes.

It was amazing hearing my name pass her lips but I had no time to think, if I didn't respond right away she would think I was totally awkward. "I... have no idea..." I responded. Smiling she said, "I'm going to bring my hamster cage", I asked, "Did he die or something?" she laughed, "No, I never got one, the cage was just a gift from my dad."

But you’re supposed to cut it up.

Hamster cages are made of metal.

Does Abbi just have superhuman strength? Is she going to bring a pair of bolt cutters?

"Your dad didn't get you a hamster... for the cage?" I asked.

My question exactly.

Sometimes you just...

You just gotta give your daughter a hamster cage but no hamster.

She paused and started to lose her smile.

Oh fabulous, she’s one of those characters.

At the first sign of her smile fading I felt a crushing pressure in my chest. "Hopefully you can find something that will work with that," she said. I couldn't help but feel like a total jerk despite not even knowing what I did wrong.

That interaction was so... Weird? Robotic? i don’t know. Something felt wrong about it.

I had the overwhelming urge to fix how she felt so I took a gamble, "Well, I could always bring that weird vibrating thing my mom hides in her drawers all wrapped up in a cloth" I said.

What is wrong with you?

I cannot fathom what made Onion think this joke was funny.

She busted out laughing hysterically as a huge grinned filled my face. I was so happy I could get her to smile again. "Eeew! James!" she continued to laugh as the extent of my grin began to stress my cheeks. I couldn't remember a time when I was this obvious about how I felt.

This... Something is wrong with just... all the dialogue.

And with the formatting. You make a new paragraph when someone starts talking. A 34 year old man should know this. He writes like me when I first started writing, and while this probably means he just started writing, I was 11 years old when I wrote like this.

He is a 34 year old adult. There is no excuse for how bad this formatting and how generally terribly written these interactions are.

Abbi's laughing trailed off and she paused. Turning to me she said, "You... you didn't actu- ally... your moms?"

*Pained groaning.*

I responded, "No, I wouldn't know about that, but I'm glad it made you laugh." She responded, returning to a soft laugh "You're more goofy than I thought James." I sat next to her looking at my fingers interlaced in front of me; my wide smile relaxed but still filled my cheeks with warmth.

This entire chapter, everything here, is so awkwardly written.

As class came to a close Abbi patted me on my arm. I turned and she handed me a note. Instinctively I put it in my pocket and said "See ya tomorrow", she just smiled and walked away.

????

On my way to my next class, I opened the note. I didn't understand why, but it read "NISEONE."

Not knowing what to make of it and with little time, I stuffed it back in my pocket to look over later.

Yeah, that’s cryptic as hell.

Not feeling like skating home,

Oh, we’re really getting into edgy 2000′s shit now.

I got on the bus to see all the normal rejects and misfits waiting. Davis, a short and scrawny kid who had been my best friend since middle school despite being one grade behind me excitedly waved me over.

Oh, good, more terrible characters.

"James! Nice to seeeee you!"

Oh, this bitch needs to die.

he said in seemingly the dorkiest way possible. I smiled as he stood up giving me the window seat, knowing very well by then that I preferred it.

Um. Okay.

As I sat down I began looking out the window, analyzing the little humans running left and right to get on their busses.

Buses*

And I am going to eventually kick your ass for this pretentious bullshit.

Something reached out and caught the corner of my eye. I immediately shifted my head to see what it was and quickly realized it was Abbi standing in the parking lot by some beat-up sedan.

"What'cha looking at James?" Davis asked. Without hesitation I began to respond, "Oh, it's Abbi, she's in my art..." my heart sank as I witnessed a boy I barely knew, named Seth, walk up and kiss Abbi on the lips.

Oh, boo fucking hoo. Get over the fact that she has a life outside of your crush on her.

"James?" Davis said, but by that point his voice was a faint echo in the darkness my mind instantaneously lost itself in. I felt like after a life of numbness I was finally about to truly feel warmth for the first time only to have it all taken away in an instant, leaving me hopeless in the shadows, alone once again.

Cry me a goddamn river.

You angsty pretentious idiot.

Don’t give me angsty word salad about how sad this makes you, I don’t actually care at all.

I looked down at my knees feeling as if I lost all muscle control in my neck.

That isn’t a thing that happens ever when someone is upset.

"Are... you ok?" Davis asked. I responded with hesitation "...I'm... just stupid."

You spoke to her once, you fucking dumbass.

"No you're not. You're one of the coolest guys I know!" Davis replied. I continued my silence as he offered words of encouragement. "Okie dokie, well, you're awesome and should be super happy so if you want to talk, I'm your buddy so... so I'm here to talk."

That’s uh, nice of him.

But the way he’s talking sounds like... almost mechanical? All he’s done since he was introduced has been compliment James.

I was too focused on the con- flict raging in my mind to hear anyone at that point. I couldn't think about anything but Seth kissing Abbi the entire trip home.

Oh, get the fuck over it.

That night my mom was literally just serving lentil beans she prepared on her crock-pot for the billionth time, a fair exaggeration but still, it was excessive to say the least. My sister was behaving as she usually did at the dinner table, talking about how stupid she thought school was and how she couldn't wait for college. "How was work mom?"

I mean, I’m also tired of high school. I’m really done with judge-y teenagers.

I asked trying to keep my mind off the haunting images looping in my mind.

YOU HAVE HAD ONE FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH HER. CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, YOU BITCH.

Any normal person would express disappointment over the fact that a person they like has a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner in general, not go into a damn depression about it.

"Well, no one at work respects me or listens to me and I generally can't stand it, but you know, we still have food on the table" she said in a stern tone.

That

That is weirdly passive aggressive and mechanical.

My sister barked as food flew out of her mouth, "Well at least it's not high school. I'm learning how to be a successful person from a bunch of low-income losers."

Oh, I guess bitching runs in the family.

My mom replied "Whatever your teachers are, they have full-time jobs, which is more than a lot of people can say." My mom gave my sister Lisa a disap- pointed look. Lisa was well known for showing little respect for hard-working people. To her it didn't matter how much you gave back to society, it only mattered how much money you made.

That’s a very black and white way to look at things.

After the rerun of lentil soup I washed the dishes per my mom's orders and headed to the shower. I sat on the floor of the tub thinking about Abbi, barely feeling the water as it hit my chest.

Sat on the floor... while water hits your chest? Are you like sitting with your back arched so the water can hit your chest?

This imagery is so odd.

I was so consumed with what I had seen that I had completely forgotten the note until that moment. I quickly reached over to my pants resting on the toilette.

Why the fuck did you spell toilet like that?

That’s literally the word for ‘toilet’ but in French. It isn’t a spelling used in English. It just makes you sound even more pretentious.

Also, he reached over to the toilet to grab the note from his pants while he’s in the shower?

It’s gonna get wet, you idiot.

I had hoped I read it wrong the first time and that it would make sense with a second look only to see it read exactly what I gathered in my initial passing glance. "NISEONE"

I fucking hate you, Onion.

This literally looks like you scrambled your screen name up.

Die.

In a fire.

I mumbled to myself. I joked with the idea in my head that she handed me the wrong note but still assumed it wasn't a failed attempt to say "Nice one," which could be taken as a compliment if you were desperate enough.

That joke, while just a little funnier, is still fucking lame.

Seconds into looking at the note my eyes widened, having figured out what it meant, I jumped up slipping to my feet and screamed "YEAH!!!" I had cracked it, only to immediately after feel completely stupid for not having figured it out sooner.

I’m just done functioning.

My mom screamed through the door from her bedroom "WHAT?" I responded "Sorry! Nothing!" I hurried to finish showering.

I’d just assume he got really into jerking off.

I’ll see myself out.

Staring at my phone wearing only a towel, I smiled as I typed in "NISEONE" or "647-3663" into the number keys.

That is the most cryptic and strange way to give someone your phone number.

I assumed we shared the same area code otherwise she likely would have given me a longer sequence of letters and I was right. After two rings I got an answer.
"What do you want?" a disgruntled man's voice asked.

This... This girl gave this guy a home phone number?

I guess that’s fine since this is probably set in the early 2000′s, but it’s still odd.

Like a bad engine struggling to start in a monster movie I clumsily belted out a response "I... uh... I was looking for..." An unenthusiastic female voice in the background said, "Give me the phone." "Whatever" he said dropping phone in front of her.

James can apparently see through the phone, or he wouldn’t know that probably Abbi’s dad did this.

"Hello?" I could recognize the voice now it was Abbi.

Trying to hide my excitement by maintaining a normal tone I said, "This is James." Abbi excitedly screamed

Like how girls screamed in Disney Channel shows?

That’s ridiculous.

and responded "Oh my god you figured it out!" Hearing her optimistic tone I laughed saying, "So... why..." She interrupted. "I was hoping to find out if you figured out what you're bringing to art class."

Why the hell didn’t you just fucking ask? Or give him your regular phone number? This is just unnecessarily complicated.

I said "Oh!" and looked quickly around my room. I couldn't see anything immediately so I just said, "I'll... surprise you!" She then replied "Oh come on, tell me." My eyes locked on to a plausible item for the project. "How about my... bear... I'll bring my bear!"

You’re okay with destroying a teddy bear? Okay, I guess.

I said. She replied "Oh, ok, oh! I have an idea. Instead of the cage, I'll bring in a stuffed animal of mine and we'll make like, a zombie bear."

Sounds fine.

I don’t care.

You guys are fucking boring.

I laughed "Awesome" I said. "Ok, I'll see you tomorrow ok?" she replied happily. I answered "Ok, byeee."

I would appreciate it if you would fuck off.

I can’t believe this shit is on GoodReads.

Just before she hung up I could still hear her laughing, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment and a lasting smile as if it were painted across my face.

That’s the end of chapter one?

Oh god, okay.

That was.

Terrible.

The characters are bland and flavorless and I cannot get attached to any of them. I can already tell I’m going to completely despise this.

I’ll see you next time. I need to go think about my life.

~Kat

[kattahj]

Thoughts on Witcher rewatch, episode 6: Rare species

I started reading this story in Sword of Destiny and got so acutely embarrassed that I had to stop after a few pages. It was like being invited to Sapkowski's middle school locker. Lots of bare thighs, giggling, and hints of bathtub orgies. It's not so much that it's sexist but that it's so adolescent. I'm not saying that the show's portrayal of Borch, Tea and Vea is unproblematic, but it's a little easier to ignore the leering bits. But don't worry, I will return to it eventually!

I know there are Class fans who watched this for Jordan Renzo, and I'm rather amused at how disappointed they must be. He plays an idiot and a douche who is killed off in a most unflattering way halfway through the episode, and we all cheer it on because fuck him for killing that poor hirikka.

The subtitles say that the hirikka "sort of looks like a faun", but surely it should be "fawn"? Because that's what he looks like. And he IS rather cute in a pitiful way, that poor starved creature.

"You overgrown cockhair" is a great insult.

So the dwarves see what's going on with Nilfgaard before anyone else does. And Borch suggests that Yennefer could have stopped it. Ah, the possibilities of alternate timelines!

Dara's a smart cookie. If only he had been smarter and not come with Ciri at all. :-( And he walks away in the end. Why did I remember him dying? Maybe because he's been knocked out so many times. Or does he die in a later episode? I find I barely remember eps 7 and 8 at all. I suck at arc-heavy stuff.

Geralt has such a nice smile. I'd wish to see it more, but honestly I think part of the reason I like it may be because it's so rare. Yen has an even lovelier smile, when it's genuine. So often it's just a sneer, but in bed with Geralt when she looks so radiant, she's so cute and I love it.

I can understand dragon hearts hypothetically curing a barren woman if it's just pcos or something, but Yennefer doesn't even have her reproductive organs. What would the dragon do, regrow them? Or just plant the seed in her womb? If she has a womb; I can't remember if that was taken too. (She could keep the foetus in a box... Sorry.)

Geralt's "uh" face when he let slip the Child Surprise thing is so great. :-D

"I can take care of myself." "You don't always have to." Well, she’s nowhere near the point of accepting that, is she?

Yen has a way of staring into the distance.

Ciri's finally getting a bit proactive, asking the right questions and then using the knife to attack the Doppler. Not that it does her much good.

I would NOT walk on that mountain path EVER. Then again, most of what happens on this show is stuff I wouldn't do ever.

Geralt is such a giant pile of fluff. It's funny, in one of the Man from UNCLE interview, Henry Cavill describes his character as "a steel fist wrapped in a velvet glove" and Armie Hammer describes his as "a puppy in the body of a wrecking ball", but here, Geralt is most definitely the puppy. (Yen’s too vulnerable to be the steel fist, though. If anything, she’s a puppy inside a steel fist inside a velvet glove. And that’s a weird image.)

Jaskier has genuinely been crying for Borch, Tea and Vea. Aw. You don't have to, they're fine!

Yennefer actually conjured up furniture for her tent. And look at the ornamentation on the tent poles! If this was modern times, she'd have a trailer with shower and everything. :-)

A bunch of little flashbacks showing the various times they've banged. I wonder what happened the other times between Rinde and this.

She expects him to be gone in the morning and then he's not gone and I'm emotional.

The Doppler/Cahir fight would have been more effective if I had the first clue which is which.

Yennefer can just freeze people in time. Yen, that's cheating! But why doesn't she use it again during the fight? She's very hands-on, Geralt does the only magic bit.

When push comes to shove, Yennefer can't just let another baby be harmed to get hers.

I understand Yen's need for independence, and why she's upset about the wish, but at the same time, there's only so far you can push people away if you want someone to be with you. (Then again, I'm like Yen in this respect, don't get too fucking close but don't let me die alone.)

Their parting is so sad, but if we compare it to the Istredd/Yennefer breakup it's not half as nasty. There's nothing truly unforgiveable said on either side. If anything, they're both right about each other. If it weren't for the destiny angle rankling Yen so much, it would be barely more than a tiff.

Interestingly enough, in the book Yen likes the thought of being bound to Geralt. The versions are quite different in some ways. (And I do need to finish reading this story, for proper comparison, embarrassment notwithstanding.)

And then he takes it all out on Jaskier instead. I think fandom's desire to fix this, more than the Yen/Geralt fight, is in part the inclination towards boyslash above all else, yes, but also that it has a more obvious solution: Geralt is out of line, he knows he's out of line, and if he wasn't so emotionally constipated he'd apologize.

In comparison, the Yen situation requires either breaking the bond, or Yennefer accepting it, and neither one of those is a minute's work.

(Sidenote: This is one reason I feel like I need to write Yen's version of my fic. I put her and Geralt back together without explaining how that happened, and I need to. But I also need to rewatch first to get the details right, especially since I’m so hazy on the last two eps.)

I hope we get more Fringilla and Cahir next season, I'd like to see what makes them tick beyond just religious fervour.

I feel like Netflix played themselves by waiting so long to deliver the soundtrack, because by now, I actually likes Joey Batey's songs with The Amazing Devil better than the ones he sings as Jaskier. I mean, Her Sweet Kiss is nice and all, but compared to the raw bitterness of Elsa's Song? Pass.

[thisislizheather]

July Jiffs 2020

This was me all month.

The key word being was. We bought an air conditioner! We’ve been an A/C-free family for some time now, but since we’re spending so much time at home, we figured now was the time to be cool. In other news, everything still blows! What a shock! Here’s how I spent July.

I didn’t even know another Halloween movie was being made but of course I’ll go see it even if it turns out to be trash, you gotta support classic horror franchises, that’s just basic horror etiquette 101.

This is the most basic, boring-sounding sandwich on planet earth, but it tastes incredible I promise you (I didn’t add bacon, but I did add fresh mozzarella) and whatever bread you use, it’ll still be great. I find myself constantly forgetting about the greatness of mayo because I, my dear, am an idiot.

I ordered a bunch of new address labels on Zazzle because they were having a Christmas in July sale, so I bought some seasonally inspired labels to use over the next few months. If you’re not seasonally co-ordinating your return address labels, are you even living?

I’m still doing Nathan’s podcast on Patreon incase you’re interested. (You can find more clips on his Instagram.)

I attempted to watch the new Baby-Sitter’s Club on Netflix and it’s really not meant for me. I was never into the books or the movie or any of it, I never liked the idea of kids caring about making money, it seemed too sad to me. “Just be a kid!” I’d always thought.

Speaking of childhood nostalgia, I have started to watch reruns online of Sweet Valley High, which I loved as a kid. It’s no Breaker High, but it’s still pretty great to rewatch. God, Jessica really was an absolute bitch.

Some other things that I’ve rewatched: Con Air (practically a perfect movie, will always love, *Nic Cage forever* might be the only tattoo I’d ever get), Supermarket Sweep is on American Netflix and I was so excited (for about three episodes) then I moved on with my life, Sleepless in Seattle (still a very nice, average, reliable movie), Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (actually a really great summer movie, will always be a fun time to watch, will forever be a huge Keanu fan, I just feel like I could trust him??), and Dick Tracy (will always love this movie even if it has eight million too many montages, the set design is gorgeous, and this one outfit that Madonna wears makes me question… everything).

Some new movies that I’ve watched: Always Be My Maybe (so, so great! How did it take me so long to see this! So many good scenes, such a good movie), The Karate Kid (insane that I hadn’t seen it before, kids were uncomfortably mean in the 80s, favourite part was when Mr. Miyagi beats up the children, great movie), The Stepfather (pretty fun time, so happy we’ve starting watching horror movies again), Eat Pray Love (ugh, I don’t know, I do love movies about women just leaving and doing fun shit alone and abandoning their lives, but this was pretty lame, I hated James Franco’s character more than life and truly didn’t understand how Julia Roberts was even briefly into him), and finally the original The Hills Have Eyes (which I loved weirdly enough despite being incredibly tense the entire movie, I just thought it was so well done and scary and incredible, the rape scene is of course awful and I shut my eyes for that part, but that was the only thing I hated, it doesn’t make sense that I liked this movie so much).

I don’t know how to word this, but something is off with the reasonably priced (and almost too cheap) parmesan sold at Trader Joe’s. It melts weird. It doesn’t taste like normal cheese. Something is afoot and I won’t buy it any longer. I’m truly dreading and equally anticipating the day that all of Trader Joe’s secrets are exposed. Be warned.

That being said, obviously I’m in love with the seasonal summer candles that TJ just released. We have a complicated relationship.

I made this gruyere mac and cheese with caramelized onions (I used almond milk and it still came out good) and can every recipe just include caramelized onions? The world is ending, let’s just put sweet, tiny, brown onions on everything and call it a day.

Ennio Morricone passed away last month and I find myself listening to the Cinema Paradiso soundtrack on repeat.

Read this great piece about summer blockbuster movies which also has just some great ideas for movies to rewatch right now.

I have to remember that Essie’s vibrant colours just f-ing suck. Only their muted/bland colours are good. They should really just stick to those. And if you’re looking for loud colours that stand out, the summer collection at Urban Outfitters is my go-to (and there’s always a 3 for $10 sale with them).

I listened to Taylor Swift’s new album and so far my favourites are definitely: the 1 and this is me trying.

Ugh, Astoriaaaaaa, DO BETTER.

I’ve been thinking about cancelling my Ipsy subscription again (because I think I don’t care about makeup at this current moment in time) and when I logged on to cancel, they let me choose one of the items being sent next month as if they knew I wanted to leave! So I chose a Sunday Riley product (because any sample I’ve tried from them, I’ve loved) so maybe I’ll cancel next month?

I tried a sample of Drunk Elephant’s shampoo & conditioner (which smelled so lovely) and my hair did seem softer the next day. There’s something about this brand though, I feel like they might be tricking us with their beautiful packaging and minimalist persona.

I bought and tried the ancient Biore Strips and I have absolutely no idea if they did what they’re supposed to do. Are you supposed to see the blackheads or whiteheads come off onto the strip? It felt like it just tried to peel my face off. No idea what’s going on with these.

I have been in love with the Peter Thomas Roth Correction Pads, I use one pad before bed each night and I think they’re doing something good because I always wake up with no new pimples. It has even started erasing all of the redness I’ve been experiencing lately from the summer heat and sweat and mask-wearing. At this point, I can definitely see myself rebuying when I run out, and if I do then I’ll definitely not get them from Sephora because you can get them way cheaper at other online retailers.

I’ve also started using this Dr. Dennis Gross All-In-One face cleanser and I think it’s a good one. It’s hard to tell because I started using it the same day at the correction pads I mentioned above (yes that was a bad idea but here we are), so maybe they’re working together to make my face good? We’ll revisit this. 

I finally opened up this Belif set I bought a few months ago and it’s really nothing special. I think the face cream is probably the best item in there because you truly don’t need to use a lot to feel moisturized. But the face cleanser? Meh. I don’t think it does very much, it definitely didn’t help any redness. And the toner? Don’t get me started on how I kind of think toner might be a scam. And the “eye moisturizer”? Seems superfluous. My eye area is plenty moist, thanks.

Perfect summer soap scent: Fresh Rainfall. If I can’t travel this year, I will escape into this scent. (Send help.)

Very excited to hear about Lindy West’s new book.

So I heard that Lady M now ships their cakes to Canada and I was able to scream in excitement for approx. four seconds before looking into it and seeing that it’ll cost you over $100 to get ONE cake sent. THE GALL, I tell you. THE GALL.

I briefly looked into the app Sweatcoin after hearing good things, but it really just seems like an app where its main goal is to track you. And yes, your phone already does that whether you’re aware or not, but I think I’ll pass on the extra tracking.

I heard that the upcoming Halloween Bob’s Burgers episode will “follow the kids as they try to deliver a burger to the hotel on their street.” It’s such a sad little bit of tiny information, but I love their seasonal episodes so much that I’ll take any crumbs available.

Actually helpful tips on how to clean your home efficiently.

Christ, why do I keep forgetting that Bareburger is absolutely nothing special? Why in the good fuck is it taking so long for a Shake Shack to come to Astoria?!

I ate on the patio at Hoja Santa in Astoria and the tacos were nothing to write home about. The service, drinks and chips were outstanding though, so I may have just ordered badly.

New favourite beer alert.

Best tweets of the month over here.

I tried Thai iced coffee and it was so wildly sweet and too aromatic, I probably wouldn’t get it again. And I also tried a Vietnamese iced coffee and it was the perfect level of sweet! What’s the difference between the two, you ask?

I finally tried the katsu sandwich at Hi-Collar as takeout in the East Village and it was absolutely nothing special. No idea why people are so into it.

I haven’t been to Bite in so many months, so it was nice to get takeout earlier this week. God how I’ve missed their ciabatta bread. They use it on their sandwiches and it comes from Balthazar each morning and it’s always heavenly.

I have found the perfect, light summer blanket and I’m trying not to focus on the fact that it came from Amazon.

I tried a grapefruit shandy and holy shit, it might be my favourite new summer drink. 

I ate on the patio at L’Artusi since it just reopened and good god, that carbonara will change you. So psyched to see they have the wagyu steak tartare on the menu now, too. The burger, the panzanella salad and the charred corn were all great, but that carbonara was the standout.

Some things I’d like to do this month: I’d love to try this tomato toast with blue cheese mayo, I’m going to start using a new clothes steamer I just bought with the hopes of getting rid of my iron & ironing board, I rebought a tube of Revitalash because of how great my lashes were looking when I used it a few years ago so I’ll start using it on August 1st and track my progress to prove how great this product is, I can’t wait for Moesha to be coming to Netflix this month, and I am waiting waiting waiting until I can find time to return to Lilia (on the patio) to eat this incredible tomato focaccia & garlic butter (shown below).

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in June over here.

[alexiarexia-blog]

04.13.2019

Please be aware that I will not be responding to any messages, asks, or replies at this time, or for the foreseeable future. Please respect our privacy and need to grieve. Thank you.

This is not an easy post. Our journey does not have a happy ending.

At 2:08PM on Saturday, April 13, 2019, our beautiful Camryn Rose made a very early debut into the world. She died in my arms at 2:13PM without ever taking a single breath.

Camryn Rose was born a full 21 weeks early. They don’t even call it a live birth at that point. Even though her heart was still beating until they cut the cord, it’s considered a second trimester miscarriage.

Regardless of what they call it, I call it heartbreak. I call it impossible.

I call it agony.

Camryn Rose. She was a girl. I don’t think I had even publicly announced that yet on Tumblr. Only a select few knew that detail. Only a select few knew I was experiencing complications. To those few, I am eternally grateful for your positivity and being there when I needed you. Especially @randomgirlusername. You were definitely my virtual rock when I needed to be completely honest with where my head was as we were playing that torturous waiting game, and in the weeks since.

To others, I need to tell my story. I know I don’t owe it to anyone, and I have a right to keep it private, but writing it out has been cathartic, and I want you all who have been so supportive and encouraging to know.

So, here’s my story.

WARNING: This story contains frank, graphic descriptions of a second trimester miscarriage. I can’t sugarcoat any of the details. If you’re at all squeamish, this may be hard for you to read. Proceed at your own risk.

On Thursday (April 11), I stayed home from work because I was feeling a bit off. But I’d been having trouble sleeping because of my asthma and allergies (both made worse by the pregnancy), so I figured I just needed a day or two to rest and catch up on my sleep. The morning was pretty smooth, just some mild discomfort that wasn’t usual for me. Mostly lower back pain that I typically attribute to the weight of my chest. I’ve felt that pain since my teenage years, so it wasn’t unusual.

Claire was still home. She’d cancelled her late morning office hours, but was still planning on heading to work for her two afternoon classes. We’d planned on ordering Chinese food for lunch and watching Lost Girl on Netflix.

Around noon, I began feeling a bit worse. My lower back pain had morphed into what felt very similar to bad period cramps. When I went to pee, there was spotting. Spotting during pregnancy isn’t unusual, but combined with the lower abdominal cramps that were continuing to worsen, we made the decision to call my OB and see about getting a same-day appointment to get everything checked out. The receptionist told us to hold for a moment, then she was back on the line in two minutes and told us to go straight to the emergency room as quick as we could. Claire drove like a mad woman and got us there in under fifteen minutes.

I was admitted fairly quickly and they did a pelvic exam where it was discovered that my cervix was extremely short. An incompetent cervix is the technical term. A normal cervix length at 17.5 weeks is about 3.5cm, but it can vary for each pregnancy. Anything less than 2.2cm is considered in the danger zone. My cervix was 1.1cm upon admittance. Essentially, my body was preparing for labor. I was only 17 weeks and 4 days. The earliest viability for a fetus is 22 weeks, and survival rates at that point are still incredibly low. There was zero chance she’d make it if they didn’t stop it.

I was given IV medication to try and stop active labor, but it didn’t work and by the following morning, my cervix was 0.8cm long. The next step was a cervical cerclage, which is a procedure where they literally sew your cervix shut with a thick suture. It sounds painful because it is. I was given an epidural to numb me, but when that wore off, I was in so much pain that I passed out from it a few times. I could only receive so much pain medication to help because of the baby. But it was worth it, all the pain and agony was worth it, to save our baby.

But it didn’t work. I developed a pretty nasty infection quickly (expected with this procedure) and it was being resistant to antibiotics. And then, at just past noon on April 13, 2019, my body gave up and my water broke. The force of it ripped the stitch from my cervix, and it felt like a red hot poker was being pushed out of my vagina. I’ve never felt anything more painful in my entire life. Physically, at least. What happened next was easily the single most painful experience, physical or emotional, I’ve ever had to endure.

There was nothing more to do to stop my body from labor. They gave me another epidural to numb me, then they delivered sweet little Camryn Rose. She was so tiny; I didn’t even have to push. She was already crowning. She weighed just over 6.5 ounces and was only 5.4 inches long. I held her as I cried. As Claire cried with me.

In all the years I’ve known Claire, I’ve only seen her cry from sadness two other times. Once was when her mother died last summer, the other when the grad student she was mentoring died in a horrific car accident several years ago. It seems death is the common denominator here. Claire is a solitary crier. I know she’s had more moments than I’ve been privy to than just what I’ve seen. It’s not that she doesn’t want me to see her break down. Or, well, that’s exactly what it is, actually. She’s stoic and a protector. She feels the need to be my rock, so she has to always be strong.

But she was crying freely as she held me the entire time, uncaring that all the medical personnel could see her. That my mom could see her. (My mother had flown out as soon as I’d been admitted to the hospital the day before.) She didn’t care, and for that I am grateful. I needed her to be vulnerable in that moment, just as she needed herself to be vulnerable.

My heart hurts for the loss of our baby, but it hurts even more for the pain it causes my incredible wife. She’s been through so much and I just don’t understand how she can keep going after all of it. But she does, and for that I am so utterly grateful and in complete awe.

Camryn Rose. We decided on the name as I held her. “We should pick a name.” Claire spoke those words as she brushed a finger across our daughter’s paper-thin cheek. We’d discussed a few names, but Camryn really stuck out in that moment. She felt like a Camryn. And Rose in honor of Mama Rocío, Claire’s mother’s, memory.

After we said our goodbyes, I had to be taken to the OR for a cervical repair. It’s as nasty as it sounds. They stitched my cervix back into place, but only after they had to perform a D&C (where they remove the placenta). I was thankfully still numb from the epidural, but after that wore off, it was more pain.

The physical pain, as bad as it was, was nothing compared to the emotional pain I felt. The emotional pain I still feel, and will for a long, long time.

I can’t become pregnant again. There was too much damage to my cervix. I’d never be able to carry a baby to term, no matter how much precaution was taken. That’s something I have to make peace with, but that’s also going to take a long, long time.

The mental trauma of this miscarriage has left me raw and sensitive. The smallest thing can set me off into a sobbing mess. The thing that gets me most right now? Mirrors. Yes, mirrors. Or photographs of myself. Because, even 3+ weeks later, I still look pregnant. The body doesn’t magically morph back to its pre-pregnancy state after miscarriage. I still have the rounded belly (not quite as much now, but still there) and puffy cheeks. That will take a while to go away. So for now, mirrors/pictures of myself are the sworn enemy.

Claire is incredible. She’s grieving as much as I am, yet she’s been my rock this entire time. Her and my mother. And my dog. Sasha the GSD has not left my side since I returned home from the hospital. Dogs are incredible, and we don’t deserve them.

Therapy has been a godsend. I’m nowhere near okay or ‘back to normal,’ but I can function day-to-day, and that’s a huge improvement for me compared to two weeks ago. It seems like it’s been so much longer than just over two weeks. It seems like it’s been a lifetime. Getting through the next days, weeks, months, years… seems impossible at times.

My saving grace is my support system. In particular, five people. Claire, my mom, Sarah, my therapist, and @randomgirlusername (seriously, y’all, if you didn’t know how incredible she is, take my word for it--she’s been a literal life-saver and I cannot thank her enough). I have my bad days and I have my good days. All days are emotionally trying, but some are less painful than others. Those good days are all because of this support system that I have.

And on the bad days, my support system knows exactly how to help me cope. And for them, I’m eternally grateful. I don’t know where I’d be, mentally, without them.

I’m okay. Or, I will be, at least. Even though this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever gone through, I have the support system to get through it. And because of that, I know I’ll be okay. I know there will be hard days and not-so-hard days. I know it won’t be all rainbows and sunshine, but it also won’t be all stormy weather. I remind myself in those bad times that it won’t remain like this. I will feel joy and happiness again.

It will just take time to heal, physically and emotionally.

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #49. Clace baby.

It is a warm June morning in 2015 when Jace is awoken from his dreams by the sensation of being shaken. 

Jace groans and bats the hand on his shoulder away, burying his face further into the pillow. Soon he wont be able to sleep in like this, these sleepy, relaxed mornings with Clary will soon be replaced by early morning feeds and diaper changes. Clary is 9 months pregnant with their first child and is due any day now, and though they are both beyond excited to meet their baby, they are also extremely nervous, they have so little experience with children, Jace had helped out a bit with Max when he had first gone to live with the Lightwoods, but not much, and Clary had grown up as an only child with no aunts, uncles, etc. They’ve both helped out with Baby Max quiet a bit but they still feel extremely nervous about being parents. 

“Jace, Jace wake up!” Clary hisses, shaking her husband again, harder this time. 

“What’s up Clary?” Jace asks in a tired tone, turning to face his wife. 

“I think I just had a contraction.” Clary quietly says. Jace’s eyes widen and he scrambles to sit up.

“Should I get the midwife? Do we have time to get the midwife? By the angel, am I going to have to deliver the baby?!” He says in a panicked tone.

Clary laughs lightly and places her hand on his arm.

“Jace calm down, I don’t know if it even was a real contraction, it might have been fake. Grab my phone and I’ll time them.” Clary calmly says. 

Half an hour later Clary has had 3 more contractions, each 15 minutes apart, the pain staying on the same level each time. 

“Should I get the midwife now?” Jace tentatively asks, once Clary’s latest contraction has passed. Most Shadowhunters have their babies at home with the assistance of a private midwife and/or The Silent Brothers, and Clary has chosen to also give birth at home, however she and Jace have agreed that they will only summon The Silent Brothers if absolutely necessary, and just have their midwife deliver the baby.

“Yeah.. yeah that might be a good idea.” Clary says in a breathless tone, feeling worn and exhausted after the last contraction. 

“Do you want me to call your mom too? Or anyone else?” Jace asks, secretly longing for his own mother to come and reassure him that everything will be okay. 

“No not yet, in fact don’t tell anyone I’m in labor, as much as I love our family, I know they’ll all rush over here and I don’t want that, we can send them pictures of the baby when he’s born, and they can come visit in a few days.” Clary says in a tired tone, in no mood for visitors, not even her parents.

________________________________________________________________

**5 hours later**

It has been 5 hours now, since Clary woke up with intense pains in her lower stomach, her labor had been fairly short but intense and only a few moments ago, Clary gave birth to her baby, comfortable and relaxed in her and Jace’s bed.

Before the midwife can get near the baby to wash him down and wrap him up, Clary reaches down to the bottom of the bed and scoops her baby up into her arms and cradles him to her chest, her heart swelling with a love and a joy greater than she had ever felt before. Holding her son with Jace at her side, Clary feels a beautiful, calm sense of peace settle over her.

“Oh Jace look at him, he’s so perfect.” Clary quietly says, gazing at her son in awe. The baby is a perfect mixture of his parents, with a few tufts of golden blonde hair, just like Jace’s, Clary’s bone structure and mouth, Jace’s eye shape and nose shape and- as it would later turn out- beautiful big green eyes just like his mother and grandmother. 

“Yes he is, just like your dad, huh Stephen?” Jace softly coos to the baby. Stephen Alexander Herondale, his son, named after his grandfather and his Uncle Alec. Jace can hardly believe this gorgeous baby lying in his wife’s arm is really his, he is extremely proud of his son already and he is immensely proud of Clary, nothing he has ever done or ever will do, will ever top what Clary has just done, nothing will top her courage and bravery.

“I can’t believe he’s really ours.” Clary softly says, laying her head on Jace’s shoulder, gazing at her son with pure joy. Jace kisses Clary’s head and lets Stephen grab onto his finger.

“Me neither, I love you both so much.” Jace softly says, slipping an arm around Clary and pulling her closer to him. This has to be the happiest day of his life, sitting here with his beautiful, amazing wife and their perfect baby boy, Jace could not be happier, this is his idea of heaven. 

*2 DAYS LATER* 

“Jace are you sure you don’t want me to stay? It would be no hassle at all, really.” Maryse asks her son in a hopeful tone, after spending the last few hours visiting her sweet new grandson, who she is already infatuated with. She knows how daunting this must be for Clary and Jace and is more than willing to help out as much as she can.

“We can stay too Clary, this is such a daunting time, you and Jace are so young, wouldn’t you feel more at ease if your parents were here?” Jocelyn says to Clary, not wanting to leave her daughter when she has just had a baby and she does not want to leave her grandson either, she hadn’t been around when Ash was a baby and now that she has bonded with him and grown close to him, she desperately wishes she could have known about her grandson when he was a baby and taken him in and loved him. Now she wants to be around for everything with Stephen. 

“Mom it’s fine, I couldn't ask you to stay with us anyway, dad has work to think about, he can hardly run a bookstore pretty much on his own, while helping to care for a newborn.” Clary calmly says.

“I don’t mind, I could close the store for a few days or ask Maia and Bat to run the show for a while, I’d rather spend time with my first grandchild than work, anyway.” Luke says, looking up from the baby’s face and smiling at his daughter. Being a grandfather is amazing, even though he feels far too young to be a grandfather he already adores his new role as a grandpa and couldn’t wait to be able to do all the things with Stephen that he hadn’t be able to do with Clary, like helping him learn to walk, talk, etc. 

“Look we appreciate your offer to help out, we really do, but we’re copping just fine, Stephen is a very easy baby, he eats well, he sleeps well and he’s not that fussy, Clary is getting plenty of opportunity to rest and bond with Stephen, everything is fine.” Jace calmly reassures his mother and parents-in-law. 

“Jace is right, you’re more than welcome to come visit anytime you like, Ash will be coming over in a few days to meet his cousin, and of course Magnus and Alec are constantly coming over with gifts, as are Izzy and Simon, but we don’t need you to stay with us.” Clary gently says, not wanting to offend her parents and mother-in-law. 

“Alright, but you call us day or night if you need us, okay?” Jocelyn firmly says, hugging her daughter tightly, trying not to worry too much about her. 

“We will mom, of course we will.” Clary says, as Luke passes Stephen to Jace. 

Once Jocelyn, Luke and Maryse leave, Clary and Jace are able to breathe a sigh of relief. They appreciate their parents’ concern and willingness to help, but they can be very overwhelming at times and almost suffocating, though no doubt they mean well, Clary and Jace are glad to have some time alone with each other and their baby boy.

*Two weeks later*

“Delia what do you think of the baby?” Jem softly asks his daughter, kneeling beside her with baby Stephen in his arms. He, Tessa, Kit and Cordelia had come from Devon today to meet the newest little Herondale. It’s especially important for Kit to meet the baby, seeing as he is one of the only people alive that is related to him by blood.

Cordelia peers curiously at the bundle in her father’s arms, watching as Stephen blinks open his green eyes and gazes at her in fascination. 

“He look like Uncle Will!” Cordelia exclaims in delight. She adores her Uncle Will, who often comes to visit her. 

“You think so?” Jem softly asks, fondly remembering his parabatia. 

“Uh hu, papa we keep him?” Cordelia curiously asks, looking up at Jem with pleading brown eyes. Jem chuckles softly and kisses his sweet little girl’s forehead. 

“I don’t think Clary and Jace would be too pleased if we did that.” He softly says. 

“I’m afraid you can’t take him home Cordy but you can come see him all the time.” Jace softly says, crouching next to his little cousin. 

 Before Cordelia can reply, Stephen starts to fuss and cry in Jem’s arms, his little face scrunching up and turning bright red.

“Oh dear, what’s wrong little one?” Jem coos, gently bouncing the crying baby in his arms, trying to settle him. 

“He’s probably tired, it’s almost his nap time, I’ll go put him down for a bit.” Clary says, walking over to Jem and gathering her son into her arms. 

10 minutes later when Clary comes downstairs from putting Stephen down for his nap, she realizes she has forgotten to put his baby monitor- that Magnus had enchanted to work in The Institute- in his room.

“Kit?” Clary calls to Jace’s cousin, grabbing the baby monitor off the sideboard. 

“Yeah?” Kit asks, walking up to her and looking at her with questioning blue eyes.

“I forgot to take the monitor up when I put Stephen down for his nap, could you please take it up for me? I’d go myself but walking up and down all those stairs makes my pain worse.” She tentatively asks, not wanting to bother or annoy Kit but not feeling fit to walk back up all those stairs. 

“Yeah no problem, which room is he in?” Kit asks, taking the monitor from Clary.

“Second room on the left on the second floor, thanks Kit, you’re doing me a big favor.” Clary says in appreciative tone. 

“Anytime.” Kit says, before turning and jogging up the stairs. 

A few minutes later when Kit steps into Clary and Jace’s room to leave the monitor in, he immediately notices two transparent figures, standing on either side of Stephen’s crib. One of them is a tall man who looks to be in his early 20s, he has straight blonde hair and sharp features. The other is a small, slim woman who also looks to be in her early 20s, she has long curling blonde hair with a soft, square face. 

“Oh he is so sweet and beautiful, he looks just like our Jace.” The woman coos, leaning over the crib and stroking the baby’s cheek. 

“Yes and Jace looks just like me, and this little one has my name too!” The man says in an excited proud tone.

“Jace looks like me too, and so he should, I carried him for nine months. Oh Stephen I wish we could have been around to raise Jace, I hate that Valentine ever got near him, my sweet boy.” The woman says in a solemn tone. It’s then that it hits Kit that these are Jace’s parents, Stephen and Céline. They’ve obviously come to meet their first grandchild. Kit hopes that they are much happier now in the after life than they had ever been when they were alive, he would love to be able to tell Jace that his parents are happy and watching out for him.

“I know Céline, me too, I wish I could get my hands on that bastard for what he did to my boy, he killed me and then stole my child, and it’s not as if he were doing it out of love for us or Jace, he beat him and abused him for years, but thank the angel that Maryse and Robert did give him a good life when they took him in, I never really like them but they loved our boy and cared for him, and for that I’m grateful.” Stephen says in a tight tone, anger welling up in him at the thoughts of what Valentine did to his child. 

“Me too, if I can’t be a mother to Jace I’m glad Maryse is.” Céline quietly says. “And I’m glad our boy is finally getting the life he deserves, he is going to be such an amazing father to this little one.” Céline softly says, gazing at the sleeping baby. 

“Yes he will, I’m so proud of him.” Stephen says. 

“Me too.” Céline agrees. 

Kit quietly places the baby monitor on the dresser right beside the door and quietly backs out of the room, not wanting to further disturb Céline and Stephen’s moment with their grandson. 

As Kit makes his way back downstairs, little Stephen briefly wakes up, his eyes fluttering open to see his grandparents smiling down at him.

“It’s alright little on, go back to sleep, grandma and grandpa are here, we’ll keep you safe.” Céline whispers. Little Stephen smiles up at his grandparents and grabs onto Céline’s hand, before falling back into an easy sleep, guarded by his grandparents. 

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Nine)

Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I don’t think I can ever truly express how sweet you all are for continuously loving this story and showing me all of that love! It’s my favorite universe to write in even when it’s difficult, and I’m glad you guys like it! Now, I feel like there’s something happening in this chapter that you’re all excited for...I wonder what that is :D

There’s a lot of fluff, and I’m sorry not sorry. 

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 

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“I think…I think we need to go to the hospital.”

The words play in his mind over and over again. They were words he never wanted to hear again, not after having to take Emma to the hospital in New York. But she said the words again, almost exactly as she’d said them before, and this time it’s a good thing to hear them.

Except for the fact that he’s never been this bloody nervous in his entire life.

She’d woken him before four this morning, her face calm while he felt like his heart was going to leave his body, the pounding far too quick to be healthy. He should probably get that checked out while they’re here. He thinks it’s normal. It must be normal. How could anyone be calm walking into this? That seems…impossible.

But Emma is weirdly calm. She’s been calm this entire time. She’s obviously uncomfortable, but she’s calm. That likely won’t last when the contractions get worse.

They’ve been here for hours.

It feels like days.

“You need to stop pacing,” Emma sighs, looking over at him before looking back down at her phone, playing whatever game she downloaded while they were on the way here. “It’s freaking me out. I’m supposed to be calm. I’m not supposed to be extra stressed.”

“Darling, if I sit down I think I’ll start tapping my leg and shake the entire room.” “I think I’d like that better than the pacing. Actually,” she pats the mattress of her bed, “come sit with me.”

“Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m going to be sitting here for awhile, and I want you to sit with me.”

He nods, stopping his pacing to sit down on the small bed, having to shuffle around until Emma’s situated in between his thighs and leaning back into his chest, her hair getting stuck in his mouth despite the braid. She has so much hair, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how it takes on a life of its own and gets stuck in his mouth all of the time.

The other day he found a strand of her hair in one of the guest bedrooms…which she hasn’t been in for months.

“See,” Emma sooths, grabbing his palms, “this is so much better. It’s calm, relaxing. You’re not making me freak out.” “Sorry.” “It’s fine, babe. I just think if you hype yourself up anymore you’re going to pass out from exhaustion and totally miss the birth of your kid.”

“That would be disappointing.”

“Exactly,” she sighs, twisting her head and kissing his cheek. “We should probably call our parents now that it’s, like, ten in the morning. They don’t need to come right away, but I know that my mom and dad will literally drop everything and run to be here.”

“My parents won’t come until after he’s born, I think. And we have to tell my dad that you’ve delivered before anyone else too.”

“Yeah, and I don’t want everyone to stay the whole time, especially since no one is going to meet him until we’ve had some time alone. And the whole your dad thing.” “I think your mum might break down the door when she finds that out.” “And that’s why we haven’t told them yet. We haven’t given them time to figure out how to convince us otherwise.”

“Not sure if you’re evil or a genius.”

“An evil genius obviously.”

He chuckles before he leans further back into the mattress and pulls her back with him, pressing several kisses into her hair, not at all caring how much of it gets into his mouth.

They’re going to be parents soon, today most likely, and he can’t quite wrap his head around everything.

-/-

“You’re doing brilliantly, love,” he promises, squeezing her fingers. “So bloody strong.”

“Killian, I want the epidural.”

“Dr. Hudson said you need to be dilated more.”

“I disagree.”

“Emma,” he cautions, only to get the death stare from her. She’s covered in sweat, the hair around her forehead curling from the dampness while the rest of it is pulled back into her braid. She’s nowhere near ready to push yet, but this room is awfully warm, much warmer than it was this morning. “Okay, I know, love. I know you want to kill me and Dr. Hudson and likely Andrew at this point, but you’ll want it even more if the epidural happens too soon and it’s worn off by the time the actual delivery happens.”

“I’m just miserable, and I want my mom. Where did she go?”

“She and your dad went to go get something to eat.” “I thought we weren’t supposed to go to the public areas of the hospital.”

“They didn’t,” he assures her, pulling her knuckles to his lips. “Thomas helped them out, and they’re going to get something from one of the shops about a mile from here. I’m not sure which one, though.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she says, repeating the same words that she’s been repeating as the contractions have gotten closer and closer together. “Baby, tell me a story or something. I can’t just lay here. Also, we’re never having sex again. I’ve said that before, and we’ve broken it. So when we do, I’m not going to be nine months pregnant in the summer ever again.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

“I say to tell me a story. I don’t know what, just something happy.”

He hums, trying to think of something. He’s not sure what she’s looking for. Usually he doesn’t have to tell her stories, not anything besides how his day is, but he doubts she’d want a replay of everything that she’s been here for. She obviously doesn’t want to think about what’s happening right now.

“Okay, okay. Um,” he begins, still entirely unsure of what to say, trying to think of something, anything that will make her happy, “do you remember when we went to Switzerland? I’d finally convinced you to let me take you somewhere so we could have some time together without your parents in the next room.” “I remember, obviously. I also remember how it was basically an excuse to go to Switzerland for sex.” “Well, that’s their motto after all.” “I think it’s something about being neutral. With chocolate. And good snow.”

“No, no. It’s definitely Switzerland, the Sexier-land.”

Emma snorts, her chest rumbling with laughter, and even if he knows that he just told an absolutely horrific joke, he doesn’t care. It made his wife laugh when she’s uncomfortable and needing to be distracted. That’s all that’s important right now.

“I see we’re still telling awful dad jokes.” “Well, I didn’t have any stipulations to my storytelling.” He brings her hand to his lips again, kissing the knuckles. He wonders how many times he’s going to do that today. “Anyways, so I finally convinced my beautiful girlfriend to go on a trip with me, disguising it as a trip for her birthday.” “Yeah, I saw right through that.”

“I know you did, but I wasn’t exactly hiding it. So I took you there, and watching your eyes light up with everything that we did became one of my favorite things. I loved the way you got excited to see such heavy snow, the way you laughed even when you busted your ass while skiing, and I loved the way you forced me into eating grilled cheese.”

“I still can’t believe you don’t like it.”

“It’s the consistency, love. It bothers me for some reason.”

“Your loss.”

“Aye, I know.”

Emma smiles at him before leaning back in the bed, adjusting herself to get as comfortable as she can. He cannot begin to imagine what she’s feeling, and he so wishes he could take at least some of the burden off of her shoulders.

“So my point is, we got to go on this wonderful trip full of absolute joy, and, you know, I don’t think I was thinking too far ahead of myself to think about how things like that, well, we could do them forever.” “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me time and time again that we have to live here.”

“Well, you know what I mean,” he chuckles, shaking his head from side to side, “that we can travel, have adventures. One day we can take Andy to Switzerland and wrap him up in one of those puffy suits with a beanie on his head. He’ll look like the Michelin man, and it’ll be the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Or we can take him to the beach. Our boy has got to love the ocean. I just don’t think there’s a way that he can’t, not with you and me as his parents.” “I bet he’s going to hate it,” Emma teases, scrunching up her nose. “Just to spite us.”

“Eh,” he groans, shaking his head, “I doubt it. We’ll save the teenage defiance for later, not so much when he’s a young babe.”

“We’ll just have to see.” Emma’s hands bunch up into the sheets while her face contorts, all of her features falling away into thin lines while she obviously feels another contraction. They’re getting closer and closer, and the doctors assure them that things are progressing just fine, that mum and baby are both doing well. That’s all he cares about. He just wants them to both be okay. “Tell me more plans. I like this.”

“Well, obviously we’ll have to spend lots of time outside, especially when we eventually move to the new house.” “We have to build it first.”

“Hush, these are plans, darling. They’re not fully fleshed out.” “Okay, okay. So we’re going to spend a lot of time outside?”

“Yes, we’ll have to let him roll around in the dirt like I did, and maybe he’ll be smart enough to roll his suit around in the dirt to get out of wearing the suit. Maybe we won’t make him wear one at all. Or maybe he’ll like to cook or paint. Maybe he’ll enjoy reading or be far too into video games. We’ll just let him be a kid, you know? Everything I didn’t get is everything he should.”

She hums, her eyes opening back up while her breathing regulates. “You think about all of this a lot, don’t you?”

“I do,” he admits, smiling down at her. He’s thought about all of this for years but especially since they found out Emma is pregnant. All he wants is to give his son and any other children they have, his love and as many opportunities as he can give them. “I know you do too. I just have so much I want to do as a family, so much that I didn’t get to experience as a kid. I figured why not start planning? Or dreaming really.”

“Because our lives literally never go as planned?”

“Well, I think right now is going according to plan.”

“True,” she laughs, stretching her arms in the air and groaning with the movement. “I was planning to be in a hell of a lot of pain. It’s always so enjoyable.”

There’s a knock at the door, and his head immediately turns that way only to see David and Mary Margaret walk in holding small bags of what he guesses is their food. They must have had Thomas go in and get the food for them instead of eating somewhere.

“Hi,” Emma greets them, a brighter smile breaking out on her face. She’s between contractions, her pain subsiding for a few minutes, so hopefully she’s more comfortable. “I’m so glad you guys are back, though I kind of hate that you have food with you.”

“Sorry,” Mary Margaret answers, handing David her bag and stepping toward them, kissing Emma’s cheek while her fingers twine together with Emma’s. “How are you feeling, baby?”

“Like I’m having a baby.”

“That’s about how you’ll feel,” Mary Margaret laughs, looking up at all of the monitors before looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Has the doctor been coming in to check on you? Everything is good? Safe?”

“Yes, Mom,” Emma groans, rolling her eyes a bit. Twenty-eight and having a baby yet she can still talk to her mum like she’s a teenager again. It’s a special thing. Maybe Andy will have that teenage defiance as a baby. Toddler defiance, really. “I’m fine. everything is fine. I just really want the epidural. Oh, babe?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Didn’t you have something you wanted to say to my parents?”

She winks at him, and all he can do is open and close his mouth, not knowing how he didn’t realize he would be the one who’d be delivering this news. He guesses that he’s at least delivering something today.

“Um, well, Mary Margaret and David too, I guess.” He reaches up to scratch behind his ear. They’re not going to like this. He doesn’t even really like that tradition is one of the reasons for this, even if they’re leaving that out. “While we love you guys being here and you’re welcome to stay for awhile, Emma and I have decided we just want us to be in the room when he’s born. And we’re going to let him stay with us for a little while afterward, as well. Just so that we have some time with our son without distractions.”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret gasps, her gaze flitting between he and Emma. She looks disappointed, which is what he expected, but she’ll get her time with Andy. He feels guilty, but he knows that he can’t. He has to stand up for he and Emma. Today is about them and not Emma’s parents. “If that’s what you guys want, that’s fine. Right, David?”

David walks over from his seat on the other side of the room and wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Of course. It’s not exactly something you want to experience with a dozen extra people staring at you.”

“Because you’ve given birth, Dad?”

“There’s a reason you’re so like me, kid.”

“Weird,” Emma laughs, slowly sitting up in bed and moving to the side of the bed so she can wrap her arms around her parents as much as she can. “I love you guys, and I promise you’ll get to meet the little one after he finally decides to make his appearance in the world.”

“We can’t wait, Emma.”

“I can’t either,” she agrees, her eyes closing while her lips twitch in the smallest of smiles. “I can’t either. He’ll be here soon.”

-/-

Killian sees him before Emma does, the bloody, squirming, screaming, beautiful baby boy. The doctors show him to the two of them before taking him away and checking his vitals while cleaning him up. Some of the nurses stay behind to check on Emma, making sure all is well with her for the time being. He doesn’t know what to do, where to look, but he settles on whispering words of affection to Emma, letting her know how fantastic she did, how amazing she is for literally giving life. She just nods, letting him kiss her sweaty forehead, but her gaze is trained on the other side of the room, her eyes only leaving their son for the two seconds it takes for her to say that she loves him.

It’s…breathtaking and unreal. He thinks his heart might very well beat out of his chest for more reasons than whatever would medically happen if his heart really was pumping too fast. This is…he can’t. He can’t describe it. He doesn’t have the words. He doesn’t have a way to even explain to himself how he feels or what’s going through his mind. All he knows is that he’s in love with Emma and with their child.

That’s it, that’s all, and that’s everything.

Absolutely everything.

And after what has to be the longest few minutes of his life, Emma is handed a bundled up infant, his patch of black hair that Killian got a glimpse of covered by the smallest hat he’s ever seen.

How can someone be that small?

It’s terrifying.

It’s wonderful.

“Hi baby,” Emma sighs, a giggle escaping from her lips while her finger traces Andy’s body, caressing his face. She has tears streaming down her face, her voice the slightest bit shaky, but he knows that they’re happy tears. He’s so glad to see those happy tears. “I’m so happy to meet you. You have no idea. You look like a little red alien, but you’re so handsome.”

He lets Emma have her moment with their son, smiling down at the two of them while she whispers to Andy, sweet little nothings so different than her curses before. He’s a dad. Emma’s a mum. It’s…everything. They’re everything, and he hasn’t even held his little love yet.

But this isn’t about him. Not at all. Not for this moment. It’s completely about Emma and Andy. She’s carried him for nine months. She’s been the one to go through all of the highs and the lows, and watching her become a mother is the most incredible moment of his entire life. She deserves to have this moment, to get to revel in meeting her son for the first time.

She deserves all of the love in the world.

He’s said it before, and he’ll say it a million times more: his wife is a rock star in every way possible.

And he can’t stop thinking about what this means for her.

And also what it means for them.

Emma looks up at him then, almost as if she can read his mind. Her face is still so red and stained with tears, but he’s never loved her this much. He didn’t even think that was possible until now. “You want to hold him, daddy? I’m not really sure I want to let him go, but I feel like you should hold him.”

He nods his head, trying to calm himself and to keep from sobbing in happiness. He knew that he would be emotional, that he wouldn’t simply be a neutral participant in today, but he could have never imagined feeling like this. He can’t even describe it. He just can’t.

“I do. So much.”

It takes some maneuvering, the protective part of his brain screaming at him not to do anything wrong, but then he’s got their son in his arms for the first time and it’s glorious. Andrew’s got quite the pair of lungs on him, occasionally screaming out before quieting, and he knows in that moment they’re going to have their hands full.

Well, he knew it before, but he’s now got a face to look at and blame for keeping them up at night.

“Hello, lad,” he coos, echoing his own version of Emma’s words while he sits down on the hospital bed, making sure not to disturb Emma but positioning himself so that she can see Andy’s face. “Your mum is right. You are very handsome. I can already tell that you are going to be quite the charmer.” He twists his head to look at Emma, watching her tired smile. “We did this, love. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Insane. Absolutely insane. I still…I can’t believe he’s real.”

“Do you want to…do you want to hold him again?” “Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, her eyes watering the slightest bit. As much as he wants to hold onto Andy, he can see how much Emma feels the need to cling onto him. “I think I’m supposed to try to feed him. Right, Dr. Hudson?”

He’d completely forgotten about all of the nurses and Dr. Hudson, somehow zoning them out. They must have given them a moment by themselves, but he knows that they still have so much to do to make sure that everything is okay.”

“You don’t have to, Emma, but yes, but we do suggest you let him latch in the first hour. It’ll hopefully make it easier later on. He might be hungry as well. It’s instinct.”

Emma nods her head before looking back down at Andy, cupping his head against her chest and helping to guide him, stumbling a few times until they get it right.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Like hell. I mean, I’m fine, but two out of ten would not recommend giving birth to others.” “Why the two?”

“Well, you get a baby, so at least part of it is worth it.”

He chuckles under his breath before leaning down and brushing a quick kiss against her forehead again before pushing back all of her stray hairs behind her ears while she stares down at Andy. “That’s a good point. I like having him.”

The first hour of Andy’s life is calmer than he thought it would be. Of course, he didn’t give birth, so it’s likely not for him to say. But he thought that the nerves would start, that it’d be a bit more terrifying, but as he sits and watches Emma hold their son, staring at him like she’s trying to memorize his face and every little twitch, he’s oddly calm.

Talk to him when they get to go home and maybe it’ll be a different story.

But right now it’s good, it’s perfect. The lack of crying definitely helps.

They go through all of the necessary procedures, letting the nurses continually check on Emma and on Andy. When they’re bathing Andy and making sure Emma is recovering as needed, he leaves the room to go talk to his dad on the phone so he can let him know that Andy’s been born and that everything is fine. His father may have given them some allowances in how they handle the next few days, but he has to know that Andy was born before anyone else does. Mary Margaret and David have been sitting in a private waiting room for hours, and they still don’t know that they have their first grandchild and that their daughter is okay.

But the sooner he gets this done, the sooner he can tell them. He and Emma decided not to let them know about any of the protocol, not wanting them to feel any less important. He’s lived the entirety of his life under guidelines like this, and while he’s used to it, he doesn’t want to subject the Nolans to too much. He just wants them to enjoy this. They deserve that.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” Killian says, taking a step back into the hospital room when a few nurses walk by and look at him, “You have a new grandson.”

“Congratulations,” Brennan laughs, the smile in his speech so obvious that it makes Killian smile himself. “How does it feel to be a dad?”

“Crazy. Absolutely insane. We’re a little late in telling you, but I figured you’d want to get announcement out soon.”

“I’d like to meet the lad myself too. Your mum, who is sitting next to me absolutely bursting at the seams, can’t wait either. But we do need to get that set up so we can visit.” Brennan sighs on the other end of the line. “Here’s your mother, Killian.”

“Hi, baby,” his mum greets, “I can’t believe you have a baby on your own. Tell me all about him. When was he born? How big is he? Does he look like you or Emma? Or both? Can you tell yet?”

He chuckles to himself, looking up at the other side of the room where there’s the start of a wail from Andy until the nurse hands him back to Emma swaddled in a blanket. “He’s a little under eight pounds, which Emma said explained why she felt like a giant. The fact that he was nearly two feet probably doesn’t help either. I’ve got no bloody clue where he gets all of that from. He’s pretty much just a, well, a newborn. But he does have dark hair and blue eyes right now. God, Mum, you’ve got to see the hair on him. I don’t think I even have this much hair.”

“Oh he does take after you then. You had so much hair.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, walking over to Emma and sitting down on the side of her bed until she scoots over and silently tells him to slip into the extra space, his arm going around her shoulder while she leans into his side, “but I do think he favors Emma. His nose doesn’t have the hook to it like mine. It’s more rounded. I don’t know. I think I have to stare at him some more to truly tell.”

“Just stare at him for me until we get there, okay? And fill out that paperwork so your dad and I can leave.”

“Will do, Mum. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“You haven’t given them the go-ahead with the announcement yet?”

He shakes his head, putting his phone down on the table next to the bed before brushing his mouth over the corner of Emma’s lips and gently getting up from the bed. “I’m going to go do it right now, love, now that dad knows. And then I’m going to get your parents, okay? Are you ready for them?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I think the world may break down if David and Mary Margaret don’t meet this little guy soon. And you’re right, babe, he does look like you but with my features. It’s kind of weird.”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of like having the perfect human being.”

“Those are some serious dad goggles you’ve got on when we both know that I already look like perfect human being.”

“I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor since giving birth.”

“Never,” Emma laughs. “I’m too funny for that.” She waves her hand toward the door. “Now go get that paper and my parents, okay?”

“You got it, boss.”

-/-

When David and Mary Margaret walk (barge) into the room ahead of him, he absolutely hates that he misses their faces. If the quiet squeals they emit are any indication, he bets they’re priceless. But he follows them inside, immediately heading back to Emma’s bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed while Emma slowly hands Andy off to Mary Margaret.

“Oh Emma,” she sighs, looking between Andy and Emma, “he’s gorgeous. You are just gorgeous,” she coos, running her finger over Andy’s face, “and so handsome. Your mummy did so good.”

“How are you feeling?” David asks Emma, leaning down to press a kiss against her cheek. He has a brief thought of David once being in his position when Emma was born, and it brings him an odd sense of comfort. And the briefest of thoughts that one day his baby could be having a baby.

Slow your roll, mate.

“Tired. And sore. It’s…a lot. But everyone has said I’m doing great, that we didn’t have any complications, so I’m feeling a lot less stressed about that. I’m just tired and hurting a bit. ”

“Good. Not that you’re hurting, but that you’re doing okay despite that.” David moves to tuck her hair behind her ears, the pieces falling no matter what he or Emma do to it. “I’m pretty sure your mom and I have walked to Russia with how much we’ve been pacing while waiting. I can’t imagine the two of you in here.”

“Killian almost drove me crazy,” she laughs, leaning back against the bed again. “He would not stop pacing. I thought I was about to have to send in for a replacement or something.”

“Hey, I was not that bad,” he protests, moving back to sit with Emma and wrapping his arm around her shoulder again. Hopefully he won’t have to get up again too soon. Every time he sits down, he feels like he has to get up again. “I was nervous.” Emma turns her head and kisses her cheek before she rests her head on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed. He can’t even begin to imagine how tired she must be. She’s been up for nearly an entire day now, and it’s not like she’s simply been sitting on the couch watching TV.

“Do you want to take a nap?” he whispers in her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

“Yeah,” Emma quietly admits, twisting a bit so she can wrap her arm around his stomach, “but I was going to let Mom and Dad see him awhile. And he’s got to eat soon too.”

“Okay, but after he eats, let’s try to take a nap, yeah?”

“I’ll try.”

Emma does fall asleep eventually, Andy too, and if he could fall asleep while sitting up and watching them, he would. Instead he asks Thomas where he can get a cup of coffee and is lead to the doctor’s lounge down the hall, quickly fixing himself something even though he knows it’ll likely be terrible. He should probably eat as well. It’s been since this morning, and when he checks his watch, he sees that it’s past eight in the evening.

How has this day already gone by so quickly?

Has it really even been quick? Or does it simply feel that way now?

Wandering around the lounge, knowing that Thomas must have cleared the room first, he heads toward the window, peeking through the blinds. He can see the crowd gathered out on the street, journalists and news anchors mixed in with people wearing crazy hats and wigs. They’ve likely been waiting out there ever since the announcement went up, and for a moment, he feels almost sorry for them. At least, he feels sorry for the people who came to be a part of the celebrations on their own without it being a part of their jobs. They thought it would be a nice time to come out and wait, to be part of the moment.

But there will be no baby presented to them, no big greeting by he and Emma. No part of him regrets that Emma brought it up, that they’ve made this decision, especially now that he’s met his son. It’s even more personal than he ever could have imagined, and Emma was right about them keeping things to themselves, keeping their family to themselves.

Someone should probably tell everyone that there’s no need to wait outside, though. Maybe he should, just to appease them, but he won’t do it without talking to Emma first. Sighing, he takes a sip of his coffee and begins making his way out of the lounge and back down the hall to Emma’s room. She’s still fast asleep as is Andy, so he simply puts a chair in front of the couch and props his feet up, sipping on his coffee as he thumbs through his phone.

Abigail: Look at that handsome little boy! Congratulations, you guys!

Graham: Congrats, mate!

Ruby: Look at that little munchkin! OMG!!! I need to meet him and make him love me as much as I love him!

Ruby: ALSO he looks just like you baby daddy!

Will: Congrats! I’m covering the pub’s patrons for a pint in yours and Em’s honor! I’m proud of my girl!

Mum: So good seeing you THREE today! I hope Emma is still doing well. We’ll have to see you all again after you’re settled at home.

David: Can you send us more pictures? Mary Margaret is already printing some off at home. I think she’s gone a bit crazy.

Liam: Congratulations, little brother! Can’t believe you have a little one of your own! Alex and Lizzie are chomping at the bit to meet the baby!

Liam: Seriously. Alex wouldn’t go to sleep tonight because of it.

He quickly responds to each text, thanking everyone for their kind words before sending David some more pictures he has on his phone, which ends up taking longer than he thought with the way he gets distracting thumbing through them.

They made a damn cute baby.

“What are you doing?” Emma asks, making him jump in his seat and causing his heartbeat to pick up. He had no idea that she was awake.

“Replying to texts, love. Go back to sleep.”

“What’s everyone saying?”

“Congrats, they’re happy for us, he’s handsome. Just all of the run of the mill things but all true. Will says he’s proud of you and that he’s covering the tabs at the pub tonight.”

“He’s going to go broke,” she laughs, sitting up in bed until she’s slowly sliding off of the mattress, her feet touching the ground and sliding into her slippers. “But that’s so sweet of him.

“Where are you going, love?”

“The bathroom,” she answers simply, slowly making her way into the small room. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Do you need help?”

She shakes her head. “Not this time. Maybe later.”

He nods his head as she disappears into the bathroom. He can feel his phone vibrate a few more times, but he ignores it, choosing to finish off his coffee before getting up from the couch. He can hear Emma moving around in the bathroom, a few muffled curses traveling through the walls, but she said she didn’t need him. If she did, she’d call.

Instead of going to check on her, he gets up and walks over to Andy’s basinet, peering down at him. He’s awake, slowly blinking as he looks around and stretches his tiny limbs.

“Hi, little love,” Killian whispers, and Andy’s eyes immediately find him. He likes to think that there’s recognition there, that his son knows him. “You want to let daddy hold you?” He carefully scoops him into his arms, hoping that he doesn’t disturb him. “Yeah, you want to sit with daddy. I’m so much better than that little cushion.”

Andy coos the slightest bit, but he’s mostly quiet. The redness of his skin has calmed, the natural color coming in, and Killian absolutely cannot get over the eyelashes on this kid. They’re insane. Just, all of the hair is insane.

“I think you’ve got my hair, buddy. You’re going to look like a bear at some point in your life, and I’m sorry.”

“I like your hair,” Emma says from the other side of the room, slowly walking away from the bathroom and coming toward the bed, settling down on the mattress after she kisses Andy’s forehead. “It suits you. But yeah, he’s already got a lot of hair, doesn’t he? I keep thinking about that too.”

“I keep thinking about the fact that we have a baby. Can you believe that?”

“I can. I was there.”

“So sassy.”

“And proud of it.” She reaches over onto the table and grabs her phone, sliding the lilies on the table over so that they’re a bit further over. “Come cuddle with me, babe. I want my boys to sit with me without us being interrupted by our families.”

“I think if you even reference them you mum sees a bat signal in the air.”

“It’s called a baby signal and yes. She’s obviously staring out her bedroom window looking for it right now.”

“I think my mum is doing the same. She didn’t like that they could only stay for a few minutes.”

“They should obviously just work together.” “Aye,” he chuckles, the laugh bubbling in his belly, before placing Andy in Emma’s arms, hoping that it doesn’t make him fuss. There has been some fussing in this room today that he knows is only going to become more persistent. But these quiet moments are everything. Settling down next to Emma for what has to be the twentieth time today, he pulls the blanket Mary Margaret brought Emma up over their legs and hopes that no one is going to disturb them for the next hour. That’s all he asks.

He’s sure that’s all Emma asks too.

“Hey, so I was wondering something,” he begins, fidgeting his fingers in the air and tapping them against his palm.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re wondering or am I supposed to guess?”

“Well, I was thinking about all of the people waiting outside earlier, and while I in no way suggest that you and Andy go out there, I was thinking that I could simply tell them thank you for coming but that you won’t be coming out.”

“You don’t have to do that, Killian.” “I know that I don’t, and I’m not completely sold on it yet. I’m not particularly interested in talking to the media, but I think it would be nice to tell the people who came to congratulate us, just thank them and let them go home.”

She hums, resting her cheek against his while her finger rubs up and down Andy’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed. God, look at that face. It’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“If you want to do that, you can. I think it’s a good compromise. Might get people off of our backs, you know, further draw our line.” Andy makes some kind of noise. He’s not really sure what it is, but Emma immediately responds to the small murmur and the way that he’s moving his head back and forth. “Hey, baby, hey. Are you waking up some more? Yeah? Yeah? It’s time to eat again, isn’t it? You eat a lot for someone so little.”

“Do you need me to move, love?”

“No, babe, we’re fine. This is the most comfortable I’ve felt all day anyways.”

Emma’s a natural as she adjusts her robe and gets Andy situated, and he can do nothing but be amazed, absolutely nothing. Words still fail him, but he’s kind of hoping that maybe he won’t need them.

“I love you, Emma,” he speaks against her ear, his lips brushing over the shell. “You’re bloody wonderful.”

“Thank you. I love you too.” She reaches her free hand up and pats his cheek, holding her hand there until he places his palm over her knuckles. “Is there any way that you can get me something good to eat? I’m kind of hungry, and this isn’t exactly the most pleasant thing in the world. I feel like some dinner would make it a million times better.”

“I can ask Thomas or Isabelle to go get something. I’m pretty sure your only options here are toast or something out of the vending machine I saw down the hall.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to fly. I need the food, babe.”

-/-

The first night is rough, worse than he thinks either of them expected it to be, but the morning does roll around eventually, the light peeking through the curtains while Emma and Andy snooze side by side in their beds. He could go home or fall asleep on the couch, but instead he takes a quick shower, changing into the clothes he brought for himself and cleaning himself up the slightest bit. He doesn’t think he can cover the bags underneath his eyes, but he doesn’t care too much at this point.

But he does want to go ahead and go outside, get this chat over with while Emma and Andy are sleeping, so he slips outside of the room, telling Thomas what he wants to do so that they can arrange security. It takes a few minutes, but then he’s walking out the front doors to the sound of camera shutters flashing and people yelling. It’s what he’s used to, but he does notice the way that everything quiets when everyone realizes that it’s not Emma and Andy coming out of the door.

He smiles and waves, going through the motions as he walks down the stairs, ignoring the cameras and making his way to the groups of people holding signs and flowers.

“Hello,” he tells a young boy who is obviously forced to be there by his parents, the look on his face absolutely miserable as Killian squats down to be at his eye level, “what’s your name, lad?”

“Paul Livingston.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Paul. How long have you been standing here?”

“For awhile. Mummy has been here longer though.” “Yeah?” he asks, looking up at the woman who has her phone’s camera trained on him.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to see a baby or something. Did you just have a baby?”

“My wife did.”

“Is she going to come out to see us?” the woman who he assumes is Paul’s mother asks him, her camera still trained on him. He guesses now is as good of a time as ever to just spit out the news.

“Actually, love,” he begins, standing up while scratching behind his ear and squinting under the sun, “Emma and the baby aren’t going to come out and see you all. She’s just been through an ordeal, and we’re choosing to keep our son to ourselves for personal reasons. But I just wanted to come out here and thank you all for being so wonderful. Truly, you are all so kind, and I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“Does that mean we can go home now?” Paul immediately asks, and Killian has to stifle his laugh in his hand while he hears a few laughs around him in between all of the muttering, likely nasty words spoken about he and Emma. Things have gotten better on that regard, or maybe he simply ignores it more often, but he is aware that is wife rubs some people the wrong way simply for being her own person with her own opinions.

Fucking stiffs the lot of them, and he has no interest in entertaining their thoughts or opinions. They shouldn’t even have the right to have one on Emma.

But he assumes the worst of the worst aren’t here, so he walks around to a few more people, shaking hands and accepting gifts, thanking them for all of their well wishes for he and Emma. He shares a little bit about Andy, telling everyone that he’s rather big and has thick hair like you wouldn’t believe, but other than that he keeps to himself and spends most of his time being vague with his answers.

After thirty minutes, he waves goodbye, going back inside and hoping that most everyone will go home. He knows they won’t, but maybe Paul will at least get to go home. If he does, then, well, at least Killian accomplished something with that other than creating an unnecessary news story. He and Emma are about to get crucified, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t plan on checking any of it, and he’ll let Isabelle deal with everything.

It’s what’s best for his family, and that matters to him more than anything else.

So much more.

Emma and Andy are still asleep when he gets back to the room, so he busies himself answering the emails he didn’t bother looking at for the past few days. He’s not really supposed to answer them now, but he doesn’t have much else to do, all of his texts already answered. And as much as he should, he doesn’t want to read more articles about life with a newborn. He thinks it might be information overboard, especially because of how different real life is compared to the books.

The bones are the same, but nearly everything is entirely different.

But time passes rather quickly, Emma and Andy both waking up in opposite intervals. He helps where he can, changing diapers and walking Andy around, but when he wakes and wants food, there’s not much he can do for that other than hand him to Emma and help her get him situated. Emma’s nurses filter in and out of the room checking on both her and Andy, making sure that they’re both healing and staying perfectly healthy. They can go home as early as this evening, can stay a little longer if they want to, but he’s going to let Emma wake up from the nap she’s now taking and decide how she feels.

He thinks that the revolving door might finally stop moving, that the room will get a moment of peace, but then he hears his brother’s voice down the hall, three other ones following behind it.

“You have to be quiet,” Liam warns, obviously talking to his kids.

“And gentle,” Abigail adds in, “you can’t jump on Emmy, okay?”

“Yes, Mummy,” two voices promise before there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Emma mumbles, waking up from sleep more quickly than usual. He sees Alex and Lizzie first, the two of them sprinting into the room before slowing down, their parents right behind them. “Hi, guys,” she coos, sitting up in bed and wiping her eyes before scooting over and patting the bed beside her. “Come sit with me. I want to hug you.” “Gentle,” Liam reminds them, and while Alex easily climbs up onto the bed, he gets up and lifts Lizzie up there, letting them both hug Emma from her spot.

“Is that the baby?” Alex asks, leaning over Emma and pointing into Andy’s bassinet. “That’s what came out of your belly?”

“Yeah, bud, that’s what came out of my belly.” “How?”

He feels the blush rise in his cheeks, his face heating, and he’s the only one in the room who manages to stifle his laugh, everyone else laughing while Emma runs her hands over Alex’s hair. “When it’s time for the baby to come out, he just does. It’s very special.”

Alex doesn’t seem to be buying it, his little face all scrunched up, but he seems to move on. “Is he coming home with us? Or with you, Emmy?”

“With me and Killian, Alex. He comes home with us.”

“Yay,” Lizzie laughs, the smallest of smiles on her face. She was looking a bit wary of Andy, so she’s obviously relieved that he’s not coming to live in her house.

“He’s beautiful, Emma,” Abigail finally says, taking step over and looking at their son. “Can I hold him?” “Of course, Abi. You’ve washed your hands, right?” “We’re all scrubbed up and down, little brother,” Liam promises, clapping him on the back.

“Younger,” he mumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes the slightest bit. “You two can hold him. Show us how experienced parents do it.”

Abigail carefully and easily picks Andy up, cradling him and talking to him as she walks around the room, making sure to show her kids the baby. They don’t let them hold him just yet, maybe when he’s a bit bigger than can sit with him, but they seem absolutely fascinated by Andy.

He doesn’t blame them. He’s absolutely fascinated with Andy too.

“He really is a handsome, lad, Killian. You guys did well.” “Thank you. It’s supposed to be this terrifying, right?” “Absolutely. I think it stops being terrifying for about a week, and that’s when you’re dumb enough to decide that you can handle another one.”

“Nice words of advice.” 

“I try.”

“Don’t listen to Liam,” Abigail insists, carefully handing Andy to her husband before she wraps her arm around Killian’s waist and rubs her hand up and down his back in soothing circles. “It is always terrifying, but they’re so dang cute that you just want another little face in your house. And you also convince yourself that labor was not all that bad. It’s pretty much the natural circle of things.”

“You guys are so encouraging.” Liam and Abigail only stay for a little under an hour, knowing how overwhelming it is to have four extra people in the room with them, and after a few more hours, he and Emma begin the process of checking out of the hospital, running through the last few tests and filling out the paperwork all while Emma showers and dresses in a pair of leggings and a sweater, not bothering to put on shoes besides her slippers. He doesn’t blame her. Actually, he supports her in this. He wishes he was wearing slippers too.

“He looks cute,” Emma says when she finishes dressing Andy in the jumper and hat they decided on for his coming home outside. “And very sleepy.” “He looks like he’s ready to come home.” He turns his head to quickly slide his lips over Emma’s, his hand staying at the small of her back. “Are you ready to go home?”

“So, so ready.”

[popculturespiritwow]

THE WICKED + THE DIVINE #32: ARTISTIC SACRIFICES

Sigh.

JUST ANOTHER LOVE STORY

Once again we return to Laura lying on her bed smoking, when Sakhmet shows up to say something matter of fact. You know, like she murdered Amaterasu. Just another day in the life.

What follows between them is an unexpectedly intimate scene, as they lie in bed and Sakhmet asks Laura about the things she shared with her previously. It’s an incredibly dangerous moment for Laura, the kind of moment any of us would try to fill with as many plausible lies as we can. But Laura is instead completely straight about having betrayed her.

In retrospect, fom a strategic point of view that is actually probably the only survivable choice, as it’s the one move that does not put Sakhmet in the position of the fool.

NEVER PUT BABY IN THE CORNER OR SAKHMET IN THE POSITION OF THE FOOL.

But if Laura has any strategy, I find myself wondering if it isn’t once again, What’s the thing I can do that can put me out of my misery once and for all? Kill me now, please.

There’s also, What’s the choice that respects our relationship? There’s something strangely loving in Laura’s honesty, and an unexpected care in Sakhmet as well. Rather than her typical predator/prey stuff (see: what follows), here she actually seems to breaking her own script, asking real questions, lying in bed with her lover, you know, loving.  Could it be that Laura is the one person that Sakhmet actually loved?

Laura’s explanation for her choices is interesting, too.

Given what we’ll learn next issue, how she’s blamed herself for her family’s death, is this how Laura has understood herself this last arc, as someone who has had to lock herself away because she hurts people?

DIO-LOGUING

After Dionysus awakens to find Woden has ripped off his whole thing, we actually get an internal monologue from him. First inspiring, then devastating internal monologue.

I’m pretty sure Dio is only the third person we’ve ever gotten to hear from in this way, after Laura and, actually, Woden. (I’m surprised we haven’t heard from Cassandra, too. To me she’s second only to Laura as our POV character.)

It would be interesting to think about why we’ve been granted such special access to these characters and not the others.

Actually, let’s step back and think about that... In a sense Tara’s unsent letter to her fans in issue 13 was a way of accomplishing the same thing, and the upcoming Christmas issue will actually see her deliver internal monologue.

We can’t get internal monologue from Baal and Mini because their secrets are too important.The Morrigan is too lost at this point. Sakhmet’s lack of an internal monologue is a fundamental part of her character; it’s her silences that tell us everything. Similarly, Inanna’s gift really is transparency. What he says is who he is, what he believes. An internal monologue would be redundant.

Ammy can’t have an internal monologue because she’s way too invested in being a god to allow herself to check in with her authentic, so broken self. And that makes for an interesting comparison with Cassandra, who clearly has an internal life, but her superego is so freaking strong it drowns everything else out. If we ever going to hear from her, I wonder if it wasn’t going to be during Dio’s test rave. But I hold out hope.

Baphomet couldn’t have an internal monologue before now without probably ruining the reveal of what happened to him, what he’s been through. (Though we did have moments early on where he was talking to a disembodied head version of himself. Always with the severed heads...) But he’s grown so much over the course of the series, both personally in our eyes, I think I sort of hope at some point we’ll hear from him.

And Luci...? Well, she’s only around one arc before she gets got. In some ways the Christmas issue is her internal monologue, with her comments to both the fanboy reporters and the newly-ascended Ammy telling us what’s going on inside her. But here again, I’m hoping post-33 that we might actually get something more.

ANNNNDD....SCENE

Dio’s journey through the first half of the issue follows the visual structure of his hivemind rave, each image paired with a number counting the beat. But now that idea has been (brilliantly) (devastatingly) folded into the Pantheon idea of the 4 beat countdown to death. 

And even before Dio falls into his coma, the final image on each of the 4 pages laid out like this--even the number of pages part of the countdown-- foreshadow his doom. He loses touch with his powers at the end of three of the four, and in the fourth (the second page) he admits it’s getting hard to breathe.

Once more, sigh.

I love that Dio’s ending is, as repeatedly warned, all tied up in his desire to help. His self-belief is a form of pride, I guess, but I don’t think of him in those terms. He’s the guy who thinks being a god is about leaving it “all out on the field”, giving everything for others. And that’s not so much arrogant as it is beautiful and foolish. One of the most awful (devastating) (I really hate what happens to Dio, you guys) realizations of this issue is the fact that his sacrifice is not only a failure but that it’s completely unnecessary. The Norns wake up and shut this whole thing down immediately after he drops. I mean literally the same page, three panels later.

(God I love the Norns’ spider-web eye thing.)

In a way Dio ends up very much like The Morrigan; rather than embracing the truth of himself he’s made himself a character in a story, The Savior, and even though that seems like a much better choice than Selfish Shakespeare Goth Lady, in the end it’s just as ruinous.

THE MADDENING CROWD

I don’t know which is worse, Dio dying for nothing or the fact that the crowd that he invited to this amazing experience in the end are just as happy with Woden’s Shithead Hack of their Lives as Dio’s Life-Affirming Rave.

Actually never mind, this is worse, as it means not only did Dio not need to save everyone but they are ultimately not interested in being saved by what he’s been doing. They just want an experience. Humanity, why are you/we?

MOMENTS OF (UN)TRUTH

Cutting back to the Pantheon v. Sakhmet Underground Fight, we get first the truth about Laura: As much as she fashions herself Destroyer, in the end she just won’t pull/snap the trigger.

Then from out of nowhere we get Mini’s moment of truth, which marries Sakhmet’s particular form of Nihilism to Baal’s.

Buried in the background of Laura’s journey there has been an ongoing somewhat parallel story about Mini. She’s the sweet kid that’s so good-intentioned when she almost kills Brunhilde she can’t leave her bedside.

Then in the face of Ananke and her parents and the Great Destroyer she’s pushed to consider another way, in fact not just another way but the very way that her parents were killed in front of her. And finally, she has given in to it.

She Has Done What She Had to Do. She Has Chosen Predator. She has Become Ananke.

(Or has she? When did that happen? Still so confused about that.)

CASSANDRA VS. THE DESTROYER: ROUND ONE

The Norns see through Woden’s “derivative shit”. Of course, they don’t ask derivative of what? Still, it’s a deeply satisfying moment. 

And so is the wisdom this whole experience seems to bring Cassandra.

Even as she’s spent so much of the series trying to understand everything, her fatal flaw is some combination of the fact that she actually thinks that’s possible and most of the time she thinks she’s already done it. In a sense Imperial Phase has been a slow descent into humility for Cassandra, with Dio’s test rave, Cass visiting David’s house, the Norns just now being so easily betrayed, everything to do with the machine and then next issue finally learning the truths about Woden and Laura each a step along the way to real insight – and humanity. That scene of her comforting Laura next issue is such a beauty.

Here of course, even after being fooled so very badly she’s still not quite there yet, and she has for Laura nothing but condemnation.

Which of course has got to be very much the voice of some of the audience too at this point. I mean Jesus Christ, Laura, you chased this so hard despite everything saying this is not what you think it is and then it cost you so much and still all you can do is wander around sad?

But I love how Laura turns that back on Cassandra, and how it also draws in Dio. In Save everyone versus save no one, try to learn everything versus not even bother to try has not only not panned out for the “good guys”, it’s been proved to be destructive and foolish. It’s all the same in the end, all just b.s.

Given the arc’s through-line of characters trapped playing out roles and narratives, there should be something liberating to Laura’s take, too. Except even as she’s saying all this, she’s also mostly interpreting herself in terms of a role. She says that role is Destroyer, but actually given how much she think she knows, the doom she sees coming for all of them, really she’s the one that ought to be called Cassandra.